[TW: Attempted sexual assault, slut-shaming]
Noel suppresses a gag. "Esper Larkin, you're drunk," he says firmly, tugging at his caught arm and inching to the side. "Not only is guiding under the influence a health risk, but propositioning a guide outside of official channels isn't—"
Larkin slams his hand against the wall right beside Noel's head, and Noel jumps, shrinking back as Larkin looms over him. He's trapped between the wall and the cage of Larkin's body and he can feel cold sweat prickling up the back of his neck as panic flickers in his gut.
"Don't be like that," Larkin sneers, puffing rancid breath right into Noel's face. "Come on, I promise you'll have a good time. I'm a lot better than the flunkies you usually fuck." His hand travels from Noel's arm down to his waist, fingertips pressing boldly into his skin.
