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As the night grew longer, the fox got drunker and drunker. You had noticed him grinning at you as he knocked back bottle after bottle, you didn't let it get to you but as you got up to look for your coat you heard a smash as a bottle hit the concrete floor. The fox was then laying comfortably on the bartop, looking back at you grinning again, lust in his eyes and he didn't have to speak a word as you knew exactly what he wanted. The only thing you have to ask yourself was, your room, or his.