Raise your wine glasses high to toast the men of Dahlonia while they discover the secret to happiness LOVE.
Shine was over people thinking because he had a southern accent, and made moonshine, that he was a hillbilly redneck with no education. Sure, he occasionally liked to fuck with them and spout out his grandpappy's sayings, like every dog should have a few fleas, but that didn't make him dumber than a box of rocks. So, when he met a man who made his heart race and his mouth go dry with the thought of licking every inch of his body, then instantly put him down because he was making moonshine instead of wine, Shine dared him to try and drink with the big boys.
Montague knew better than to take the challenge to drink the moonshine Shine was offering, but he refused to be insulted by some hick from this small, backwater town. The fire that ignited in his stomach and burned a path up his throat, making him want to cry for his mommy, told him just how stupid he could be. Fucking pride. If Shine didn't get that smirk off his face at Montague's reaction to the battery acid he called alcohol, Montague was going to punch him in the mouth. Or kiss him. It was a tough call to make.
There is a fine line between love and hate, especially when alcohol is involved. Then again, it might take a little liquid courage to drop their defenses enough to discover their passion for each other.
Warning: Lots of alcohol was involved in the creation of this story. Lots and lots of alcohol. Does anyone have any aspirin?
Shine was over people thinking because he had a southern accent, and made moonshine, that he was a hillbilly redneck with no education. Sure, he occasionally liked to fuck with them and spout out his grandpappy's sayings, like every dog should have a few fleas, but that didn't make him dumber than a box of rocks. So, when he met a man who made his heart race and his mouth go dry with the thought of licking every inch of his body, then instantly put him down because he was making moonshine instead of wine, Shine dared him to try and drink with the big boys.
Montague knew better than to take the challenge to drink the moonshine Shine was offering, but he refused to be insulted by some hick from this small, backwater town. The fire that ignited in his stomach and burned a path up his throat, making him want to cry for his mommy, told him just how stupid he could be. Fucking pride. If Shine didn't get that smirk off his face at Montague's reaction to the battery acid he called alcohol, Montague was going to punch him in the mouth. Or kiss him. It was a tough call to make.
There is a fine line between love and hate, especially when alcohol is involved. Then again, it might take a little liquid courage to drop their defenses enough to discover their passion for each other.
Warning: Lots of alcohol was involved in the creation of this story. Lots and lots of alcohol. Does anyone have any aspirin?
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