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Carl’s only aware that he’s still staring when the dude smiles right at him, nodding a little. Carl blinks out of his stupor and turns away without acknowledging him, feeling a little flushed and not from the drinks.
It’s not that Carl doesn’t pick up in clubs or even that he’s bad at it. It’s that more often than not it happens when he’s grinding against a willing body and he’s feeling drunk on both alcohol and adrenaline, so it’s easy to just slide his lips over someone else’s skin and breathe in their scent, getting caught up in the sensations.