My muse has drawn your number. Send me “closet” and I’ll generate a number to see what our muses would do while stuck in the closet together for 7 minutes.

12. Kiss on the neck.

    _{3 minutes to go until their friends opened the door, and Jack had to admit he was really starting to feel the name of the game. He thought that maybe Elsa’s expression as he kissed up her throat implied she might be, too. While he hadn’t even been planning on going to this party, nevermind getting tipsy, and most definitely not playing one of the dumbest drinking games he’d ever of, he found that he was not regretting a single decision he’d made that night. That would wait until tomorrow morning, when his mouth tasted like bad choices and cheap alcohol.}

    _{For now though, his mouth tasted like Elsa. He pressed against the soft skin  underneath her chin before his lips trailed towards the side of her neck, leaving the beginnings of dark marks wherever he kissed. His thumbs idly rubbed circles over her hips even as a particularly obvious hickey formed at the edge of her jawline just underneath her ear. The ribbing they’d both receive when their game ended and all of their friends noticed those marks already sounded in his head, but it was definitely not the most important thought right now — and definitely not the most important sound.}