[Sam furrows his eyebrows at that hand on his back, finally starting to put together the fact that there's something Not Right going on. Wait, he doesn't remember going to bed with anyone. Heck, he doesn't remember going to bed, or a few hours after ending up at a bar.
His eyes gingerly open trail down to the arm trapped underneath him.
no subject
His eyes gingerly open trail down to the arm trapped underneath him.
...are those circuits? Are those gold circuits?]
Huh.
[GOLD CIRCUITS, SAM. GOLD. CIRCUITS.]