Grouse Thicket drinking at a playground, tequila for one

The air between them seemed to vibrate, and it was enough to finally make him cave in and move nearer to her when she touched her brow to his chest, as though to listen to his heartbeat, as steady as it had ever been. Bruges, having experienced the drug before, knew to keep focused on the present, without allowing himself to delve into any of the thoughts that passed through his mind, fleeting as they were. Like silver fish below the surface of water, those thoughts were quick, and had the potential to pull him in- but instead, he kept his gaze focused on the general, on the surface of the water and its beauty. And even in just the surface of what was going on, there was a siren-song beautiful enough to keep him enthralled. 

She pulled away a bit, and began to run her muzzle over the fur of his shoulders, reminding him of a mother's gentle touch, and he couldn't help himself but utter a soft, gentle moan as she did so. She spoke again, but the words flit past his ears like butterflies, the words obscure but the tone calm and endearing. Slowly he leaned back, lifting his head with a gentle, calm motion, and brushed his muzzle against the cool, fiery fur of her cheek, half expecting the touch to burn and surprising himself with how soft and feathery it felt. Unable to stop himself, he gently kissed her cheek, and began to comb his teeth through the fur behind the nearest, ginger ear, trimming his teeth carefully along its fine edge.