A D A M
While Camille tended to the other patrons, Adam turned around in his seat and leisurely sipped his drink while he scanned the crowd. He needed to know if any interesting people, or rather any interesting men, were here tonight.
One guy kept popping up in his field of vision. A really hot guy. But every time Adam saw him, he was dancing with somebody else.
Adam scoffed. What a player! A really, really hot player...
The next time he spotted him dancing with another dude, he made his decision: This was the one for tonight. Adam wanted him.
Finishing the last of his second Starry Night, he hopped from his seat and stumbled. Oops. It looked like the alcohol was hitting him more than he thought it would. Whatever.
Adam put on his best game face and ruffled his hair. Time to play the player.
He elbowed his way through the crowd— very politely, he might add—and prepared to knock the hot guy's socks off with his seduction skills. But when Adam arrived in the middle of the dance floor, he was gone.
It wasn't unusual for people to change spots while dancing; you had to shift with the mob after all. But at least he should've been able to tell approximately where the Hot Guy (™) had gone.
But he was gone. Like gone-gone. Like nowhere-to-be-found-gone. He cursed his luck. Maybe he left with the last bloke Adam had seen him with. Damnit, would've been way too good. Had those arms even been real?
After spending a few more fruitless minutes searching the crowd, Adam opted to fuck it—which would not be Hot Guy (™), bloody shame, really— and move on. There were plenty of other attractive men around. Another chance would come soon enough.
Adam bypassed the time waiting for that chance with dancing, his reason for coming here in the first place. Getting a shag out of it is just a bonus.
He got lost in the song until all the sweating bodies disappeared and it was just him and the music. His eyes fluttered shut. He could still see the white and blue lights flickering around from behind his eyelids. The bass thrummed through his body until it was the only thing that mattered
He had no idea how long this went on, but it ended all too quickly when someone bumped into him so hard that he winded up on the floor.
He hissed in pain and opened his eyes to give that stupid bloody bastard a piece of his mind. Adam might have only been 5'9'' tall, but he would fight him if he needed to. White gloves and all!
Adam and his opponent spoke at the same time.
"Hey! Whadd'aya think you-"
"Oh shit, fuck. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to- I just. Here, let me help you."
He saw a hand enter his field of vision and the rest of his slurred words got stuck in his throat. There was a snake tattooed onto it. On their own accord, Adam's eyes followed its scaly body past the strangers elbow and up to a very good-looking biceps and an even more good-looking face.
Why hello there, Mr. Hot Guy (™)!
What did he want to say again? He couldn't remember. What did he want to think again? Was he even capable of thinking?
Apparently not, since all Adam could do at the moment was stare. After a few seconds, his brain thankfully rebooted, and he finally took the offered hand. The guy pulled him up to his feet in one go like he weighed nothing. The man could probably bench press him to days on end-
Focus, Adam. Focus!
But Hot Lord, this guy was hotter up close. How was that even possible? Adam's gaze flickered a bit lower, away from his face and back to the biceps. And Sweet Baby Jesus, these arms were real, alright!
He wanted to touch them, let his hands roam over those muscles, to trail his fingers down his chest, lower and lower until-
"Hi," Hot Guy (™) offered, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed nervous.
Even though he was almost as tall as Pete, the gesture made him look like a child who'd just stolen the last cookie but had gotten caught. That's kinda cute, Adam thought.
Adam blinked a few times. He should probably say something. Something interesting. Something seductive. Or at least something remotely intelligent.
That was his plan, after all; to knock the guy's socks off with his seduction skills. What came out of his mouth was this instead: "Hi."
Yeah. Things were going great for him today.
"Uh...sorry," Hot Guy (™) cleared his throat. "About pushing you down, I mean."
Oh, he could push Adam down again at any time.
He was probably staring too much and looking more than a little starstruck, but damn! Those arms were way too distracting. And that tattoo? Adam had a thing for men with tattoos. He wished he could wind himself around Hot Guy (™) like the snake on his forearm-
Adam snapped back to reality when the guy tilted his head to the side like a puppy. Adam loved puppies. But then again, who the bloody hell didn't? It was really unfair though: how could he be hot and cute at the same time? Such sheer attractiveness should be illegal. There was nothing that could ever top that.
Lord, give him strength!
When he frowned, Adam's left brain finally reminded his thirsty right brain that he'd been talked to and should probably answer. He might have been good at...non verbal seduction techniques but even that required more than "Hi."
But what had he said again? Something about pushing Adam down?
"Oh. Yeah...uh." Apparently, just because he had planned on answering, didn't mean he would actually remember how to speak properly. But damn him if he didn't try. "S' okay. You didn't do it on purpose...I think."
He thinks. He thinks? Bloody hell, he hadn't even been capable of that a few moments ago, but now he thinks? Good job, goblin brain. Maybe he'd at least get an award for participation because how things were going Hot Guy (™) definitely wouldn't be his prize.
"Yes. No! No."
The guy shook his head so quickly it had Adam's own spinning. He should really cut down on the booze for tonight.
"I mean, no.," he stammered. "Of course, I didn't do it on purpose. The whole pushing-you-down-thing."
You could, if you wanted to, Adam thought. He sure wouldn't stop him. Heck, he would beg him, if he had to. Probably shouldn't say that though. At least not yet. So instead he nodded.
"Neat."
Neat? Neat, he'd said.
Would someone please bump into him again? But this time walk all over his body so he could die and never open his so drunk yet so thirsty gay mouth again.
The silence between them continued.
Well, silence as in there was no conversation happening. The speakers were still turned to the max, and the bass still thundered, vibrating the air. People around them were still singing and dancing, not bothered by the two men standing awkwardly in their midst.
Adam had no clue how to proceed. He knew how he wanted the night to end, preferably with some good filthy sex, but getting there was proving to be bloody impossible. Luckily for him, Hot Guy (™) seemed to have some kind of plan.
"So..." he began, raising his voice enough to be heard above the new track that had just started to play. "Are you gonna tell me your name or should I just call you Starboy?"
It took Adam a second to realize that some remix of The Weeknd's Starboy was playing. It was because of the glitter on his cheeks, wasn't it? This was way too corny, even for his drunken state. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and he couldn't suppress a snort. Starboy, huh?
"That was a terrible pick-up line." He also raised his voice against the music. It turned out that a club apparently wasn't the best place to have a decent conversation. Who would've thought.
Hot Guy (™) looked almost sheepish and bit his lip. Which was very cute and very hot. Bloody unfair level of attractiveness. Curse him!
"Really that bad?"
"One of the worst I've ever heard."
"Oh." Adam thought he might've seen him blush. "But did it work?" The hopeful tone in his voice made Adam decide to end the man's misery. He chuckled and shrugged.
"Looks like it," he said and took a step closer. He didn't do personal space when it came to flirting. "My name's Adam."
Hot Guy (™) hummed in approval. Now that was a sound Adam liked to hear, though he'd prefer it to involve bedsheets and fewer clothes.
"I think I like Starboy better though," he grinned.
And holy guacamole, was that a dimple on his left cheek? Adam had a thing for men with dimples. It didn't matter if two or just one. On the face or...other places. Dimples were love. Dimples were life.
Nicknames, however? Not so much.
The only one he'd ever had was given to him by his mum. Addy she'd like to call him when he was younger. Still did, sometimes, and he really did not need to think about his mum right now.
Adam crossed his arms over his chest. "Too bad," he huffed. "M' not the biggest fan of nicknames."
The smile on Hot Guy's (™) face fell in an instant. Damn, he'd gone from happy puppy to a kicked one in less than a second. Adam didn't like kicked puppies, he liked the happy ones with wagging tails and cutely tilted heads. And apparently, he also very much liked that look on hot guys. Specifically, the one in front of him.
Kink-shame him. He didn't care.
"Well, I guess I could be so gracious as to make an exception for you," Adam sighed and moved even closer. "If you tell me your name," he purred.
Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Hot Guy's (™) lips spread into a crooked smile. The dimple appeared again, which was maybe even better than the puppy eyes.
"It's a promise then. I am Ethan."
HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. If you liked what you've read, please don't forget to vote or comment. That can make a little bookmoth's day ;)
xx Motte