Page 20 of Glitter

And the pink glitter had made a reappearance—heavily streaked over his cheekbones and across the narrow ridge of his pretty nose. He’d also stuck a pink, glittery star to his right cheek, the distance of one breathless kiss below the corner of his eye.

I wanted to spend hours looking at him, drinking in the loveliness of him. But at the same time, I didn’t want to spend another single second not being pressed up against him as close as two men could be. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to worship him. To devour him.

It had to be my imagination, the way my angel seemed to brighten when he spotted me as well. Yes, he’d told me—demanded—that he’d see me again tonight. But there was no possible way he could’ve been as eager, as restless, as I’d been, counting down the hours until we were back at Glitter, together.

My brain couldn’t wrap around that possibility.

His customary smirk was firmly in place as he called out to me, while I was making my way toward him, “There you are, boo. I knew you wouldn’t stand me up.”

“No, n-noo, never,” I stammered out, thankful I’d gotten close enough that I wouldn’t have to shout for him to be able to hear my reply. “I’d—I’d never do that.”

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to sweep him up in my arms and press my lips to his. In greeting. In gratitude that he’d come when he’d said he would. In joy, because seeing him simply made me happy.

And because I just really, really wanted to kiss him.

Oh, how I longed to finally get to know what his lips tasted like. Would they taste of the cotton candy of his skin—was that his natural flavor or some sort of lotion or perfume he’d applied to make him smell and taste like spun sugar? Or would his mouth be more similar in flavor to his cum? Saltier, deeper, headier, but still sweet, like caramel.

But we hadn’t kissed yet. The closest we’ve gotten was his breath on my skin as he teasingly whispered in my ear. My angel had never even hinted at initiating a kiss between us. No brushing his gorgeous lips over my cheek, oh so close to my lips but not quite there. No tense, fraught moment of hovering his lips close to mine but never quite closing the distance. Nothing of that sort.

For all I knew, my angel didn’t like kissing.

Maybe he didn’t kiss anyone. It might not be only me that he wouldn’t kiss.

But without doing the thing that my body was urging me to do—to kiss him—I flailed awkwardly, unsure how to properly greet him. Should I hug him? Wrapping my arms around him, even without a press of lips added in, sounded heavenly. And it wasn’t as though we’d never touched. I’d had my arms around him, and his around me, before. A couple of times. So, I wouldn’t feel weird giving him a hug.

Except…we’d been standing here next to the bar, in front of each other, for a minute or two. At least. And going in for a hug now, after I’d been standing here, silent and just looking at him like a doofus, while he…

Was he just waiting to see what I’d do? With that teasing, smirky smile that made it look like he was laughing at me?

At least he seemed amused by me. That was something.

But, yeah, going in for a hug now, after so much time had gone by, with neither of us talking…that would be weird.

So, I wound up ending the silence by stating the obvious. “You came. You’re here.”

Yep, that wasn’t as weird as a sudden, unexpected hug would’ve been. Maybe I should’ve just gone in for a kiss. Consent, and possible personal preferences, be damned. Except, I’d never do that. Not to my angel. Not to anyone, really. But especially not to my angel.

If he thought I was being weird, he at least didn’t make fun of me for it or bring any extra attention to it. He simply stated, “I said I would be. And so, here I am. And here you are.” He flicked a quick glance around the club over my shoulder, then added, “And so is everyone else. Or at least every other gay man in the greater Milwaukee area. Fuck it’s crowded in here tonight.”

Would that… Would it being so crowded tonight make him not want to fool around with me here? It hadn’t seemed like he’d cared the other three times we’d hooked up in Glitter’s bathrooms, but those nights, while crowded, hadn’t been as jammed ass-to-elbows as it was tonight.

With that in mind, I started to say, “Do you want to—” but before I could finish up the suggestion that we could maybe go somewhere else, somewhere less crowded, he interrupted me.

“Give me your phone,” he said. An order, not a suggestion.

Puzzled, I nonetheless slid my phone out of my pocket and handed it over to him. It’s not like I had anything on there that I’d care if he saw. The icons for the couple of hookup apps I had on there might as well be digitally coated in dust for how long it’d been since I’d opened them, but I wasn’t embarrassed about him seeing them on my phone. I assumed he had the same number, if not more, on his own phone.

I’d unlocked it with a swipe of my thumb as I’d handed it over, so my angel had no trouble accessing my phone and doing…whatever it was he’d wanted to do with it.

He tapped away at it for a bit, then held it back out for me to take back, saying, “Here.”

Taking my phone from his hand, I glanced down at it and saw that it was open to my maps app, with an address entered into the search bar. Still confused, I looked back up at my angel, just in time to see him fidget with a lock of hair before he flicked the entire headful of his pink curls, sending them artfully tumbling.

“Look, it’s no big deal,” he said, although the tone of his voice wasn’t quite as casual as his words. “I’m just not in the mood to be jammed in on all sides like some sardine in a can. And while it’s my turn to get a taste of you— Don’t think I haven’t been thinking about that fucking thick cock you’ve got tucked away in your bleh jeans and how good it would feel in my mouth.”

Blood rushed to my dick so quickly that I felt lightheaded. Or maybe that was because of him saying he’d been thinking of me. Specifically, thinking of having my dick in his mouth.

Not aware of my sudden lightheadedness, he continued on, as though everything in me hadn’t locked onto and focused solely on the mental image of his lips—cherry-slushy pink tonight—wrapped around my dick. “…and the bathrooms here look fairly clean, but they’re still bathrooms. And there’s no way they’re clean enough for me to let these pants touch those floors.”

---