S T A R B O Y 2|4

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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-

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