The V- in 403C - Jess Bryant Page 0,2

before he left. He scanned his eyes over the blur of faces and moving bodies, looking for someone familiar. The crowd kept moving to the music, showing and then alternately hiding people from him among the ebbs and flows of the crowd. He was almost to the bottom of his drink, all hope of finding his friends to let them know he was leaving, had faded. He gave the dance floor one last glance but instead of finding a familiar face, his eyes landed on one that was completely unknown to him, and yet, he couldn’t look away.

The man was looking right back at him.

Jonah froze, not even daring to breathe, let alone blink, as the man on the dance floor looked at him. Even across the space of the dance floor, with the dim interior of the bar and the strobe lights, he could tell the man was beautiful. He was both taller and thinner than Jonah and though he looked young, there was something in his eyes, something dark and dangerous that hinted he was in no way innocent. Jonah swallowed hard when the man winked in his direction and a knowing smirk pulled at one side of his mouth.

The man continued to sway to the music, raising one hand and pushing his brown and gold streaked hair back off his forehead. It was short on the sides and longer on top, falling in his face and shielding his eyes momentarily. The hand, Jonah noticed, was connected to a thin arm that was covered in tattoos. They seemed to paint every inch of his skin right up to the tight-fitting black tee that hugged his thin chest and Jonah couldn’t help but wonder how far they travelled over that beautiful body. Some part of him ached to catalog each line and color, to learn every inch of the beautiful stranger, but the logical, rational, reasonable side of him knew he would never get that chance.

Men like the one on the dance floor didn’t go for guys like Jonah. He’d known plenty of them over the years, or maybe known was too strong a word. He’d met them, seen them, watched them from afar as they moved through the world with ease and grace.

They were always the cool kids. They were the jocks or the prom kings. They were the popular boys that didn’t look twice at nerds like Jonah unless it was because they were preparing to embarrass him.

Jonah looked away, breaking eye-contact, but not before he noticed the woman that was sliding her body against the beautiful man. She was gorgeous too of course. Honey brown skin and long black hair, tall and thin enough to be a model. Both of them could have been models. Jonah’s gut clenched as he gazed back down into his drink, knowing he’d stared too long at a man that was more than likely straight based on his friendly dance partner.

Meeting those eyes again would be a bad idea and he knew all the reasons why. Staring at people had gotten him in trouble more often than not. Straight men didn’t like being stared at by dorky, gay men. It was a lesson he’d learned early on when he came to college and it wasn’t an experience he was intent on reliving.

He could vividly remember being sixteen years old and alone on a college campus. It was the first time he’d ever really been in public, among the masses, and he’d been overwhelmed. He’d also been surrounded by men who were older than him, more mature than him, and a lot more experienced than him. He hadn’t known then that being gay was just another thing that made him different but it hadn’t taken him long to figure it out.

He’d been fascinated with the beautiful, popular boy in his Introduction to Sociology class. He’d stared at him, a lot. He’d daydreamed about having the courage to actually talk to the boy but he’d never gotten the chance. One day, after class, the boy and his buddies had cornered Jonah and beaten him up. They’d called him names, horrible slurs, and threatened to do a lot worse if he didn’t stop acting like a “gay freak of nature” as they’d so succinctly put it.

Jonah’s only friend at the time had found him and taken him to the medical clinic. He’d suffered a concussion, a black eye, busted lip, and two fractured ribs. Dawn had probably saved his life that day and not

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