GENRE: Gay Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 4,141 words
Blaine is a well-dressed, high-priced attorney, and George is a hairy mountain of an auto mechanic. This odd couple meets up one evening on a slow night at a bar. The pickings are slim. Slim enough for these opposites to eyeball each other and ask themselves just how bad they want to get laid.
Pleasantly surprised by the evening’s outcome, Blaine is faced with a dilemma. Should he throw caution to the wind and pursue George, or steer clear of that unexpected distraction to his carefully structured life?
NOTE: This story appears in the author’s collection, Snapshots.
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.
Blaine’s gaze fell first on the stools at the bar before scanning the room. It stunned him to admit he was disappointed George wasn’t there. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. The very fact he’d returned to the same bar where he’d found George the previous Friday -- something he never did -- should have been a clue.
The part of the surprise that hit him like a brick wall was the fact that he felt disappointed despite there being a number of suitable singles prowling the dimly lit room. Suitable. What did that even mean to him now? He found an empty bar stool and sat down.
“Skinny Pirate, right?” The bartender stood in front of him, enquiringly. The man earned his tip.
Blaine sighed and turned in his seat to gaze around the room. He spotted a few men he’d gone home with before but wouldn’t go home with again, and another that he’d been with and would typically consider as a possible repeat. The man caught his eye and started toward him.
Christ, why was that his instinctive reaction? Double fuck. Fucking King Kong getting under his skin. He should go home with this man and put George out of his mind once and for all.
“Hey. Blaine, isn’t it?”
He supposed it was a good sign that the man remembered his name. Sadly, he couldn’t return the compliment. “That’s right. I’m sorry ...”
The man smiled cordially. “Aaron.”
“Right. Sorry, I’m usually pretty good at remembering names.”
“Guess I wasn’t that memorable, then. Damn.”
“No, no. I remember you. Just ... shit. Got something on my mind right now.”
“Something?” Aaron laughed. “I recognize that lost look. You’ve got someone on your mind, man.”
Blaine barked a short laugh. “I’m not generally that readable, but yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
Blaine’s drink arrived, and he turned to settle up.
Aaron laid a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Well, good luck with that. See you around, eh?”
“Yeah, sure.” Blaine’s reply was absentminded. He knew in his heart that he wouldn’t have gone home with Aaron even if the man had asked.
What the hell was he going to do, though? If he wasn’t going to move on with another hookup then he needed to do something. Pursue George? Fucking date? Hell, what had George thought of him? Would George even be interested in a second hookup, let alone want to try out a relationship?