Strawberry Daquiri

Chapter 1 - His aura

He walks into the club with a strident confidence and assured sexuality that makes all the men stare This is exactly what he wants. He stands inside the door for a second to let them take him in; 5'11", slim, dressed in a tailored shirt and a blazer which accentuates his narrow waist and broad shoulders, slim fit Levi's 511s, and brown leather Oxfords that match his belt and gold-trimmed watch. His masculine form and dress belie an undercurrent of femininity which evokes a magnetic aura, and makes the gathered eyes wonder; what is he hiding under that expensive shirt? Is he a swimmer? No, with that ass he must be an exotic dancer, where could he be from? He smiles softly as his eyes drift from left to right, and he thinks; who am I ***ing tonight?

At the bar he orders a Strawberry Daquiri and sits on a stool with his back slightly arched. He surveys the dancefloor as he waits for his drink, watching the writhing bodies like a predator. By the end of the night one of these men would be screaming His name. Love is such an impressionable game. The music judders in sync with the strobe lights.

Behind him he is aware of the distinct sound of people trying to speak in hushed tones, and failing under the influence of alcohol. He smiles to himself. He puts on his most demure expression and turns slowly around to look at his admirers, who have fallen silent upon being looked at. He makes eye contact with one of the guys, who is trying to hold his mouth from entering into a stupid grin, and he intensifies his gaze. The guy smiles. He beams back. He doesn't notice the barman setting his drink on the bar. He keeps smiling at the guy before breaking eye contact and turning back to the bar, throwing a soft "thanks" at the barman. He hears the hushed voices continue. Gotcha.

He takes a sip of his drink and detects a hint of bittersweet almond. Disaronno? He gets this drink every weekend, and they've never put Disaronno in before. He takes another sip. Creative License, I suppose.

He feels a firm hand on his shoulder. Mister Hush-Hush is trying to show him who's boss. He smirks. That's cute. He slowly looks around, and they make small talk. Mr Hush sets the ball rolling.
"Hey there."
"Hi."
"So, what's someone like you doing at a bar on your own?"
"Thinking."
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"How cute you sound when you're trying to whisper."
The guy smiles sheepishly.
"You heard, huh?"
"My senses are on point."
"What Evan said about... about your ass, he talks about everybody like that. I don't really go in for sexualizing everybody, it's shallow and-"
He chuckles, looking down.
"You didn't strike me as the shallow type."
The guy smiles, genuinely. He is struck. He tries his luck.
"Well, you strike me as the vulnerable type."
"I like to be open. What's the point in hiding anything? Besides, being vulnerable attracts other like-minded people to me."
Mr Hush leans in closer, speaking softly into His ear.
"Are you saying you think I'm vulnerable?"

He turns His face towards him so that they are a lip's breadth apart. Mr Hush's breath catches in his throat. They hold their gaze for an intense moment, before He breaks the trance by moving his head to the side, so that his lips hover beside Mr Hush's ear.

"No. But I'd like to pry you open."

The corners of Mr Hush's mouth slowly raise.
"You know, Evan has a point. You have a great body. I love a guy that takes care of himself."
"Oh, it doesn't take much. I'm a bit of a fussy eater." He smiles sheepishly and looks away. Mr Hush reaches up and gently brings his face back to meet his gaze.
"I think you're gorgeous."
He activates the doe eyes.
"Thanks. I do go to the gym a bit, so it's not all natural!"
"Pssh, it's still all you. Every..." (he discreetly grabs His ass) "inch."
He pretends to be flustered.
"I..." (he draws a shallow breath) "uh, do a lot of cardio."
"Oh? What kind of cardio?"
He throws him the killer sidewards glance.
"You said I'm an open book. Why don't you read me and find out?"
Mr Hush grins like a wolf. Perfect.
He takes Him by the hand and leads him to the back of the club in the general direction of the bathrooms. Jealous and knowing eyes follow. As too do the barman's.

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