Longing for Adonis
I was the first to spot him.
The stranger walks in with an inhuman grace. His gate has a fluidity that I've only ever seen in documentaries. The kind the teachers make us watch in class about exotic predators when we have nothing better to do. Very little learning actually goes on at school. That's what you get with public education.
My attention is quickly drawn back to the stanger. Every movement has a purpose. Every shift of his stance or flicker of his eyes is meant to draw in his prey. The wolf makes no attempt to hide what he is among these sheep.
He should look silly in that midnight colored suit from several decades ago, but he wears it like the finest armor. A bright red neck tie pulls wandering eyes up from long legs to a handsome face. Bright blue eyes framed by dark lashes and matching dark hair compliment his high cheek bones.
Thick strong lips are dusted a light pink. They are not so full as to be pouty. They are not a woman's lips. They have an unyielding firmness that makes him look all the more desirable. Poets would have once written songs about such a masculine beauty. Maybe they still do, who knows?
He oozes sensuality with a careless ease. It's more than enough to make anyone jealous….or hard. I know this man could have anyone he wanted at any time. He knows it too. There is a confidence in his eyes that not a single person in this school could ever match.
Not even Terry McGinnis.
Can mortals even stare at Gods without going blind? If not, then I can die happy with this as the last thing I ever see. Paintings do not hold a candle to this man. Nor do sunsets or open fields. Blindness would be a kindness after seeing something so unmatched in splendor. This is the kind of man I think Terry could one day be. His youthful beauty one day refined to perfection. It's food for thought at the least.
The room suddenly spins for a moment. Before I know it, Nash has me pressed against the lockers, one of the dial locks digging into my back. I know from experience it will bruise. You would think all the lockers would have been fitted with the nice flat card readers by now. Cut back are a bitch.
"What are you looking at geek?" Mild curiosity and condescending disgust filled Nelson's face. He seems to be under the impression that as a jock it is his job to pound my bones into dust. His determination confuses me as he acts like touching me will give him geek cooties. I didn't bother closing my eyes as the young jock pulled his arm back to swing.
The room went silent.
My mind needed a moment to process the sight before me. Apparently, everyone else needed a moment as well. Nelson's fist was mere inches from my face. Another hand was tightly gripping the wrist of the dumb red head. A hand that was attached to a wrist, which was connected to an arm, covered in a black suit jacket.
"Only the weak minded would prey upon those who lack physical strength."
The stranger's voice was deep and rich. It brought up images of dark chocolate and rough velvet. Icy blue eyes bore into Nelson. The dumb jock was immediately cowed by the obviously greater alpha male in the hallway. I wonder why this man didn't just call me weak like everyone else?
"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't mean it, you know?" A nervous chuckle followed Nelson's pathetic plea. No matter how hard he tried, the red head couldn't hide his flinch of pain as his wrist was squeezed a little harder before its release.
"Leave. Now." I didn't think that voice could drop anymore octaves; It made my spine tingle. The look leveled at Nash was so cold I was almost certain this man was related to the late Dr. Victor Fries. Most people forget he was a doctor. Random thoughts are random, Willie. Refocus.
I turn my eyes back to the only male other than McGinnis to stand up for me. It seems like I always get a knight in shining armor to save my ass. No wonder I'm bisexual.
Holy slag biscuits, Batman. This guy was tall…and broad shouldered…and did I mention hot? I'm pretty sure I did. It was at some point before Nash grabbed me and…
He was still standing in front of me.
He was standing in front of me and holding my wrist in his large warm hands.
He was standing in front of me, holding my wrist with his hands, and inspecting it.
He was inspecting my wrist with those intense blue eyes…..intensely.
You try being creative in this situation!
This guy had sharp baby blues that held the same exact shade as Terry McGinnis. Come to think of it, they both had dark hair too. If this is what Terry was going to look like in ten years then Dana Tan is a fucking moron for dumping him. Or did he dump her?
That's it, screw women. I'm going to be gay. Forget being bisexual. I'm going to be so far back in the closet I'll find Christmas presents in Narnia.
Are you all right, young man?" legitimate concern colored his voice as I snapped out of my sexual identity crisis. It had been a long time since anyone cared to ask little Willie Watt if he was ok. I wonder if he's into younger men?
Damn, I have it bad.
"Y-yes, thank you. Were you looking for the principle? I could show you to the office before my next class, if you want." God, I hope I don't sound too eager. I wasn't even this nervous when I asked Blaze out to a tutoring session. Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be rejected a second time?
"The offer is very kind of you, Mr. Watt. However, I know I'm in the right place. I came to pick up my assistant before a big meeting." A crowd was gathering around us now. A few had stopped and stared at the confrontation between Nelson and the stranger. But now it looked like everyone in the school was looking at us. It didn't help that this man's voice was smooth enough to be called sinful. Wait, he knew my name?
"You know my name?" A deep rich chuckle filled the silent hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I'm fairly certain over half the school blushed, boys included. This man should narrate audio books. Hell, I'd settle for the phone book.
"Of course, Terry always talks about his more interesting classmates. You wrote a paper about applying Jarvis Tetch's mind control in the medical field to better direct the body's healing process when a subject suffers from extreme illness. Very few people are willing to revisit Gotham's darker past and learn from it. It made an impression." The polite smile grew into a full blown charming smirk. Damn that smile! I don't think I can feel my legs. …wait. He said Terry. Why would Terry pay attention to me? "I didn't know that Terry was so interested. I knew his grades had improved, but I had no idea he was interested in the medical field." Academics, I can deal with academics, as long as the focus stays off me. I can do this.
"He isn't, but he knows how to spot talent that could be a future resource for the company. Miss Gibson has already decided on two internships she would like to be a part of while obtaining her doctorate. I already told her she had plenty of time to decide. She's quite eager about it all." At hearing about Max I felt a conflicting combination of elation and stupidity. Terry as an assistant, Max Gibson gunning for two internships, and teaching Terry how to spot a future employee all pointed to one man. God, I'm a moron.
"So you must be Mr. Wayne. I heard about Dr. Isley's personal attempts of redemption. She named the compound Phoenix Rising didn't she?" Keep it on academics! Don't mention how you thought he would look older or how good he looks in a suit. Pull it together Watt. You can do this. "Yes, Pamela thought it fitting." He used her first name. So, he has either known her for a long time or they could be lovers. Dr. Isley did say that she had wronged Bruce Wayne in the past. Is it too much to hope they're not lovers? Probably.
"Hey, Mr. Wayne." The crowd parted like the red sea as McGinnis made his way through the horde of onlookers. Terry had a silly smile on his face as he discovered what had kept his boss. "I was just getting my stuff together, we can jet now. Max said she'd swing by the mansion later for that letter of recommendation."
I was taken aback by the playful wink sent my way by the young assistant. I have to admit, I'm a bit dumb struck. Here was Terry McGinnis: former juvenile delinquent and all around bad ass, talking to Mr. Bruce Wayne about letters of recommendation like they were simple and common practice for a man of his employer's position.
Wayne smiled at his "go-for" and nodded in confirmation. When they both turned their gaze to me, I felt the wind nock itself out of my chest. Eyes shouldn't be so blue. And even their smiles seemed similar in the florescent lighting. They were like twins separated by a decade of maturity. The thought shouldn't have been so appealing. It continued to be very appealing just to spite me, I think.
In fact, it was looking better by the second.
"Thank you for your time Mr. Watt. We really must be going, but take my card. Feel free to contact me. If you would like to consider a possible future with Wayne Enterprises we should talk more on the matter when you visit." He pulled the card out of his breast pocket, brushing my fingers with his as he left the small rectangle of information in my hand.
….He had said when not if. I don't think I can bring myself to be offended.
As they turned and left the school I clutched the card to my chest. All I can do is feel the weight of Mr. Wayne's business card in my hand and savor the feel of old fashion paper with expensive engraving.
I know two things with absolute certainty.
One: I had just gain the attention of the two most powerful people in Gotham.
And two: When I got home I was going to jerk off harder than I ever had in my life.