We met to "Can't help falling in Love" cover by Twenty One pilots. I was sitting at the bar with my sister, Rose, trying to get out of taking shots with her and her college friends. I'm not the biggest fan of hangovers, but who is. I see a man walk up to the bar, ordering a rum and coke. He sits a measly two bar stools away, but I could see his face perfectly. Blonde hair, blue eyed, broad shouldered hunk. He looked like a twin of Captain America, after they enhanced him.
I guess he stopped dancing because of the slow song, I don't really know, all I know is that he seemed to be taking demure glances in my direction. I blushed and looked away, for fear that he would notice my attention. I had known I was gay since seventh grade, when instead of lusting after Becky Li like all the other boys, I went for Jack Peters, the leader of the lacrosse team, and my best friend. We still email, but we're not close. I came out my Junior year of high school. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. I had told my parents and younger sister the year before, and they had accepted me through and through. In school, I got teased a little. Sometimes, you could hear words whispered down the halls, but no one ever confronted me. I lost a couple of friends, but my best friends, Lyn and Theresa, stayed with me, and that was the most fundamental key to my happiness.
So, Captain over there, (which will be his nickname), finished off his drink and went back to the dance floor. He could dance. He moved like water between people, never staying with one person to long. He rolled his body like he didn't have bones. He was a god on the dance floor. By now, I was quite warm and a little uncomfortable in my skin tight, blood red jeans with my cock perking up from Captain out there. Then, he looked at me, and winked. I shuddered at the thought of what that man could do in bed.
I noticed we had an audience as I looked at my sister. "So, that's your type."
"Shut up Rose, I don't have a type."
"Everyone has a type, like I'm into guys with black hair, blueberry eyes, and huge dicks."
"Ew Rose, you're such a perv."
"At least I'm honest, you can't even you have the hots for..."
"Am I interrupting?"
I slowly turn around on the squeaky barstool, seeing Leo, aka my boyfriend of 5 months. Leo is... well he's really smart. Like genius smart. He wants to major in analysis and functional analysis. Aka, math, and more math. I, on the other hand, was a culinary arts major. I had always wanted to own my own bakery, and it would be great to finally get my associates degree for baking and pastry arts.
Leo was a good guy, a smart guy, but not very social or nice sometimes. He was like one of those geniuses who didn't what was socially acceptable to say and not to say. Rose didn't like him, at all, but he was cute and funny, with his messy mop of blonde hair and glasses, along with his lean build since he liked to run and listen to math stuff that I still don't understand. He was very sweet to me, always acting like a gentleman.
The only problem with our relationship, for me, was that he kind of sucked in bed. He just couldn't seem to figure out how to pleasure a man. It was kind of sad, but I figured, if that's the only thing wrong with our relationship, then we must be doing pretty well.
"Hey there, geek, how's the numbers doing, discover anything new about pi?"
