"Dude, just relax. All we're doing is going to a bar. It'll be fun, I promise," Mike said, grabbing Adam by the arm. "We didn't drive all the way over here for you to pussy out at the front door."
The reluctant young man dug his feet in like a kid being dragged to the dentist. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all. What if someone we know sees us," he protested, his heart racing as he looked at the bustling club. The flustered, sandy-haired jock had never been to a gay bar before. Other than to his roommate, Mike, he wasn't even out of the closet, and even that discovery had been accidental. It was bound to happen sharing such a small apartment, but Adam had still been mortified when Mike discovered the porn he'd been watching. A lifelong swimmer and athlete, Adam felt like he had to fly under the radar. He was terrified that if people knew the truth they'd treat him differently. Given his outward charm, leanly muscled build and All-American features, Adam enjoyed a position of popular privilege, whether he sought it out or not. People just naturally gravitated to him, men and women alike, and though he felt increasingly like he was living a lie, he wasn't ready to risk giving it all up. He went on dates with girls to maintain appearances when forced by his friends, but word was starting to get out that the ripped, handsome hunk never seemed interested in finishing the job. Adam knew it was only a matter of time before people figured it out, that he'd have to face the truth sooner or later; he just wasn't ready.
Mike thought differently. The brawny, dark-haired hunk was every bit the popular, athletic Adonis that Adam was, and he didn't see any reason why his friend should have to hide. He'd been pushing the stifled man since the moment he learned the truth, trying to reassure Adam that no one would care. He used himself as the example, making it a point to still lounge around in his boxers and act the way he always did around the apartment after he found out. Mike had no problem flirting with other guys when they'd hit on him at the gym or when they were out drinking with their friends, and it had been his idea to drag Adam to a gay bar in an attempt to force the other man out of his shell a little in the first place. There were a few near their university, but Mike had volunteered to drive nearly an hour away just so they could go to one in another town where Adam wouldn't have to worry as much about being spotted.
"Do you want me to hold your hand," Mike offered, his wide, stubble-covered jaw offset by a wry grin. "Might make us fit in a little better."
Adam laughed and pulled his arm out of the other man's grip. "Aren't you worried about giving these guys the wrong impression?"
"Whatever, man. When in Rome..." the dark-haired jock shrugged. "Bet these dudes give some mean head."
Adam raised an eyebrow but followed along when Mike started walking. "Wait...are you telling me you're..."
"I'm telling you we just drove an hour away so you could be more comfortable. We're not driving an hour back unless one of us gets something out of it," Mike said, holding the door open. "After you, stud," he winked, giving his friend a swat on the ass when Adam passed.
The nervous jock froze as soon as he was inside. He'd never been anywhere like it. Men of all shapes, sizes, ages, and undress whirled by with the pulsing music. Adam saw lithe, slender men mingled with thick balls of hairy beef and everything in between. He saw younger guys that appeared to be around his age, all the way up to weathered, rugged studs that were at least twice, if not three times, that. With the flashing lights reflecting off the dance floor it was a kaleidoscope of masculinity, the one shared trait amongst the crowd being the overwhelming sense of freedom. Some men strutted by in nothing but a jockstrap, while others were dressed like himself and Mike in jeans and a t-shirt. Leather seemed plentiful, but so did lycra, leaving Adam with a feeling of whiplash as he looked from one scantily-clad man to another. He'd spent years swimming around in front of crowds wearing nothing but a speedo, yet Adam couldn't imagine feeling confident enough to saunter around a bar in some of the revealing outfits he was doing his best not to stare at.
As usual, Mike was far less concerned. "Whoa! Nice jock, bro," he cheered as a particularly chiseled young man walked by in a flashy, neon-striped jockstrap. Before Adam could comment, Mike peeled out of his t-shirt, exposing his prominent pecs and firm abs to the crowd. He laughed at his friend's stunned expression and tugged on the bottom of Adam's shirt before wedging his own into the waist of his jeans. "What? I'm just trying to fit in. Don't make it weird, dude."
"We've been here for thirty seconds and you're already getting naked," Adam sighed, shaking his head.
"How often do we get this chance? Let loose a little! You're every bit as jacked as these guys," Mike said, puffing his chest out as he felt the eyes turning in his direction.
Adam gasped when a hand reached around from behind and slid up under his shirt. "You should listen to your friend, hon," the stranger said, stroking his fingers along the surprised young man's abs.
The flustered jock was hit with conflicting emotions when he turned to face the grinning stud. Whoever he was, the man appeared only a few years older than himself, and was wearing nothing but a pair of mesh shorts not much larger than the speedos Adam was used to. He was also every bit as built, but as Adam gawked, he began to notice that the man didn't carry himself like the guys he was used to on campus. There was a flair to his movements and an ease to his posture, not to mention the unobscured desire in his expression. The sensation of the lingering hand on his stomach sent a thrill through Adam that was tempered by jealousy. Here was a man just like himself, living the kind of life he secretly desired.
"Or not," the man said, pulling his hand away. "Whatever makes you comfortable, sweetheart. First time? You've got that deer-in-headlights look," he said, his eyes going from hungry to sympathetic. He nodded at the beefy young bear behind the bar. "Go get yourselves some drinks. Tell Luke to put it on Charlie's tab."
"Uh, th-thanks," Adam stammered as the man turned and walked away.
Mike clapped him on the shoulder, beaming. "See? Free drinks and a new friend already! What'd you freeze up for? Guy was cute...you should'a hit that."
Adam ignored the comment, opting instead to find a pair of open stools at the crowded bar. They wedged themselves between a heavyset, older man in a polo on the left, and a fresh-faced Twink in a tank-top on their right. Before either of them could order, the shirtless slab of muscle behind the bar turned around with a pair of whiskies at the ready. "Oh! Thanks," Adam said, his stomach fluttering as he stared at the furry hunk's muscled torso. He felt dizzy and overwhelmed, both emotions clearly showing in his wide-eyed expression.
"I saw you talking to Charlie. You guys seemed like whiskey drinkers. I'm Luke," he said, his girder arms inflating as he leaned forward against the bar.
"You guessed right!" Mike took a long sip, smiling at the guys on either side in the process. "I'm Mike. This charming and talkative fellow is Adam," he said, nudging his friend in the ribs with an elbow.
