Brad practically ran through the foyer doors and quickly unrolled the scarf from around his neck, relieved to be out of the bitter blasts of December wind. He wasn't sure exactly why he came for his old company's holiday party, and thought that he might still bail out. But curiosity, his friend Nancy and free eats got the best of him.
Not that he didn't enjoy the job, or hadn't made some friends that summer. Going home to his increasingly hostile parents wasn't really an option, so when he snagged a plum summer job the decision was easy. He had actually liked working in the legal department. Energy and drive were in ample supply, as the company was still not that far from its start-up roots. There were lots of different kinds issues that came up, from intellectual property to stock distribution to lease deals for renting space, and they all interested him. He wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to be in-house or in a law firm, but it definitely confirmed his aspiration to become a lawyer.
But this company was the past, and Brad had a lot of good reasons not to be sentimental. Some of the past wasn't so fun, but the future...a guy could change that. Even though he liked the job, he knew it wasn't where he was going with his life and wanted to move on. Of course, since he wasn't ever going back, there were a few hotties there who he could now pursue without any kind of workplace awkwardness.
He joined his friend Nancy Weber, the former co-worker who had roped him into going. The met right on time outside of the coat check and escorted each other into the main hall, arm and arm, as she joked about being his "beard" for the night. She was one of the few people he was out to at the firm and she was completely comfortable with his gay part, after she had suppressed her own crush on him. Besides the food, she held out the enticement of fresh meat in the software development department for Brad. She knew that would get him.
It has been a hugely successful year for the company and it seemed like there were a million tables in the main hall. They placed themselves for maximum viewing advantage near the dance floor where they could easily check out the hot guys and joke about who had the best chance with them.
Before that, though, they hit the food line. It was an incredible spread, way beyond the meat-and-potatoes of most Midwestern buffets. Since the company had a lot of Asian employees, there was a huge selection of Chinese, Indian and Malaysian food, in addition to the American staples like Roast Beef and Chicken -- and designer Pizza. Brad had gone out to lunch with some of these foreign employees and had developed a taste for satay chicken, roti prata, randang beef and other southeast asian foods. And he could go toe-to-toe with them in eating the spicy stuff. He as careful not to put away too much, though. A full stomach seemed to inhibit his libido, and he wanted to stay hungry this evening to really make it worth it.
As the evening wore on they evolved a finger rating system for guys, one finger being total stud and sliding down from there. "Brad, what about that one?" She pointed to a medium height, well-built blond guy. The music had just started and a few people had moved onto the dance floor and he was just moving out with a very busty, drunk date. "umm, well..." Brad held up three and a half fingers.
"Not higher? She was clearly smitten, and was ready with a five.
"nah, I dunno, dyed hair, looks dumb, kinda slutty date."
"Well, we've become picky, haven't we? Since when has dumb become bad? And what's wrong with slutty?" They both laughed, as he moved closer and put his arm around her shoulder.
"Lucky for you, slutty will never go out of style," he whispered, and got a nice knock in the ribs as a reward.
After a few minutes break she motioned at another guy a few tables away, but Brad didn't respond. She just saw him staring, and followed his eyes to a couple out on the floor who were terrific dancers. The guy was kind of cute, thought he didn't look like the hirsute, Neanderthal jock types that she thought Brad liked. Besides, he was probably straight and she knew that Brad didn't like to waste time on unattainable guys. But this time he seemed unusually distracted.
To Brad it did seem like just another beautiful straight couple dancing. But the way the guy carried himself was mesmerizing to him. He looked confident and self assured, but at the same time was very focused on his partner. Brad thought the guy was pretty good in the looks department, too. Slim, maybe a bit on the wiry side, with an angular jaw and lean, defined features, and with a tight, sweaty white shirt and dark slacks that showed off his trim body. These partnered hetero guys were such a turn-on to him, just so innocent and fuckable in their monogamy and straightness.
But there was more to it than looks. Something about this guy hit a spot in Brad. He was good looking, that's for sure. But he wasn't model or anything like that. And while he probably had a really nice body under that tight shirt, he wasn't any kind of muscle boy or jock, either. A lot of it wasn't about how he looked but how he acted, especially toward his partner. He wasn't your typical straight guy, staring at her tits or furtively feeling her up to play macho for a big audience. They were out there together, having fun, thinking about each other.
The guy seemed pretty serious the whole time, but when they missed a tag and she flew between and beyond his legs to a dead stop, Brad saw the smile. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen one quite like it, but this guy's smile could light up the room all by itself.
He had to admit that there weren't a lot of those smiles though, and he wondered why. The guy seemed content and all, and was really into what he was doing, but there also seemed something limiting him, constraining him. Like it leaked out at that one mishap, but was quickly back under control. On the other hand, maybe he was just thinking too much about this guy.
"Hey Brad boy, you awake there?" She gave him another poke to the ribs. Even though she knew he was gay, she never missed an excuse to touch him or feel him up "accidentally."
"Uh, oh yea, sorry. Just watching that couple dancing. They're really good."
"Yea, I know what's really good..." She gave him cynical smirk.
"There you go, mind in the gutter again." He only slightly acknowledged her but kept looking at the couple. "I don't know, I guess it's not just that the guy is cute. It's just that they seem so happy, so together." He sat back and folded his hands in front of him, getting a bit more relaxed, and, in a certain way, resigned.
"God, that's great. She's a lucky girl." He spoke very quietly, in a way that surprised Nancy. "Did you notice how he looks at her."
"What, so?" She said with complete bafflement.
"Doesn't it do something for you?"
"Me? Naw. Maybe he's just not my type."
"it's not about what type he is. It's just two people who seem to connect that's all. Even if they're straight." Brad never took his eyes off of them.
"That's right, and you remember that, stud. The chances of that guy playing for your team are infinitesimally small, so don't get too hung up."
"Yea, you're right. I don't know, something about him or them, or jeze, I dont' know what it is. Sorry. I'll try to get back to reality here." She noticed that he kept looking out at the couple, but was slumped down just a little bit.
The objects of his staring, Mike Kovar and Julie Novak, were really working the room. It was hard to imagine that two people could be so much in sync and so much alive, turning and twisting around each other like human tornadoes. Brad wasn't the only one who thought so, either. When they were on the floor you hardly noticed that anyone else was there.
As he reeled her in, he would shoot her between his legs and she would pop up behind him, turn around, and then roll over his back by doing a somersault over his head. It wasn't pretty sometimes -- they were rough and tumble, improvising as they went, more hip-hop than opera. But it was a great show.
Their intensity was part of the special relationship that they had, a mutual affection and dedication that was beyond friendship. In fact, it was at one time also a romantic love for Julie -- for this boy that she had watched turn into a man, that shy but friendly kid who had just arrived from Europe. Unusual for the boys, he gladly welcomed her into her first ethnic dance class at the local fraternal club, the Sokol, and was glad to be her partner.
As they grew older, she was crushed when he told her that he couldn't return her romantic feelings for him. And in true Mike fashion, it actually devastated him more than her, knowing the connection that they had and how it had clearly hurt her. But finally, after much turmoil and struggle it forced him to face the truth about the feelings that he had for so long. Though they were as close as two friends could be, it would be the first important divergence in their young lives.
But that didn't stop them the dancing together. It was something that they had both grown up with, and they would always be each others best partners. They had been paired now for 12 years, practically forever for people as young as them, and knew each others foibles and secrets as much as most married couples, not to mention an uncanny ability to anticipate the others next moves out on the floor.
Another interested spectator, Roger Kaminsky, Julie's fiancé, smiled to no one in particular, admitting that dancing was the one area where he couldn't ever make Julie happy, though he more than compensated for it in other ways. As a 6'-4", 245 pound defensive tackle on the football team, he wasn't exactly light on his feet, he had to admit. But in his role as `manager' of this duo, he tagged along and got to crash the company parties and events where Julie and Mike hired themselves out as ringers, or more precisely real dancers, to liven the party up when most of the people attending couldn't dance at all.
They would do east coast swing or wild tango or jitterbug or just about anything that would juice up the crowd. It was a great gig, since they loved to dance, enjoyed each other's company and made money for school. In that sense, it also clearly reflected their attitudes. Both of them decided that they didn't want the dishwasher or clerk jobs that most kids took, and were going to set their own agenda as much as possible when he came to how they would make their money. Tonight's crowd was a tough one, as software companies don't exactly draw a wild group of partiers.
Other than that, this particular night in early December was pretty typical, part of Mike and Julie's high season where they had to work almost every night to make up for the fallow months ahead. Though the engineers and assorted spouses and partners were not the party animals that you might find at an advertising agency affair, it must be said that they did more than held their own in the drinking department. With the good fortune that one of their products had gotten picked up by Nokia for their latest smartphone, they had tons of money to throw at a blowout party at the big Convention Center downtown.
There was a break on the dance floor when Brad decided that it was a good time to take a leak. Being an intermission, lots of other guys had the same idea so the john was pretty crowded. Spying the last open urinal in the corner, Brad took the spot and was unzipping his fly when the urinal next to his became open. And who would then come stand next to him but that hot guy he saw out on the dance floor. Suddenly, Brad became tense.
He was almost never nervous around cute guys, especially straight ones. He rarely felt intimidated or threatened. But something was happening with this guy that he didn't understand.
For about the first time he could remember, he suddenly became pee-shy. He tried everything he could, including staring at the wall in front of him, looking up, closing his eyes, looking at the wall to his side, nothing seemed to help. 'This guy probably thinks I'm some kind of weirdo, not tinkling a bit,' he thought to himself, but could not get the pee out. He was even starting to sweat. Thank God, they weren't alone in there, the silence would be deafening. He's not even sure he heard this guy do his peeing, but was totally relieved when he zipped up and went to the sink.
Brad was becoming real self conscious at this point. He'd already outlasted one guy at the urinal, maybe people would think he's cruising the john, which made him even more self-conscious. He did have his pride, and cruising bathrooms was only for the most desperate as far as he was concerned. Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, but was only about a minute, he was able to get relief. It was one of the longest pees he ever took. He couldn't figure out what made him lock up, but it definitely had something to do with that guy.
When the first intermission ended Mike and Julie resumed their magic out on the floor. But this night was to be different than other nights, and not in a good way. Imbibing geeks are generally harmless, but there was a big, mid-thirties refrigerator of a guy, over 6' tall and as big as a house, who put Mike on edge. This guy was clearly bombed, so thought nothing of dancing around the floor wildly by himself. For him it was funny to rudely bump into people, both accidentally and purposefully, especially the good looking women. As people got wise to the act he become like one of those magnets in science class that repels all the metal particles around it, moving people away in direct proportion to his proximity to them.
His focus on the good looking women made Julie a particularly inviting target. A petite blond and a formidable enemy if she didn't like you, her looks were probably a major part of the reason they had so many good parties. She and Mike were taking a break after another exhausting hour of dancing, with both of them practically soaked through with sweat. Mike had gone to get them some water when this guy stumbled over to her and leered, close enough that she could smell his Johnny Walker breath. Closer and closer he inched himself.
Brad saw this scene unfolding and became concerned. He had seen this big guy last summer, his name was Donald something-or-other. He didn't really know `Big Don,' as he called him, but he sure didn't like him right now. It looked like no one had noticed his threatening of this woman when he started to get out of this seat.
"whoa, boy," Nancy tugged on his jacket. "Don't make someone else's problem into yours."
"Nancy, I can't just sit here. She looks scared."
"Yes you can!" she ordered. "Let her boyfriend take care of it."
Mike was returning with bottles of water for both of them when he noticed what was going on. He quickly ran back over to Julie who was now on the edge of the floor, pushing several people out of his way as he scrambled over. Gently sliding her to the side, he inserted himself in between them. The big guy, who towered over Mike, was not pleased.
Brad held back, seeing how this guy had come up to defend his partner, but still kept an eye on them both. He saw trouble coming.
"Sorry guy," Mike said, looking right at the guy and not backing down an inch. "It looks like you've had a lot to drink and my partner here needs a break, so I'd appreciate it if you'd give her a bit of a breather, OK?"
"Oh yea, man, like sorry, didn't mean to fuck around with anyone, ya know? I thought you might be queer, you dance so good. Thought that maybe she wanted a real man."
Mike felt flush when the guy said this. He always worried about betraying himself, even though he knew that at this point it was just a figure of speech, though a provocative one for sure.
"OK, man, I'll go. There's just one thing I wanted to mention to ya." The guy was starting to turn away, but as he got about half way around he suddenly reversed himself and then...BAM!
He wound up and punched Mike square in the face, sending him flying 15' away and toward Brad, knocking down a table and sending screaming guests fleeing.
"Sorry, fucker, but I kind of like the lady, and just wanted to say hello," the drunk said with a sly grin, wiping his slobbering mouth with a filthy booze-soaked sleeve.
Mike struggled to get to his feet, even though he could barely tell where he was. Fortunately, the table had cushioned some of his fall, or he would have been hurt much worse. He crawled around for what seemed like an eternity, trying to orient himself and feeling a sharp pain in the side of his face. Using all his strength he was barely able to get one knee off of the ground.
Everyone in the area had scattered as they saw Mike reeling toward them and crash into the table, including Nancy, who was among the first to bolt. But Brad didn't flinch.
He didn't even know Mike, he just knew that this guy had tried to defend his partner but now needed help himself. Brad quickly moved over to him, placing his hands under Mike's arms, trying to lift and steady him as he was making a sputtering recovery. Besides getting hammered in the face, the crash into the table had really messed him up, but Brad could see how he wasn't giving in to the pain. This guy didn't look it but he was tough.
Mike felt two strong hands helping him from behind. Whoever it was, he was definitely strong, and it was all that was between him and a further tumble onto the floor. Somehow, and in a weird way, it gave him more strength, feeling this guy helping him up. The grip was steady and sure, though he hardly made a sound and didn't say anything. But just is looked like the bracing was having some success, he caught something ominous out of the corner of his eye.
Brad was also stunned when he realized that Big Don was marching toward them. It was all unreal to him -- the asshole had sucker punched this brave guy, and was now going after him, wounded and defenseless. The guy was huge and Brad was afraid, both for Mike and himself, but there was no way he was going to abandon him. "Stay put, bud," he said as he gave Mike a quick squeeze to the neck. "I'll be right back," not knowing for sure whether that would prove true.
He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, knowing full well the consequences of what could happen if he wasn't successful. But he knew that he had to do something -- and fast! It was fight or flight, and he chose fight.
He stepped over and stood his ground in front of Mike, who only saw that some guy just moved between him and the goon, and the goon seemed a lot bigger. Brads arms were down at his side, his legs spread apart slightly, both fists clenched. His stiff jaw moved slightly to one side. Unlike Mike, he was prepared for trouble.
Mike wanted to grab this guy, whoever he was, and put him behind him. It was his fight, after all. But he was helpless and knew it, barely being able to keep himself upright let alone defend himself and someone else. Yet he wouldn't give up, and summoned whatever tiny amount of strength he had left to slowly get to his feet.
Brad glared at Don and barked. "Back off!"
Don returned the look. "Ha! You little shithead North , gonna defend the beaten hero? Why, I'll take care of you right now!
The big guy threw a punch at Mike, who expertly blocked it, definitely surprising Big Don.
Brad had wanted to give the guy a chance before he acted. One chance to avoid a fight. He hated doing this kind of thing, but knew that there was no choice here. The big guy definitely wasn't prepared for this one, probably because of all the booze he'd put away but also because Brad knew what he was doing. Big Don thought that he could just swat him like a fly, but in reality he didn't have a chance.
After that it was all a blur to the anxious spectators. Brad quickly connected a right hook squarely on the guy's jaw, stopping him in his tracks. But he knew he couldn't give him any time to recover, and quickly followed with a left to the other side of his face, putting everything he could muster behind it.
He heard a crack and knew he had done some serious damage to the jaw, but also felt a sting in his own hand. It was the end of the line for the big guy, though. In a completely dazed state he managed to totter around for a while, one leg crossing over the other, miraculously keeping afloat. But after a couple rotations the force of gravity finally caught up with him. With all of the fat, his landing was more like a splash than a thud, but he was exactly where Brad wanted him.
There was no time for him to enjoy the victory, however, even if he'd wanted to. He glanced back and saw that Mike had gotten to his feet, barely. Instinctively, he knew that Mike couldn't make it on his feet and rushed over to catch him just before he collapsed again. Looking directly at his face he saw the wet, straight brown hair pasted to his forehead, and for a brief moment their eyes locked.
Brad was lost in the moment until he heard "Did...did he hurt you?" from a still struggling Mike.
"I'm OK." He replied with urgency.
"Good...." Mike was barely able to utter the word, and then he passed out.
The comment stunned him. God, how could this guy, who just got pounded, still be thinking of someone else? Brad wondered if he could ever feel that selfless about anyone. It never occurred to him that he had done something equally selfless when he stuck it out as everyone fled. He just knew that he had to do it.
While finding himself in what he thought of as the unlikely position of Good Samaritan, he couldn't help but notice that Mike really did have a nice body, feeling the taut muscles beneath the sweat-soaked shirt as he propped him up. At 6'-1" and 175 solid pounds, Brad was a bit bigger than Mike, maybe an inch taller and 15 or so pounds heavier. But it was still difficult to keep him upright, as he was so wet that Brad's grip was starting to slip. Not only that, but for some reason he couldn't get a good hold with his left hand. Fortunately, a couple of other guys then came over to help and together they took Mike out into the adjacent hallway.
Roger had been outside getting a sweater out of the car for Julie, returning just as Brad had landed his successful punches. This was Don's lucky break, as Roger wouldn't have stopped at two punches even if the guy was down and out. But knowing that there was no more trouble coming from his direction, Roger found a frazzled Julie and spent a moment to calm her down, reassuring her and making sure that she was still in one piece mentally.
Together they went into the hallway and pushed their way through the crowd, finally reaching Mike. With urgency in their voices, they asked everyone, including Brad, who was holding Mike up in a chair, to stand back so that he could get air. Julie had wet a napkin from the water bottle that Mike had gotten her and was just wiping his forehead when he stirred from the slumped position, looking around left and right, not knowing where he was. He was clearly groggy and started to say something in Czech, but as he got oriented and realized where he was he caught himself and spoke in English.
He looked up at her. "Julka -- uh - you OK?" Using a Czech version of her name in a place like this betrayed his confusion. He was a little stunned when he noticed all the people around.
"Jeze, me, I'm fine!" She almost chuckled. "But what about you? You took a shot from that fucking asshole! You OK?"
Ohhh, man, uh...I think so...God, my head hurts....fuck, and the side of my face." He buried his head in his hands, trying to get his bearings and figure out if he could stand up.
To Mike, it was all just a blur. He remembered trying to get to his feet and seeing the big guy coming at him, then someone stepping in between them. The next thing he knew, some guy with incredible brown eyes was holding him up. He somehow felt warm in the guy's arms, but he was too anxious about Julie to enjoy it.
"Just sit down there and get your head together, Mike. No more dancing tonight. In fact, maybe we ought to take you to University Hospital to get you checked out"
She turned to Roger and said quietly, "remember to watch his eyes carefully."
"I know, babe. I will," No one else could hear them as they spoke softly but urgently to each other.
"Ahhhh......Mike then stretched back, letting his head rest on the back of the chair. "I don't think so, at least right now. I think I'll be OK....I just need to get out of here and get some air...owwww." He winced as he said this, with the throbbing pain increasing in his jaw.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught site of Brad, who was standing off to the side of Julie but looking intensely at Mike as he gained consciousness. Even in that brief moment that Mike saw him before passing out, his dark curly hair and brown eyes had burned themselves into his mind. He wanted to say something to him, but was too distracted by the pain in his jaw and the fact that Julie wanted him out of there as soon as possible.
"You sure do need to blow this place, dude" Roger said, "but you aren't driving anywhere. Give Jules your motorcycle keys, and I'll drive you home in our car. When we get to the other end I can carry you out if I have to and Jules can park your bike." Mike had actually leaned to drive a motorcycle from Julie, and it was his vehicle of choice for local driving.
As Roger started to help him get up, Julie approached Brad. "Hey guy, thanks for standing up for Mike. That was really great of you," Then she got up on her tip-toes and gave him a kiss on the forehead and hugged him. "Thanks so much."
"No problem, you're welcome. I didn't really do much, but I hope he'll be OK." He said this with a sincere modesty that practically made her jaw drop.
"You did a lot!" she retorted and smiled.
By the way, my name is Julie Novak." She outstretched her right hand to meet his and gave him the firmest grasp that he ever got from a woman.
"Brad North. I'm glad to meet you. Hey, I hope that you're OK, too."
"Me? Oh, I'm fine. I get over this kind of stuff fast. But thanks again, Brad. We've got to get Mike out of here right now, but I hope we see you around," She and Roger carefully walked a wobbly Mike toward the exit at the end of the hall. Just as they got to the exit, she realized that she should have gotten Brad's number to thank him again later, but when she turned around he was gone.
But Brad couldn't stay any longer. He was glad that this guys friend, and for all he knew girlfriend, was there to help him. But when he had to give up his ministering role he couldn't face being there anymore. It was almost a heartbreaking to him. And why he felt this way he couldn't understand. But he just had to get out of there. Giving Nancy only the briefest of goodbyes, he was gone.
When Brad got home he had a lot on his mind. He started the evening going to this event with the ulterior motive of maybe trolling for some cock, and he did see a few potential hookups. At one time, that was all he wanted, or at least it sated him temporarily. But right now he had something else bothering him. He tried to sort out the people and was a little confused about who the big guy with Julie was, the guy who was going to drive Mike home.
Not that it mattered much, he'd probably never see them again, especially since he bolted right after talking to Julie and making sure her friend was OK. But he thought about it. Anyway, his left hand hurt like hell and he thought that he should maybe put some ice on it.
When he finally made it into his bedroom, he kicked of his shoes and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he clutched an ice bag tightly. He thought that for sure this guy was straight and probably in some relationship with that woman he was dancing with, so he wrote off any kind hookup. Yet he couldn't get his mind off this guy. Who was he? And who was she?
What really affected him was how they were connected to each other. Even among the married couples he knew, he never saw or sensed anything much like this. They had something special. In spite of all the things that some people said about him, and what he sometimes thought about himself, that was what Brad really wanted, too. A connection.
Oh, and those blue eyes. Who could forget those?