Mariah.

Beautiful Stranger

13 posts in this topic

oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
The vibrant, colorful lights flash in repetition through the dark basement venue, synchronized with a heavy electronica beat, as a dizzy Dawson steps from the bottom staircase into the jungle. The scent of spilled liquor and a wide array of elixirs crawl its way into his widened nostrils, mixing with his overloaded senses. Removing his long black trench coat at check in to reveal a collared black mesh button-down clinging to his incredible, chiseled torso, and tight, black leather trousers, providing the perfect seat to his high ass, he passes through a slew of scantily clad, body glitter laden male patrons on his way to his private booth, tucked away in a back corner. While a celebrity in the waking world, in the depths Olympia's nights, he was merely a shadow—a mystery to all. And he liked it that way. His double life was one of America's best kept secrets, the bachelor exceptionally wary of who he'd allow in his inner circle, striving to maintain his newfound image of a clean cut, All-American prince and political prospect. So it was here he'd regularly creep to, where those who knew of his sins had their own skeletons to bury, while those who didn't either didn't care or wouldn't dare to.

The taste of the pill he popped upon entry lingers on his wet tongue while its particles slowly make its way through his bloodstream, to his cavernous cerebrum. His desire to venture toward his vices for the night was the last sober thought swimming through his mind as his wild surroundings wrap around him comfortably. Dancing amidst the sea of gay men while he continues to work his way toward his section, his eye catches someone unfamiliar to him, leaned against a pillar, trying to enjoy the music and his drink. Dawson's unable to turn his diluting pupils away, charmed by the man's boyishly handsome looks, wide eyes, and tight, little body. The prodigal son just had to know him; to have him. But he wasn't one to chase, for he preferred the control to be with him—for he, himself, to dominate.

Seating himself in his private booth, he continues to observe the stranger, steeping in his fantasies, until a moment to capture his attention arrives. "Hey," Dawson calls out as he reaches forward to strongly grab the gentleman by his arm once he passes by. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before. May I get a name?"
MONTY
@Jake
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR ME, I'VE HAD THE TASTE FOR DANGER
Tonight was finally the night. Dean Hansen completed his rather uninspired essay on toyetic marketing the night before and the time to escape of his stuffy USC dorm room was now. After hearing about the infamous night life of Erebus Square from a classmate, the always inquisitive Dean just had to check this place out for himself. Anything subversive intrigued Dean as unfortunately his life back at home felt like a horrible sitcom from the 1960s. Not even one of the "so bad they're good" ones that they show on Nick at Nite.

Dean began looking into his tiny closet space to see what he could wear. Actually, he didn't know what to wear. He shuffled around some old band t-shirts and fancy button-ups, but ultimately he went with the classic plain black tee with acid wash jeans. "This looks kind of club-ish." Dean thought to himself. He couldn't be more wrong.

The flashing lights, the body glitter, the strong mixed stench of sweat and 
alcohol; Dean instantly felt out of place once he walked in. He felt all eyes on him and could even hear laughter from the few eccentrically dressed men around him. Dean lets out a sigh and continues to move deeper into the club. His first night away from campus wasn't going to be ruined. Not long after, he suddenly feels a hand strongly grip his forearm. Dean quickly looks to see who in the hell grabbed him like that and then he locks eyes with one of the most handsome men he's ever seen. "Uhh.. it's Dean.. DEAN Hansen." Right after he gives out his name, one of the many flashing lights swirls it's way over and lights up this beautiful stranger's face, but is it really a stranger? "Oh! You look.. I swear this isn't a pick-up line, but I feel like I've seen you on TV before." Real smooth, Dean.
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
Dawson chuckles and looks down, meanwhile letting his patent, magnetic, wide smile radiate, as his cheeks sink to a shade of pink. It was a feigned humbleness that was reflexive in nature to the American royalty. He absolutely adored being recognized, even though his wish in these settings was to remain discreet. But as proven, such a wish was a rare possibility. Not until the drugs and booze blew a thunderous wave over the guests to drown them with their effects. But the gentleman—standing nervously before him—wasn't a regular for that, he gathers.

The kaleidoscope of colors cast shadows on the pair as a third body joins them, this being a bartender with Dawson's signature cocktail to wash down the ecstasy gradually filling his system. He winks at the serviceman after stretching upward to give him a peck on his lips, then takes a large gulp of the dry martini, hissing and wincing at its strength. "You know," he points his index finger to reply, thereafter wiping the remnants of the drink from his pursed, bow-shaped lips. "Funny enough, I get that a lot. Usually I'm mistaken for that guy from the Backstreet Boys. You know, the tall one with the dark hair..." He'd rotate his right hand forward as he tries to place names. "Kevin. That's it! You a fan of them?" His eyes narrow as he carefully observes 'Dean', studious of every minute detail. While its said not to judge a book by its cover, Dawson considered this one of his infinite talents—getting a read on someone by their appearance and body language. As determined previously, Dean's stance indicates he hasn't typically been in a setting like this before, but the ease at which he's willing to engage meant he was at least somewhat comfortable. He had to know people who come around here. He definitely wasn't new to the city, but he definitely wasn't from here. A college student, perhaps? Not a young one; the self-certainty indicates he was close to graduating. He was low maintenance and nonchalant; likely not in a relationship because he couldn't be bothered. Ah, that's my ticket. "Actually, ignore that last question. I'm more curious as to why you wouldn't be trying to pick me up. Clearly I don't bite. Right away, at least." He beams and winks again, this time toward the newest object of his attraction.
MONTY
@Jake
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR ME, I'VE HAD THE TASTE FOR DANGER
Wow, this guy's charisma is off the charts. Dean felt this weird blend of comfort and nervousness come over him as this devilishly charming man continued to speak to him. He debated in his head to either let his guard down or keep it up, because while he seemed nice - Dean could sense something mischievous about the guy. 

Dean lets out a little jittery chuckle. "Look I'm clearly out of my element here and I know a guy like you probably has some GUESS Jeans model waiting for you at your private beach house... or something like that." Dean looks down at the floor, as not only the bright club lights are shining in his face every thee seconds but this man's infectious grin is pretty intimidating.
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
"Actually, now that you mention it..." Dawson jests, still grinning, then takes another swig of his drink. "No, I'm just teasing you, Dean. I mean, if that were true, I most definitely wouldn't be here talking to you, now would I? Unless, of course, you were more my type." He'd quietly observe once more, watching closely as the tiny beads of sweat run down Dean's pretty face, either through nerves or the rising body heat. Cutting through the tension with a forward reaching open palm, he introduces himself in a quieter voice, purposely drawing his pursuit in close with both inviting gestures. "Look. I normally don't do this straight out the gate, but you seem like someone I can trust... at least I hope. The name's Dawson, as in Dawson Clarke. I wouldn't go around telling everyone that, however." The rising politician always knew how to strike the pitch perfect balance between threatening and warm, but above all else he was beguiling and seductive beyond measure. He knew this Dean character wouldn't be able to resist his wiles.

"You wanna sit down? I'll buy you a drink or whatever you like to take."
MONTY
@Jake
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR ME, I'VE HAD THE TASTE FOR DANGER
Dawson Clarke.. Dawson Clarke.. there was something about this man's name that instantly triggered Dean to begin sifting through the Rolodex in his brain. He repeated the name "Dawson Clarke" over and over, hoping it would eventually click. Is he an anchorman? an athlete? He has the looks of an actor, so that's probably it. Anyway, Dean nods his head and the two head to the secluded booth. Speaking of, this booth was nothing like the rest of this grimy underground club. It had this futuristic look to it, lots of neon, but the style looked Art Deco inspired. Dean knew this little section of the club was special and wasn't available for just anybody.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but your name.. god, it sounds so familiar and I've been racking my brain ever since you told me. What do I know you from?" Dean leans into him a bit,  ready to hear his answer as the sound of the German dance track pounds on booth wall.
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
Caught between a state of humility and shattered ego, Dawson snickers off Dean's lack of awareness. Of course this sad, lonely, small town boy would have no clue who he is, even subsequent to sharing his full name. He who had covered hundreds of magazines, from People to Playgirl. He who would draw massive ratings to many a talk show, both late night and daytime. He who featured in calendars targeted at every teen girl in America. It was as much of an insult as it was a relief, but it remained to be seen whether or not more knowledge should be shared; what card was to be played here? "Your dreams, maybe?" he coyly quips, raising his brows in time with another sip of his dry martini. He fixates upon the lively crowd as his pupils gradually dilate, the sights and sound igniting the ecstasy coursing through his veins. "Be honest with me here: if I were celebrity, would that change things for you? Intimidate you? Turn you on? What exactly are you looking for?"

Dawson was uncertain of the answer to the question himself, after pondering it in relation to his own motives.
MONTY
@Jake
2 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR ME, I'VE HAD THE TASTE FOR DANGER
So far the stories about Erebus Square were living up to the hype. Dean couldn't get over how a simple guy like him is already dealing with a strange.. yet intriguing encounter like this one. Just imagine what the regulars deal with every night. After Dawson asked his questions, Dean began to analyze this entire situation. There's no way this guy is actually a celebrity. Why would a celebrity even bother to talk to him in the first place? Or even be here in this little hole in the wall. Something wasn't adding up and Dean felt strongly that this was more than a huge scam.

Dean leans back into his section of the booth and let's out a snicker. "Well IF you were a celebrity.. I.. I don't know. I guess I'd think it would be kind of cool considering I've never met a celebrity before." Dean then rubs the left temple of his forehead with his index finger, struggling to think of the phrasing of his answers as the loud thuds from the music bang against the wall. "As for what I want? Honestly.. I'm just out here to have a fun time, meet new people, explore new places and to take my mind off a major I'm currently frustrated  with. You know what, thank you for taking my mind off that for a few minutes with this game you got going here, but I'm going to check the rest of this place. It was nice meeting you, Dawson." Dean starts awkwardly shuffling his way out of the booth.
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
Dawson's eyes carefully trail behind Dean as the young man attempts to escape the older and wiser man's maze. Agape lips project a sense of surprise at how easily he was dismissed, but gradually they curl into another bemused smile. It was a game of cat and mouse that the politician couldn't resist; he still had to have him.

Downing the remains of his dry martini in one large gulp—the apple of his throat protruding with the sting of the alcohol, as it soaks the inside of his neck—he thereafter rises to his feet and follows Dean from far behind, to the dance floor. The vivid lights and cold shadows cavort like the surrounding ocean of patrons, Dawson drawing nearer and nearer to the boy who caught his interest. Like Dorothy Gale through the haunted forest, every present man reaches forward to get a touch of the sexy, tantalizing Dawson and his incredible body, but his tunnel vision prevents him from losing his focus. Finally he's close enough to grab onto Dean again, turning him back toward him.  "Dance with me?" he suggests while leaning in with a whisper, breathing onto the fine hairs lining Dean's ear. His body close, he slowly begins to grind upon Dean's to the beat.
MONTY
@Jake
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR ME, I'VE HAD THE TASTE FOR DANGER
The assertiveness of this Dawson Clarke guy gave the naive Dean mixed feeling of fright and excitement. Dean couldn't help but stop in tracks as no man had ever been this determined to be with him. As Dawson asked him for a dance, Dean looked around the club and noticed the many eyes around the dance floor darting their eyes at Dawson and back at him. The same eyes who judged his looks when he walked in the club over an hour ago. Dean smirked at the attention this scene was getting and thought to himself that if he keeps talking to this man, it'll either be the most fun night of his life or he was going to end up in some sort of dungeon out in the middle of nowhere. Luckily there's witnesses.

"You know what.. sure." Dean says with his voice somewhat cracking in the middle of it due to his nervousness.
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
"Now tell me more about you," Dawson queries, his softened voice tickling directly against the lobe of Dean's ear once more so he's heard through the booming bass and erotic Spanish guitar of the next dance track.

Once never to chase, he couldn't help but be enthralled with Dean enough to sprint full speed after him. To Dawson, Dean appeared much like a doe, having wandered into the city and caught amidst speeding traffic. And Dawson, much like a curious passing child, wanted nothing more than to save him, catch him, keep him, guide him and tame him. The feeling was so sudden, but all consuming, contrary to the slow rush brought on by the pills and potions Dawson ingested. But through heightening senses—as the chemicals swim through his bloodstream to his aerated brain—he knew Dean was a rare prize for him to covet. "It's funny because you kinda remind me a little bit of myself when I was in university. I wasn't as shy as you seem to be, however. Was far more open minded. Inquisitive. Daring."
MONTY
@Jake
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR ME, I'VE HAD THE TASTE FOR DANGER
"You were in a university like what.. three years ago?" Says Dean with a sly smile on his face. Obviously referring to Dawson, who is clearly several years older than him, has youthful good looks. The Enrique track, while very pretty, was suddenly making Dean feel a bit awkward as everyone around him and Dawson began to slow dance or practically have sex while standing up. Luckily for Dean, there was an unoccupied table and chairs near by. Dean grabs Dawson's hands and shuffles his way over to sit down in one of the empty chairs.

As they both sit in the uncomfortable jet black chairs, Dean continues their conversation. "So I remind you of your old self? How so?"
MONTY
@Mariah.
4 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif HAVEN'T WE MET? SOME KIND OF BEAUTIFUL STRANGER
"Just in the sense of how new to this you clearly seem to be," Dawson starts, running his hand through his styled hair while his brows are tilted down toward his opposite, darkening the frame of his wild green eyes. "I've definitely been there before. Walking into a room full of hungry men, unaware of the politics, the dynamics, the secrets, the lifestyles. Being eyed down like a slab of fresh meat, especially by someone older... someone more experienced. But as I said, I was far more open minded and daring when it came down to it. I wanted to dive in myself and see all this world had to offer. I wanted to seize control of it and not just stand by and watch it all happen around me, to the point where eventually it would come to control me. I mean, wallflowers are kinda boring anyway. Do you disagree?"

Dawson squints and stretches his neck, having questioned his own approach. Then he reaches forward and rests his hand on Dean's knee, just high enough so that his fingers tease Dean's ripe thigh. "Look, you don't have to answer that. I realize I'm probably not helping you become more comfortable. I don't mean to intimidate you." He curls his fingers, then slowly pulls his hand away. "Listen. If you'd like, I can just leave you alone. Or if you're interested, we can... step outside? Maybe get some fresh air or a smoke of you're into that? I get that all the flashing lights and the music and the bodies can be overwhelming, especially when trying to get to know someone. But again: only if you're interested."
MONTY
@Jake
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!


Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.


Sign In Now

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

  • Similar Content

    • I Don't Want to Miss a Thing [M]
      By Mariah.
      .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 8px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } I'm wondering what you're dreaming; wondering if it's me y ou're seeing With his glass castle mounted high in the wispy clouds, the crowned King of Olympia—Dawson Clarke—felt remiss without someone to sit by his side upon the throne. Everything else would be coveted with ease, so it seemed. His mayoral campaign, more specifically, appeared without flaw, so it was simply a matter of time before he'd capture that prize as well. Now, as the sun set on another day in the city of dreams, his aim was to make amends with the person who captured his heart; someone who hadn't a clue how Dawson truly felt about him as of yet.

      The hour was drawing near: the moment Nathaniel Devereaux's flight would touch down in Olympia, and he'd arrive at Dawson's 'not so humble' abode. Dawson had already taken necessary measures to arrange their rendezvous, lighting candles around the luxurious marble jacuzzi bath, overlooking the sparkling city through transparent walls. After garnishing the steaming bubbles with rose petals and setting aside two bottles of the finest champagne, he awaits his chariot to bring with it his spoils. He undresses to merely a short cashmere bath robe, his muscular legs and tight glutes teasing the rest of his fine, naked physique which he worked diligently to craft. Then... the bell would finally toll, the driver requesting entrance through the gates to paradise.

      "I'm upstairs!" Dawson calls to his arrived guest once he heard the front door pry open, as he poured himself the first glass of Krug Brut Vintage to wet his palette, against the sounds of neo-soul on vinyl. Every second thereafter melts like sugar, into what felt like centuries, adding to the excruciatingly long wait for this dire reunion with his lover. The footsteps of designer dress shoes against the expensive flooring grow louder in echo through the mansion, when suddenly they'd come to a stop behind him. With his trademark, high wattage smile just for his guest, Dawson turns to face Nathaniel and quietly observes the unchallenged specimen; his hair a blend between silk and gold, his seductive smirk framed by a steel, square jaw, his powder blue irises locked in a narrow shell, giving forth a natural smolder. No one could compete—except, of course, himself.

      Slow in his path toward his mate, he arrives face to face, finally. "Would you look at what we have here," he greets with effervescence, stroking his palm against Nate's cheek, then takes him in for a tight embrace. "Color me shocked that I was finally able to pull you away from your Olympic training, for any time at all. Thought the Y2K apocalypse would end us all before I even got to see you again. And you look..." he pulls back, combs his green eyes over Nate once more, and exhales, "fucking amazing." MONTY
      @bratbynature