Page 4 of Glitter

The gorgeous guy I saw in the lunchroom almost every day. The one I’d been crushing on formonths.

He’d first appeared around a year ago, and I’d noticed him instantly. How could I not? He was tall and slim, with a fine bone structure that gave off an ethereal look only the world’s best supermodels possessed. He had dark brown hair that was long enough that it swept easily over his eyes when it wasn’t tucked behind his ears, with a tuft at the center of his forehead that was always a burst of vibrant color. Right now, it was a regal purple at his scalp that graduated to a royal blue at the ends, but I’d seen varying shades of orange, pink, green, and every color in between over the past twelve months, with even a shimmering silver at one point.

A string of white pearls hung delicately around his thin neck, matching the tiny pearls glued carefully along his sharp cheekbones. His makeup was flawless, letting a hint of stubble peek through the foundation that highlighted his sharp jawline perfectly.

Strangely, he wasn’t wearing earrings tonight. Just like I’d seen him with different hair colors, I’d noticed a staggering variety of jewelry he liked to dangle from his pierced ears.

His blue jeans looked well worn and comfortable, but it was the white angel wings strapped around his shoulders to his bare back that drew the eye more than anything else. His pale skin glowed enough that it made me think he’d dusted a fine sheen of glitter on his torso and shoulders.

He looked absolutely stunning.

Still singing away, his eyes met mine in the mirror as he applied mascara to make his almond-shaped eyes pop even more than they did naturally. He blew me an air kiss and grinned at me with glossy plush lips before refocusing on what he was doing, not missing a single lyric.

I felt myself flush at the unexpected playfulness. He’d always exuded a certain impishness whenever he was sitting with his work colleagues or friends, often laughing and chatting exuberantly, but I’d never been the recipient of his attention before.

It felt almost overwhelming.

I scurried quickly into the nearest stall to escape, leaning back against the closed door for a moment to get my breath back under control and settle my cock that had perked up. I still needed to pee, and trying to do so with an erection would not end well.

I’d barely finished what I needed to do and was about to flush the toilet when I heard the door to the restroom open again and the angel’s voice stutter to a stop. I automatically assumed it wasThomas coming to check on me and was about to call out to him to wait just a tad longer until I heard a different voice entirely.

“Well, well. What do we have here? A little gay slut all dolled up to whore his way around town tonight?”

I didn’t know the voice, but the tone of what was being said showed an adversarial familiarity all too recognizable. Most gay men had heard variations of the same theme as they grew up, usually from people they went to school with, family members, or both. I closed my eyes as memories of my old schoolyard bullies ran through my head. As much as I wanted to open the door and protect my angel from this idiot’s taunts, my feet felt glued to the floor.

“Really, Travis? That’s the best you can come up with?”

I could almost hear my angel rolling his eyes. There was a hint of tired exasperation in his voice, proving that this guy had taunted him many, many times before. The thought hurt my heart.

“Eh, you’re not worth my time.” I heard a zipper release, some shuffling, then the steady stream of liquid hitting metal. “Your food, though… Mmhmm,thatsure is tasty. Pity I have to put up with your ugly as fuck mug to get it.”

A slight pause, and another shuffle of material. I was waiting for my angel to respond, but he remained quiet.

“Fucking angel wings? It’s not Halloween yet, little boy blue, and you’re no fucking angel.”

I ground my teeth so hard I was surprised they didn’t crack. Silence filled the bathroom again before the zipper was done up.

“Nah, you’re just a try-hard wannabe who is so ugly that he has to resort to covering his hideous face with women’s makeup and flashy trinkets just to survive in a man’s world. It’s fucking pathetic.”

I could hear more shuffling, this time with what sounded like a ruffle of feathers. Despite that, my angel remained quiet.

Evil laughter filled the bathroom, then what sounded like a sturdy slap of skin on skin. It didn’t sound heavy enough to have caused any damage, more that it was just to shock the recipient.

Cursing the fact that my boss had my phone, I turned around and quietly released the lock, easing the door open just enough so I could bear witness.

A man in an ill-fitted black suit had backed my angel into the tiled wall where the hand dryers were, his wings crumpling behind him. Travis, a name I’d now committed to memory, towered over my angel, crowding him into the corner as best he could.

Considering my angel was a few inches taller than me, Travis was a giant. Even though I was hefty, there was nothing I could do to physically separate them if things escalated.

Noting his lightly pink cheek where the bastard had slapped him, I caught my angel’s furious eyes. He gave me the tiniest shake of his head before he turned his attention back to his tormentor. Both of his splayed hands were on Travis’s chest, preventing him from getting any closer, but I could see the straining effort he was putting in to keep them apart. The mascara wand that he’d been using when I entered the bathroom lay forgotten on the tiled floor behind them both, a black smudge trailing from the end across the off-white tiles.

“Listen to me, Travis. You’re drunk.” My angel quickly flicked his eyes to mine again, and I just knew he was talking to me rather than Travis. “As you said, I’m not worth your time, so do us both a favor and go home.”

I sniffed the air, and sure enough, amongst the lingering smell of cleaning chemicals, there was a distinct alcohol scent permeating the bathroom.

Travis swayed in place before slamming a hand on the tiles beside my angel’s head, making both him and me jump.

“Punk ass bitch trying to tell me what to do,” Travis slurred. “You ain’t got no right.” He flicked the squished feathers like they were an insect in his way, then slapped my angel’s cheek again. He held his chin in place before spitting in my angel’s face, catching him on the side of the nose. “Disgusting whore.”

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