[a work in progress]

Part 1: They Meet


My first glimpse of him was through a cloud of smoke from my cigar. He had the sort of naturally commanding presence that drew all eyes to the door before he had even entered the room. Even if it hadn’t been intentional, it’s tough to avoid drawing attention when you’re a 6’4″, 350 pound bodybuilder. But this was intentional; this man knew exactly what he was doing and he was enjoying it.

It’s always amusing to bear witness to the ebbs and flows in energy that happen in queer spaces, especially those frequented by aficionados of leather and kink. The usually jaded and aloof bartender practically snapped to attention and didn’t waste so much as a breath before starting to make the giant’s drink at the same time he was replacing mine. With unusual speed, the barkeep slid a drink in front of me and another to the newly-arrived giant before disappearing to the other side of the bar. I took a sip and realized that the adorably absentminded bartender had given me the wrong drink.

When I looked up, the giant had a slightly puzzled look on his face and it was instantly clear to both of us what had happened. He made his way closer.

“Let me guess; you’re a Tito’s & soda man.”

“Guilty as charged. Do all human mountains drink Jameson, or is that just your thing?”

We shared a chuckle and I extended my hand. “Michael.”

His massive hand dwarfed mine as he shook it firmly in response. “Pleasure to meet you, Bika. I’m… wait. Let me get you a fresh drink, sir.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m not worried about a little saliva. Bika, huh? That’s not one I’ve heard before.”

“It’s Hungarian, like me. Well my mother’s half of me anyway. I was 9 pounds at birth and the doctor’s joked that I dragged her through the hospital, so she named me Bika. It means bull.”

“Jesus. So you’ve always known how to make an entrance.”

He shrugged sheepishly, “I guess so.”

I raised my glass. “To making an entrance!”

“To making an entrance, sir.”

The care with which he so lightly tapped his glass to mine spoke volumes about the man inside this beautiful giant next to me. I tilted my head back slightly and took a long draw from my cigar as I studied his eyes. When he noticed, his face went blank and he looked down at his glass like he was willing it to speak to break the awkward silence.

“I don’t think I have ever seen such beautiful amber flecks in a sea of blue.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry that you have beautiful eyes? Or that I paid you a compliment?”

“Both? No… I don’t know. I’m just…” He turned up his glass and finished it with an audible gulp.

“You make me nervous,” he continued. “and that’s fucking with my head because nobody makes me nervous. And somehow in the space of less than ten minutes I have fumbled my own name and called a stranger sir – twice.”

I may have let a smirk out as I leaned in close as though I had secrets to reveal. He dipped his head toward mine.

“Call it a hunch, but I think what really has you freaked out is how much you like feeling those nerves. If I was making a wager, I’d bet my left nut that Bika’s cock is as hard as a bull horn right now. Am I getting warm?”

I looked him in the eye again and the gentle giant looked like a doe in my headlights.


“Yes what, bull? Can I call you bull? I think I’m gonna call you bull.”

“Yes, sir.”