Damien took a deep breath and tried to keep his fraying courage together. He walked up to the beef of a doorman and hoped he didn’t look too nervous. “Um. Hi.”
“ID.” The man said. It wasn’t a question.
Goddamn, why was he so hot? So toned? So sexy in leather pants? Damien was already getting an erection just from the smell of the leather. Ughhhhh. Why did he wear slacks to a leather bar? He should have brought a change of clothes to work.

When Damien handed over his ID, he noticed the doorman only had one glove.
“Ah!” He shoved his hand into his denim jacket pocket. He’d found a glove coming out of the subway earlier. Why he kept it, Damien wasn’t so sure – but he loved anything with real leather and he liked imagining it belonging to a hunk. Would make good jerk off material at least. Damien never expected it belonged to an actual hunk.
“Is this your glove by any chance?”
The statue in front of him suddenly came to life. Dude actually smiled. “Oh hey! Hot damn, yeah I think it is! Where did you find it?”
“Coming out of the subway,” Damien stammered.
“Shit. I had them in my back pocket. A dear friend gave them to me. I was so upset I lost one on the way over.” The man exchanged Damien’s ID for the glove; he took it with a fond look and slid it on his hand. “Perfect. Thank you, man.”
The guard stuck the gloved hand out.
Damien shook it. The grip was dominant and thick. Goddamn that alone made the blood rush to his dick. “No-no problem. The leather’s a good look on you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

The guard opened the door and stuck his head in. “Hey Liam, give this guy a drink on the house will ya? He found my glove.”
Damien blinked. No one had ever bought him a drink before! He blushed. “Thank you Sir.”

The man chuffed. “I like you. Get in there.”

Damien found himself thrust into the darkness of the bar. The odors of beer, leather, and musk washed over him. He exhaled. God he loved he scent of men. Liam was watching him at the bar. Damien walked over to a stool. There was a hot towheaded guy in black chaps and a harness next to him. Mmm harnesses.
“Mind if I sit here?” Damien asked.
The towheaded guy looked up from his phone. “Oh you’re a cute little otter aren’t you?”
Damien blushed. “What’s an otter?”
“Aww you little innocent gay boy.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a skinny bear,” Liam said. “My boy’s an otter.”
“I’m an otter?” Damien repeated. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Oh honey no,” the towhead said. “And that’s a good thing. Otters are rare in gay leather bars…more men that like them than there are otters…”
Damien’s eyes went wide. Was he being HIT on? What parallel universe had he waked into?
“Uh uh—”
“Do you want that drink?” Liam asked.

Damien thought. He looked at the glass in the towheaded guy’s hand. “Get him another of whatever he’s having. I’ll have a Blue Moon.”
“Ooo he’s buying me a drink. I like this otter. What’s your name?”
“Damien.”
Another hand shake. This one warm and soft. “James.”
Damien smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
James scooted the chair closer. “So you come here often…?”

As they began to chat, Damien began to wonder if that glove was magical. He also pondered if that guard outside was really a person, or some sort of spirit. When Damien and James left the bar together later, he was thoroughly surprised to see that the beefy dude was still there.

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Captions are fictional.