Garth stands smiling and his dimples form at the tips of the sides of his lips, his eyes are bright and dilated with love.

“Garth stands smiling and his dimples form at the tips of the sides of his lips, his are eyes bright and dilated with love.  He hands over a flower, “Is it tomorrow?”  He has on khaki beige pants and a black tank top that accentuate his muscles and body.  The dude had gone home to change.

Jagger takes the flower, “Holy shit no way.  Thank you.”  He reaches over and grabs Garth by the front of his shirt, his flirtatious and naughty smirk in place.  He pulls him inside, “Get in here.”

Garth towers over him like a bully and a sly dog with good intentions.  He leans in and kisses Jagger’s lips tender. 

Jagger puts his hand up and backs away, “Make yourself at home and kick off your shoes.  My place is your place I suppose.”

“Awesome.”  Garth looks around with a smile kicking off his flip-flops.

“Feel free to change the music if you want.”  Jagger heads into the kitchen. 

Garth makes his way over to the stereo looking over the music selections. 

Jagger brings a tribal vase into the room.

Garth pops in some smooth grooves music.  He continues to steal eye contact from Jagger with a smile as if he were reading from a hot, sexy book and catching his stare whenever he would hit a naughty word.  Jagger can’t keep his eyes off him unable to believe the guy is in his living room.  He is in complete and sheer amazement.

“Do you know that I can’t remember anyone giving me a flower before?”

“You?  You’re joking.  I don’t believe that.”

Jagger shoots a look at him, “Seriously, no one here is as romantic and gesture giving as you might think, at least no one I’ve met.  Something this world needs some definite help with.”

“Nah-I can believe that man, the romance is dead here no?”

“It certainly seems to be that way wherever I look.”  Jagger sets the vase down and studies the flower.  “This is much appreciative.  You’ve floored me again.”

Garth roams around the living room scoping out the place.  He spots the Maori figure, “Whoa!”

“Yeah, it’s my form of a stick god I guess.”

“This is awesome!”  Garth feels even more connected to him than before and loves the similarities.

Jagger walks over and his finger traces lightly over Garth’s tattoo, “I see you’re protected by the gods as well.”

Garth’s eyes pierce into him, “Ace mate, we’re both watched over.”

“Did you and I fight in another life time?”

“Probably, but neither of us won, we had to surrender to each other.”

“That we have done.”  Jagger backs away a significant distance nervous being completely alone with him in close quarters.  He turns around and starts to adjust the flower, wants to do anything to keep his mind off the uneasiness.

The living room has low lighting and is rugged at night like in a mountain cabin.  There are a few candles lit around the place.  The sliding door to the balcony is open to a degree letting in the warm summer night breeze to envelop the love intensity that is building at an expedited rate.  There is an illumination from the moonlight outside which oddly makes a near cross on the wall. 

The music starts up and Garth heads barefoot towards Jagger quickly with complete and devouring intention.  Jagger jolts surprised and afraid to move and drunk with love.  Garth slows down in front of him and they sway without touching.  They face each other alone, checking each other out, discovering the tremble in Jagger’s hand, the shapes of Garth’s muscles, particularly the two monstrous ones that peer out like massive passion fruit. 

Excerpt from:  Jagger’s Revolution:


The Script Adaptation….


About Kevin Hunter


Posted on August 26, 2012, in Dude Lit, Dude Literature, Gay, Kevin Hunter Author Writer, Romance, Sex, Trashy Beach Reads and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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