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The girl cornered Michael just outside the bakery when his defences were down from a well needed sugar injection in the form of glazed donuts. She was good too, just enough careful flattery and straightforward explanation to make Michael think that this whole kissing a stranger thing was somehow a brilliant idea and didn’t just seem so as a product of his good mood and lengthy singledom. So he signed up, idly ticking that he had no preference who he kissed, and walked away, vaguely sure that he would never get the call anyway.
But he did get the call and that was why he found himself two weeks later in a small studio just outside Austin with no memory of what this experiment was supposed to achieve or why he had wanted to do it in the first place. Vanity he thought grimly. Some girl had called him cute and after that he was basically putty in her hands.
He was in a room with a dozen or so strangers, predominantly male. They were separated from their kissing partners so that, according to the same young woman that had accosted Michael (who introduced herself as Katie), they would truly be strangers until the moment they stepped in front of the camera. This was met with some alarmed looks and mutinous grumbling but, as Katie reminded them, they all knew what they had signed up for.
And so began a long wait. There was a bit of idle chatter but most people had their phones out and were resolutely ignoring each other in the way of people that were never going to have to see each other again after today. Michael couldn’t help but notice that everyone in the room was quite attractive which not only did wonders for his ego for being included, but also made him hopeful about whoever he was going to kiss.
Katie poked her head around the door and a few people perked up in anticipation.
“Zara?” she called and one of the few women in the room stood up and left. Everyone else lost interest, returning to what they were doing. Michael shifted nervously. He still wasn’t sure this was the best idea. But he had basically sold his soul now, almost literally judging by the amount of paperwork he’d had to read and agree to.
“Tyler?” Katie called again. Zara hadn’t returned so Michael couldn’t even interrogate her about what to expect. Which was probably the reason. His leg jiggled restlessly. Come on. Come on.
The numbers dwindled slowly. Some took longer than others and Michael was just convincing himself that he had accidentally found himself entrapped in some horrifying porn situation when Katie called his name at last.
He was lead into a small studio, very simple with white walls, some lights and a single camera. There was a young man standing in front of it, looking fairly laid back and was pretty cute in Michael’s opinion. He wasn’t handsome in a typical, in your face way but he had an endearing sweetness about him. He was tall and slim with a mess of scruffy sandy colored hair and a nose that was large but somehow suited his face. He beamed at the sight of Michael and Michael was so relieved that he didn’t appear to be a huge disappointment that he smiled back.
“Alright, mate?” the guy said. “I’m Gavin.”
“Michael” Michael returned shortly. Gavin had an accent. British he thought. He came to stand facing him so they were both side on to the camera.
“So do we just go any time or…?” Michael asked.
“The camera’s rolling” the cameraman shrugged. “So whenever you’re ready.”
“Are we talking just a regular snog here or wot?” Gavin said and Michael blinked at him.
“Speak English. Yeesh” he said before he could stop himself. He usually dialled back the asshole a little bit on first meetings.
“Exactly” Gavin said nonsensically. “English. The language of England.”
“You’d think you’d know how to speak it then” Michael retorted.
Gavin cocked his head. “Is this usually how you go about chatting people up? Taking the piss?”
“I don’t usually chat people up.” He didn’t try and deny the piss taking part.
“It shows.”
Michael glowered. “Well I’m sorry I’m not prince fucking charming, sweeping you off your feet and all that bullshit.”
The cameraman watched in interest as Gavin scowled back though it didn’t seem comfortable on his face the way it did on Michael’s. His face seemed more given to laughter and mischief than anger.
“I’m not asking for romance. Anything but all out hostility would be nice. I wouldn’t of signed up if I had known I was going to get such a grumpy minge for a kissing partner.”
Michael wasn’t sure what a minge was but he knew an insult when he heard one. “How do you think I feel? Being contractually obligated to kiss some big nosed, lanky British prick who can’t go two sentences without using a made up word?”
“Yeah well…” Gavin floundered slightly. “You sound like Joe Pesci.”
Michael reached out with such suddenness that Gavin was sure he was about to get throttled but when Michael’s hands landed it was with surprising gentleness, his big hands cupping Gavin’s face. The kiss when it came, however, was anything but gentle.
Their lips crashed together so hard that Gavin took a small step backwards, hands flying up instinctively to grab Michael’s shirt. Michael breathed a small laugh against his lips and then he was kissing him properly. There was a moment of fierce give and take as the two got the measure of each other and then Michael pressed forward, sucking Gavin’s bottom lip between his and eliciting a gratifying gasp from him. Gavin wrapped his arms more comfortably around Michael’s waist, pulling him close and pressing into him, warm and pliant in Michael’s arms. He kissed back hungrily, the soft slick slide of their lips quite audible in the silent room. If kissing could be a competition these two were treating it as one.
Gavin pushed for more, sliding his tongue insistently over the seam of Michael’s lips until Michael opened up for him and allowed him to taste. He was curiously bittersweet and spicy like the tang of cinnamon in a sugary muffin. The kiss turned positively filthy, almost sloppy, with the wet, eager press of tongues. Gavin’s hand tightened on Michael’s hip, his thumb hooking up under fabric to brush over warm skin.
The cameraman cleared his throat and Gavin instinctively pulled back but Michael chased his lips. He caught then with a lot more tenderness that he had displayed previously, a gentle lingering brush of lips. Gavin smiled against Michael’s lips, kissing back slowly and sweetly. Michael’s hand moved from Gavin’s chin to his hair, carefully tangling his fingers into the messy locks.
“Er…” The cameraman said. “I think we’ve got everything we need.”
Gavin thought Michael was just going to ignore him again, but he pulled away slowly, pressing a few more sweet, close-mouthed pecks to Gavin’s waiting lips before finally releasing him.
“Right” the cameraman looked a little bemused. “Thanks guys.” He turned away to fiddle with the camera, leaving the two boys staring at each other.
“Wow” Gavin said, apparently unabashed. “Is getting pissy a prelude to everything you do?”
Michael shrugged. “Most things” he admitted.
Gavin gave him a long look. “What was your name again?”
Michael’s head shot up, his jaw dropping, incredulity written into every line of his face. “You really are an insufferable human being, you know that?”
“Does that mean you won’t want to get bevs with me?”
“What?”
“Bevs. Beverages. Drinks” Gavin added when Michael still looked confused. “You know like me and you go to the same bar at the same time.”
“You mean like a date?”
“I mean like a date” Gavin said kindly, his eyes twinkling. “If you want.”
Michael stared at him for a moment. And then, slowly, he nodded.
“I do want” he said.
Gavin beamed.