Vendetta Haus of BL || Yaoi Short Stories ||

[erikavendetta]

Thread of all the BL short stories I write in my spare time. Leave a comment or a thanks if you liked it, cheers~

 

 

MISS MICAH

 

 

Being a bouncer in the city is very different compared to doorman gigs in a small-town. Before I moved, I had seven years of security guard experience in rough-neighbourhood clubs, so I thought I could handle the metropolis scene just as well. But I didn’t know what to expect when I took on the job of guarding a cabaret venue in the gay district.

 

My first shift was set for drag act night. Admittedly, I was nervous. So I arrived early to scope out the area and familiarise myself with the crowd – the staff arrived to begin setting up, then the performers burst in with the kind of high energy you’d expect. But I was floored to see how many of these men turned up already in full make-up and dresses. I’d never seen a drag queen before, so I had to adjust my mindset quickly to refrain from staring. I felt no prejudice from the start; though I felt sincerely pathetic for being so unworldly.

 

Then, just as I’d thought I was over my shock, a boy my age passed by and effortlessly demanded my attention; with his heavily lidded gaze that had already been painted with tints of rouge around his eyes, he shot a seductive glance through me like I was glass. His square jawline was so sharply shaped into an illusion of an androgynous face, that if it wasn’t for his prominent adam’s apple, yet so elegantly angular, he’d have been easily taken for a woman.

 

Only once in my life had I been thrown completely by a person. Like a gong, I was shook by a familiar note that brought me back to the moment I first saw him, all those years ago…

 

My feet moved before my head even caught up, and I called his name for the first time in a long time, “Micah?!”

 

He turned to flick his windswept hair aside, and winced with a slight cock of his head, “I’m sorry, honey, I don’t mean to sound rude, but… who—“

 

“Ah, it’s Noah… we were in art class together in high school, ten years ago…”

 

“Noah… oh!” His eyes suddenly brightened, and his pale complexion flushed, “Oh my god, Noah! Christ, honey, look at you! I never would have recognised you underneath all that muscle! You look like you’ve been working out every day since graduation!”

 

His effeminate way of speaking caught me off guard for a moment, as it was so different to how I remember… but I found myself blushing. Quickly, I cleared my throat with a cough and composed myself as best I could, “Micah, wow, I haven’t seen you since high school. Did you move here after we graduated?”

 

“God, I wish I did. I’m much more at home in the city than I ever was back there.” He waved at me dismissively. And my breath was shallow. Even the flick of his wrist was beautifully feminine. He beckoned me easily with a wry smile, “Your shift doesn’t start until later, right? C’mon, I’ll show you the work room.”

 

“Are you sure? Am I allowed to go in there?”

 

“Don’t worry, baby. Just think of it as the men’s locker room, but with wigs instead of football uniforms.”

 

Every term of endearment he carelessly called me had a thrilling affect on my body – shivers down my spine, bursts of elation in my chest… I wondered, was I always this easily pleased?

 

He led me through to the backstage area, strolling by half-naked performers and bustling staff yelling orders around, but I never once gave them a passing glance. All the way in, I couldn’t stop watching the way Micah moved. There was a swing in his hips that was never there before. It was as if he stormed the world beneath his feet. And every now and again, he’d peek back at me as I lagged behind, and smile with the grace of royalty.

 

He perched before an empty vanity desk and immediately went to work on his makeup. As I leant against the wall, silently watching him paint, I could barely shape his image from my memories to the man I saw before me. Though he looked the same as how I remembered, he was a different person to how he used to be. Because now… he was shining.

 

“You must be surprised, huh?” Micah started, grinning with a charm that seized me, “Must be pretty surreal, seeing that quiet kid from art class dress up like a woman for a pay check.”

 

“…just as much as seeing that lanky kid from art class show up with a bulked-up body, I guess.”

 

Micah paused, before smiling warmly, “I guess that is pretty surreal. You were so tall and skinny, you used to tower over all the other kids like a lamppost.”

 

“And you always used to sit right by the window, completely alone, with your head buried in your sketchbooks…”

 

My voice trailed away then. As I remembered more of how he used to look, the overwhelming impact of his existence came back to me… as if fragmented shards of my memory gradually pieced together into a timeline of all the times I had subconsciously looked in his direction. Then I realised, I remember nothing of art class but him. The light from the window recreated a halo around his silhouette – I’d reimagined him as a cerebral being.

 

But there I was again, looking at him in that familiar way… awe-inspired, and fuelled by uncontrollable curiosity.

 

It was enough to knock around my composure, as I stumbled through nerves to ask the aching question, “How long did you, uh… w-when did you, um…”

 

“How long have I been doing drag?” He gently urged, “All my life.”

 

“What?”

 

“Stole my mom’s heels all the time as a kid. She thought she had a habit of misplacing her things when they turned up missing. Same with her makeup – I actually took tubes of lipstick to school to wear in the bathrooms.”

 

“You… you’re kidding!” I reeled in disbelief, “I never would have guessed… you were always so reserved…”

 

“Of course I was. Putting on my mom’s lipstick in secret isn’t exactly something I could just talk to anybody about.” He shielded his discomfort with a laugh, then leant closer to the mirror to hide his expression, “It was a very confusing time for me, y’know, having all these feelings inside of me and having no one to talk to about them. My youth was riddled with anxiety because I always had to suppress these urges inside. There was no supportive voice that told me that what I felt was okay. I couldn’t freely express myself the way that I wanted without feeling like… I was too weird… too abnormal… you said I was always alone, right? Well, I was friendless, because I was so afraid of being judged or hated…”

 

It hurt to listen to this. Because it suddenly made sense as to why he was so reclusive in school. He suffered in such silent ways that he never let it show. I bit my lips together, repressing a trembling frown. Whilst Micah nonchalantly waved his hands over his face to dry his makeup.

 

“But that’s all in the past now, Noah. Because when I put on my drag outfit, I don’t feel weird anymore… I feel powerful. Everything that I feel on the inside is expressed through the work I put into my looks, like a suit of armour. And I’ve come to accept myself as the beautiful person I never believed I was back then.”

 

“…I never knew you felt that way, Micah.” I empathised, compelled to admit, “I understand how it feels… especially since I was such a skinny guy, I dealt with a lot of body image anxiety…”

 

“Looking back at ourselves like this, doesn’t it make you wish you could go back in time and tell ourselves that it’ll all be okay?”

 

“Yeah, it does.” I breathed those words, as if I had no voice left to spare, “But I’m really glad I got to see you like this, Micah. You’re so different, and so confident… it’s really great to see how you’ve come into your own.”

 

“Thank you, love. I certainly didn’t expect to be accepted by one of my old classmates, let me tell you. I’ve been so focused on leaving my past behind me… so your gentlemanly treatment is admittedly a bit like closure. It feels good.”

 

He said this as he fit into his outfit from behind an oriental screen, so I couldn’t see what kind of expression he was making. But his voice had softened, sweetened, with that genuine authenticity that gave strength to his words. I felt so much pride and admiration for him… I was swelling with so many feelings for him.

 

When he stepped out in the open with black curls spilling around his face, and a slender raven dress dripping with silver jewels over his gloves and his necklace, I felt an eruption of madness that you could only call love.

 

The boy I knew in school, imprisoned by his confusion, was only the prologue of this beauty. I’d always seen his potential, though suppressed and silenced as he was, to finally see him unapologetically bear the soul of who he truly is… like standing in fire, I was consumed. Right then, he possessed me in ways that could ruin me – an attraction so strong that every fear I’d ever known could never seize me in dread the way it would if he left my life.

 

Micah posed against the doorframe, “How do I look?”

 

“Stunning.” I breathed again, only just.

 

“You’re a darling. Not at all like my arsehole of an ex-boyfriend.”

 

“Ex-bo…?!”

 

“I’ve come to accept a lot of things about myself through my drag, and sexuality was one of them.”

 

My feet stepped forward before my thoughts could register my actions, and the distance between us closed. Though respectful of his space, I held my hand over his shoulder and leant against the door.

 

“Can… I escort you home after this?”

 

“Noah,” he blinked, bewildered, “you don’t have to, that’s not in your job description…”

 

“I know. But… can I?” I asked, barely able to veil my desperation, “Maybe we can go for a coffee too?”

 

He smirked then, plainly aware of the hold he had around me, and nodded, “Alright. But if this is how you react now, then I’m interested to know what you’ll do when you see me perform.”

 

These words were just at the tip of my tongue, ‘as if you need to give me any more reasons to love you’, but I withheld them in my throat. For the rest of my life, I’d be at my knees in worship of his beautiful soul, and more of his surprises that will surely devastate me.

 

[jc310]

great story you have there..