Bullheaded

it all helps to build a reputation. They’ll be watching me from now on.” As he spoke, he swept the room, culling the possibilities. “Anyone you got your eye on? I’ll keep my hands off.”
    Johnny noticed how the blond twink was ogling him with open lust, although he seemed rather crestfallen when Zane showed up. Something about the way most of the men in the bar either ignored the blond, or pointed and laughed at him outright, made Johnny feel sorry for him. “That guy seems interested.”
    Turning into Z-man on the cruise, Zane instantly dismissed the blond. “That swishy little queen? Too gay.”
    His words made Johnny feel ashamed about his own automatic reaction to the blond earlier. Something vulnerable about the guy’s face kept drawing Johnny’s attention back to him, although it might also have been the blinding sparkle of his sequined top.
    “I’ve never done it with a swishy little queen before,” he mused. “Could be fun.”
    Zane did a double take at him. “Listen, traveling with your fighter buds, you don’t get that much of a chance for tail on the road. Don’t blow a chance with a winner, like that hottie over by the wall. He’s cruising you hard.”
    “You never know, that queen might be the world’s greatest cocksucker.” Johnny smiled at the blond, who looked dazzled, as if he were either creaming his tight hipster jeans or about to pass out from the attention—at least until the DJ changed the music.
    Suddenly the entire group of sparkly queens snapped to attention and started doing a sharp little head tilt and hip shimmy thing Johnny thought of as “gay” while clapping their hands to one side and then the other without actually touching them together.
    “What the fuck?”
    Z-man laughed. “Lady Gaga. They’re doing the dance from the video.”
    As Johnny watched, more guys joined the group in the energetic dance, although he thought they looked more as though they were having a synchronized seizure rather than dancing.
    “Who’s Lady Gaga?”
    “What the hell kind of music do you listen to? She’s the one singing. You know, the one who dresses whack and pops out of an egg when she arrives anywhere? Very popular in gay circles, if you’re young and with it.” Zane looked impossibly superior as he explained, even though he was only a year younger than Johnny.
    Johnny answered, “‘Sometimes I think I Get Off on the Pain’.”
    “TMI, man! What the fuck are you talking about?”
    “Country music. Gary Allan, that song he sings about bull riding? That’s what C—we used to listen to.”
    “Well, don’t mention it in this kind of bar. Not only is this not a country music place, but there’s some leather guys here who would love to hear you say you get off on pain.” Zane laughed and flicked a cautious glance at a bunch of bears in leather who were ignoring them and mocking the Lady Gaga queens. “I bet they’d like to find out just how much pain it takes to get you off.”
    “Nothing like bullfighting pain,” Johnny countered.
    “True. It’s a specialized field. Like theirs.”
    The song ended with the group frozen in a pose Johnny recognized as being vaguely Charlie’s Angel-ish, and then staggering to their table, panting for air while grabbing for their drinks.
    The blond he’d been looking at started eye fucking with him again now that the floorshow was over, although only with one eye, as the other was hidden behind the careful swoop of his bangs.
    If Johnny was so fucking brave in the ring, why couldn’t he go over and talk to the blond?
    Because it’s completely a different thing , Johnny answered himself. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” he muttered, and stood up.
    “You’re not going to do it!” Zane whispered, but then he turned practical. “If you score with that swish, you gotta tell me if he’s any good.”
    “Fuck off,” Johnny said good-naturedly. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
    Ignoring Zane’s laugh, he walked toward the blond, who seemed to vibrate with excitement as he drew closer.
    “Can I buy you a beer?” Too late, Johnny noticed the blond had a drink with a pink umbrella in it, stabbed through some pieces of fruit. Typical.
    “I’m good. Let me buy you one, stud.” The blond queen beamed at him.
    His response made Johnny feel even more ashamed of himself, especially as he was surprised at how much more feminine the guy was up close. He indicated his bottle of beer. “I’m set. Name’s