Buffy the Vampire Slayer 5
The music wasn't the best he'd ever heard and there were a million other places in the world he could have been. But there was nowhere else he wanted to be but right here, his eyes devouring Oz standing under the stage lights.
He couldn't explain what it was about the guy that drew him in so helplessly. He had seen better looking people--was a better looking person himself. It was just that there was something so fascinating about Oz, something that drew him in with helpless attraction.
He felt like a mosquito being sucked in by the glowing light of a bug zapper. He knew it was dangerous and that he should probably fly in the opposite direction as fast as he could... but he was helpless to the pull.
"So that's the guy, huh?"
Connor twitched and looked at Butch, trying to put on a clueless expression and knowing he kind of failed. "Huh?"
"Come on, Con," Butch said, giving him a sympathetic look. "That's the guy you're all hot and bothered about, isn't he?"
"Gotta admit, he is kind of tasty. Though those leather pants are tight enough he's probably permanently neutered himself."
"Leather pants?" Connor snorted. "Like I'd want anything to do with that brain dead moron. No, look at the guitarist. He's great."
Butch grinned and turned back to face the stage. "I knew you were Rowdy enough to hang with the boys, Connor. Sure, I was a little worried the Kent DNA would turn you into a goody-goody, but you pulled through in the end. Congrats."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Connor demanded.
"Nothing," Butch said. "I was just being proud of my little nephew, that's all."
"You're weird," Connor said, focusing his attention back on Oz.
As though feeling his eyes on him, Oz lifted his head and looked right at him. A faint smile quirked his lips and his right eyelid lowered in a slow, deliberate wink. Connor felt as though he was going to come right in his jeans and he couldn't even explain it.
He had grown up with the Justice League running in and out of his house. Incredibly buff and gorgeous men and women in skintight spandex that honestly didn't seem to realize how nearly-indecent their outfits were. He had actually nuzzled his face against Wonder Woman's phenomenal breasts and wrestled with Booster Gold. He had raced the Flash around the world, and when he'd tripped into the other guy, he had had his body tangled around the lean and lithe other man until he'd had a hard time figuring out which arms and legs were his own. He had learned tumbling from Nightwing and had even gotten to run his hands through that long black hair. His best friend was Robin for gods sake.
He had been surrounded by some of the most beautiful and physically awesome people in the world. So why did the sight of a short, skinny, pale guitarist make it hard for him to breathe?