Damian Luv 
Match Office

The young man had been in his dorm room earlier this afternoon, sitting on the futon with a friend of his and just watching television; of course said friend was a girl on skype who was watching the same show as it aired this morning, when his cell phone rang. He hadn't recognized the number at first and paused the show to stand and take the call in the other room, his quiet feet bear on the cold tile floor of their kitchenette. ’[b][color=f7941d]‘Damian Luv? We've located your match.[/color][/b] And that was all the young man had needed to hear for him to hit end and quickly say good bye to his friend before jumping into the shower. He couldn't just be dirty when meeting his match for the first time; he had to make a good impression so he would like him, regardless of how he dressed.  He dried and dressed and was out the door with plenty of time to spare to make it to the office before the time of the meeting.

Damian could feel his heart hammering in his chest and his fingers trembled with anticipation as he walked across the campus, his dark jeans complimenting his long legs while the black sweater he wore concealed most of his awkwardly pale skin and the tattoo’s on his arms. He hoped that his match didn't mind tattoo’s too much, because each one was a part of the young man’s life one way or another. His dark black hair reflected the light with a gloss and deep purple sheen as he stepped through the patches of sunlight between trees; his eyes were a soft shade of blue that sparked with his excitement at finally being able to meet someone who could love him for who he was, someone he wouldn't have to pretend for anymore. At the door to the Match Office he lifted a pale, long fingered hand and turned the doorknob, painted black nails matching the dog collar he wore around his neck and the makeup he had thrown on. Surprisingly though he didn't look scary or depressing dressed in all the black with the eye liner or the strange accessories; he was elegant and gangly in his own strange way.

Walking inside he had assumed he would see his match waiting for him but there was no one but Mr. Harada there and the older man beckoned him inside. [b][color=f7941d]‘He was at swim practice so he might take a bit to get here.’ [/color][/b]The man explained, it was the same man as on the phone and the young homosexual nodded quietly, butterflies fluttered anxiously in his stomach. Swim practice? Then he must be the athletic type that had never really shown much interest in the thin, stay-home boy who liked to bake instead of play ball. He was pacing, his black high tops making very little sound on the plush carpet that he walked on and he marveled at how plain the room was until he heard the doorknob turn and saw the door crack open just a hair. His match was here.

Mid step the door opened to reveal one of the older, taller and clearly more attractive men at the school – one that which Damian had no idea had been gay – and the smaller boy nearly fell over as he tripped over his own foot and that pesky out of place air molecule. Righting himself he stared for a moment, taking in the man’s disheveled hair, the dampness of his clothes and the way that a bead of water or sweat trickled down the man’s neck. He felt heat spread across his face as he blushed, his pale skin turning a bright shade of red as he looked away and down, bowing his head slightly so that his slightly too long hair fell into his face and hid his features from view.

[b][color=f7941d]‘Meet you match boys.’[/color][/b]