Title: Do I Look Gay?

Author/pseudonym: Kirana

Fandom: Witchblade

Rating: PG

Pairing: Jake/

Status: New/Complete, but possibly to be reworked some time in the future.

Archive: In WWOMB and my site, all others ask.

Feedback: Is a very good thing.

Series/Sequel: No

Disclaimers: Not mine, but wouldn’t I be happy if they were. Don’t bother to sue me I’m down to my last five bucks.

Notes: This is the first fic I’ve posted anywhere but my site so please be nice. I wrote this in the middle of the night so if it seems odd it is. In fact I think it’s a rather funny story. All mistakes are mine.

Summary: In which Jake gets stalked, and finds out something about himself, but won’t admit it.

Warnings: First time, a touch of none consensual, and some spoilers for Diplopia.

Do I Look Gay
by Kirana

Just because I went in a gay bar does not mean I’m gay, kissing my female partner who was dressed as a guy at the time and liking it doesn’t make me gay . For some reason that
freaky guy with all the look a likes didn’t believe me.

Did I deny it too much, or is there something about my appearance that somehow screams gay?

Sure the weird guy and his look a likes are all dead now, I don’t have to worry about any of them any more.

Now I’ve got a different guy after me. I’ve seen him before, mainly because he was stalking Pez.

Unfortunately for me it now appears that it is me he’s stalking.

At lest once a day I caught a glimpse of him, in his long dark coat, out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned towards him fully he was always gone.

For awhile I didn’t think too much of it because when ever I saw him I was with Pez. Then I started seeing him when I was by myself. I tried to convince myself I was just imagining it.

Then right when I’d finally managed to convince myself of that lie, I started getting phone calls.

More specifically messages on my answering machine. At first it was just breathing no voice, not that I knew what his voice sounded like anyway. Besides it wasn’t like I’d be so lucky as to have two stalkers at the same time.

Then he started actually talking in the messages, telling me how nice I’d looked that day or that the shirt I’d been wearing that day really brought out the color of my eyes.

It was really starting to freak me out, I tried to change the way I dressed, the way I acted, I went out of my way to flirt with any reasonably attractive female I came into contact with. Anything to not look gay.

After several days of me flirting with everything female the phone calls got fewer and fewer and I stopped seeing him so often, then a week or so later he wasn’t bothering me at all.

I thought it was over, I was so wrong.

Late one night as I was laying on my couch watching cartoons. Then my phone rang. I answered figuring that if someone was calling me at that time of night it was probably work related.

Wong, it was him. He wanted to know why I was rebuffing his advances. I told him to go to hell, I didn’t like guys, then hung up. As I did I heard him laugh.

The phone rang again I didn’t pick up, the answering machine got it, it was him, he wanted to know why I hung up on him, why I wouldn’t acknowledge the truth.

He kept calling over and over again leaving the same type of message.

I gave up on watching TV turned the ringer off on my phone and went to bed.

I woke up awhile latter to the sound of my front door banging open. I snagged my gun from out of its holster and sneaked out of my room.

It was him and he saw me instantly. I was grabbed and slammed against the wall, then he proceeded to try to kiss me senseless. I tried to get away but my struggles didn’t even faze him.

When he pulled back he looked at me with a maniacal gleam in his eyes and asked me if I’d liked that.

I told him to leave me alone and get out of my house, I wasn’t interested, and I wasn’t gay.

He just kind of chuckled and told me to think about it. Then he released me and was gone in a swirl of black before I had a chance to react. So I just tried to get my door to close and went back to bed.

When I got back to sleep my dreams were filled with mysterious men in long black coats who had a tendency to pin me to walls and kiss me.

Needless to say I woke tired and more than a little confused. I wasn’t gay, I couldn’t be gay.

The phone calls started again that day and I continued to ignore them, Then they’d stop for awhile, then he’d pay me another visit that basically would go the same way.

And so the pattern continued, and I somehow ended up in a twisted relationship with a decidedly odd and scary guy, but I’m not gay!

***
So what do you think? Should I write more or leave the fic writing to other people?
Kirana