First Chapter of Bidding On You (Updated 2/7/2025)

First Sighting

Tristan’s POV

It has been six fucking months.

And yes, I get I have no one to blame for that except my own cowardly ass, but who knew searching for one nameless stranger could possibly be this fucking hard? In retrospect, I should have approached him the first time I saw him, but in my defense, my head was a mess. 

My friends and I were at a college event that used local bands as a way to draw in high school seniors to drum up enrollment interest. Our senior year had just started, and neither our studies nor football season had quite started yet. Even though we’re already set on what university we’re planning on attending, we still went to the event to blow off some steam and have a little fun. 

While I was interested in the local bands, my buddies were more interested in mingling with students from other high schools. Which I get because it’s rare that we get to hang out with people outside of the private academy we go to. The perks and opportunities we get by attending the academy are amazing, but there’s an almost oppressive expectation for its students to be a certain way. So the rare chances we get to mingle with more laid back and open-minded students when we play ball against them or go to open events like these are a much needed reprieve. 

It was while I was checking out the bands playing at different stages, scoping out the ones I knew and the ones I’d never heard of when he came skipping past me with his friends. I thought the phrase ‘and time simply stood still’ was the cheesiest bullshit I’d ever heard until I felt it myself. Because that’s exactly what happened. Time fucking stopped. The world around me ceased to exist. All I could see, all I could process, was him. 

His mouth was open in a laughing smile, his eyes were closed into little mirthful half moon crescents, and my heartbeat was so loud in my chest I swear you could hear it on the opposite side of the globe.

Of course, time hadn’t actually stopped, so by the time some reasoning rattled back into my head, they’d already passed me by. Without even thinking about it, I turned on my heel and followed them. I’ve felt immediate connections before. Like when I first met my buddies Marcus and Darryl our freshmen year. The coach was doing an ice-breaker challenge and the first time Marcus, Darryl, and I’s eyes met, we knew we were gonna be bros for life. It was unanimous and instantaneous, and after three years, our bond has grown and solidified to be something beyond just a phrase but a deep gut knowledge that we will always be a part of each other's lives.

This wasn’t like that, though. This wasn’t a bro for life kind of connection. This was a connection that I could feel reverberating deep down in my chest. I wasn’t sure what this was. Was I drawn in by his carefree joy? Had it somehow found a chink in my apathetic armor? Or was it something else entirely?

I mean, the guy was gorgeous. He had Asian features with smooth light golden skin, soft dark brown curtained styled hair that matched his beautiful carnelian-colored eyes, and plush full lips. He was tall like me, maybe not quite my 6 '2, probably closer to 6 feet, but he wasn’t nearly as bulky as I am. I’m an athlete through and through, been weight lifting and pounding cleats into the field since I was big enough to hold a football in my hands. This guy looked more like a runner; long, lithe, and sleek.  

His friend leaned in to whisper something to him and he slapped his friend’s arm while his mouth puckered out into the most beautiful pout I’ve ever laid eyes on. And just like that I was done for. No one could stand against that pout. It was the kind of warfare that would have an army dropping their weapons while accepting their defeat. I’d never stood a chance against it. 

And while there were so many questions answered in that moment, there were so many more that took their place. It took me a minute to realize why I was so drawn to him, and then another minute to realize my sexuality may be more of a curve than a straight arrow. Not that realizing I’m more curved than straight was really that shocking of a revelation, it was just honestly the first time I’d really ever even stopped to consider my preferences at all.

I feel like it was an immediate attraction. I’d never felt attraction before, so I’m not sure, and to be honest, the descriptions I’ve heard don’t really match how I felt in that moment, either. I can’t really say I’ve ever looked at anyone and felt the desire to know them on a carnal level. And I can’t really say that was the case with this guy, either. There was no heat in my gut, no errant desire to get him naked, nothing like that. But there was something massive and powerful that grew inside of me at the sight of him. Like a swarm of butterflies in my stomach and the sun rising in my heart. It was all encompassing, but it didn’t feel sexual, so much as just this steady thrum of knowing he’s special. So, maybe attraction just feels different for people and this is how it feels for me. 

But while I unraveled the million and one thoughts in my head and micro-analyzed the depths and meaning behind every thought I’d ever had, I got caught somewhere between my internal musings and following his every move because I could not take my eyes off of him. 

When the time came for the event to end and to go our separate ways, I was still caught somewhere between figuring myself out and trying to come up with some amazing line that would open a door for me to get to know him. But instead of uttering a word, he slipped through my fingers. I was left with nothing more than a memory. A beautiful, pouty memory. 

For the first few weeks after the festival, I had tried to lock it all away into a private space in my head and my heart as just a memory. I tried to convince myself that he’d been placed in my path simply as the awakening siren I needed to understand myself better. A shift in my focus to pay more attention to who I was actually attracted to. Although, in all fairness, I’d never really focused on that much at all before him, and even though I can recognize a difference now, it's not really enough for it to be a significant change for me.

Now that I’m paying more attention, I can feel a low thrum of interest in the people around me regardless of gender. The sashay of rounded hips, the way an Adam’s apple moves, smooth feminine curves and hardened muscles rippling during a workout. Feminine, masculine, it doesn’t matter. There’s no preference in my appreciation of the human body. It’s like a veil has been lifted from my eyes because I can see now what had somehow run under the radar before I saw that guy at the festival. 

But while I’m noticing there’s a bit more attraction towards people, it’s still not enough for my dick to take notice. No magical inappropriate hard-ons, not that I’ve ever had that problem. I know most guys have. I’ve seen the uncomfortable flush in their faces and the awkward way they angle their bodies to hide their uncooperative boners, but it’s never been a problem for me. Even during the early years of puberty, my dick stayed pretty well-tamed unless I purposely woke it up myself for a quick release. 

But that’s not necessarily the same when I think about him. Every time I get caught up admiring someone, there’s an errant thought of how that nameless stranger is more attractive somehow. His eyes are more enchanting. His lean body is more elegant. His smile is more radiant. And there’s a sexual undercurrent to my thoughts with him I’ve never felt for another person before. For the first time, my dick is taking notice, and that’s only from a memory. So, regardless of recognizing that I’m most likely pan, I still can’t see past him or let him go. 

So I stopped trying to lock him away and forget him. I’ve put everything I’ve got into finding similar events. High school performances, local bands, anything and everything I can find that would appeal to our age group, and I search for him. I need another shot, another chance to say hi, to introduce myself, anything, even if it’s just knowing his name. 

After six months, I’m still empty-handed. I’m standing at yet another high school hosted event for a school I’ve competed against on the field once or twice a year throughout high school. It’s another private academy that’s on the opposite side of the city from where mine is. According to the pamphlet, a group of students came up with the idea of the charity auction event and put it together to raise funds for queer youth care. 

I spot a donation box by the exit and pull my wallet out so I can drop some money in it on my way out. Obviously, I’m an advocate. I was an ally even before I realized I was on the queer spectrum. But I’ve been here long enough for the chances of him being here to be unlikely. 

The longer this search continues, the more I’m beginning to feel like it’s all in my imagination, anyway. Was he really there or did my subconscious just dream up my ideal person to randomly make me realize I’m not fully straight? Don’t really know why that would be the case. It’s not like I was dating anyone at all, let alone sequestering myself to the concept of the straight life. But the longer I come up empty, the more my thoughts spiral into ridiculousness. 

There’s a classically good-looking guy on stage who is presenting and auctioning off items that were most likely donated to the cause. He’s got wavy, blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes, a dimple in his cheek that makes his smile a mixture of sweet and flirty, and a lean, athletic build. But recognizing the guy is attractive and having any sort of deeper feeling about that are two different things. He doesn’t intrigue me like the guy from the festival does. Holding in my sigh of disappointment, I take a step towards the donation box because I think if my beautiful guy was here, I would’ve seen him by now. 

Before I can actually move, though, another guy comes running in my direction and inadvertently blocks my way out. “Qi! Where the hell have you been? This is your baby and you’re missing it!” The guy hisses loudly. 

Curiosity at his tone and the fact that he blocked my path has me turning my head in the direction he’s hollering in. And once again. Everything just fucking freezes. Because it’s him.

My breath hitches in my throat as he heads towards the guy standing in front of me. My mouth goes dry and my throat audibly clicks when I try to swallow while his plush beautiful mouth spreads out into an easy smile and his eyes crinkle back up into little half moons as the sunshine pours right out of his perfect face. He looks like he hasn’t got a care in the world while my entire universe is spinning so fast I don’t know how I’m still standing. 

Qi. His name is Qi. What a handsome name for such a handsome face. I wonder how it’s spelled. What does it mean? What would it sound like saying it with my own tongue? My thoughts are creepy. I’m creepy. I’ve been stalking the city for months now, looking for this guy, and all I can do is stand here and ogle his pretty face and question the origin and meaning of his pretty name. 

“Sorry Fei. I stepped outside to take a call from Qiang,” Qi tells his friend with an apologetic smile. 

Fei brushes it off with a shake of his head and points towards the stage. “Owen needs you on the stage.”

Qi frowns and looks at Fei. “But I’m not supposed to go on stage. I put everything together so you guys could do this part,” he says. 

Fei shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s just what he said. Maybe there’s a hiccup or something, but he said he needs you up there.”

My beautiful Qi shakes his head with exasperation. No, not my beautiful Qi. I haven't even met him yet. Evidently I'm not only creepy, I'm possessive, too. “Let’s go, then,” he says, motioning his arm towards the stage, completely unaware of the unhinged creepy, possessive guy ogling him like he's some kind of miraculous beacon of light. I mean, he is to me, but that's neither here nor there. 

My words die in my throat and my heart thrashes in my chest. Why is it that after months of hoping and planning for this, every thought and plan of action I’ve imagined is flying right out of my head? Every suave line, every flirty quip, every debonair showcase, just gone, right out of my head. How does a human make every move they make look like a piece of moving art? Is it possible for a heart to explode with just a stranger’s mere presence?

Déjà vu sets in as I fall behind the two friends and follow them silently while trying to shake off the overwhelming explosion of emotions. If he did most of the work to put the event together, then he’s not gonna want to focus on some stranger trying to grab his attention when he’s focused on his event. So, I’ll keep him in my sights and approach him once the situation is solved. That way, I’ll have a better chance of getting his attention without him being distracted. 

Maybe it’ll give me a chance to get my inner chaos to settle the fuck down enough for me to figure out something to say. I’m close enough to eavesdrop, but far enough to look inconspicuous. I hope anyway.

Qi and Fei join a third person near the stage. “You’re just in time. Owen needs you on the stage now,” the third person says, grabbing onto Qi’s arm and ushering him towards the stage. A little flare of jealousy creeps up because this friend isn’t just classically handsome like the guy on stage, he’s unfairly handsome. Porcelain skin, ruby lips, nearly black hair, and piercing emerald green eyes. His features are striking and the form-fitting clothes he’s wearing does nothing to hide the athletic and lean build of his body.

Qi tugs his arm out of his friend’s grasp. “No, I wasn’t supposed to go on stage,” he reiterates what he’d said to Fei a moment ago. 

His friend shakes his head and starts pushing him towards the stage. “Owen says you have to, though,” he says almost hurriedly. 

Qi stops and raises a suspicious eyebrow at the guy. “You’re being pushy. Something’s fishy,” he says slowly, with a tone that matches his distrustful expression. 

The third friend just laughs at him. “Yeah, your breath, now go on,” he deflects with a final shove towards the stage. 

The guy on stage, Owen, I’m assuming, notices Qi and reaches his hand out for him. Qi has a torn expression and I can tell from here that he’s not happy with the turn of events. He looks like he’s warring between running away or going onstage to see what the hell is going on. 

After several seconds of contemplation, he lets out an exasperated huff and mutters something under his breath before stepping onto the stage and joining his friend. Owen’s mouth spreads into a predatory smile and even I can see Qi’s just fallen into some sort of trap. Owen pulls him center stage before bringing the mic back up to his mouth. 

“Before the event ends, we want to introduce you to the mastermind behind today’s event. While I’ve been up here with cue cards and basic knowledge of the items up for bid, it’s Qi Jiang who has been steadily putting everything together from coming up with and planning the event to arranging the venue to securing the items for auction,” he says, motioning towards a not so thrilled looking Qi. 

He shakes his head at his friend in dismay, plainly having no desire to be onstage. I feel for him. His friends have obviously set him up. I know what that feels like because my teammates do this to me all the time. Maybe not this exact scenario, but I’m known to attract girls to our vicinity and my teammates have no problem using my face as a honey trap to lure them in. 

It’s not a game I actively take part in or appreciate. But it’s also not like I can just tell them I’m not interested in getting laid like they are. I’m a jock, and not just any jock, I’m the fucking quarterback. It’s practically a rite of passage. And while I haven’t partaken of that particular act, I’ve also done nothing to correct my teammate’s assumptions, except of course my two best friends on the team. There are no secrets between Marcus, Darryl, and I. 

However, if things with Qi go my way, I’m about to have a whole different discussion with my teammates because there’s no way in hell I’d ever hide him. That’s a bit daunting, but one look on the stage and I’m reminded it’s worth it. Well, it feels worth it. I mean, there’s always a chance I’ll meet the guy and he’ll be a complete douche canoe, but some gut instinct is telling me that’s not gonna be the case.

Qi lets out an audible sigh while his shoulders stiffen with resolution. He gives Owen a stiff nod and reaches for the mic. He probably thinks it would look unprofessional for him to run now since his friend already introduced him. He takes a deep breath before his lips curve into a dazzling smile that lands deep in my soul. 

It’s devastating how beautiful he is. The thousand expressions on his face. The simpering pout, the easy laughter, the crease of deep thought at the unexpected turn of events, and now this dazzling showcase smile for the audience. Each expression showing yet another facet of beauty on this gorgeous guy’s face. 

“Thank you all for being here and for all of your donations to this very under-represented cause. The difficulties many teens face when questioning their identities are often overlooked, and every penny earned will go straight into strengthening the youth outreach and mental healthcare programs that work towards making that journey an easier and safer one.

“To be honest, this cause is very personal to me because I watched someone whom I think the world of. Someone whom I’ve always looked up to, and idolized, struggle to come to terms with both their sexuality and their gender identity. I watched them deny their likes and dislikes based on societal gender assumptions. I watched the self-denial as they lied to themself about who they liked and disliked based on what society thinks is normal. I watched the bullying they got as they were able to hide their true self less and less over time. I watched the pressure on them to come out before they were ready take its toll on them and everything they lost when they were publicly outed in a way that was both cruel and detrimentally harmful.

“These stages could have been eased with proper channels in place to have helped them emotionally come to terms with themself and provided a support system to have helped them to come out when they were ready or even helped them emotionally heal with how their sexuality was outed against their will. But there simply isn’t enough funding, and they had to accept their truth the hard way. For the most part, they’ve embraced who they are, and they have a strong support system now, but the years it took for them to get to where they are now were hard for them to have lived through.

“And there are so many similar stories that don’t turn out as well. Not everyone ends up with a support system, and not everyone ends up on the other end of their journey in one piece, or horrifically, some don’t make it at all. And if we are going to get really honest here, there really is never an end to this journey because we live in a world where cis and straight are the assumption, so coming out as anything else is almost a constant repeat that the queer community has to endure all their lives.

“It’s a cruel, bitter pill, but the world is still stuck in a war between fighting against or learning to embrace identities outside of the heteronormative structure. And that’s why these charities that are focused on making these groups and care available are so important for the youth that need the support. So for all of you that have contributed today, from the very bottom of my heart, I thank you,” he says emotionally.

The passion in his voice, the strength of his conviction. I couldn’t help but be completely moved by it. I wonder who ignited such a passion in him. Someone in a position for him to idolize; a family member, a friend, a mentor perhaps? Whoever it was had created something deep inside the man on the stage, something that was enough for him to put this kind of effort out to raise funds and awareness. And something that was enough for him to openly and publicly speak on a matter that gets a lot of ridiculous backlash. 

It’s not easy to be outspoken about these things. Passivity is generally more the style of people anymore. So many people say they care but don’t do anything about it. I do more than most of the people I go to school with, but I’ve never publicly stood on a stage and vocalized the need for change. Looking at Qi on stage, I think I need to learn how to do more.