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Will saw him as he came around the front of the truck, holding a guitar case and smiling goodnaturedly at Hop. He said something, but Will couldn’t tell you what it was. He had been expecting someone older, maybe a little more grizzled or worn down. But this boy was young, maybe Will’s age, and….breathatking. That was the only word for it. He was tall and thin, with a dark mop of curls falling over his dark eyes and sharp cheekbones. He reached for the duffle bag from Hop with hands that were long and elegant. Will was staring, he knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t long before the boy noticed too. He caught Will’s eye and held out one of those perfect hands.
“Hi, I’m Mike.”
Or
Will is a rodeo cowboy in rural Texas and Mike is his family's new ranch hand. What could possibly go wrong?