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Author's Note
So this popped into my head yesterday morning while I was shopping. It's just a bit of silly fun, I very much hope it makes you smile.
Lucky Charm
by Tasha D-Drake
Richard crouched down and prayed that he was well enough hidden that his pursuers wouldn't find him. If they did there was a distinct possibility he would end up nude with bald patches. No one had ever told him that a hoard of screaming girls could be that scary.
"The film will be good for your career," his agent had said; "and it's not like you're playing the hero, so you won't have to deal with the fans like your co-star will."
He should never have listened. He could have carried on with the nice reputation building stage and TV roles. Then he wouldn't have been crouching behind a bookcase in a comic shop praying a mob of fangirls didn't find him. Sometimes he simply couldn't get his head round it. The whole world knew he was gay, but he still had millions of female fans desperate to touch him and possibly take a souvenir. There were boys as well, of course, but they didn't travel in packs.
Usually he wasn't a religious man, but he seriously reconsidered as a gaggle of five girls passed very close by his hiding place. That was when he realised he was unconsciously fingering the small bottle on the bracelet on his wrist with its little wax seal. It was his good luck charm. His grandmother had given it to him when he was six and told him to break the seal if he was ever in trouble. Since his cousins had always whispered that Nana was a witch, at the age of six Richard had taken her gift very seriously. By the time he was old enough to realise that there was no such thing as witches, he was in the habit of wearing it and he only ever took it off for filming.
He'd tried to break the seal a couple of times in his life, just to see what was in the bottle, but it had always stayed firm. However, now he realised it was crumbling under his touch. Losing his good luck charm would be the last straw on a really bad day. He'd only nipped out the side door of the convention centre for a quick breath of fresh air. How was he supposed to have known that's where the queue to get in was and the door had locked behind him. The fans probably thought it had been a publicity stunt as he took off at high speed when he'd seen the rabid look come over some of them.
As the wax seal cracked completely and the little bottle fell open, Richard wanted to wail his distress. For a while he seriously considered killing his agent for getting him into this mess, but the little wisp of smoke that came out of the bottle distracted him. It just hung there in front of him for a moment in a very un-smoke like fashion and then sparkled.
Before he knew what was going on, he found himself sprawling backwards as something heavy entered the space right next to him. The bookcase giving him shelter almost went over, but he grabbed at it just in time. That was why the first he knew of whatever had sent him flying were the words: "Well, my, aren't you pretty."
He turned to see a man. At first he almost panicked, because it looked like the man was naked, but then he realised his companion was wearing boxers. The man was also holding a hairdryer and seemed to sparkle in the light.
Richard decided he was going crazy.
"Who are you?" he managed to croak out.
He had absolutely no idea where the man could have come from.
"My full name would take far too long to explain," the man said with a smile; "so you can call me Jaz."
Richard couldn't think of anything more suitable, given that Jaz had the physique of a dancer and the glitter to go with it.
"I'm a fairy."
Richard caught his laugh just in time.
"I owe you grandmother a debt, so I promised to look after you if you called," Jaz told him. "So what seems to be the problem?"
"Fangirls," Richard said and pointed through the bookcase just as a hoard of squealing girls and two boys dashed past.
"Oh yes," Jaz said, "I can see that might be an issue. What would you like me to do, vanish them all to Antarctica?"
It was tempting for a couple of seconds.
"How about getting me to my hotel room?" he asked instead.
Only after he had done so did he realise he was just going along with everything. He didn't believe in fairies and he didn't believe in magic ... and there was his hotel room, so maybe he did. It was either that or he was having a mental breakdown.
"Ooh, five star," Jaz said looking around, "very nice. Now I really should be getting home, but if you ask nicely I might consider staying."
The smile Jaz sent his way went straight to his cock and wasn't that a turnaround from pure fear.
"Would you like to stay?" he asked, because if he was having a meltdown at least it was an attractive one.
Jaz beamed at him and vanished the hairdryer.
"I just know we're going to be firm friends," Jaz told him brightly.
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