Page 38 of Dance With Me
The drive home was quieter, Seb had connected his phone again, but there was no singing this time, just soft, chilled music, perfect for night-time driving.
They hardly spoke on the way back. Joe seemed lost in his thoughts, and Seb had to admit to feeling a little subdued. The joy of being in Joe’s company was fading as they neared home. This couldn’t be, and that made Seb sad.
“Is something wrong?” Joe asked as they pulled up outside the apartment.
“Just tired,” Seb lied. How could he tell the man that he wished this was real, that they’d be going into their home together, sharing kisses, sharing a bed? But it just wasn’t going to happen.
“Would you mind if we didn’t meet tomorrow? I think the pressure of the weekend must be getting to me. I just want to have a night in. I hope you don’t mind.” In reality, Seb couldn’t face Joe again so soon. Dom was right. It was going to hurt him more if he continued this charade. It was breaking his heart.
He stepped out of the car and opened the rear door. Rocco woke and slowly ambled out of the car, worn out from his long run. Joe had got out at the same time and carried Seb’s bag to the door of the apartment.
“I loved tonight, Joe. Thank you for taking us.” He opened the front door, but before going in, he reached up and kissed Joe on the cheek, lingering longer than necessary. “Goodnight, Joe.” When he turned back to him, Joe was already at the car. He looked back at Seb, a small smile on his lips. Seb raised his hand in a wave and quietly closed the door.
He got a drink from the fridge and checked on Natalia. She was fast asleep. He locked the front door and made his way to the bathroom where he relieved himself and cleaned his teeth. He stepped into his room and undressed, dropping his clothes on a chair. That done, he crumpled on the bed, tears falling from his eyes and as thoughts of Joe and what they would never have ran through his mind, he fell into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Joe
Joe drove home, touching his cheek where Seb had kissed him. He couldn’t help thinking that it had meant something more than just a thank you for the evening. It’d almost felt like a goodbye. Joe frowned. He did not want to let this go.
True, Seb had been quiet on the way back, but it was late, and the music hadn’t warranted talking, filling the car with a soft, tender mood. They’d had such a good evening, too, the drive down and the way they’d sung together. Admittedly, Joe hadn’t recognised all of the songs, but he’d joined in when he could. Playing on the beach with Rocco and then afterwards eating fish and chips at the small cafe—it’d all felt sublime.
When Seb had closed his eyes sitting at the table, it had given him time to study the man, with no restrictions. He was quite possibly the most attractive man he’d ever met. Joe had wanted to run his hands through his dark wavy hair, caress the scruff on his face. When he’d hugged him earlier in the day, it had been hard not to reach for his hair, to feel if it was as soft as it looked. He’d looked so peaceful tonight, and when Joe held his hand out for the lead, he’d been hoping that Seb would have slipped his slim hand into his, so Joe’s larger hands could envelop it and raise it to his mouth for a tender kiss.
Joe ached for him. His attraction was a distraction, one he relished. He couldn’t, in all good conscience, go through with the wedding now. He had to tell Clare.
Selfishly though, he wanted to have some more time with Seb before he told her. He needed to tell him how he felt, needed to make him see that he wanted to give them a try, but only if he wanted to as well. He knew his life as he knew it now would soon be coming to an end, and strangely, he was OK with that. His problem, though, was how to convince Seb thathewas what he wanted.
He arrived home. Clare was still at work, so he was on his own, again. Could he go back to this, his house being his own, no one to greet him when he came back? Joe honestly couldn’t remember the last time Clarehadbeen home before he was, and he realised how far apart they’d grown over the last few months. She was hardly home, either at work or out with friends, and when she was home, she spent her time on her phone, watching TV or arguing with him.
Joe took a shower before bed, and as he stood under the spray, he wondered if Seb would be happy with a life with Joe. He imagined them both in the kitchen, making food together, feeding each other as they sat at the table. Sharing a bed, sharing a shower. Making love intheirbed, in the shower.
He imagined Seb was with him now. They’d wash each other, Joe washing Seb’s hair, running his hands down his body, laying kisses to his neck and shoulders. Seb would drop his head back against Joe, his breath catching as Joe moved his hands lower, caressing Seb’s hips and slowly moving to his erect cock. His own erection rubbing Seb’s crease. Their breaths coming quicker, Seb would turn in Joe’s arms, and their lips would meet, teeth nipping and biting.
Joe would move to his knees, feeling Seb’s smooth skin beneath his hands, drawing his fingertips over his sensitive nipples. He’d nuzzle the thatch of hair surrounding his cock and, as his hands moved lower, he’d take the head into his mouth, tasting the precum gathered there. Seb would moan as Joe engulfed him in a swallow, one hand on the base of his cock, the other stroking his balls. Seb would tug on his hair, his scalp stinging, but Joe would be spurred on by Seb’s actions, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, taking him down to the root every time.
“I’m so close,” Seb would murmur, and Joe would increase his efforts, Seb’s cock nudging the back of Joe’s throat. He’d swallow as he took him, making Seb shout his release, and he’d take it down greedily as he supported him through his orgasm.
Joe would get to his feet, and they’d kiss lazily as Seb came back to his senses, his eyes glazed, satisfied.
As his fantasy ran wild, Joe fisted his cock, his grip almost painful. He threw his head back and gasped as his own orgasm hit him, his come hitting the tiles of the shower. He stood panting, his breaths laboured, and he closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the vision as long as he could. Soon though, the water started to cool and forced him from the shower.
He dried off and dressed in a pair of pyjama pants and a threadbare shirt. He’d had it for years, since university probably, but it comforted him, made him remember the days when he was more relaxed. He got into the cold bed but struggled to sleep, his mind running over the events of the evening again. When he eventually slept, it was to the memory of Seb singing, his eyes full of joy as he looked at him.
Morning came round far too soon, and he woke about five minutes before his alarm was due to go off. Clare wasn’t in bed with him. He moved to the bathroom and completed his morning routine, grabbing his shirt, tie and suit from the wardrobe and dressing before going downstairs.
Clare sprawled on the sofa, still in her uniform, apparently not having made it to bed when she’d come home from work. He stepped into the kitchen and started the coffee machine, preparing his usual breakfast of yoghurt and fruit. What he wouldn’t give for a bacon sandwich; he groaned at the thought.
“You’re up then,” Clare said as she stumbled into the kitchen, lines from the cushions marking her face.
“I have a meeting at eight and need to go in before and go over some figures with Hazel.”
“How is Hazel?” The way Clare asked suggested she didn’t care how she was. They’d never been good friends and barely tolerated each other most of the time.
“She’s good. I took the kids to the cinema on Saturday and stayed for a meal with her and Dave. It was nice.”
Clare snorted and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Will you be home late tonight or finishing normal time? I thought we could go over some of the arrangements for the wedding. It’s just five weeks away now.”
