* * *
What haveI gotten myselfinto?
Art wondered why he’d agreed to dance with Wes. Sure, he’d danced plenty at Heathrow and in his past, but not in a crowd of so many youthful faces, of those who would potentially judge them for being so old…andgay.
Yes, there were guys dancing together, some who seemed to be couples by the way they touched one another and their suggestive expressions, but the evidence of family couldn’t chase away the lingering uneasiness Art had developed throughout a lifetime of training himself not to express himself like that around people who didn’tunderstand.
When they found a space on the dance floor among the other bar patrons, Wes turned back to him and started to roll his shoulders before moving his hips side to side, working into the rhythm of themusic.
This is so foolish, Art thought, starting to move too, but continuing to search around, catching a few of the glances shifting theirway.
“I think I needed a lot more to drink before we did this,” Art calledout.
“What?”
Art started to speak up, but then Wes assured him, “I was only kidding. These aids are amazing, Art. I’m basically a bionic man when I have them on the rightsetting.”
Wes moved closer to him and took Art’s hands. Art wanted to yank them away, but he stopped himself. Yet that didn’t shake the agitation that rose withinhim.
“Come on now, Art. I know you have some moves you’re just waiting to showoff.”
He could see how badly Wes wanted him to just let go and enjoy themoment.
“We don’t know these people,” Wes assured him. “And we never have to see themagain.”
Art’s worries were about more than embarrassment…about times when they could have been physically harmed for demonstrating something as simple as even what they’d done sofar.
“Fine. I’ll just have to do this on my own, then,” Wes said, turning and continuing to feel the music. He made some overdramatic gestures, working his way through many generations of silly dance moves before Art finally let go enough tolaugh.
“Woo-hoo!” a girl nearby exclaimed as she and her friends noticed him, and they laughed and applauded hisdancing.
Wes danced toward Art and said, “See? Nothing to worry about,Art.”
Art wasn’t sure that was the case, but he wanted to enjoy the night. He wanted to lose himself in the pleasure he shared with Wes. While he knew he’d never really be able to silence the voices in his head that told him what a horrible idea this was, he pushed past them and went with it, working his way into the feel of the blaring pop beat as much as hecould.
As far as dancing was concerned, Art wasn’t self-conscious about his moves. No, he may not have known the way the kids were dancing these days, but he had always received compliments on his skills on the dance floor. It had been the way he’d lured potential partners to him in the clubs and bars back in theday.
The surrounding crowd was encouraging, playful, and at one point, as Art checked behind them, he noticed two of the guys werekissing.
“Oh, well, you weren’t far from the truth,” he said as he turned back to Wes, who was coming at him. Before he knew it, Wes’s lips were pressed againsthis.
He waited for silence or a gasp, but instead, he heard cheering and another round of applause. His eyes watered—he wasn’t sure if it was from relief from the fear of judgment or because of how good Wes’s mouth felt against hisown.
Oh, how times hadchanged.
There he was, in a predominantly straight club, in the South, in his seventies, kissing a man. The world had changed. People had changed.Hehadchanged.
And as Wes slipped his tongue into Art’s mouth, Art found that for a moment—a very brief moment—he lost his awareness of where they were because all that mattered were the feelings Wes roused withinhim.
* * *
After they signedin at Heathrow Estates security, Wes walked Art to his apartment. Art was still reeling in excitement from drinking and bowling and dancing with Wes. Their date had been so much fun…and sounexpected.
However, as they waited for the elevator, Art found himself wondering what would happen next. Would Wes make a move? Did he expect more from him once they made it to his door? It was one thing to be friendly, laugh, be playful, and for Wes to say he found him beautiful, but another to take a step beyond that and do something so much moreintimate.
What would Wes really think of him when his clothes came off, if he even wanted that much? Hell, he wasn’t exactly eager to show it tohim.
When they reached his door and Art turned to Wes, he could feel the potent tension in the air as Wes gazed down into his eyes. But Jesus, all Art could think about was how exhausted he was, which he didn’t figure would help him in thebedroom.
