James licked his lips, lost in thought and mesmerized by the club lights.What if?
What if…
Chapter Two
Cillian popped back up with a suddenness that made James jump.He’d have splashed his drink clear out of the glass if there’d been more than a drop or two left at the bottom, and wouldn’t that be a waste?As the music dropped from bone-rattling techno to swishy lo-fi, he eyeballed the glass to make sure of that, nodded, then punched Cillian soundly on the bicep.“What the fuck?”
“Hey, you bastard.”Cillian rubbed his arm, but eyes sparkled.“Why don’t you learn how to hit?”
James frowned at him.“So that hurt, or it didn’t?”
Cillian waved expansively.“Sourpuss it up all you want; youdofeel better, I can tell.It’s a sixth sense kind of thing.”He refilled the empty glass, slung an arm carelessly across James’ shoulders, and leaned casually into his side.“You’re not dancing.Why are you not dancing?”
“Because I look like one of those inflatable tube men they put outside car dealerships when I try to follow a beat?”
“Bah, and also, I say humbug.”Cillian caught James’ hand between both of his, gazing at him in a way guaranteed to melt even undergarments made of asbestos.“Now!You and me, we’re behind.I took you out for drinks and dancing.Can’t do one without the other, am I right?”
“No.No way.”James tried to pull away.“You remember what happened last time.I’m not ending up on TikTok again.”
“All of ten people saw the clip -- the dick who posted it was hardly an influencer -- and half of the comments were ‘the guy tried, give him some credit’.”Cillian tugged back.“Come on.One dance.I for one promise not to laugh.”
James scoffed but also turned his wrist so that he could get a better look at their joined hands.He stroked the back of Cillian’s forearm with his thumb without really meaning to but not seeing a good reason to stop.Cillian had started it, after all.“You are such a liar.Last time you laughed until you almost needed oxygen.”
“Then I promise not to laugh quite that hard.Only until my knees give out and I hit the ground, and then I’ll stop.”Cillian beamed at him.“See?Problem solved.Time’s wasting.Let’s dance.”
He had impeccable timing.The music changed from frenetic trap beats to poppy 90’s, and suddenly they had Cher at top volume and a howling crowd ready to believe there was, in fact, life after love.So why not dance?James had drink in his hand, a friend who could coax birds out of the trees, and a night unexpectedly free.Besides, the place was crawling with hipsters.He wouldn’t be the only one doing a Muppet-flail dance.
“You know what?”James drained the dregs of his drink from his glass.“You’re on.”
“Nowthat’smy boy!”Cillian whooped.He caught James by the wrist and hauled him by main force out into the middle of the throng, where he spun him around so they faced each other.“Right.I’ll try and teach you again.Just follow me.Do what I do.”
“I don’t have that many joints in my legs.”
“Oh, hush up.”Cillian rested his palms lightly on James’ hips.“Step one: do not look at your feet.Don’t think about your feet, for fuck’s sake.We’re focused on these lovely little pivot points.Sway.That’s it, sway.Count the beat in your head.One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four.Now your arms.”He let go of James’ hips to raise his arms for him.“Arms can move a little as you move, but keep ‘em mostly straight.”
James bit his lip, concentrating.“Last time anyone called anything about me straight.”
Cillian hooted.“Damn right.Now, see?You’re doing it, but don’t you dare pay attention to it.No thinking.Only moving.There!Nice power stance, that, nice hip action.Almost like you know what you’re doing.”
“Or like I had a good teacher.”
“Was that a wink?”Cillian demanded, visibly delighted.“Why, James, I do declare you look and sound like you’re having a good time.Who’d have thought it?”
Not James, not before the night got going, but Cillian had a knack for proving him wrong.And hewashaving a good time.One of the best since he couldn’t remember when.His body was obeying commands, the music pumped through his veins, and he was close enough to Cillian they didn’t have to shout.Cillian smelled of warm skin, alarmingly potent alcohol, and something almost like cinnamon.He tossed his hair back, laughing, and for one moment James wasn’t just having a good time.He washappy.And he never wanted the moment to end.
All things did, of course.James wasn’t the only one giving Cillian an appreciative eye.More than a handful of men paused in their dancing, a couple of them even stumbling over their own feet, to get a better view of him.Death glares hammered at James’ own back for hogging all the pretty.
He poked Cillian lightly.“Fan club’s out in force.”
Cillian scoffed.“Pervs, you mean, and ones who don’t know how to mind their business when I’m clearly occupied.”
James blinked.That was new.“You’re not planning on taking any of them home with you tonight?”
“Nah.”
What?Wait, seriously?
Before James could process that genuinely new response, Cillian dropped one arm lightly across his collarbone and asked, “So what’s the deal with going home for Christmas?You’ve always gone, sure, but you never seem to enjoy the trip that much and you come back with socks and boxes of chocolate covered cherries instead of anything with some thought in it.”
