Connor moved with him, awkward at first, stepping on Leyden’s foot twice. But he learned fast – picking up the rhythm, letting Leyden guide him through the turns. Soon they were swaying together, bodies pressed close, moving as one.
Connor’s breath warmed Leyden’s neck. His hand tightened on Leyden’s shoulder. Leyden pulled Connor closer, and Connor melted into him, chest to chest, hips aligned.
And then Leyden felt it.
Connor’s arousal, hard and undeniable, pressed against Leyden’s thigh.
Leyden’s breath stopped. Froze completely in his lungs.
Connor was aroused. Actually, physically aroused from dancing, and being held.
Holy shit.
Connor stiffened, clearly feeling Leyden’s reaction. Pink flooded his face, spreading down his neck. But he didn’t pull away. Didn’t apologize. Just kept dancing, kept moving, his arousal still evident between them.
“Connor—”
“Don’t.” Connor’s voice came rough. “Don’t make it weird. I just...I want this. Want to feel this.”
Leyden’s heart was prepped for a marathon. His body had responded instantly, his arousal spiking hot and urgent. But he forced himself to breathe, to keep moving, to not grab Connor and kiss him senseless.
“Okay,” he managed. “Okay.”
They danced through two more songs, both hard, both aware, both breathing unsteady. Connor’s fingers dug into Leyden’s shoulder. Leyden’s hand splayed across Connor’s lower back, keeping him close.
Their bond pulsed between them - desire, trust, want, safety, all tangled together into something new and familiar all in the one go.
When the song ended, Connor didn’t step back. Instead, he tilted his head up, and Leyden kissed him.
Not gentle. Not tentative. Deep and hungry and real, weeks of wanting poured into the press of lips and tongue. Connor made a sound low in his throat, opened his mouth, kissing him back with just as much urgency.
Leyden’s hands fisted in Connor’s shirt. Connor’s arms were wrapped around Leyden’s neck. They stumbled toward the couch, still kissing, still pressed tight together.
Connor’s back hit the cushions. Leyden followed him down, caging Connor beneath him, their bodies aligned perfectly. Connor arched up, seeking friction, gasping into Leyden’s mouth.
“Fuck,” Leyden breathed against Connor’s lips. “Connor…”
“Don’t stop.” Connor pulled him closer. “Please don’t stop.”
They kissed until Leyden’s lips felt swollen, until Connor trembled beneath him, until their bond hummed with need.
Connor’s hand slid under Leyden’s shirt, palm flat against bare skin. Leyden groaned, rocking his hips involuntarily. Connor met the movement, gasped, did it again.
Heat built fast, too fast. Leyden forced himself to slow down, to gentle the kiss, to pull back enough to see Connor’s face.
Connor’s eyes were almost emerald, his lips red and wet, his chest heaving.
“We should stop,” Connor whispered. “I know we should. Before I can’t.”
Leyden nodded, even though stopping felt impossible. “Yeah. Okay.”
He started to pull away, but Connor’s hand tightened in his shirt.
“Soon,” Connor said, voice shaking. “Leyden, I promise I mean it. Soon. I’m not trying to tease you. I’m almost there. I just need - I need a little more time to be sure.”
Leyden’s throat closed. He kissed Connor again, soft and with all the love in his heart. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Knowing that is what makes this possible for me.”
