And he moved like heaven, too. Noah had no idea he could dance like that. Ramin was a good decade older than most of the other folks on the dance floor, folks with sculpted abs showing through mesh shirts, or firm butts exposed by shorts somehow even shorter than Ramin’s, but Ramin was the most beautiful person there.
He opened his eyes and saw Noah. His head cocked to the side, almost comically, before a smile stole over his features, catching rainbows in his dimples.
Noah stepped up, but he didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t like prom, where you just spun in a circle with your hands on your girlfriend’s butt.
Then again, Ramin did indeed grab Noah’s hands and plant them on his butt.
“What’re you doing here?” he shouted, though it was almost a slur. And up close, Noah could tell Ramin’s eyes were droopy.
“Looking for you.”
“Whyyyyyy? I’m being interesting!”
Ramin slipped out of Noah’s hands, dancing more feverishly, grinding up against the other guys nearby, and that primal flame roared in Noah’s chest once more.
Oh. He wasjealous.
He hadn’t been jealous in a long time.
“I want to talk to you,” Noah shouted.
“What?”
“I said—” But someone bumped into Noah, slid between him and Ramin. A young guy with the lower half of his butt cheeks literally hanging out of his shorts. He rubbed up against Noah’s front for a second, before turning and looking at Noah, eyes wide and interested.
But Noah shook his head, brushed him aside, found Ramin again.
“Can we go?”
“What?”
“I said, let’s get out of here!”
Ramin stared at him for a moment. Noah took his hand, tugged him toward the exit. Not a hard tug, just enough to show what direction he was trying to go.
“But what if I’m not done dancing?”
“You’re done,” Noah said, with more force than he meant to, but Ramin was drunk and Noah didn’t like the thought of Ramin here all alone without someone to watch his back, guard his drinks, make sure he got home safely. “We’re going.”
Ramin gave a full-body shiver as Noah led him off the dance floor, out the club, and into the blessedly silent streets.
Ramin tripped on the sidewalk, but Noah caught him. When Ramin straightened up, they were chest to chest. Ramin’s face was flushed. He blinked, his head sagging a bit to the side.
“You came for me,” he said. “I thought you were done with me.”
After the shouting in the club, Ramin’s voice had gone soft and sad. Noah ached that he’d made Ramin think that.
“My phone was dead,” he explained. “And then I was out with Jake and Angela while it was charging. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I didn’t want you to think I don’t want you. Because I do. I…”
Before Noah could explain more, Ramin was leaning into him, enveloping Noah’s mouth with his own. His kisses were forceful, needy, a little bit sloppy, but Noah could feel the smile in his lips.
Still, they had to talk about things first. He broke the kiss, held Ramin at arm’s length.
“Hey. Hey. You okay?”
“I don’t usually have gin,” Ramin admitted. He rested his head against Noah’s shoulder. “I think I’m drunk.”
“Let’s get you home. Which way?”
