But Eli didn't listen, and Oz's warning was swiftly swallowed up by the crowd. As soon as they were in the thick of it, he began to move, the sway of his hips a hypnotic thing. The lights caught his glittery hair as his hands came up to cup Logan's cheeks, urging him closer.
"I'm not —" Logan started, but Eli cut him off.
"You're not gay?" Eli smirked. "Sugar, if I had a nickel for how many times I've heard that before. Still, you're all dolled up to have some fun tonight, right? Then don't worry. You don't need to be any particular color of the rainbow to have a good time. Just dance with me. Or would you rather be dancing with him?" Eli jerked his chin at Oz, staring at them from the dance floor's edge with hot, glinting eyes.
Logan stared back. Part of his mind noticed how the club's pulsing lights emphasized the curve of Oz's cheeks, the lingering pout of Oz's lower lip, the angles of his jaw. But Logan's attention kept returning to those eyes —
Those eyes, and the hunger lurking within.
"Let himseeyou, sugar," Eli murmured, his mouth at Logan's ear. "Be his daring boy tonight, and show him who you are…"
Chapter 18
Drubbing
He didn't know how he'd gone from the edge of the dance floor, to being surrounded by moving, writhing bodies, to Eli's hands sliding over his chest, his hips, his sides.
And not only Eli's hands, either. At some point, a third pair of hands had joined in, trailing over the mesh front of Logan's shirt, a body pressed close against his back. Blindly, Logan reached up behind him, cupping his new partner's neck as they danced, just to see what Eli would do.
He didn't disappoint. Eli's eyes went wide before he barked out a laugh, and Logan felt an answering chuckle bubble up out of his chest.
"You're a natural!" Eli grinned, pulling Logan closer until his beard brushed the shell of Logan's ear. "What did I tell you? Don't think about labels. Think about fun. Think about how sexy we look together. Think about how hot and bothered you're making Oz."
Logan glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of that same unblinking stare, Oz's drink still untouched in his hand.
Their third abandoned them in favor of the bar, a new man slotting into his place. He was shorter than Logan, with a head of messy curls and a bitingly sharp grin.
"Hey," he murmured as Logan pressed back against him, his eyes flicking to land on Oz. "I'm Isaac."
"Logan." His voice was rough.
"Nice to meet you," Isaac said, arms sliding around Logan's waist, his cheek tucked against the curve of Logan's shoulder blade. His breath was hot against Logan's skin through the mesh shirt, his hands wandering, nails scratching lightly down Logan's stomach.
Logan was —
He was hard.
Fuck, he was so hard. And when he looked for Oz, Logan found him still watching from the edge of the crowd, his expression hungry —
Logan let his head fall back to rest against Isaac's temple, his eyes sliding shut as Isaac's hands slipped up under his tank.
The music was so loud he couldn't hear anything over it; the beat filling his veins. The smell of alcohol and sweat and cologne was thick, and the feeling of bodies pressed against his, skin brushing skin, it was all —
Good.
It was so fucking good.
One song blended into the next, the steady heartbeat of the club matching Logan's own. Isaac swapped places with a Darren, a Vincent, an Ernesto, a Liu, a Xavier, a Tim. Until it was Eli's chest against Logan's back, and a large, bearded guy wearing a tight "Baby Bear" t-shirt, grinning at them as he danced in the circle of Logan's arms.
Logan chanced a look over to where Oz had been standing by the bar. Was still standing by the bar, his eyes locked on Logan dancing.
"Y'know," Eli mused in Logan's ear. His breath was almost as warm on Logan's neck as his hands were, as Eli clutched the bare, exposed skin of Logan's sides. "I don't think I've ever seen Oz bring someone here? It's usually him hanging off that asshole Brett's arm."
"Who's Brett?" Logan grunted as Baby Bear was swept away by a lanky black man in a sharp goatee and a grin to rival the moon.
Logan frowned as a thought struck him —
Oz said he came here to dance. So… Why isn't he dancing?
