He glanced over to find Oz again, a smile bubbling up from deep inside, spurring Logan to hold out his hand in invitation.
Something in Oz's face brightened at the gesture. He knocked the last of his drink back before making his way through the parting crowd. Every damn cheesy romcom Logan's older sister and her friends had ever made him sit through come to life right then and there; all fused into the form of the man heading right for Logan.
He'd always thought it was some utter bullshit. But here, like this? Logan was surprised to find he fuckinglovedit.
"Oz looks good tonight, don't you think?" Eli murmured in Logan's ear.
Logan's "Yeah," slipped out before he realized it, but he figured… Hell, why not? He doubted it was anything Eli hadn't already seen. "Not sure what it is, but… He looks confident. Relaxed."
"Oh, sugar," Eli laughed. "That's because he knows he's safe here. Relatively speaking, of course; never take your eyes off your drink. But what I meant was: Oz lookshappy."
Logan rolled his eyes. "He's always happy," he replied, twisting so Eli could hear him over the roar of the club.
He caught the barest edge of a surprised expression on Eli's face, but any response the other man might've made was lost to the hum of the crowd as suddenly, Oz was there.
"You two look like you're enjoying yourselves." Oz grinned as he stepped in close. "Having a good time?"
"Yeah," Logan answered him. His hands had automatically found the curve of Oz's hip, the familiar feel of him, the shape of him. "Even better now. But why aren't you dancing?"
"And miss the show?" Oz asked, laughing.
Heat rushed to Logan's cheeks to realize Oz meant him. Eli gave a throaty chuckle, pressing so close against Logan's back he found himself sandwiched between the smaller men.
"So, are you here to show us your moves, Oz, or are you two going to chat all night?" Eli asked.
"He's gonna dance," Logan replied, trying to keep his expression neutral.
"Oh, am I?" Oz laughed, his hands resting on Logan's shoulders.
"Yeah," Logan teased, sliding a hand under the hem of Oz's shirt, his palm coming to rest against the small of his back, skin against skin. "You are."
The heat in Oz's eyes was enough to burn.
"I think I'm starting to get the idea why he brought you tonight, sugar," Eli mused, his teeth catching at the shell of Logan's ear, his beard scratching the back of his neck. "You two let me know if you want a third, alright?"
Logan bit his lip, but…
"It's up to Oz. He's the one that calls the shots," Logan replied, half-teasing, and half — not.
"You sure?" Oz breathed, leaning close, his lips a hair's breadth from Logan's. "You can say no, Logan. This — I don't think our deal covered this."
"I said I'd do anything you asked," Logan whispered, his blood thrilling with something new and wild. "So…ask."
"Could be fun." Oz's grin was wide as his hands came up, sliding over the back of Logan's neck, his thumbs pressing lightly into the front of Logan's throat, making him feel… Wanted. Desired.
Claimed.
"You need another drink?" Oz asked, but Logan just shook his head.
"I'm good."
And he was, buzzing more with the thrill of Oz and Eli and a dozen other guys' hands on him than anything else. With the sense of freedom thrumming in his blood with the pulse of the club music, the strobe lights and body glitter dazzling his vision.
Free and easy in his skin like Logan had never felt before, time seemed to lose its meaning. Even the warm press of Eli at Logan's back faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was Oz. Oz in his arms, Oz pressed against him; his eyes bright and hungry as he and Logan and the whole club moved together.
"Oz," Eli grunted over the greeting shouted from the front.
Because of course a feeling that pure couldn't last for long.
