Sam felt a bit distracted as he danced that night, thinking of the man waiting for him in his dressing room.
He was waiting, right?
Sam wasn't sure if he'd be relieved or disappointed to get done dancing and find the dressing room empty. Although he had a shrewd notion that disappointment would win out.
Damned if he did. Damned if he didn't.
Finally, finally, his stage time ended, Sam striking a pose that had the masses clapping and screaming for more. He gave a cocky (pardon the pun) waggle of his hips, and turned to make his way back to his dressing room. It never even occurred to him to dress first. After all, he never did. That's what the dressing room was for. He'd go in there, and get dressed in street clothes and either head back onto the floor to blend in (sort of) until he found whoever he was going to spend the night with that night in the random press of bodies, or he gave up and went home. Usually the first.
But not tonight.
No. Tonight there was a man waiting for him in his dressing room.
A man who he felt drawn too. Wanted. And who he was pretty sure wasn't into men.
Frustration.
Ah well.
He arrived at his dressing room and pushed the door open, looking around to see if Keiran had really stayed.