Gift # 10e of 36 To: bidyke73 From: predec2 Title: "I Could Have Shagged All Night"
Chapter Eleven: Getting Ready to Compete
Thursday Afternoon – One Day before the Benefit
Debbie pounded the wooden stick she had in her hand against the hardwood floor a couple of times to get everyone's attention. When everyone in the main studio continued to talk and ignore her, however, she finally took two fingers between her lips and let out a bloodcurdling whistle, which immediately caused everyone to quiet down. She smirked, grateful for her Italian blood and her good lungs.
"Shit," she muttered to herself. "They're like a fucking kindergarten class." Raising her voice and addressing the six couples now lined up on chairs spread out on opposite sides of the spacious room, she told them, "Now listen up! This is the last day you can practice your dance routines for tomorrow night. Make sure you take advantage of it." She slowly swept her gaze around the room, studying how solemn the participants all looked as they sat in pairs next to their instructors. It had been a hectic, sometimes frantic and arduous four weeks while her employees tried to whip these amateurs into shape, but she had to admit – they had all taken their tasks seriously and each pair could be a genuine contender for the trophy and prize money being awarded tomorrow night. Her gaze settled briefly on two pairs in particular who she saw as the strongest potential winners: the graceful athlete, Drew Boyd, and his dancing partner, Kenny Meyers, along with her personal favorite, Justin, and his enigmatic pupil known as Brian Kinney.
She had watched over the past week as her tenant and Kinney had gone out each evening after their dance practice for – she could just now even speak the word to herself – dates. She would have never in a million years figured Brian Kinney as the 'dating' type – she had seen plenty of his kind before; the type that knew how handsome they were and played it for all it was worth, the 'fuck-'em-and-leave'-em' type. The type that did not care for entanglements and simply existed to assuage their pleasure, however and wherever they liked. But apparently she had been wrong about this one, at least when it came to her youngest instructor. It had been written all over Justin's face the next morning when he had come down the staircase with a spring in his step and a smile that had rivaled the Empire State Building lit up at night.
She had already known what time he had come home that first night – she had heard Crazy Man Wilkins, as everyone in the neighborhood called him, screaming for someone to move their car around 1:30 a.m., and she had known instinctively who he was yelling at. She had walked over to her bedroom window facing out onto the street, just in time to see two shadowy figures – one tall, one slender and shorter – walking hand in hand toward her front door. Smiling at the romantic gesture, she had heard Justin opening the door several minutes later and then climbing up the steps to his room. Not able to resist cracking her bedroom door open a few inches to make sure he was alone (somewhat surprised to find that he was), she had quietly closed her door behind her, not wanting Justin to think she had been spying on him.
The next morning, her tenant had come bounding down the steps in response to her call to him that breakfast was ready; his eyes alit with a radiance she had never seen before. And while he had not been overly generous in describing his date with his pupil – even blushing at some point when Debbie asked him about whether or not they would be going out again – she could tell by the animation in his voice and the way that his face almost glowed that he had had a glorious time.
She had initially been concerned that Brian might be toying with Justin like a cat does with a mouse in an attempt to merely get into his pants, but as the next few days went by and Brian religiously came to the door each evening to pick Justin up, the look on his face began to take on the same expression that Justin wore – one of tenderness, fascination, and even adoration, despite the older man's attempts to disguise it when Justin was looking. She could still see it, though, whenever Justin turned around to pick up his keys and Brian's eyes followed his every move, and in the way that Brian helped him with his coat or lightly held his hand protectively at Justin's waist as they turned to leave.
Now as she peered over at the two of them, their bodies turned at an angle so their knees were lightly touching, she wondered how much of that mutual attraction would transfer onto the dance floor tomorrow night when they finally had a chance to dance in front of a crowd. Something told her that they would capture everyone's attention immediately and would definitely be the couple to beat, a fact that couldn't make her happier. As the owner of the studio, she was supposed to remain impartial, and to everyone there she appeared to be just that. Silently, though, she couldn't help hoping that Justin would ultimately come out the winner and go home with the prize money so he could fulfill one of his biggest dreams – obtain enough money to go to art school. She knew it wouldn't pay for it entirely – she had already assured Justin that he could continue to work at least part time at her studio to supplement his tuition – but it would at least allow him to start taking classes there.
She pounded the stick down onto the hardwood floor when the voices started up again. "Okay! Get to work! And remember – you all need to be at the auditorium tomorrow night no later than 6:30 p.m. sharp! Now get your asses in gear and get to it!"
She watched as everyone rose to their feet and wandered off toward the private studio rooms; everyone, that is, except for one of the contestants – the one known as Marilyn – who lingered behind and stared over at her intently.
"Yeah?" Debbie asked, one eyebrow arched in question.
"It's not going to happen," Marilyn told her bluntly. "But don't worry; he'll still come out a winner."
Debbie furrowed her brow; this one had been an odd cookie ever since she had shown up that first day, constantly making these cryptic, crystal-ball-type comments whenever they spoke. But this one was the strangest of them all.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Debbie groused as the woman's dance partner fidgeted nearly, clearly anxious to get on with the last dance rehearsal.
Marilyn smiled mysteriously. "You'll see. And you'll be partly responsible for it, too." Nodding briefly, she turned and walked toward the door leading to the private studios, leaving Debbie shaking her head as she watched her go.
Chapter Twelve: Last Rehearsal
Fifteen Minutes Later
"Ouch! Justin!"
Justin bit his lip contritely as he stepped back from landing on Brian's toes. "Shit, I'm sorry," he mumbled self-consciously as Brian immediately stopped their waltz, wrapping his arms around Justin's waist to hold him stationary.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked softly. "I thought that was MY job," he teased, but he didn't get the smile he had been hoping to see. He frowned; Justin was always such a consummate teacher and so meticulous in his instructions that this was not like him at all. "Justin?" he prodded as the blue eyes lifted to meet his. "What is going on? Huh?"
Justin sighed. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He finally bestowed a small smile on him. "I guess my nerves are starting to get the better of me."
Brian kept one hand around Justin's waist as he used his other to cup his partner's cheek tenderly; he slowly caressed the skin with his fingers as he replied softly in disbelief, "You? You don't seem like the kind to get butterflies."
If you only knew, Justin thought, thinking about how he feels every time Brian comes to pick him up for a date and how his body reacts every time they touch; even though he was feeling more comfortable being with Brian now – and was enjoying their time immensely – he still had this fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach every time Brian came to call for him. He wasn't quite sure what to call this feeling yet – but he did know that Brian made him feel things he had never felt before with any other man and that he looked forward to each and every moment they spent together. He was also wondering what would happen AFTER the contest was over; would their own personal 'dance' be over, too, especially since he had managed to stick by his conviction not to have sex with him yet? He didn't have the courage to divulge those concerns to Brian, though, so he decided to keep it strictly professional when he replied.
He shrugged. "I always get this way just before it's time for me to perform in front of a live crowd, no matter how many times I do it," he explained.
"You have nothing to be nervous about," Brian assured him affectionately, his heated gaze making Justin's face flush. "You're an incredible dancer." He lifted one corner of his mouth up in amusement. "Maybe just in case, though, I'll wear MY boots tomorrow."
He was rewarded finally with a slight smile as Justin reminded him, "Boots won't exactly go with our costumes."
Brian grimaced. "Don't remind me; if I'd have known that we would have to wear dance costumes like some fag trick-or-treaters, I would have never agreed to that fucking bet in the first place."
Brian had told Justin that first day why he was participating, and what had been the cause of it. It explained a great deal about why someone like Brian would even feel the need to participate in something so public as a dance contest; in fact, the more he got to know him, the more Justin realized that it would probably be the ONLY reason why he would do it, that and the fact that he always kept his word. But when he had found out a couple of weeks ago that they would have to wear dance costumes as part of the contest, also, Brian had almost bowed out, bet or no bet.
Brian remembered the day well, though, when Justin had walked into their private studio room modeling the costume that he would be wearing the night of the benefit; it turned out that Debbie, besides being the owner of the studio, was also an expert seamstress, and to save her business money, she was constantly coming up with costumes the dancers could wear for performances. Instead of picking out one of the myriad costumes that she already had on a rack back in the rear of the studio, however, she had decided to make a new one for Justin. Unbeknownst to Brian, she had used Justin's measurements to create an entirely new one for the quick step that fitted him like a glove and left nothing to the imagination. It was a solid black, long-sleeved, one-piece jumpsuit made of satin with a plunging V-neck that exposed several inches of his skin and complimented his skin tone perfectly. The entire outfit looked like it had been glued on, and tantalizing curved around each part of Justin's body, displaying his deliciously-curved ass and what appeared to be a generously-sized cock held in place in the front. Brian's eyes had swept over every centimeter as Justin had promptly blushed, a feature that he secretly found so endearing in its humility.
Once Brian had seen his own outfit for the faster-tempo dance – a navy-blue, flowing, satin shirt, also with a plunging V-neckline, and a pair of black leather pants with black, polished dancing shoes – and had noticed how Justin's eyes had darkened in appreciation and desire as he had strutted his stuff in front of him, he had finally decided that perhaps playing dress-up had its advantages and he had changed his mind. The other outfit for their waltz – two matching pairs of black tuxes with white, open-collar, silk shirts and the same black, polished shoes – weren't nearly as ostentatious, and could even be worn to other events, so that one took less convincing. Justin looked stunning in both outfits, however, and it was all Brian could do not to eye-fuck him right then and there while he paraded around in them, his libido promptly going into overdrive and making him question how he had gone all this time without going out of his mind with desire for him.
Somewhere along the line, though, his intense craving to be with Justin in every sense of the word had been transformed into something different; oh, he still wanted nothing more than to intimately map every inch of Justin's body; but there was another emotion that he was experiencing that he suspected he recognized, but refused to acknowledge yet: love. But what else would explain why he would agree to continue seeing Justin every afternoon for practice and going out on fucking dates with the man if he wasn't – gulp – in love? Was it possible? He had never been in love – sure, he loved Gus deeply, but he had never been IN love with another man; not with someone he could actually imagine being with all the time. But he had found as he and Justin had spent more and more time together, he felt so comfortable being with him, so amazed by him, so proud of him. And he knew when he wasn't with him, that he constantly thought about him to the point where he actually started daydreaming about the next time they would be together, even zoning out while sitting at his desk working on his next campaign. WAS he in love with this incredible man, then? All he knew – or agreed to acknowledge – was that he wanted to find out, and whatever happened tomorrow, he wanted to keep seeing him as long as Justin felt the same way.
Justin grinned up at him. "Maybe not," he agreed in response to Brian's statement. "But I'm glad you did, because you look fucking hot in both of them."
Brian leaned in to kiss Justin on the lips briefly as he pulled back to gaze down into the sky-blue eyes, surprised that he didn't immediately respond with some sort of typical, smug statement like "I know." Instead, he replied, "You looked pretty hot yourself, you know." Gratified to see Justin's smile back on his face, he stroked his fingers over his partner's cheek before Justin whispered, "Thanks."
"For what?" Brian asked, his fingers stilling their motion as he stared down into Justin's face which appeared more relaxed now.
"For trying to make me feel better. For just being you." Justin reached up to clasp Brian's hand in his. "I'm ready to practice some more now. We're going to leave them in the dust tomorrow and we're going to win this thing."
"Of course," Brian agreed instantly as they brought their hands up to the standard dancing position out from their bodies. "There was never any question of that. The only real question is – who will get to keep the trophy?"
Justin laughed as they began to smoothly glide around the room, his previous worries temporarily forgotten.
Chapter Thirteen: May the Best Man Win
Next Morning – Diner
"Well, look who showed up – the loser," Brian dryly commented as he sipped some black coffee from his china mug at the counter.
"I was about to say the same thing," Emmett retorted as he slid onto the empty seat next to him. "And I can't wait to go down there and watch YOU go down – finally."
Brian smirked at the double entendre as he snorted. "In your dreams, Honeycutt – Justin and I have this in the bag."
"Justin?" Emmett asked curiously as he played with a straw, trying hard to sound uninterested and unconcerned, but secretly wondering if Brian had an authentic reason to sound so sure of himself or if he was just being his same, old, arrogant self. He thought he heard a distinctive tone of pride in Brian's voice this time, however, that wasn't normally there.
"He's my dancing instructor – and he's damn good at it, too," Brian explained. "Trust me – your boy will be the one going down, NOT me." He smirked. "What a shame he won't be going down on YOU. I guess you'll just have to worship his cock from afar."
Emmett opened his mouth to immediately correct his conceited friend, but instantly thought better of it. He would derive immense satisfaction from correcting Brian – in reality, he knew from personal experience that Drew could definitely keep up with the best of the cocksuckers in his opinion – but if he told Brian that, he would also know that he knew all along about Drew's sexuality and had entered into their bet deceptively. The only thing worse than Brian making fun of him was Brian on a vengeful rampage after feeling like he had been misled. No, if he wanted to continue enjoying Drew's 'attention' – and stay in one piece – it was best he keep his mouth shut for now.
"Well, I guess we'll find out tonight," he commented as he hurriedly caught the attention of the waiter to order his favorite – pecan pancakes. "May the best man win."
"Oh, he will, Honeycutt," Brian deadpanned as he threw a $10 bill down on the counter and to Emmett's relief rose from his stool; he patted Emmett's shirt sleeve patronizingly as Emmett glared up at him. "He will." Smirking once more in conviction, Brian gathered up his keys and turned to leave.
Chapter Fourteen: Shall We Dance?
Plunkett Civic Center – Downtown Pittsburgh – 7:15 p.m.
Debbie pulled back the heavy, maroon velour curtain at the side of the backstage area to peer out at the packed audience sitting in their seats that encircled the dancing arena; the entire room was abuzz with a hum of excitement as everyone waited impatiently for the start of the benefit. Some were fanning themselves with their programs in the surprising humidity, others were scooting sideways toward the mid-row seats to take a seat, while others were murmuring animatedly to themselves. It was a varied patchwork of culture – some dressed in fancy duds, some in casual wear; others obvious drag queens adorned in their glittering spandex and outrageously high, curly wigs and heavy makeup. She was elated at the turnout, however; she knew the packed auditorium would mean a lot of money being funneled into Vic's House, a fact that made her extremely pleased.
"How's it looking, Debbie?" Ben, the emcee, asked her; as a gay male with HIV, as well as her son's partner, he seemed the perfect choice to be the host for the evening's activities. "Good crowd?"
Debbie nodded as she closed the curtain back and turned to face him with a huge smile on her face. "Good? It's fucking incredible!" she raved as Ben nodded back at her. "Not a vacant seat in the place!"
"That's great!" he exclaimed, happy for her and for Michael; he knew how much this event meant to both of them. "I'm sure Michael wished he could be here tonight."
Debbie nodded. "I know. But I always taught him to be responsible to his obligations, and he couldn't have known it would turn out to be the same day as the fantasy and sci fi convention."
Ben nodded; Michael would have moved heaven and earth to be here; but the convention, being held in Cleveland, was the Midwest's premier event, and it had cost him hundreds of dollars in exhibition fees to be a part of it. With his mother's and Ben's reassurance that Vic would understand, he had finally decided to honor his obligation and attend the weekend event, but only after promising to commit 25% of his total profits toward the Vic Grassi House.
"Well, I'll make sure to tell him what a big success it was when I talk to him later tonight," Ben informed her as he walked up to her. "Are all the contestants here now?"
Debbie nodded; she had done a count herself about fifteen minutes ago, and had determined that all twelve participants were here and quickly getting into costume for the first number – the quick step. "Yeah. The first pair is dressed and ready to go. I'm about to go check on all the others, though." Her eyes lit up with excitement. "It's going to mean so much to Vic's House, Ben! Isn't it wonderful?" For once, she didn't feel that heavy weight in her stomach, that guilt she had been carrying around for so long about not being here when Vic died. Tonight, she felt nothing but satisfaction over the fact that she could do so much good for the men currently residing there.
"Yes, Debbie, it's great," Ben agreed as he clamped his hand on her shoulder. "It truly is."
She nodded. "You look great yourself, Honey," she complimented him on his dapper appearance in traditional black tux, white shirt and black tie. "Thanks for doing this tonight."
Ben smiled at her affectionately. "Anytime, Deb; I was happy to do it. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd better get ready for the show."
She nodded before rushing off to check on everyone participating. It was going to be a magical night.
"Brian, come and help me get this damn outfit zipped up," Justin groused from inside the closed door of the bathroom; Brian had found it quite amusing a few minutes ago when Justin had modestly decided to get dressed in the adjacent bathroom, away from his prying eyes. He had found it both charming as well as incredibly nerve-wracking to think about a naked Justin just a few feet away, but never one to go back on his word he had gritted his teeth and remained in the other room as Justin had shimmied into his tight-fitting outfit.
"I'm coming," Brian called out; smirking at the irony. If only...He knocked on the door a couple of times, getting a 'come on in' reply from Justin as he turned the doorknob to enter.
Justin turned around as Brian entered and his mouth fell open as he observed Brian only half-dressed in his costume; thankfully, though, the man's lower region was covered. It didn't hide the prominent bulge, however, that was hidden beneath the tight fabric as he gazed at Justin appreciatively and whistled. "Very hot," he raved, his voice huskily with desire as Justin blushed.
"I...I thought you were already dressed," he sputtered out, unable to take his eyes away from the bare, bronze-colored skin of Brian's toned chest. Brian had to be the most glorious man he had ever seen, including even Drew Boyd. Oh, Boyd was handsome, rugged, and very muscular – that much was certain – but he didn't convey the same confidence, swagger, and just outright sex appeal that Brian did. And the more they were together, the more Justin was learning about this complex man who was not exactly as he appeared. In fact, he was coming to the realization that he was falling in love with Brian. The thought both terrified and excited him, because after tonight he had no idea where they would stand. Would Brian expect him to put out now that the dance was over? And once he did – and God knows it was all he could think about anymore – would he just dump him and move onto the next conquest? Only time would tell. For now, however, all he could think about was getting through the next several hours and hopefully winning the competition so he would be able to start attending PIFA. He had to concentrate on that. After it was over, though, he and Brian needed to have an important talk.
"I'm dressed enough," Brian replied in a velvety tone of voice as he smirked at Justin's reaction. "Let me see what I can do with the zipper," he implored softly as Justin nodded and turned his back to him. He flinched slightly at Brian's warm fingers whispering over his skin as he felt the other man trying to pull the zipper up near the small of his back. He shivered even more, however, as Brian began to slowly pull the zipper upward and whispered hotly in his ear, "This isn't exactly the direction I would have preferred to take this. You look incredible, but I can't wait to see you out of this outfit." His job done, he pressed his back against Justin's and, wrapping his arms tightly around to link them at the other man's waist, he nuzzled the tender flesh of his partner's neck as Justin groaned softly.
"Brian..." he whispered pleadingly as he reached back to brush the back of his hand against his dancing partner's cheek. "You need to finish getting dressed, too; we go on right after Drew and Kenny." God, yes, Justin thought desperately as his heart pounded in reaction, hurry. The sooner, the better.
He could feel Brian's hard-on pressing against his ass as he closed his eyes with desire. He decided the man was deliberately torturing him, and it was definitely working. If Brian could get him to react this way with both of them dressed – well, almost dressed in Brian's case – he could only imagine what it would feel like to have bare skin on bare skin in the throes of passion. Shit. He HAD to get his emotions under control, or he would humiliate himself on the dance floor; not to mention that he wouldn't be able to concentrate at all.
Finally finding the courage, then, to pull away from his partner, he turned to face him, glaring at the all-knowing expression on Brian's face. "PLEASE finish getting dressed, Brian!" he urged as Brian grinned back at him evilly. "You are incorrigible!" he retorted as he stepped backwards to clear some space between them.
Brian's grin only became wider as he finally turned around and advised, "I need help with MY zipper, too, Sunshine."
"I'll go get Debbie, then," Justin replied, only half kidding as he hurried toward the door; he didn't quite get there, however, as a muscular hand wrapped itself around Justin's wrist and yanked him over to his side. "I think you can handle it just fine," he said innocently as he quirked one eyebrow up.
Justin sighed in resignation. "Turn around," he ordered him. "And NO funny stuff."
"Wouldn't think of it," Brian quipped as he felt Justin's fingers at the cleft of his back; how he wished at that moment that somehow the zipper would stick, but the damn thing rebelled as Justin easily slid it up his back and stopped at his neckline. Turning around, he pulled Justin closer by holding onto his upper arms.
"Brian, the music's starting..."
"You don't expect me to go out there in this spandex nightmare without a good luck kiss first?" he asked. "It's common practice before a dance competition."
Justin huffed. "It IS not."
Brian grinned as he pulled him even closer so their bodies were flush against each other. "It is now," he told him huskily, his smile fading into something more intense as his lips gently pressed against his instructor's. It didn't take long for the old familiarity to encompass them as Brian's tongue swept inside and deepened the kiss and Justin's arms wound around his neck to bring them even closer.
Only a loud knocking on their door a minute later caused them to break off the kiss as Debbie yelled, "You're up in five minutes! Shake a leg, boys!"
"We're coming, Deb!" Justin called out as Brian gave him one additional, quick peck on the lips before releasing him.
"You look fabulous, Justin," he whispered to his teacher with a smile. Reaching to take his hand, he told him, "Now let's go knock them dead."
Justin nodded with a smile of his own as the two of them strode hand-in-hand toward the door.
Chapter Fifteen: First Round
Merely by a stroke of luck, the two favored couples to win were scheduled to dance first and second; from the first round of contestants, based on the judges' scores three of the pairs would be invited back to perform their second dance, the waltz.
Brian and Justin watched from the sidelines as Drew and his partner, Kenny, were introduced first by their emcee, Ben, and walked out on stage to be greeted with boisterous applause, whistles, and shouts of appreciation from the audience. Brian had to admit as he looked at Drew's outfit that the guy was definitely built well; and the silvery, one-piece outfit he was wearing showcased his best features. The man had massive thighs, a trim waist, an impressive package, and green eyes that seemed to make everyone in the audience swoon; he even noticed Honeycutt in the first row, clapping enthusiastically at the man as he jiggled up and down in his seat in barely-controlled glee.
Brian couldn't help shaking his head in disgust, thinking how much of a spectacle he was making; there was no way that Drew Boyd would ever be interested in such a nelly queen as Emmett. He and Justin watched as the two men waited for the music to start playing before they began their routine.
It was executed flawlessly, both of the dancers having pasted on a broad smile as they floated around the room rapidly in time to the music. Apparently it was true that athletes made some of the best dancers, because Brian had to grudgingly confess that Boyd seemed very apt for the role.
As if reading his mind, Justin whispered anxiously, "He's really good. He and Kenny make a great couple."
"Yeah," Brian admitted. He turned to bestow a reassuring smile on his partner's face, however, as he added, "But they're still not as good as we're going to be, are they?"
Justin smiled back at him. "No, they're not," he said firmly. "They're good; but we're going to be fantastic together."
"We already are," Brian replied as he took Justin in his arms. "And we're going to fucking win, because I have the best teacher." He leaned down to give Justin a quick kiss on the lips just as the music died and the crowd erupted into appreciative applause. "I think that's our cue," Brian told Justin as they broke apart. "It's our turn now."
Justin nodded as they watched Drew and Kenny take a bow together and leave the stage hand-in-hand, both sweaty and panting heavily from their 3 ½ minute routine. "Amateurs," Brian commented within earshot as they hurried by, producing a laugh from Justin just like he had hoped. Brian's face sobered somewhat, however, as he realized that this was it; in a few seconds, he would have to walk out onto that polished, wooden floor in a flamboyant, ridiculously tight outfit and prance around like some fag queen.
His hand reached to squeeze Justin's tightly, so tightly that Justin turned to look at him in concern. "Brian, you okay?"
Brian swallowed before nodding. "Yeah. It's just that..."
"...You're a little nervous."
"There're a lot of people out there, Justin," he murmured in awe as they gazed out at the attentive audience that had just watched Drew and Kenny perform.
Justin smiled at Brian's comment, instantly recognizing the expression on his face. It was the same one HE used to wear when he first started out. Being on display – especially in such a revealing outfit – would give even the most confident of men stage fright. But he was secure enough by now in Brian's abilities to know that he had nothing to be afraid of. "Brian, just breathe," he coached him. "Take deep breaths and keep holding my hand. You're going to do just fine; MORE than fine. We're going to be spectacular together. Don't look at anyone else; just keep looking at me and remembering what you learned. And SMILE! Okay?"
Brian nodded as he turned to stare into Justin's eyes; the determined look on his face instantly made him calmer. "Okay, if I can breathe in this thing," he grumbled. "But I still don't work best in spandex."
Justin laughed as Ben began to introduce them. "Brian, you look best in anything," he told his dancing partner sincerely.
"Even in my birthday suit?" was the saucy reply.
Justin groaned. "Don't go there, Brian," as his partner pushed his tongue into the corner of his cheek and grinned back at him.
The two of them each took a deep breath in an effort to calm themselves before Justin said, "Come on, we can do this. Remember what I said," he reminded him as, of one accord, they walked out behind the curtain and over to the center of the stage, big, regal smiles on their faces that belied the butterflies in their stomachs.
The first thing Brian noticed after the applause died down were the rows of hot, blinding lights shining down on them from the ceiling; the second thing he noticed was how quiet the room became as they stood there facing each other, waiting for the music to begin. It seemed to take an eternity for the music to start, but Brian knew that realistically it was only a few seconds. He gazed into Justin's eyes, taking comfort and strength from the expression of confidence on his teacher's face, just before the music finally began and they begin to move almost automatically across the dance floor in each other's arms, just like they had done so many times before in rehearsal.
They made a striking couple as they danced quickly around the perimeter of the hardwood floor, their stark differences in looks and stature making for a dramatic picture. Justin didn't have to remind Brian to keep a smile on his face while they danced; all he had to do was smile back at him and it was like an infectious disease. The two locked gazes and didn't look anywhere else.
For Brian, that wasn't hard to do, because to him it was like no one else was in the room. There weren't hundreds of faces peering admiringly at them, not a bank of lights glaring down at them; not even a sound system blaring out the song that they had chosen to use for their performance. Right then, it was just him and Justin as he held him in his arms and they stepped in perfect synchrony across the floor in time to the fast tempo.
The time was over before they knew it; as soon as they stopped, the audience erupted into a round of boisterous applause, some of them even rising impetuously to reward them with a standing ovation for their efforts. Justin beamed in gratitude as he turned to flash a smile at Brian, who returned it warmly as they clasped hands and faced the audience. They bowed gracefully as one before turning to hurry off the stage so the next pair could compete.
Brian twirled Justin around jubilantly in relief as soon as they were off-stage. "We were fucking brilliant!" he exclaimed as Justin put his fingers over his lips in an admonition for him to keep his voice down, although with the loud music now erupting for the next contestants the crowd couldn't possibly hear him.
He was swept up into Brian's arms as he gave him a tight hug. "What a rush!" he heard Brian murmur against his neck before he pulled back just enough to look in Brian's eyes and was rewarded with a passionate kiss.
A clearing of someone's throat nearby caused them to break off their kiss and turn, cheek-to-cheek, to peer into a pair of amused, blue eyes. "Celebrating a little early, boys?" Debbie asked, noticing how closely Brian was holding onto his teacher. "You have to get into the finals first, remember." Although, to Debbie it was a forgone conclusion; after that performance, unless the rest of the contestants were positively dazzling, there was no way this particular pair could not be chosen to advance to the next phase.
Brian pulled away reluctantly from Justin, just now aware of how demonstrative he was being, as he began to smooth down his outfit. "We will be," he told Debbie confidently as he placed his hand around Justin's shoulder.
She smiled. "Well, if confidence is one of the factors they'll be judging, you're right," she replied. "But let's wait until everyone's danced and we see the judges' scoring. Better go take a short break so you'll be ready to go for the next round – of dancing, I mean," she said with a wink as Justin blushed at the insinuation.
As soon as Debbie was out of earshot, Brian pulled Justin closer to his side and whispered hotly in his ear, "I could use a shower; I'm all sweaty and stinky now. Join me?"
The seductive tone of Brian's voice went straight to Justin's cock, and with the constrictive fabric it was apparent to everyone else as well who might be observing them. "Brian..." he murmured in embarrassment as his pupil twisted him around and wrapped his arms around Justin's back.
Justin could feel Brian's hard-on pressing against his belly as he admitted, "That's very tempting." Brian's mouth broke into a pleased smile until Justin added regretfully, "But it's not a good idea right now."
Brian groaned in frustration. Why he was willing to put up with this constant sexual tension was beyond him; any other time he would have promptly moved onto the next target if he kept getting rebuffed. But he couldn't do that; it seems that this particular man had taken up permanent residence in his heart. "Justin, you're fucking killing me here," he confessed as the blue eyes lifted to meet his.
Justin reached up to caress the soft, auburn hair at the back of Brian's neck. "Brian, we have to concentrate on the next dance; I can't do that if...If I'm distracted by something else – no matter how much I want to."
Brian's eyes widened as Justin opened his mouth to finally explain what he was feeling in his heart, only to be interrupted by Debbie.
"What did I tell you two?" she called over to them in exasperation, her hands on her hips. "Get a move on, Justin! You and Brian only have about fifteen minutes before the second round begins!" The twinkle in her eyes betrayed the curt expression on her face, though, as the two men hurried off to get changed.
"Everything okay, Deb?" Ben asked as he walked up to join her, some programmed music playing overhead while the audience enjoyed a 15-minute intermission before the first-round winners were announced. He placed his hand on her shoulder as she nodded, watching Brian and Justin disappearing around the corner toward their dressing room.
"Yeah, Ben," she said with a soft smile, noting how Brian kept his hand lightly around Justin's waist. "I think everything's going just fine."