Picture from Steve Walker and here's your happy gay man, Paige. ;)
Dancing (c)2006 T.A. Chase
I love to sit on the edge of the floor and watch him dance. The music takes over his body and he moves with such grace. It’s as if he becomes water and allows the rhythm of the beat to take him where it wants to go.
He’ll dance to anything; salsa, rock, hip-hop. When the shirt comes off, I know it’s going to be a late night. I don’t mind because watching him dance is my second favorite thing to do in the entire world. You would think dancing with him would be my first, but I can’t dance to save my life. He’s tried to teach me, but I have two left feet and no ability to grasp the beat of the music.
His golden skin glistens under the strobe lights and I see the other guys starting to watch him as well. Soon he’ll have a crowd of them gathered around him, lusting after him. They’ll all be vastly better-looking than me. I’ll have to fight the urge to run out there and yell “Mine” at the top of my lungs. If I did that, he’d get a kick out of it.
I won’t though. Because I know he’s coming home with me, no matter how hard any of those boys try to catch his attention. He is mine and has been for nine years now. I don’t know why a gorgeous stud like him wants to stay with a plain regular guy like me, but hell, what do I care? He loves me and that’s all that matters.
The music slows and I see him glance around. Standing up, I move slowly through the crowd towards him. His face lights up in a bright smile when I drag my hand over his sweaty chest. My arms go around his shoulders, entwining my fingers in his dark hair. He pulls me close and his hands cup my ass. I sigh, resting my head on his chest, right over his heart.
The beat I find there is slow and steady. This is the music I love to dance to no matter where we are. His love makes me graceful.