Fallen Angels

Disclaimer: In short, not real, never happened. At least not the exact way I wrote it. ;)

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At first Michael had thought he was just imagining the prying eyes of one of his acquaintances prowling around the club. The ambiguous face had been there when he went up to the bar for a drink, head inclined and drink raised in acknowledgement. It had suddenly appeared behind him in the mirror as he cooled his burning face, droplets of water dripping off his chin and matting his hair.

While he danced, he felt the oppressive heat of the close air and a pair of eyes following him as he danced in abandon, eyes closed. It was a bit of a relief when fingers replaced the inquiring gaze, sliding over his arms and encircling his waist. Eyelids fluttering open, Michael found the recurring face smiling at him.

They pressed closer and, while the face had been uncertain, the body was most decidedly male. Disentangling himself from the tight embrace, Michael swayed, hips moving to the beat, feet tapping out the rhythm. His arms and hands wove a wicked welcome above his head, which his dance partner gladly accepted.

As discretely as possible, they bent their heads together, at first only sweaty foreheads touching then sliding cheek to cheek. Still thinking themselves discreet, they touched lips and tongues, teeth flashing between pink flesh in the gloom.

They managed to dance even as they rendered each other breathless, lips fused together and hands grasping at the jut of hip and shoulder.

The heat was overwhelming, pressed up hip to hip. Breaking away for breath, Michael inclined his head to press against one hollow cheek, feeling the stubble rasp against his own cheek. The thin fingers crept up his chest then slippewer wer to finger the button and fastenings to the very snug leather pants that clung to his damp skin.

The thrum of the music was hypnotic as was the delicious way their hips ground together. It was short work before Michael gasped his pleasure into the crook below the other’s ear.

Continuing to be discreet, Michael’s pants were done back up and the helping hand was wiped off on hhirthirt. Michael noticed none of it, body moving lazily and face slack with contentment.

Nick and Alex commanded a brilliant view of the whole floor show. They sputtered with drunken laughter and Alex leaned over to shout over the music into Nick’s ear, “Isn’t that the loveliest pair of angels?”

Their eyes followed the two making their way off the dance floor and towards the loo. Nick shouted back with an easy grin and a wink, “I hope you mean fallen angels.”

End