Unexpected Liaisons - 14. Temper Temper

“Clubbing?” Zupan raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

It had been a week. A week of dates and lunches, of seeing each other every moment they both could. A week of fantastic kisses and awesome sex. And a week of avoiding Zoltan and his questions, not answering phone calls from his friends and pretty much hiding away in full view with his new boyfriend. Everything was so new, so vibrant and exciting, that Zupan almost didn’t want to share this magical thing he had found lest its power be somehow diminished. He also knew that he was being stupid. At some point he was going to have to talk to his twin, properly, and about stuff like feelings.

It was weird to find that he didn’t want to. There was no way that Zoltan was going to be disappointed with him. After all, their best friend was Issac for christ’s sake. But somehow, maybe because he hadn’t spoken to Zoltan about it first off, had been all rough and abrasive the morning after he’d discovered sucking cock, he now feared the conversation, trepidation winding up like a coiled spring. They’d gone back to the South Alaska, but on Bay’s night off, and sat together by themselves, teasing each other and talking about any and every subject that came to hand.

A month ago, if Zupan had been asked what he had in common with a little blond twink, he would have said nothing at all, and laughed in the face of whoever was stupid enough to make such an assumption. But now he’d discovered Zander… OK, so there were things that they were never gong to understand about each other. As much as Zupan liked Zander’s hair, he was never going to understand why it took three different hair products, straighteners and half an hour to make it ‘just right’ when the boy rolled right out of bed looking like a rock star. Zander was never going to understand ice hockey or the attractions of roller derby because it was ‘just girls in fishnets hitting each other.’ But there was so much to talk about. They liked some of the same music, and Zupan got Zander listening to some heavy metal while he discovered that he quite liked some of the Abba songs after all. They both read, and Zupan could listen to the boy talk about clothes and textiles for forever his voice was that good when he used it right. They watched films in bed, snuggled up under the covers and murmured sweet nothings at each other for hours. Sometimes they never spoke at all, totally comfortable in the easy silence, wrapped up in I like a blanket.

Zander had told him he loved him the moment that they were out on the promenade in the sun, freshly showered and changed from the pool, and Zupan had kissed him in front of anyone who’d cared to look, and not given a damn about that.

“Clubbing?” He repeated, “You want me to come clubbing with you… and your friends?”

“Well dancing sexily for your boyfriend is kind of defeated if he isn’t there to look,” Zander had flashed him a wicked smile across the breakfast bar, “I just want you to come meet my friends.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” Zupan butted in quickly, “But I mean, I don’t really dance… and the stairs are going to be a problem. I can go down but not up.”

Zander’s face fell, his excited smile vanishing. Zupan did not like that. He hated asking for or accepting help getting around, after all, he’d built the last seven years on his life on the idea of proving everybody wrong and being independent, but if it made Zander happy… once every now and then wouldn’t kill him.

“Hey, it’s all right. We’ll get the bouncers to give us a hand eh?”

*

Zander had taken him shopping, which had probably been one of the weirder experiences of his life, and while Zupan had managed to escape buying anymore jeans or boots, apparently new underwear and a shirt for the evening was a requirement of meeting Zander’s friends. Zander had been on the phone to Billy, and while Zupan could only vaguely match a name to a face, he was happy that he would at least be known to someone. Inviting Issac and Bay had been Zander’s idea too, for which Zupan was grateful, but Bay was on an emergency late at the South Alaska because James had managed to get food poisoning with his continued frequenting of really dodgy late night Indian food and Issac had a special private party to cater for at the restaurant. Zupan had shrugged and told Zander he hadn’t minded, but it would have been nice to have someone one his side, he had no idea how many of Zupan’s friends he would be meeting.

Just put on your game face… Zupan grinned to himself. He’s flown half way around the world, represented his country at the Olympics and had his image plastered on billboard all over the globe, being a bit concerned about meeting Zander’s friends was silly. So he showered and shaved, trimmed up his beard, cut his hair again, and located the shopping that his boyfriend had bought for him.

Zupan had always worn loose cotton boxer shorts in the baggy variety, since they were easy to get on and off, but Zander had bought for him a pair of clingy grey silk boxer-briefs and made a face that looked like Christmas. Whatever made the boy happy… They were a struggle to get into, but Zupan had to admit after the hundredth adjustment that the material shaped his package rather nicely, and once he’d pulled on the low riding jeans, he saw why they were important. The grey silk waistband was visibly and just shiny enough to draw the eye. Zander was trying to make him into a tease. The shirt was another matter entirely. Zupan had tried to explain about his dislike of buttons, but Zander had smiled and kissed him and told him to try on the deep blue shirt with the white piping anyway. It was an American style shirt with an open collar and a contrasting yoke, and Zupan had been surprised to find that the buttons were not buttons, but poppers finished with a creamy pearlescence. He got the shirt on by practically bruising his breastbone with the pressure of his thumb, but he had to admit that his boyfriend had style and excellent taste, and he looked good.

The club was packed out, even early on in the evening, and Zupan had folded his arms and allowed the two bouncers to lift his chair up the stairs and into the club. He had avoided at looking at any of the pretty and not-so-pretty boys in the line. The music was loud and the bass throbbed in his ears, strobes and neon playing over the dancer’s floor. Zander’s fingers played along the back of his neck.

Zupan grinned at his boyfriend. Zander had gone for white straight leg jeans and neon yellow high top trainers which he’d paired with the most sparkly shirt Zupan had ever seen. It was pale pink with a huge glitter skull emblazoned across the front, surrounded by giant vibrant flowers. He shone when he moved in the lights.

“You might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Zupan made sure he spoke loud enough to be heard, brushing his lips against the soft shell of Zander’s ear.

“Babe…” Zander was smiling, pink lips and shining eyes, “I’ll go get us drinks yeah?” Zupan nodded, “You wanna corona?”

Zupan was close enough to the bar to see and hear what was going on. Zander ordered a corona and a cosmopolitan, smiled over at him and chatted to the guy next to him. A boy with stupid hair folded his arms on the bar next to Zander.

“Hey Zan! You got a beer?” He sounded sort of incredulous.

Zander sipped his drink and pushed the lime down the neck of Zupan’s beer.

“It’s for my boyfriend,” Zupan loved the shape Zander’s pink lips made when he said that word.

“You got yourself an actual man? And I thought that you and Billy were always going to make a really cute couple.”

“Come meet him.” Zander grinned and turned from the bar, followed by the kid with a stupid haircut, “Here babes.”

Zupan took the drink and smiled at Zander’s friend. It was time to turn on the charm, be the charismatic sports personality, and be nice to his lover’s friends, regardless of their silly hair.

“Thanks Zan,” He offered his other hand, “Zupan Standahl. Nice to meet you.”

The boy with the odd hair covered his reaction and surprise rather well, all things considered. Zander dropped into Zupan’s lap, his legs crossed sideways over the arm rest, and snuggled into Zupan’s shoulder. The friend took Zupan’s hand as though being disabled might be infectious.

“Danni,” He smiled, but his teeth were gritted, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Zupan swigged his beer, “What’ve you got there babes? Looks fancy.”

“Cosmo. The first one we made Bay learn so that there was something to drink at that damn bar you like so much.” He grinned and swatted Zupan’s firm bicep.

“So how did you two… when did…?” Danni looked completely confused by the situation in front of him.

“Oh you know…” Zander shrugged fluidly, “Friend of a friend, went for a drink…” He let the sentence trail off and stroked Zupan’s beard before kissing him. He tasted like pink cranberries.

If a girl had done that… Zupan shook himself mentally. If any girl had acted that possessive around him, he’d have either given them the cold shoulder or the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am treatment. But he liked the way that Zander seemed to have no qualms about being his boyfriend in public, wasn’t ashamed of the fact that his boyfriend was in a wheelchair, didn’t care that his friend was looking at him like he was mad. And it wasn’t like Zupan was being anything less than full on. Zoltan had always said that everything he did he did by jumping in head first. The music changed and Zander sat up straighter in his lap.

“Oh go on…”

“You don’t mind?” Zander was already half getting up, smiling like an idiot.

“Nah, go do your thing babe,” He swigged his beer, “This way I get to sit and watch your pretty ass dance.”

“Thanks Zu!” Zander kissed him, drained his drink and shimmied off to the dance floor. Zupan rolled himself to a spot near the railings that ran around the dance floor and set his brakes. Watching Zander dance was fun, even though the music wasn’t what he liked to listen too, because Zander danced like his life depended on it, as though it was the only thing his body was supposed do. He vibrated to the music, shimmied and swayed and swung his hips, and then flashed a sexy little biting-his-bottom-lip grin and hot summer blue eyes at Zupan that made his heart flip and his cock almost painfully hard.

“Oh my god. What is that doing here?” The voice was nasally camp and effeminate.

“Freak.”

“Pervert,” A third voice, “Like anyone here would pull that. Bet it doesn’t even work.”

“Reckon he gets off on watching?” The first voice again, Zupan felt his shoulders go tight and tense, “Go give ‘im a lap dance then!”

“Oi, fuck off!” The second voice, all shrill and as welcome as nails on a chalk board,” I wouldn’t touch it with ‘is.”

Zupan had to force himself to unclench his fists as the song wound down and Zander started back through the crowd towards him.

“Hey look! Zander!” The owner of the first voice came into view, a shock of bright purple hair. He and Zander hugged quickly, Zupan growled. “Where’s your new man then? Not dancing?”

Zander’s gaze broke from the violet haired man and his eyes lit up when he smiled at Zupan. Suddenly everything was better.

“Oh sweetie don’t be cruel,” the third speaker chipped in, standing right behind him, “Poor thing probably doesn’t even remember what it’s like to have a good boy in his lap.”

Two things happened at once. Zander’s expression changed from one of love to absolute horror and shock, his jaw set hard and his eyes narrowed. Zupan reached back, grabbed the speaker by what turned out to be his belt and a handful of shirt and the skin of his stomach and threw him bodily over his own head and the low railings onto the dance floor.

“Zu!”

Zupan had already removed his brakes and rolled around the end of the barrier and onto the deserted patch of lacquered flooring.

“You incomparable little shit!” He hit the man he’d thrown with the chair, then dragged him up by his collar, “You thought you could stand there and talk shit about me any longer?”

“That’s your boyfriend?” The first guy who had spoken, the camp one, had obviously lost control of his sense of self preservation, “Zan, honey, what made you think you were that desperate?”

Zander gaped at him, horrified and open mouthed. Zupan rounded on the speaker.

“Like you would know a good thing if it punched you square in the balls. Now fuck off before I do the same.”

“Zupan!” Zu was already rolling away in the direction of the stars. Security would be about to chuck him out anyway, and everyone was staring. He’d held his tongue as long as he could, and he knew if he stayed he was going to hit someone else. There was a reason other players feared him on the court. “Zupan!”

Rolling down stairs wasn’t very difficult when you knew how, and Zupan tilted his chair and rocked himself down the steps one at a time in a controlled half fall half hopping manner. Zander was hot behind him.

“Zu! Wait!”

“What for?” He was near the bottom of the stairs and his biceps shook with the effort of holding the position, “For your friends make fun of me some more? The thick pervert in a wheelchair?”

“They’re not my friends. I just sort of know them!” Zander sounded desperate, Zupan wouldn’t look at him. He descended the last few steps.

“Well I’d rather not be stuck in a room full of that much prejudice. I’ll see you later.”

And even though he knew it was childish and dramatic, and that he was going to regret it in about two minutes time, Zupan rolled away.