Landfall - 6. Dance Floor Revelations

We settled into a comfortable routine for the next few days. Dave coaching me in the mornings by the pool, regular volleyball with the guys, lazy afternoons by the pool, dinner out at different places at night. By Saturday, I'm getting restless, so Greg, Jonathan, David and I joined our volleyball partners for a day at the beach. It was a change of scenery, but I was still antsy, so when one of the guys suggested drinks and dancing for Saturday night, I was ready.

After dinner, we all headed to one of the clubs one of the guys suggested. Probably 10:30 pm or so when we arrived. “Trash Disco Night” according to the signs. Yeah, it was a gay club—and I was ok with it, figured I'd grab a few drinks, enjoy watching the crowd, relax with the music. Never danced with a guy, but really didn't figure that'd happen. Hell, never been to a gay bar before, but a bar's a bar, right?

Walking in past the bar, I'd noticed the nicely-sized crowd, mostly guys, but a few women coupled off near a pool table in back past the dance floor. Various sized groups out on the patio in back, or walking in from the beach. A few couples dancing on the patio barefoot, sandals piled on the side. Back inside, we grabbed a couple of tables, and pushed 'em together for our group of 10. Steven, one of our volleyball guys, took our drink orders and went to the bar for 'em, Jonathan following to help shuttle 'em back to our table.

Casual banter went on at the table as we all made small talk. A few of our guys headed to the dance floor, but one of the volleyball guys asked all about me, and I gave him a brief spiel using the info Dave had given me about my past, ending with, “...and I'm still trying to decide what career I wanna pursue next.” Seemed to satisfy the guy's curiosity, and the conversation moved on. Must have done ok with my “past”, Dave was next to me, looked, nodded, and smiled when I was done.

All through the evening, Larry—Mr. Grabber in Yellow Speedos—kept watching me. Not making me uncomfortable, but enough that I noticed. He was also keeping an eye on Dave, too. When the guys next to me headed to the dance floor, he moved beside me from the other side of the table. “How are you liking your vacation here?”

“It's been good. Really enjoying the break, helping clear the head. Last few weeks have done a number on me.” Am I the master of understatement or what?

“Great that you and David were able to schedule to be off at the same time. How long have y'all been together?”

Hoisting my second drink, I sipped it, and responded, “ Yeah, it just worked out that way. David and I are good friends, so great to have his company. We aren't a couple.”

Larry smiled big. “Ok, just didn't wanna step on any toes. He's quite a stud.” And with that, he leaned across my back, tapped Dave on the shoulder, spoke across my back and said, “Come dance with me, David.”

David looked at me, smiled, nodded, then pushed back and headed to the dance floor with Mr. Speedo. Obvious that Larry was flirting with Dave, but Dave just kept smiling and dancing.

Earth, Wind, and Fire's “September” came on, and everyone in the bar crowded onto the dance floor. One of our volleyball buddies grabbed my hand, I downed the drink, and headed out to the floor with him. This is a first—dancing with a guy?

The floor was packed, everyone having fun. Looked over at David, he's smiling and laughing, having fun like everyone else. Larry was right next to him—no room on the floor to spread out at all.

The DJ seamlessly transitioned into “Disco Inferno”, the dancing got more frantic, most guys peeling off their shirts. All of our group had packed the shirts in the back of their shorts, and were dancing like crazy. When in Rome......so I took off my shirt too. Everyone having fun, surprisingly me, too.

I'd lost sight of Dave and Larry—the floor that crowded—and my dance partner leaned in. “Looks like you're having fun, and you're a damn good dancer.”

Just grinned back, “Yeah, I am having fun! And you've got some nice moves yourself.” Been a while since I've danced at all, and was feeling remarkably relaxed about it all. Maybe the couple of scotches since I've been here have kicked in.

Chaka Khan's “I'm Every Woman” fades in and the crowd is fired up—everyone dancing hard, sweating, bodies pushed together, definitely a current of both physical and sexual energy. And after a couple of bars into the song, I look around and spot Dave and Larry.

It looks like they're having sex on the dance floor. Larry's butt is packed against Dave's crotch, both shirtless, Larry's head thrown back and around onto Dave's shoulder, saying something in his ear. Dave suddenly grins big at something he's saying, and Larry stretches further back to kiss him.

I have no clue what I'm feeling inside—but it's strong, and protective. Maybe it is jealousy. But there's also a sexual component, because it's sexual as hell watching 'em and I'm chubbing up.

My dance partner leans in, grabs me by the shoulders, speaks in my ear, “Wouldn't mind doing a little private dancing with you later.” And promptly kisses me while his hand runs down my bare back to grab my ass.

Surprised, I pull away, try to smile, and gave a non-committal, “We'll see”.

Glancing around to see who saw that—I'm a little embarrassed by his display—notice Dave looking at me, strange look on his face, intense look in his eyes. Haven't see that look before.

The song ends, everyone gets fresh drinks, and we all head out to the patio to cool down, struggling to pull t-shirts down over our sweaty bodies. Most of the group heads down to the beach, walking away in pairs or trios. Jonathan and Greg are the last to leave, with just Dave and me still on the deck.

“Looked like you were having fun back there with your buddy. Do I need to find another spot to sleep tonite and give you and your buddy some privacy?” Dave's face shows no emotion.

I immediately shot back. “I was about to ask you the same thing—is that a pistol in your pocket,” nodding toward his crotch, “ or are ya just glad to be almost fucking on the dance floor?”. And it came out far harsher than I thought—really was trying to make a joke, but it fell flat.

“Yeah, that is a pistol. See?” And with that, Dave looked around to make sure no one noticed, pulled up the bottom of his t-shirt, reached into the waistband of his cargo shorts, and pulled up a few inches of the small 9mm pistol I'd seen on the nightstand earlier. “Yeah, the dancing was fun, but I've got a job to do—taking care of you.”

And with that, I both lost the relaxed mood I was in, and felt embarrassed. How can I possibly feel funny about Dave and innocent flirting on the dance floor, when he's on the clock nonstop for me?

Awkward silence. Didn't know exactly what to say.

Finally, “I'm sorry, Dave. I was out of line. You've got your life to live, and it's not up to me to say how ya live it. Just, like I've said, you're all I've got right now, and guess I'm not dealing with it well—I've never had to be dependent on anyone else before. And don't know how I view Larry and you, but it really shouldn't be any of my business.”

Dave's face softened, and he smiled. “I understand, Barry, and I'm sorry, too. I was giving you a hard time over that guy, and that's unfair. You've got your life, too, and guess I'm just being overly protective or something. Maybe even jealous myself.”

We looked at each other, smiled small smiles, maybe both a little red-faced.

“Guess I need to realize you're a part of my life now, and will be for a while. I promise I'll try not to be so needy.” Hoped my apology was enough to help us get back to the relaxed friendship we'd been building.

“And I'll promise to try to let ya lead your own life as much as possible—and keep that ugly green monster out of the way.” Dave grinned with his recognition of his interest in me, and his jealousy.

And with that, we were back to normal—well, as normal as we could be at the moment. The timing was perfect, as the guys all headed back in for more drinks from the beach.

We all danced a few more dances that night, with Dave asking me to dance before we headed back to the bed and breakfast. There was a song playing as we got to the dance floor, but it faded out, replaced by Whitney Houston's “Saving All My Love for You”. Dave pulled me close, arms around my back at my waist, my forearms on his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck.

“Glad we got our first fight out of the way.” Dave grinned big. “I'm sorry.” And with that, he leaned in and kissed me on the neck.

“I'm sorry, too, but you do know I appreciate your taking care of me, right? I guess I do care for you maybe more than I'd like to admit.”

And with that, I leaned in and up slightly—and kissed my lawman. Even had a little tongue. And it was great. And I'm not hiding behind the scotches I've had, either. Don't know what that feeling is, but it felt good—natural.

“Let's get out of here, Dave. Been a long day.” Dave grabbed my hand, pulled me off the floor, and after saying goodbyes to the group, Jonathan, Greg, Dave, and I headed out.

That night, again with the lights out, David reached out and again squeezed my hand on the mattress between us, just like he'd done every night since we'd been here.

“Not enough, Dave.” And with that I moved his arm up toward the head of the bed, scooted over, and used his shoulder as a pillow, his arm moving protectively behind me.

Yeah, I slept like a baby.