Song and Dance - 2. Chapter 2 All Shook Up

Song and Dance

Chapter 2

Arron was shaken. What had just happened? He was still sitting in the parking lot after Chet had driven away. This was new. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard like this. These feelings had been closed off since Dwayne had left… left wasn’t accurate. Arron had thrown him out. Three days he had given him; three days to remove all the evidence showing they had spent three years together. Their anniversary had come and gone during those three long days. The bitterness of crushed dreams of forever permeated the hotel room he had holed up in while Dwayne obliterated his presence from their home.

As far as he knew they were still together, his ex-partner and his ex-one-time best friend. The shock of it; finding them fucking on his brand new, buttery soft leather couch, his anniversary gift to himself, still haunted his days, whether sleeping or awake. He had learned a lesson that day. Two, actually. Men were pigs, and risking his heart no longer had any appeal. Okay, so he finally got over the ‘men were pigs’ lesson, as the bitterness retreated to a more manageable size. Risking his heart though, still had little attraction for him.

Those green eyes were a serious threat. What shade was that, anyway? Emerald? No, not emerald. He knew that color though… he was sure it was a shade of green he saw it all the time, somewhere. Green, green, green… he had it! He could picture the vibrant leaves of the geranium plants he overwintered on his sunny windowsills every year, until they returned to their summer home on the veranda. Damn. He was thinking about the color of a man’s eyes; someone he had just met. Was that so bad? Wasn’t it time to let go of the past and start to trust again. Two years was long enough. He could do this; he was ready.

He hoped Chet wasn’t just looking to get laid, though. With his looks, that wouldn’t be a problem for him, and maybe that’s all he was looking for, but the handful of times Arron had hooked-up since Dwayne, had made it clear it wasn’t for him. When he found himself subtly flirting with Chet, it had surprised him. Arron knew the effect he sometimes had on other men, and that effect was evident in the way Chet had looked at him. It thrilled him that he caused a man as handsome as Chet to completely lose his focus, and he had felt confident and connected and oh so sure that dinner was a good idea. Now, he found he was a bundle of nerves. He had his phone number, so he could call and cancel, but that would be a cowardly thing to do, wouldn't it? He wasn’t afraid of having a date, not really. No, he was afraid of the strength of what he had felt in Chet’s presence, that overpowering need that had coursed through him, the one that said he had to be near this guy.

Sighing at the state he had let himself get into, he reversed his cruiser and pulled out onto the roadway, startled by the blare of a horn. What the hell? He had just cut somebody off! This was so not like him. He admonished himself and settled down, forcing himself to concentrate. He had a job to do and that was something he took great pride in, whether it was traffic detail, or neighborhood patrols and response. One thing he had accomplished was his decision there would be no cancelling of this date. For whatever reason, he had to be in Chet’s presence again even if just to find out what he was about. Fuck, the guy was easy on the eyes, and from what he saw when he stood outside his Jeep, built like a streamlined tank. The position that mental picture caused his dick to take in his tight pants was quite painful, and demanded immediate readjustment. Goddammit, it had been a while… too fucking long.

Four o’clock found him rushing from work, straight to the Spectrum. He paid Sandy for a day pass, and proceeded to give himself a fast blistering workout, benefiting his brain as much as his body. He hadn’t felt like this in such a long time… maybe even ever. He was excited, nervous, eager, and fucking horny as hell. He felt more like eighteen than almost twenty-eight. Calm down, he told himself over and over. It’s just dinner with a guy you don’t even know. Of course, if he was a friend of Michael and Kendall’s, he must be a solid guy. They wouldn’t waste their time with someone who wasn’t. And he couldn’t imagine a hotter guy. He wanted to suck on that chin dimple, and feel that strong neck column in his hands as he stuck his tongue down… fuck! What the hell was he doing? This was ridiculous; he was getting way too carried away over this guy. Good God! He was boning up in his gym shorts. Forcing himself to concentrate, he finished up his workout and headed into the locker room to change, skipping the shower, not trusting himself to be able to control his suddenly unruly dick.

Fifteen minutes later, he was standing in front of his closet, looking at his clothes in dismay. He had no idea what to wear. He'd told Chet he would wear a polo shirt, but what color? There were too many fucking colors. Midnight blue? No, too somber. Yellow? Nope. It was winter, you idiot. Silvery gray? Maybe. Or black? No… the gray… the three black buttons and black bands edging the short sleeves would look good. Jeans. Black or gray? Black, for sure. The dressy, shiny ones or the normal jeans? Damn. Okay, dressy, shiny ones. You know your ass looks good in those. Underwear? Easy. Black boxer briefs with the silver waistband, just in case. Arron, you are fucking hopeless.

He had to take his time shaving. He was way too excited and he didn’t want to show up at the restaurant with nicks or slices on his face. Mission accomplished, he looked down past the erection that had supervised his shave, trying to decide whether he had time to man-scape. A quick appraisal told him he was acceptable as is, not that he had any intention of getting naked. Still, being prepared was a cop’s motto too. Next came flossing, brushing his teeth and a thorough brushing of his tongue. A good rinse-out of the toothpaste and he was ready for the shower. A quick glance at the clock told him he was good for time.

Stepping into the hot shower was the soothing balm he needed to calm himself down mentally. His brain slowed down from its frantic earlier pace, and he allowed himself to float on a cloud of caressing steam. He let his mind wander slowly over the remembered masculine face with the geranium leaf-colored eyes and he was filled with an undeniable surge of hope. It was something he hadn’t allowed himself for a long time, but he wasn’t going to question its intrusion this time. He was tired of pushing it down and away. He would allow hope to hang around for now, and accept the consequences it might entail.

The last time he had given hope its head, it had dwindled after a few dates, when it became apparent there was no match there. It turned out the other guy preferred an open relationship. That may happen again, but he couldn’t deprive himself of the chance, not with a guy who made him feel the way Chet did. Letting himself go, he took care of one last thing. Gripping the hardness the images of Chet had caused, he gave in to the physical demand his body was making. He would never get through the evening if he didn’t do this. Stroking the thick, soapy length of his cock slowly and steadily, he pictured the brown-haired man with the strong-looking hands and the glimpse of chest hair peeking over his shirt collar. It didn’t take long for Arron’s widened legs to tense up and his heavy-feeling balls to pull upward from the need for release. The sensations were exquisite every time his hand met and rubbed the flare of his cockhead as he toyed with the simmering promise of eruption. He could have lasted a little longer, but the pleasure had reached a level of intensity that made him want to blast past the edge. So he did, and it was by far his best orgasm in recent memory. Without being anywhere near him, Chet had filled him up to overflowing and the proof was now making its way down the shower walls, allowing Arron to return to a steady calm once again.

With one last look in the mirror, he checked his lightly-gelled hair, the shining blackness of it enhanced, and smiled at the eager face he saw there. It had been ages since he’d been on a date, and his gut told him this one was special. “Wish me luck,” he said aloud.

Arriving five minutes early, there was a churn in his stomach when he couldn’t spot the white Jeep anywhere. Pulling his silver Highlander up near the restaurant entrance, he turned off the big vehicle and waited. At five minutes after six, with still no Chet, Arron’s eagerness and hope had begun to deflate. This was not a good sign. Resigned to being stood up, he restarted his vehicle and considered whether he should wait a few more minutes.

Ten minutes later, amidst the burn of disappointment, he gave up hope, and pulled out to leave. He wasn’t going to give Chet the satisfaction of calling him, as much as he wanted to know what happened. Dammit, it hurt! Did he react too quickly? Were his trust issues taking control here? He had to pull over into the next little plaza beside the restaurant and get out to breathe. Standing outside his Toyota, he leaned on the window, just taking in the cold night air. He saw his phone light up on the front seat, and knew it had to be Chet. He didn’t really want to know what his excuse was, so he made the decision to ignore it. As soon as the phone’s light went out he regretted not answering it. Dammit. His emotions were all over the place. Was he being a drama queen? Even in the freezing cold, his eyes were burning. He could still see the restaurant from where he stood and knew Chet hadn’t been calling from there. His phone lit up again, and this time, he was pissed enough to answer it. Reaching inside, he grabbed the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Arron?”

“Yeah, Chet, it’s Arron. What’s up?” His voice was cold.

“Hey, I don’t want to seem impatient, but where the heck are you?”

“What do you mean, where am I?”

“You were supposed to meet me here at six. I’ve been here since quarter to. Are you cancelling?”

“What are you talking about? I was at the restaurant and you weren’t there. I can still see it from here, and you aren’t there. Is this supposed to be funny, Chet?” There was a definite break in Arron’s voice.

“No, man, seriously… I am standing at the front doors right now. If you can see the restaurant, you should be able to see me.” Chet was sounding frustrated, as he questioned his supposed date. “If you’re cancelling, just say so, okay?”

Arron could hear hurt in that voice. “Chet, what restaurant are you at?”

“The one you told me about. The Italian place on Ellesmere, Angelinos… why?”

“Jesus, Chet, I said Pieterangelos, not Angelinos. That’s at Kennedy Road. Pieterangelos is at Morningside Ave. You’re fifteen minutes west of here.” The relief Arron felt was immense. He hadn’t been stood up at all, and Chet wasn’t just another jerk.

“Oh, crap, I am so sorry. I thought I knew where you meant. Fuck! My bad. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Are we still on?”

“Yeah, of course we’re still on, but take your time. You’re talking to a cop remember. If you get here too quick, I’ll give you a ticket for speeding. The restaurant isn’t busy, so there will be no problem with getting a table. I still have to drive back there, anyway.”

“You left?” Chet sounded a little upset at that.

“Yeah, but listen, Chet. I thought you stood me up. I’m just in the next plaza. It didn’t occur to me that you would be at a different restaurant. You know you’re never going to live that down, right?”

“Maybe, but I blame you anyway.”

“Okay, you’re right. I should have written it down for you. I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

“Next time, I’ll remember, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I meant, how am I supposed to concentrate when I’m looking into those gray eyes of yours? I was lucky I could find my way home.” And with that the phone went click. Something in Arron went click too.