Private Dances

by BA Tortuga

He shrugged, heading for 45. “’Cause I didn’t want to be there. Because I’m tired of the game, maybe.”

  “I am sorry, caro, if I am making it worse.” Gen’s hand moved off his thigh.

  “Don’t, man. Please.” He was the King of Brain Fog, sure, but he loved having Gen right here in his back pocket. “It’s so good, having you close. I’m working my butt off.”

  “You are. I worry, caro. I can’t help it.” Shrugging, Gen reached for some kind of food, crunching as he munched.

  “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” He grabbed a burger and unwrapped it with one hand.

  “Sì. I know.” Gen got all quiet, the way he did when he was thinking. Thinking was overrated.

  Shit. And in the car, there wasn’t dick to do about it. “Two cents, darlin’.”

  “What?” Glancing over, Gen frowned. “What two cents?”

  “Oh. Right. It’s just a saying, I guess. It means I want to know what you’re thinking so hard on.”

  “The same things I always do, I suppose. I do not want to make things harder for you, caro. I want to be with you.” Smiling a little, Gen crunched into his food, making a surprised sound. “This is good.”

  “Well, then, you and me, we’re on the same page. I don’t want to fuck shit up for you either. Ever.” He found a smile, and this one felt good. “Junk food is proof God loves us.”

  “Yes.” Laughing harder, Gen sat back and relaxed, chowing down. “We’re ridiculous, you know?”

  “Darlin’, I waggle my cock at folks for money, and you’re worth a hundred of me without even trying. We’re meant to be ridiculous.”

  “Stop. That is not what I meant.” But Gen was laughing hard, all but choking on his food. “You come home with me every night. That is my pleasure.”

  “Of course I do. I don’t look at all those folks like I look at you.” Even if some of them looked at him near as hard as Gen did.

  “I know it. I am trying, caro, am I not?” Hell, Gen had even met Keno and taken them both out to supper, so yeah. He was trying.

  “You are.” He nodded, reached out over all the food and squeezed Gen’s hand. “Thank you, yeah?”

  Gen turned his hand over and brought it up to kiss it, a little greasy but still fine as frog hair. Then Gen licked his thumb, humming a little. “Whatever you had, I want one.”

  Dale hooted, tickled as a pig in shit. “Egg roll. They’re damn good.”

  “They are, if this is anything to go by.” Those bright eyes gleamed shockingly blue in the light of a passing car. “Of course, it could be that it is the taste of your skin that I like.”

  “Oh.” He blushed and grinned. “Now, you get me revved up in the car and I’ll be aching all the way to the coast.”

  “And how would that be bad, love? We could stop somewhere for a few minutes….”

  “Damn….” His prick went from gee-I’m-happy-to-be-alive to oh-hello-fuck-me-raw faster than the sports car went from zero to sixty.

  “You like that idea?” Gen was teasing him so bad. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gen spread those fancy pants legs and reach down to rub between them.

  “You’re an evil, evil man.” He was damned fond. Honestly. “I ought to get you up on stage with me.”

  “Oh, heavens no. We would get arrested. I would dance for you, though.” Yeah, Gen probably would. Sensual, wonderful man.

  “Yeah? I’d love to see that.” God knew dancing for Gen alone made him hard as nails.

  “Then I will do it for you. Do you think the guise of an Italian businessman will work for a costume?” The sound of Gen’s zipper coming down echoed through the little car.

  “Uh-huh. Love the way your ass looks in those slacks.” He swallowed hard, hand sliding over Gen’s hip.

  Gen took his hand and pressed it to that hot cock for a moment before letting him go to shift gears. “I think we need to stop someplace quiet.”

  “Uh-huh. Let me get out of town.” His own cock throbbed, aching in his pants. Someplace dark and quiet where he could lean over and suck that sweet cock in….

  “Please.”

  Man, that little car could move. Not too fast, because if he got pulled over with Gen’s cock hanging out, well, that would be hellacious bad.

  “I can smell you, darlin’. Makes me ache like nothing else.”

  “Does it? I can see you want me, love. I can feel it.” Gen’s arm was really swinging now, that hand working up and down like nobody’s business.

  “I do. I do, man.” He nodded, shifting in his seat. Christ, Gen made his mouth water. “I can’t think of you when I’m up there, ’cause it’ll make me hard, make me wish it was just you and me and the music.”

  “I always wish it was me and you, sweet. Much as I love to watch you work.” Those lean hips were rolling, Gen panting like a hot dog.

  “I want you, darlin’. So damn bad. Wanna see.” His prick was going to fight its way out of his jeans.

  “Find us a place, love… oh, caro. So close.” Shit yes, Gen was close. He could smell it.

  “Want to suck you. Want you in me. Christ, Gen. You’re so fucking hot.” He was going to cream his jeans.

  “Uhn.” Gen’s head snapped back against the headrest, and the smell of come permeated the little car, hot and musky.

  “Jesus. Jesus.” Dale groaned, hands squeezing the steering wheel. “You’re something else.”

  “Ti amo, caro. So much.” Lying back against the seat, Gen smiled over at him. “Pull over soon, and I shall use my mouth.”

  “Fuck-a-doodle-doo.” He tossed over a couple of napkins, shaking his head as his balls throbbed. “You’ll drive me mad, sure enough.”

  They were both chuckling as Gen mopped up and started shoving trash into bags. He got a couple jalapeño bites, the last onion ring dipped in ranch. “Okay. We’ve eaten. I’ll find a place to stop.”

  There was a rest stop up ahead, and Dale pointed to the sign. “That should do, huh?”

  “That will be perfect, caro.” One hand touched his leg, just barely, grazing along his jeans.

  “Cool.” He flipped his blinker on, heading for the exit sign, thinking about nothing but Gen’s mouth, Gen’s touch.

  He never saw the pickup that cut him off.

  Never saw anything but the brake lights right in front of him before everything went black.

  Chapter Ten

  THE PAIN woke him. It was not a sharp pain, like a broken bone or a punctured lung. No, this was the driving ache of sprained and bruised muscles and tendons. Gen had torn his ankle once. That had felt the same; his whole body felt that way now.

  When he blinked his eyes open, everything was white. Everything but the cheerful saltwater fish scrubs the nurse wore. Nurse.

  Dale.

  Gen grunted, trying to sit up.

  “Easy. Easy, honey. You sit tight a second, huh? You don’t want to tear your IV. How’s your head?” The woman patted his arm, effectively keeping him where he was on the bed.

  “There was another man. In the car with me. Can you tell me how he is?” He needed to know. He needed to, despite the burst of raw agony sitting up had caused.

  “I’m sorry, honey. He’s not on this floor. I’ll try to find out for you, though. Okay? Just let me check you out. What’s your name, honey?”

  “Genovese. Adriano Genovese. His name is Dale.” His arm itched, and he tried to scratch it but only got a handful of tube.

  “Careful. You need the hydration.” The nurse scribbled on a chart, closing it with a click. “Is there someone I can call for you?”

  “I need to know about Dale.” The rest could wait. His family would only fly in and make a mess.

  “Okay. I’m going to get a doctor in here to look at you, and I’ll hunt up your friend.” She left, taking that amazing outfit she was wearing with her.

  Gen struggled to find a comfortable position. He didn’t. If someone did not come soon, he would take his little wheelie pole and run.

  A tiny
little man came in, talking so fast that Gen could barely understand him, poking here and prodding there, shining lights in his eyes. Honestly, this was quite insane.

  “Please,” he finally said, flapping his hands. “My friend.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t….”

  The door opened again, that same nurse coming in. “Hey, honey. I wanted you to know. Your friend’s in surgery, but he’s going to be just fine.”

  “Surgery.” He sat up, his hand groping for something solid, trying to get out of the damnable bed. Dale was in surgery. Oh, God.

  “He’s going to be fine. He’s got some injuries, but he’s going to pull through. No worries.” No worries. How exactly did one not worry in a case like this?

  “What sorts of injuries?” His English threatened to fail him when the doctor prodded his abdomen, making him grunt and wince. “Stop it! Just stop it.”

  “Did that hurt badly?” The touch came again, the ache deep, but not excruciating.

  “Not as badly as I will hurt you if you touch me again. What is happening to Dale?” He flailed but fell back, panting.

  “He’s in surgery getting his leg repaired. He’s going to be right as rain, I promise.”

  His head felt like it hovered two feet over his body. “He’s not… it’s not. He still has his leg, sì?”

  “Yes, sir. It got broke pretty good, but it’s all there. They’ll patch him up, make him good as new. I swear.”

  The doctor pushed past the nurse, shot something into his IV. “Just a relaxant. It’ll ease the soreness.”

  It did more than ease the soreness. It began to work rather quickly, making him feel slow and heavy-eyed. “Please tell me when he comes out of surgery.” His natural tact began to reassert himself. “I am sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “You were very lucky. You have some scrapes, some contusions, but you didn’t break a bone.” The doctor nodded, looking like a toy somehow.

  “Oh. Good.” He drifted then, completely unconcerned with his own health. He simply needed to find Dale.

  JESUS FUCKING Christ he hurt.

  Dale shifted, swallowed hard against this amazing dryness in his throat. Okay. Okay, he was….

  Uh.

  Okay.

  He’d been to Jack in the Box.

  They were going to the beach.

  He.

  Uh.

  Okay.

  Dale swallowed again, moaning. Thinking.

  Thinking was good.

  “Well, hello there, honey. Welcome back. I bet you’d like some water.” That nurse had some big-assed hair.

  “Yes. Please. Gen? Is he okay?” A straw was put to his lips, cold water pouring into his mouth.

  “I’m not sure who Gen is, honey.” She pulled away the water and swabbed his lips with some kind of sponge. “Are you hurting?”

  “Uh-huh.” His leg felt like it was on fire, his toes burning. “Where am I, honey?”

  “You’re in the hospital. You were in a car wreck. Do you remember?”

  “No. I mean, I remember Jack in the Box and Gen liking the egg rolls….” His heart started pounding like nothing he’d ever felt. “He didn’t die, did he? You gotta tell me.”

  “You have to calm down. I’ll see about your friend.”

  Her butt looked like… well. A rhinoceros. Not because it was wide, but because it had a rhino printed on it.

  Man, some fabric designer had a mean-assed sense of humor. Really.

  He found himself dozing, floating in and out of pain and confusion and a crushing worry that wouldn’t go away.

  She was gone and gone, and he thought maybe she’d forgotten about him, but he couldn’t reach the call button. Finally the little curtain opened again, but it wasn’t a nurse. It was Gen, wearing a terrible hospital gown, and wheeling some little stand.

  “Gen.” He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and then opened them again.

  Oh, fuck him. Gen was real.

  Gen smiled, coming close. “Oh, caro. There you are. I’ve been searching.”

  “Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Can you remember anything?” The words poured out of him in a rush, his hand shaking badly as he reached.

  “I’m badly bruised, I suppose. And stitched.” Gen grinned a little, lopsided as all get-out. “They want to keep me a few days.”

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what he’d done, but he’d been driving and….

  Oh, God.

  “Did I total your car?”

  “Oh. You know, I have no idea, caro.” As if unsure if he was real, Gen reached out with the arm not hooked to a contraption, touching.

  “I’m sorry.” Dale tried to move toward the touch, his leg screaming. Jesus, what had he done?

  “No. No, caro. You did nothing wrong. He came out of nowhere.” Gen sort of creaked, slipping down next to him so one hip rested on the bed. “I’m trying to get us a more private room. Together.”

  “Can you do…?” Oh, God. He was in a hospital. He didn’t have even a bit of insurance. “They won’t do that for me, darlin’.”

  Gen’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “They will for me.”

  “Am…. Do you know what happened?” He wasn’t going to ask if he was hurt bad, but he wanted to know.

  “They said you broke your leg, tesoro. They had to do surgery, but they said you would be fine.” Gen stroked his cheek, staring at him like he was the second coming.

  “Yeah?” Relief crashed over him in a wave. Oh, God. He could’ve…. Damn.

  “Sì. You’ll be fine, caro. Just rest.” Gen was looking kinda green around the gills too, like he might fall over.

  “Come on, darlin’. Lay down here, you’re gonna keel over.” He did his best to scoot over, the little bit of motion leaving him sweating with the effort.

  “Don’t hurt yourself.” But Gen eased all the way down, nuzzling in as best he could through all of their tubes and shit. “Oh. Better. Even with the drugs, I haven’t slept well.”

  “How… how long has it been?” He petted Gen’s belly, careful as he could.

  “Two days. Two agonizing days, caro. They wouldn’t let me out of bed.” One shaky hand traced his arm.

  “Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” What good that was, Dale didn’t know, but his daddy always said if you were lost, fake it ’til you figured it out.

  “Sì. Sì. I was so worried….”

  Poor Gen sounded as wonky as he felt. “Yeah. Sleep a little, huh? I. We’ll figure it.” They would.

  Really.

  Later.

  GEN SIGHED, running his hand through his hair. Poor Dale was still hurting, and the doctors wanted to release him in the morning. Gen had been released the day before, but he had gotten Dale a private room so he could stay in with his lover.

  “Are you certain he is able to go?” Gen asked, worried about the poor leg.

  “He’ll need to see a doctor to deal with the stitches, and he’ll need at least eight weeks of physical therapy, but beyond that, he just needs rest.” The little orthopedic surgeon patted his arm, bald head nodding.

  Gen sighed again. Time to make some calls. “Very well. You will recommend a place for the therapy?”

  “He doesn’t have insurance, so he can choose. I’d recommend Pete Ellerson or Kim Walker. Both of them are solid. Dedicated.”

  “Will you have someone write that down for me?” He wanted to get back in there and see Dale.

  “Of course, sir. There will be a packet for you during checkout. He said you’ll be helping to care for him for the next while, yes?”

  “Sì. I will help. No problem. Thank you.” He shook the little man’s hand and went into Dale’s room, a smile breaking out despite Dale’s pained appearance. “Ciao, caro.”

  “Hey, darlin’.” Dale sat up, shifting in the bed. “Is it time to go home yet?”

  “Tomorrow morning they will release you.” Gen sat gingerly, patting Dale’s arm. They both moved like old men still, but he knew they were on the mend. />
  “What’s the difference between tonight or tomorrow? Did someone from the club bring my truck so I can drive home?” The longer they stayed here, the more the hard edges of worry showed in Dale’s face.

  “Caro, I have a car. And a driver. We’ll get home and then get your truck.” As if he would let Dale drive with that leg.

  “I just…. I’ve fucked up your car. I got you hurt.” Dale met his eyes, squeezed his fingers.

  “Oh, love. You haven’t done anything wrong.” He laced his fingers with Dale’s, smiling and bending to kiss that sweet mouth.

  Dale groaned and kissed him back, holding him close for a moment. They needed to be home, to settle in the big bed in his rooms. To rest without people disturbing them at all hours.

  His arms slid about Dale, gentle as could be, his lips on Dale’s cheek. “Caro….”

  “Yeah. Yeah, darlin’. I’m just. Fuck, I want out of here. I’m missing school, work. I want to be able to be done with this shit, go with you.”

  “Soon. One more night.” He wanted it too, worried as he was. He wanted to sleep again. God help him, he hadn’t in days.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I know. One more night. I gotta call the club, see if there’s something I can do.”

  Gen bit off the word quit, instead nodding and saying, “I’m sure they will understand.”

  “Yeah….” Dale didn’t sound too sure at all. “I can’t go back to dancing there. You know that, yeah? By the time my leg heals, I’ll be graduated.”

  “I know. School is most important.” When Dale got out of school, most of their problems would end. “You’ll have to study hard.”

  “I will. If—I’m going to try and see if they’ll let me be a bouncer. I could read and bounce.”

  “Oh.” No. That would not work at all. But they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

  Dale sighed, leaned into his arms, eyes falling closed. “You feel good, Gen.”

  “So do you. I miss you.” They leaned on one another, dozing, both of them still tiring so easily.

  The evil harridan nurse came in about the time Dale was truly asleep, heading to wake the poor man up, poke and prod and fuss.

  “Can you not let him sleep?” he asked, blinking at the light she directed at them. “He’s finally resting.”