Untitled 2

by Nix
(crimsonquills AT gmail DOT com)


Author's Notes: Written as comment fic for Cala Jane.


Mac looked up at the man standing at his shoulder and shook his head firmly. "No."

"Come on, Mac," Don wheedled. He was grinning, his eyes disappearing into a sea of crinkles. "Just one. It won't hurt a bit, I promise."

Mac smiled a little but stood fast. No matter how cute Don looked when he smiled like that. "I'm not dancing with you." He leaned back in his chair and curled his hand around his drink, doing his best to present a picture of a man settled in and not moving. "I'm here to enjoy the music and the company and have a drink, not to put myself on display."

Stella leaned over from her seat and bumped her shoulder against Mac's. "Loosen up," she said. "What's one dance going to hurt?"

"Maybe he doesn't know how," Danny broke in, grinning at Mac from across the table.

"That's not going to work on me," Mac said dryly. "Besides, this is a slow song. You don't really need to know how."

"You won't be on display," Don promised. He rested his hand on Mac's shoulder and slowly let his fingers drift over to stroke the back of his neck. "We aren't going to stand out in this crowd."

Mac turned his bottle around in his fingers and examined the dance floor. Don was right, really. This club catered to a mature and very mixed crowd. The music was jazz, the dance floor filled men and women his and Don's age, not teenagers and twenty-somethings, and both straight and same gender couples were more interested in each other than in the other dancers. Watching one pair of men swaying together, arms looped around each other's waist, and smiling as they murmured something to each other, Mac could feel his resolve waver.

Stella leaned in close. "There's something special about dancing with someone you love," she said quietly. "Being close like that, with no expectations..."

Mac hesitated for a moment, then looked up into Don's blatantly hopeful expression. Fingertips played over the sensitive skin on the back of Mac's neck--a tease, a little taste of closeness to entice Mac onto the dance floor. That was obvious, but it didn't mean it wasn't working. Sighing, Mac pushed his bottle of beer away and raised a cautionary finger when Don grinned in triumph. "One dance," Mac admonished.

"Promise," Don said, still smiling. He took Mac's hand as he stood and pulled him onto the dance floor and into his arms.

As he settled in close to Don, his hands resting lightly in the small of Don's back, Mac got the feeling that he just might forget where one song ended and the next began.

--End--