Dance (17 page)

“Come
on, baby. Move,” Jared whispered. Fenix buried his face in the crook of Jared’s
neck and he could feel his wet, gasping breaths.

“I
need a second,” he rasped. “Fuck, Jared. You feel so good I’m afraid if I move
I’ll come. I’m close, baby. So close.”

“Me
too,” Jared replied and rolled his hips.

Fenix
pulled back, kissed Jared frantically, and then leaned back on his knees. He
grabbed Jared’s hips and started moving, his face taut with concentration.
Jared’s cock twitched at the sight of his lover – dark eyeliner around pale
blue eyes, high Scandinavian cheekbones flushed with heat, tousled blond hair
falling over his face, plump, wet lips...

“Fuck,
yes,” Jared yelled, fisting his cock and starting to jerk himself off. He stole
a look down Fenix’s body, and the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of
Jared did him in. His earth-shattering orgasm swept him away and for a few long
moments Jared couldn't see or hear or feel anything else but the blissful
pleasure spreading through his whole body.

He
felt Fenix shudder as he pulsed inside him, emptying himself as he rode out his
own orgasm. Jared managed to get himself together just in time to open his eyes
and witness his gorgeous boyfriend arching his back, and coming, his head
thrown back and his muscles flexing.

Fenix
flopped back on top of Jared and he could feel his heart beating frantically
against his own. He pulled out gingerly, and Jared felt a trail of slick come
drip down his thigh. He wrapped his arms around Fenix and buried his face in his
neck. They stayed like this for what seemed like hours, neither of them capable
to move or speak.

“You
were incredible,” Jared murmured when he felt like he could trust his vocal
cords again. He weaved his fingers in Fenix’s hair and tugged him towards his
lips for a gentle kiss.

“You
weren’t so bad yourself,” Fenix said, smirking.

“On
stage, you idiot,” Jared laughed.

“Thanks,”
Fenix said, almost shyly, and he kissed Jared again.

“And,
it turns out, I have a rock star fetish,” Jared added, unable to keep the smile
off his face.

“Does
that mean you’re going to pounce on me every night after the show?” Fenix asked,
arching an eyebrow in a challenge.

“Yeah.”

“Then
this job is worth it even if they weren’t paying me.”

“Baby,
you know I’d pounce on you no matter what you did for a living,” Jared said and
caressed Fenix’s cheek.

“Yeah,
but this was incredible,” Fenix said seriously. “I’ve never done it bare before.”

“I
can’t wait to feel you without anything between us, too,” Jared whispered
against Fenix’s skin, kissing it. Fenix shuddered, obviously liking the idea
himself.

Someone
pounded on the door and said something, but they didn't hear what. They kissed
and touched, caressing warm, sensitive skin, and whispered tender words to each
other. The banging stopped eventually and Fenix stood up, helping Jared off the
sofa and heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Chapter sixteen

Jared

The next eight
months passed so quickly that Jared felt as if his life had suddenly been fast
forwarded. There weren’t enough hours in the day, enough days in a month to do
everything he and Fenix wanted to do. They spent every moment together – in the
theatre, at home, out with friends, at night. Jared got anxious if Fenix had to
be away for longer than a few hours. He watched
Poison
every night backstage, accompanied Fenix to interviews and
photo shoots, even watched him rehearse and dance, sometimes for hours. Jared
would sit in the rehearsal room, work on his laptop, play a game on his phone
or even read a novel, but more often than not, he’d just watch Fenix move on
stage. He needed to be close to him even if each of them did their own thing.
Fenix would sometimes indulge Jared by singing a song for him, serenading him
from the stage, and Jared would be completely mesmerised by his boyfriend’s
talent.

Every
morning when Jared opened his eyes and saw Fenix sleeping quietly next to him,
a powerful wave of emotion slammed into his chest, momentarily suffocating him.
He couldn't contemplate that he was physically able to feel so much for another
person. The more time they spent together, the more Jared couldn't get enough
of him, of
them
. He wanted this for
the rest of his life, and he knew Fenix felt the same. Because he’d told him
one night, as he buried his face in Jared’s neck, trying to calm down after
particularly intense love making.

“I
want you, Jared.
Only you.
For the
rest of my life.
I want you to be the last
person
I’ll ever kiss, the last person I’ll let see all of me. Please tell me you want
that, too,” Fenix had whispered, and Jared had to swallow hard a few times
before he confirmed that yes, he wanted all of that too.

Jared
managed to cure Fenix of his aversion to supermarkets, and even taught him how
to cook. They both had to watch what they ate, especially Fenix, and Jared was
glad he could teach Fenix something valuable, like how to prepare fresh,
healthy meals himself.

That
new skill, and the fact that Fenix wanted to practice his newly found cooking
obsession, came in handy when the media started taking more than a healthy dose
of interest in them. Because of
Poison
’s
growing popularity, and Jared and Fenix’s relationship, the photographers
started jumping out of nowhere every time they set foot outside their flat.
Neither Jared nor Fenix minded the ever growing throng of fans waiting for them
at Queen Victoria’s back exit, asking for pictures and autographs – it was very
inspiring. Their hard work and dedication was touching other people so deeply
that they were willing to stand in all weather conditions, waiting for a
glimpse of them. They both spent close to an hour every night signing theatre
tickets, musical programmes, and taking photos with their fans.

But
the paparazzi were something else. They’d intrude on their down time, following
them as they walked down the street or went out for dinner. It was ridiculous –
who would care about that? Who would pay money to see a photo of Jared and
Fenix eating at Flagrante? Jared was pretty good at ignoring them, nodding
politely when they called his name, but other than that he kept his head down
and pretended they were not there. But Fenix... he had a very hard time
overlooking some of the things they shouted at them in order to squeeze out a
reaction, or crowded them, disregarding any personal space as their cameras
flashed in their faces.

Logically,
Fenix knew none of that mattered, and sooner rather than later they would leave
them alone. But Jared had seen how stressed Fenix would get after ploughing
through a mob of people to get inside their building. He’d seen the way his
hands shook and his eyes flashed angrily when he closed the door behind him.

Jared
knew one day a stupid paparazzo would cross the already thin line and Fenix
would flip out. He just hoped he’d be able to prevent it.

That
day came when they tried to sneak out through the back exit of Stage Academy
after watching a new musical. They were invited to the previews because the
producer was a friend of Jared’s from college and he wanted his feedback. It
was very low key – the previews were by invitation only and were not advertised
in the media. Nobody followed Jared and Fenix on their way to the theatre, but
when the show was over one of the ushers advised them to leave through the back
exit because some photographers were obviously waiting for them outside. How
they knew about that was a mystery to Jared.

Unfortunately,
some of the paparazzi were lurking at the back, too. Fenix had been feeling off
all day, worried that he was coming down with a cold, but Jared knew he was
stressed over a bad review of
Poison
in ART. The theatre critic that had written it, Arlen Nicholson, was very well
known and respected in their world, but he was also a narrow minded, old
fashioned, bitter, old asshole. Jared hated that bastard long before he’d
pegged Fenix as an ‘attention seeking, average dancer who does not belong on a
West End stage’. He’d described
Poison
as an over-praised rock concert relying on controversy to gather audience and
media attention, but lacking severely in any artistic value.

Both
Fenix and Jared knew that wasn’t true. They both also knew Arlen Nicholson
should have been stripped of his critic status a long time ago. He might have
been a greatly respected art journalist back in the day, but it was clear his
knowledge or taste didn't evolve as quickly as the musical theatre world.

Despite
that, his words hurt. Fenix was moody for days, but when he’d woken up this
morning and felt his throat getting uncomfortably
scratchy,
his mood had plummeted even more. Jared had hoped a night out to see a new show
would do them both good, especially if they managed to fly under the radar.

No
such luck.

One
asshole photographer started shouting quotes from Nicholson’s review and
actually had the nerve to ask Fenix to comment. Jared felt Fenix’s whole body
buzzing with anger beside him as they tried to walk past the photographers.
Fenix slowed his pace, glared at the photographer and stiffened, preparing for
an attack. Jared wasn't sure if it was going to be physical or verbal, but he
had only a second or two to do something. He put his arm in front of Fenix and
pushed him behind himself, shielding him from the flashes. Jared was so angry
he saw red, and he wanted nothing more than to beat the bastard to a pulp.

“Back
off and shut up before I kick your teeth in!” Jared snarled right in the man’s
face. His eyes widened as he paled, obviously realising Jared was not kidding.
The other cameras continued to click and flash around them, but Jared didn't
even attempt to give a fuck. All he wanted was to shield Fenix from all this.

Thankfully,
they got the message, and Jared and Fenix managed to walk alone the rest of the
way to their apartment. Fenix didn't say anything, but he didn’t pull his hand
away when Jared grabbed it either. They walked in silence until they reached
their street. It was quiet and deserted this late in the evening. There were a
few street lamps, but it was still very dark and eerie.

“You
shouldn't have done that,” Fenix said quietly as they walked towards their
building. “They’re going to print all kinds of shit about you tomorrow, blowing
this out of proportion...”

“Better
me than you,” Jared replied. Fenix suddenly stopped and tugged on their clasped
hands. It was starting to drizzle lightly, and when Jared turned to face him,
his hair was a damp mess, falling into his face. His eyes were colourless in
the dim light, but they were blazing with emotion.

“Don't
say that. You can’t do that, Jared. You can’t stick out your neck for me like
that. You know they’re vultures looking for the next sensational photo...”
Fenix’s skin was wet from the light rain and flushed as he spoke passionately.
Jared could not resist taking the small distance between them and kissing him.

He
tasted of rain and love.

Jared
took his time, kissing Fenix until he felt the anger and frustration leaking
out of him. He separated their lips, but didn't pull back, resting their
foreheads together.

“I
still had some control left. You would have hit him,” Jared stated, his voice
carrying no question. “That would have caused all kinds of trouble for you, and
I’m not having that.”

Fenix
sighed and nodded, silently agreeing with Jared. He did not lose his temper
easily, if ever, but when he did, it got really bad. Jared had witnessed an
epic fight between Fenix, Ned and Joy when, after rehearsing the same song and
routine for over an hour, Joy still couldn't do the move Fenix wanted of her,
and Ned still couldn't sing the note Fenix wanted him to. The director had left
the rehearsal room, resigned that he wouldn't convince Fenix that everything
was fine the way it was. Fenix’s obsession over perfection knew no boundaries,
however. He continued to torture Joy and Ned for another half hour before Ned finally
had enough and attempted to leave. Joy tried to follow, and Fenix had the
biggest meltdown Jared had ever witnessed.
Tired, overworked,
and unsatisfied with the results, let alone his ADHD kicking in at least forty
minutes ago, Fenix imploded before Jared’s eyes.
He screamed at his
friends, his hands balling into fists, his whole body shaking with anger, his
eyes blazing with fury.

Joy
and Ned were having none of it, screaming back at Fenix and giving as
good
as they got. Jared did not want to think what would
have happened if he hadn't been there to push them out the door and calm Fenix
down.

He
also didn't want to think what tomorrow’s headlines would have been if Fenix
had gotten hold of that photographer.
Or how good the man’s
bloody face would have looked on the front page of The Sun.

Jared
tugged on Fenix’s hand, leading him towards the entrance of their building. The
rain was starting to fall faster and the last thing Fenix needed right now was to
catch pneumonia.