Page 78 of Reinventing Cato
“Oh God.”
“Nice,” a guy said as he passed, giving Vigge a long stare.
“Obviously he was thinking about me even though he was looking at you.” Cato elbowed him.
Vigge laughed.
“Three stars. Two to go.” Cato took Vigge’s hand and tugged him further into the club.
It was an assault on the senses, but in a good way. Cato only had to hear the heavy beat to want to dance. There was a long, curved bar and a large central dance area with plenty of seating around the edges with sofas and tables. And the lighting was brilliant. It was as if they were standing in a spaceship, rectangular blocks of colour above them switching from white to blue to red. Rays of light shot from side to side, meshing, splitting and rotating, all in time to the pulsing music.
Cato leaned up to put his mouth to Vigge’s ear. “I hope you can dance.”
“How hard can it be?”
Cato laughed and pulled him onto the crowded dance floor.
The moment Cato began to move, Vigge was mesmerised. He could do little more than stand and watch, though his cock was trying to do some dancing of its own. Catowasthe music, his body shifting in a sinuous rhythm that ifhe’dattempted, would have looked weird, but Cato was just graceful fluidity.
The lights washed the room and everyone in it with moving colours that shifted through an infinite variety of patterns and rhythms. Once Vigge had got over his minor freak-out when Cato offered the harness, now he had it on, he felt different. More confident and not as self-conscious as he’d expected. Most men were dancing bare-chested, arms in the air, gyrating to the loud, pounding music, sweat glistening on their bodies, and now he was wearing the leather, he felt…somehow as if he belonged.
“Okay?” Cato leaned in to ask.
Vigge nodded. Cato grabbed Vigge’s harness and pulled him close. They moved as one, arms meshed together, lips brushing, hips kissing, smiles blending. Each time their hips touched, Vigge’s cock pressed against his zip. Cato reached up to caress his face, then slid his hands down to Vigge’s backside and all Vigge could do was copy his moves.
At first, he was awkward, dancing as if his arms and legs were acting independently, then he caught the beat or maybe the beat caught him. He copied Cato, learned from those dancing around them until he made his moves his own. Pop, dance, remixes, mashups, R&B—anything was worth dancing to, anything that let their cocks brush together in that teasing way. Bumping, grinding, twisting, swaying—Vigge became lost in the music. Lost in Cato.
Vigge liked it best when they were plastered together, when they had their hands all over each other, his hand so far down the back of Cato’s trousers, he could feel the crack of his arse. The music was loud, the powerful beat throbbing from Vigge’s toes to the hairs on his head. Chest to chest, lips millimetres apart, they only had eyes for each other.
I missed out on this.Vigge felt a pang of sadness for opportunity lost followed by a rush of delight that he was able to have this at all.Oh God, Cato.He wished Cato had been in his life sooner. He’d do nothing else to risk losing him. No more backing off, no more mistakes.
When Cato finally pulled him off the dance floor to the bar, Vigge couldn’t have said whether they’d been dancing three hours or thirty minutes. He was hoarse from belting out the lyrics—those he knew. They were both hot and sweaty. Cato’s hair was stuck to his forehead.
“I’m desperate for a drink,” Cato said in his ear.
“What do you want?”
“Corona, please. I’d get them, but you’ll get served before me.”
“Why?”
Cato put his mouth to Vigge’s ear. “You’re the hottest guy in here.”
Not true, but it made Vigge smile. Though when the barman ignored others waiting to be served and came straight to Vigge with a smile, it gave his ego a boost.
They moved away from the bar with their bottles. There were no empty seats, so they found a patch of wall to stand against, and Vigge stood sideways so he could look at Cato.
“Why did you bring the harness for me to wear?” Vigge asked.
“I wondered how far you’d go. If you’d change out of the T-shirt. How brave you really were.” Cato rolled the bottle against his forehead.
“I’m fearless.”
Vigge watched a bead of water slide down the side of Cato’s face to his chin, and swallowed hard.
“Really?” Cato asked.
Vigge nodded.Uh oh.He wasn’t sure he liked that smile.
