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Change of Pace

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Link barely remembers what happened last week. The only thing he could remember was the word blue. Was it in reference to him? Was it a code word at the club? The dark haired man couldn't be sure.

What he was sure of was to keep his thumb planted firmly in the mouth of his bottle if it wasn't pressed against his lips.

He also wasn't sure why he was back already. He probably should have just stayed away. He had his excuse. Someone had drugged him. Anyone else would take that excuse and run for the hills.

Yet here he was, with the bass pumping through his body, cool bottle pressed to his lips.

He kept his eyes peeled, but he couldn't see to find the tall dancer anywhere. He wasn't on the stage. The blond wasn't working any of the tables.

Link's heart sank, maybe he was in the back with someone else. Someone who wasn't as naïve as Link was. Someone who wasn't addicted as badly as he was to their weekly encounters.

Finishing his beer, he pushed the empty towards the bartender who took it off his hands with a friendly smile.

This was bizarre. At work he knew everyone's face and name. But here, in this club? He only knew faces. The one name he did know was a stage name.

Link leaned away from the bartop to scan the crowd again. "He ain't here," the bartender finally offered him.

"What?" The dark haired man looked towards the staff member.

"Wood. Ain't here. Took a day off," the guy pulled out a beer bottle before removing the cap with a churchkey.

Link groaned, he could have stayed at home! He could have spent the night cuddled in his bed. "Thanks man. I'll see you next week," Link slapped a tip down on the bar for the tender's time and slipped through the club.

The brisk night air chased the music from his blood and made him shiver as the humidity evaporated from his skin.

Link stuffed his hands in his pockets and started to trudge along the walk. He always took an Uber from the little convenience store up the road. He didn't know why he was being so discreet about his weekly visits to the club. Maybe it was just the shame from having to towel himself off every time.

"Hey stranger," the warm baritone made Link jump out of his skin.

The bespectacled man turned on his heel, spying the tall blond a few feet away. "Wha? What are you doing here? I thought you had the night off?"

Wood shrugged, "Just headed to the store up the road. Sorry I wasn't there sugar."

Wow, did Link's heart ever clench at that statement. "It's fine, I was also headed over there. You want some company?"

Everything on the internet told him that he should have ignored the dancer. Said that if you ran into a sex worker to just briefly acknowledge them and be on your way. But Wood had reached out to him first, and if he said no, Link would be on his merry little way.

"I'd love for you to tag along hon," the blond winked.

Link felt his heart flutter against his ribs as he fell into step with the tall man. Wood was wearing regular jeans and a nice tan coat to keep out the bite of the air. Link felt lightheaded with this sudden look into the man's personal life. As minor as it was.

As the men trawled the store, Link picked up a few little late night snacks for himself. Something he could have while waiting for his Uber. When he saw what Wood had come for he nearly fainted. The tall blond put down the lube and condoms like he was just buying everyday normal items.

Which maybe they were to Wood, and that was none of his business.

With both men's purchases all squared away, they stepped back into the evening air. Link's blush burning high in his cheeks at the thought that maybe the clerk thought they were together .

"So what are you gonna go do?" the blond leaned into the bespectacled man's personal space.

The warm puff of breath on his face made his skin tingle. He wanted so badly to reach out and touch him. "Probably go home and watch a movie," Link rubbed his free hand along his arm.

"Cute," the dancer purred.

"Ah," Link cleared his throat, "what are you going to do?"

Link should have bolted when that sinful little smile played across the blond's face. "Gonna do what I do every week sug'." The blond gripped the dark haired man's shoulder, tugging him closer to Wood's impossibly tall frame. "Gonna go home and touch myself while thinking of those beautiful blue eyes on me."

Whatever sound escaped from Link's throat was pathetic and needy, shapeless in how it punched out of him. "That's right hon. Gonna fuck my fist thinkin' 'bout you."

Link's lip trembled, "Please." His dick pressing painfully against its denim prison.

The blond just smiled before pressing up against Link, "Please what?"

"Wanna see, wanna touch, please," Link's snacks hit the pavement as he reached for the blond's jacket.

"Only if you promise me somethin'," Wood placed space between them, the cool air burning the dark haired man's face.

"What?" Link wanted to crumple and say that he would promise this man the moon if it allowed him to see and touch this beautiful man.

"I'll see you next week?"

Link wanted to cry, there was no way one time was going to give him the fix he needed of this man. "Of course."

"Alright Baby Blue, let's go."

Link was pretty sure he was in the middle of a fever dream. He was in the apartment of the stripper he saw every week, the tall man pressing him up against the wall and littering kisses along the column of his throat.

"Look at how hard you make me Blue." Link looked down between their bodies, the blond had already unfastened his own pants and had them shoved open. One of his large hands squeezing the base of his thick cock.

"Gosh," Link's voice was thick with want.

"Get me like this, every time. Can't do anything about it until I get home." The words burned through Link's throat where they pressed, watching as the tall man's hands slowly pumped his length.

Wood moved with a sinful purpose, long strokes, thumbing the head. Squeezing and spreading the slick along his shaft. Panting, the hot moist breaths being caught by Link's shirt.

"Fuck, c'mon man. Wanna see you come," Link gently reached a hand around the taller man's neck, pulling him closer.

The blond picked up the pace slightly, his hand sliding over the flushed skin of his dick. A broken moan was pressed into Link's shoulder as ropes of white spilled from Wood's glistening tip.

God it was all over his pants, but Link couldn't bring himself to care. He hardly cared about the mess he was making inside his own pants.

"Thank you, Wood."

The dancer smiled, "No, thank you Blue."