An Unexpected Encounter

"Any time. I love putting assholes in their place." Jesse's fingers brushed lightly against his arm, nails trailing over his skin and causing goosebumps.

"Will you--" He paused, like he wasn't sure of the answer. "Will you dance with me?" He asked, rejection already brewing up in his blushing cheeks and fearful eyes. Alex paused, surprised. Odd request, that was certain.

"Hmm. Well, I don't dance. Mostly because, well, I can't dance for shit." He rubbed the back of his head, smiling genially. "But if you're brave enough to get within twenty miles of my two left feet and horrible rhythm, it's your funeral." He responded. Jesse's surprise mirrored Alex's own. He really couldn't dance, and he didn't know why he'd offered. But he wanted to wipe that embarrassed, broken look off of Jesse's face. If seeing him make a fool out of himself would help, he could do that. Besides, it wasn't like he knew anyone at the bar. Like a proper gentleman -- though he was never much of one -- Alex led Jesse to the dance floor, where the bodies were packed close together and the music was still unintelligible.

Jesse had seemed to shift back into his original, less pained self because he was smiling excitedly and bouncing around. Once they were just past the edge of the dance floor, Alex turned. And was surprised, immensely. Jesse didn't pause for a heartbeat, just spun into action, dancing more like Alex was a stripper pole and he was the topless dancer than him being any sort of partner. Alex stood there, frozen. There was way more grinding than he'd expected, and a lot of molesting as well. He could have sworn he felt Jesse's hands cup his package through the jeans for a split second before twirling around him, laughing and smiling. Alex swore this guy was more girl than man. And he didn't like how suddenly uncomfortable his jeans were.

Yes, Alex fucked a lot of women. A. Lot. It was one of those things that just happened naturally.