Wes’s response dodged Dustin’s invitation. Just back from a beer with Curly and Bacon’s crew. I feel you. People are exhausting. But your idea makes me wish I’d pounded back some shots.
Because you know you want to say yes. Dustin frowned down at his phone like the sheer force of wanting could make Wes agree. I did my research—it’s a fast walk over for me from here, but it’s tucked away. Minimal risk.
Maybe. There was a world of hope inside that reply, and some of the tension left Dustin’s back. He leaned against a convenient pillar.
Come on. Three quarters of the people here are getting epically laid tonight. Swear weddings make everyone crazy.
In reply, Wes sent him an emoticon bear with steam pouring out its ears. Poor baby. Bet you’ve been hit on a ton. So tough being hot as fuck.
Dustin’s skin heated with the compliment. Can’t wait to get out of this tux.
Tux? Wes added a salivating dog emoji. I might pay to see you strip out of that.
See. I know you want this. I want this. We need tonight. He couldn’t think beyond tonight, beyond one more encounter. He was raw after the weekend of wedding obligations, so unmoored and needy in a way that he hated. But Wes could make it all okay. Wes would know how to put him back together. We deserve this.
Wes took forever to answer. Not sure we should risk it, but hell, I’m grabbing shoes.
Fuck yeah. Give me about an hour to meet you there. Maybe less. He fist pumped to the empty hallway.
Ok. An hour. Leave the tux on for me.
A little thrill raced up Dustin’s spine. This was stupid and risky and exactly what he needed tonight.
* * *
This was a terrible idea, and Wes should have been firmer with Dustin, told him that he couldn’t meet him. Should have spoken up and said he was worried about getting caught. Should have encouraged Dustin to go home with one of the people hitting on him because there was no future in this thing with Wes, and if anyone deserved to be happy and not lonely, it was Dustin. But Wes was a selfish bastard, and he wanted to be the one relieving Dustin’s bad mood, wanted to rub the stress out of his shoulders, let him vent about the family stuff. Ogle him in his tux.
That last one made him speed up as he made his way to the downtown San Diego hotel Dustin had made a reservation at. He’d texted Wes a room number, and he opened the door before Wes even had a chance to knock.
“Fuck. What a day.” Dustin closed the door behind Wes, then pulled him into a tight embrace. The room was softly lit, casting shadows over the furnishings of the nondescript hotel room. It looked to be a step above Wes’s DC place—thick fluffy white bedding, single king-size bed with a padded headboard and plush carpet.
“You smell good. And look at you, all Thor at the Oscars. Dressing up suits you.” Wes wasn’t usually prone to flattery, but Dustin did look hot as hell in the tux—broad shoulders and bulging muscles under a well-fitting black coat and pants. And he smelled spicy, like he’d put on a new aftershave, one that had Wes’s mouth watering. He reached for Dustin’s bow tie, undoing it with a flick of his fingers.
“I stopped on the way over.” Pink stained Dustin’s cheeks.
“Oh?” Wes glanced at the mini-fridge area, wondering if Dustin had been lying about not being drunk.
“I...uh...didn’t know what you’d bring... You know.” Dustin was nearly crimson by this point, not meeting Wes’s eyes.
“You bought rope?” Wes was totally having fun with this. He had a feeling now what the purchase actually was and his stomach trembled, like flat-out shook, whether in fear or anticipation or both he couldn’t say. Maybe he was the one who needed a drink.
“Not that.” Dustin pulled at his ear. His head jerked in the direction of the bed. “Stuff.”
“Maybe you should show me.” Seeing the bigger man all rattled like this did a good job calming his own nerves, and he tugged Dustin down the short hall connecting the entryway and bathroom with the main room.
As he’d expected, on the bed was a brown paper bag on its side, the top of a lube bottle peeking out. Even so, he raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” Dustin’s face wasn’t any less pink, even in the lower lighting in the bedroom. “You keep threatening, but not delivering...”
“Oh we can’t have that.” Wes reached for him, pushing his suit coat off, trying to calm his own galloping pulse. “And can’t have you all dressed up for it either. Strip.”
“You want a show?” Dustin released a nervous chuckle.
“Yup.” Nothing like a bit of control to settle Wes down. He went to sit on the edge of the bed, right next to the bag. “Slowly now.”