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Clay had been over to the Padilla residence many, many times.
He had been invited to dinner, to be an extra pair of hands when Tony’s dad needed to fix up Tony’s car, to help his brothers move some of his stuff into his new home after he married, helping his mother cook the family meal while Tony was busy with his dad, or even just to hang out, spend time with his boyfriend. He knew the family well, they had welcomed him in with open arms, making him feel completely comfortable around them.
He had not yet, however, been invited to one of their BBQs, and by extent, he had not been invited to any dancing. Being a Puerto Rican family, every single person there was dancing, completely unrehearsed, everyone moving in beautiful, flawless movements to the music.
The BBQ was on a warm, summer night. The front garden of the Padilla home had been transformed; every tree light up with fairy lights, strings of colourful lanterns running from branch to branch. Flowers were everywhere and all the garden furniture had been arranged on the grass, the street forming a dancefloor which nearly every member of the family were on. Loud, Spanish music played from some speakers from Tony’s DJ set up, the air filed with its upbeat sounds.
Half the neighbourhood was here too, most families on the street either related to the Padilla’s or simply friends who were Spanish too, coming along for a hearty night of eating, drinking and dancing.
Clay stood by the table laden with more food than he had ever seen in his life, every family bringing something with them. The children of the families were running around, playing, some mothers sat watching the dancing, fussing over the children every now and then. The party had a real community feel to it; everyone so happy to see each other, everyone greeting him with a hug and kisses on the cheek. It was unlike his own family, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had kissed his mother or got a hug from his dad.
He held a beer, taking small sips every so often and watched Tony’s brothers dancing with their wives, spinning and moving together as easy as they breathed. A small part of him wanted to be able to do that, move so sure of himself, so confident and smooth. The steps looked complicated but they all made it look so easy. Even Tony’s parent were up, twirling each other under their arms, big smiles on their faces like everyone else.
His eyes strayed to where Tony was dancing with one of his sisters in law. He had a huge grin on his face, her hand in one of his as she danced, her hips swinging back and forth, his knees bending as he danced with her, calling out to her in Spanish, moving with her perfectly as she spun him under her hand, their hands never disconnecting and they twirled together.
Clay’s eyes were fixated on his boyfriend’s hips, watching them roll and shake, his feet moving in perfect synch with the upbeat music.
Tony was a really, really good dancer.
Clay finished his beer, tearing his gaze away from Tony’s swinging hips and grabbing another, helping himself to some more chips and salsa as he did. Soon enough, he felt a presence join him.
“Come dance with me, hermoso.”
Clay’s chest swelled at the nickname, Tony having recently found out how much Clay enjoyed them now grabbed every opportunity to call him them. Not that Clay was complaining. He popped another chip in his mouth and sipped at his beer, turning to his boyfriend who was all rosy cheeks and big smiles, the exercise of dancing making him glow in the soft, evening light.
“Oh haha, very funny, Tony, you know I can’t dance for shit.”
Tony chuckled, taking a swig of Clay’s beer and standing with him to watch his family twirling away. He slipped an arm around Clay’s waist, holding him to him, kissing his temple and smiling at him.
“Come on, Clay, I’ll teach you.”
Clay really wanted to say yes. God, why did he have to be cursed with zero rhythm whatsoever? He wished he could dance like Tony did, wished he could share that with him but he just knew if he even attempted it, his entire family would be going home with broken toes after having Clay stumbling all over them.
“No, Tony, really, I’ll just embarrass myself, you’re all so good at it.”
“Clay, I’m Puerto Rican, dancing is in my blood.”
“Well it’s not in mine, I’m the whitest white boy to ever white.”
Tony laughed loudly at that melting Clay a little who smiled back in return, he loved Tony’s laugh. He didn’t do it often, usually just gave a chuckle or a smirk and occasionally a small giggle. But when he found something funny his eyes would crinkle and he would give out a light heartfull, uplifting laugh that Clay loved the sound of and prided himself on hearing any time he could.
“Come on, Clay, please, you’re one of the family, dance with me.”
God why did he have to use those big, brown, puppy eyes on him? The asshole knew fine well he couldn’t resist that.
“Tony -”
“Look, just follow my lead,” he said, taking the beer from his hand, putting it down on the table and pulled him towards the street, “just listen to the music and you’ll be fine. And if you don’t enjoy it, just tell me and we’ll stop, okay? You’re never going to know until you try.”
Again, he made it sound so easy, but Clay was one of the clumsiest people ever to live. This was going to be a massacre.
Tony twirled him under his arm, catching him right before he stumbled and pulled him in close. Clay blushed and looked about him awkwardly, casting a sideways glance to Tony’s parents to see what they thought of this.
They smiled back at him reassuringly, his mother actually looking like she was going to burst with pride, nodding to him in encouragement.
Great, so now they are watching.
“Just move with me, babe,” Tony murmured in his ear, and then they were moving.
It wasn’t so bad, actually. After a few stumbles at the start, Tony had held him closer, pressing his left hip into Clay’s, one leg between both of his and held their chests flush. His hand gripped his strong, warm, his other holding his back firmly against him. It was easy to move with him like this; their bodies pressed so close together that when Tony moved his limbs automatically went with him. When his leg went back, his went forwards, when he pushed his hip into him it meant he was supposed to twirl. When his hand pulled him close it meant for him to follow. He was getting the hang of it.
“Don’t look down,” he told Clay when he tried to peer down their bodies to watch his feet.
“Just look at me,” his voice was soft, breathed gently into the small space between them.
He was smiling as he stepped and Clay realised in complete shock that he was following his lead, stepping with him without stepping on him, without even looking at what he was doing.
Clay lost attention to everyone dancing around them, stopped caring what they thought, whether he was doing it wrong or not. Tony’s smiling face, his arms around him, the pride he saw shining in his eyes was all he needed. He was so glad he had convinced him to try this, he felt closer to Tony than he ever had before, sharing something so close to his heart, something that was in his blood, rooted deep in his family, and Clay was so happy that he could be a part of that.
The song changed into something a bit more upbeat, people danced around them but he held Tony’s gaze, concentrating on feeling where Tony was leading him.
Tony picked up the pace a little, rolling his hips against Clay’s and oh, that was interesting.
Clay bit back a moan when Tony moved their hips closer, rolling into him again, sending shivers all up and down his spine.
“Tony, this is dirty!” he hissed, trying to move away from those damn hips and Tony’s sensual movements.
His boyfriend laughed again, “this is salsa, mi vida, salsa is meant to be sexy.”
“But your mother is watching!”
There was that laugh again, was Tony trying to kill him?
“Don’t worry about that, Clay, she’ll be happy you’re dancing with me, it takes a lot of guts for a white boy like you to step up with us, and you’re doing pretty damn well. She will be proud of you.”
Clay blushed at the compliment, dropping his head onto Tony’s shoulder and feeling him chuckle, pulling him closer.
“I like you dancing with me,” Tony purred in his ear.
Clay rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, “shut up.”
“Mmm, I’m serious, it’s sexy.”
Him? Sexy?
“How much beer have you had?”
“Only one, and I am telling you the truth, Clay, have some more confidence in yourself.”
Jeeze, how many times had Tony told him that?
It was true though, and since being with Tony, Clay had grown way more confident. Tony gave him courage for a lot of things, he made him so stuff he never would have dreamed like climbing a vertical rock, dance salsa with his family, hold his hand walking down the school corridor. He was forever grateful for him. He made him a better person, and he made him happy, happier than he ever thought he could be.
“I love you, you know,” he told him softly.
Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise but smiled at him, pulling him closer and kissing him once, softly, “I know, I love you too, mi vida.”
The music slowed a little and they swayed on the spot, finding a rhythm that Clay was more comfortable with. He allowed himself to enjoy this; ducking his head to press his forehead against Tony’s. He held him so sweetly, the hand on his back strong and steady, holding him against his strong body. The hand that held his was warm, a thumb tracing across his skin every so often. He was swaying his hips gently as he moved slowly to the music, singing along softly in Spanish in Clay’s ear.
God, Clay would never understand why he was so lucky to be here. Just one year ago, his life had been a mess. He had spent every day riddled with the guilt over Hannah. Tony had been there; they had got through it together. When the tapes came out, everything got a little easier. Bryce went to jail, Alex recovered slowly in hospital, Jess hung out with them more, healing slowly after time. Justin disappeared, and everyone else moved on.
He had worried that after the tapes, Tony would back off, not needing to be his babysitter anymore, he worried that the only reason he had paid so much attention to him then was the tapes. But a month or so after, Tony was still there, still giving him rides to and from school, still having movie nights with him, still fixing up his bike when he managed to break it, still helping him through all his bad.
Then one night, after climbing up to their cliff to watch the city lights, Tony had kissed him. Clay had initially freaked out, not sure how to feel, what to do. But then Tony was kissing him again and he was melting and be couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.
Now, Tony was his life. He was so stupidly happy with him and thanked whatever mystical being was out there, giving him this happiness. It had been a long, hard climb, but Clay knew that with Tony by his side, he could only go up from here.