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Oliver had expected there to be more traffic, but he ended up making his way to Connor’s with little to no problem. So he decided to stop by the little café down the street before making his way up to the apartment.
When he reached Connor’s the door, he could hear music coming from the inside. And Connor singing along, too.
“What?” he asked himself.
He stood at the door, laughing and trying hard not to drop the coffees in his hands.
After getting his bubbling laughter under control, he knocked gently with the back of his hand.
The singing stopped abruptly and the music was now playing softly in the background.
The door opened before him, a sweaty Connor leaning against his doorframe, with the usual smirk on his face.
“You’re early,” he commented, moving aside to let him in.
He shrugged.
“I thought it’d take me longer to get here, but I was obviously wrong.” He walked inside and Connor closed the door behind him. “Were you singing just now?”
“I-I was just cleaning a bit. That’s all,” he said, in a slightly embarrassed tone and scratching the back of his head.
Oliver’s face broke into a grin.
“Are you that kind of person who sings and dances around while tidying up the house?”
“What? No! Where did you get that idea?”
Oliver laughed as he watched the other man pick up his cleaning products and putting them away.
“You’re all wet – look at that shirt basically glued to your chest,” he pointed at it. “Besides, I could hear your singing from the hall.”
And he had obviously said the wrong thing by the way Connor turned to him with that lopsided smirk and raised eyebrow.
“You know you make me all wet, baby.”
He let out a loud laugh at that, Connor joining him soon after.
“That was so lame! And you were totally dancing to the music before I got here. Why won’t you admit it? Are you afraid it’ll take a piece away from that Connor Walsh persona and that it’ll make me think any less of you?”
Connor softened and walked closer. He took the coffee cups from Oliver’s hands and put them down on the coffee table.
He bit his lip when the music changed to a low, sexy tune, and looked at Oliver with those big brown eyes.
“Dance with me.”
“What? You’re all sweaty and gross.”
“You like me sweaty,” he said, removing Oliver’s jacket and throwing it over the back of the couch.
“I don’t think–”
“Yes, please. For once, don’t think,” Connor interrupted.
“Okay,” Oliver conceded.
And soon they were moving to that deep and captivating sound. Oliver was gradually letting go of the tension and it wasn’t long before he was dancing around loosely with his eyes closed.
That’s why he didn’t see Connor approach him and was startled when there were hands grabbing his hips and hot lips dragging up the side of his neck.
“Oh. Uh. Okay.”
Connor bit his neck and his hands moved from Oliver’s hips to his ass, drawing him closer.
“Yes. So very okay. Dirty dancing is so much more fun, Oliver.”
Oliver let out a moan when Connor grinded into him, and then grabbed the back of the other man’s neck on instinct.
“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” he murmured, eyes falling close again.
Connor kept undulating their bodies together, stealing a few passionate kisses on the way. A few moments later he pulled back and let out a small laugh against Oliver’s shoulder. Oliver turned his head a little to look at him.
“What?”
“Told you, you like me sweaty,” he whispered, thrusting against him to prove his point.
“And as I told you, you have a sex problem,” Oliver replied, thrusting back.
“This is not sex.”
“It seems to be leading to it, at the very least. Either that or a very cold shower really soon.”
The music ended and the spell broke. They pulled apart and Connor turned off the music, before turning back to Oliver, a devilish expression on his face.
“I haven’t cleaned my bathroom yet. What do you say we go make a bit of a mess there?”
“No cold showers?”
“Only the hottest shower ever.”