Dance of Desire

"Are we in a relationship?"

"Yes, Cam. We are in a relationship."

"That's quite scary," Cam admitted.

"But does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No." Cam looked over at the easy chair. "You want to sit next to each other and hold hands?"

"No, I want to snuggle in together and hold hands. And don't forget my kiss."

Cam's smile grew now. "Okay," he nodded.

Frankie grinned and rose to his feet, pulling Cam up with him. Still grinning when he came back with the coffee (tea for Cam), and made Cam shift position until he could arrange himself how he wanted. Their hips side by side, but Frankie's legs draped over Cam's lap.

Frankie entwined his right arm with Cam's left and linked their fingers. Taking a sip of his coffee and then then sighing and leaning his head on Cam's shoulder. "See now, that's just exactly right."

Cam smiled and tipped his head to Frankie's. Rubbing his cheek on his cropped hair. "I have a question."

"Hit me."

Cam startled and looked with shock with Frankie.

"I mean. Hit me with your question. Lay it on me. Ask," Frankie clarified with a grin.

"I hate English," Cam complained, and Frankie sniggered.

"If your heart has been turning to dust, with pining for me. Why did you choreograph the dance so our hands are never off each other?"

Frankie snorted. "Figured it was my only chance to get your hands on me," he grinned. "Honestly, I've always thought you were straight, and a little homophobic."

Cam shook his head. "No. I have only been in two relationships. Both were with men. But I didn't, I mean with one, yes, but, I didn't," he stopped and blushed.

"Didn't go all the way?" Frankie suggested, and made a helpful little gesture with his pelvis to demonstrate.

Cam rolled his eyes and flushed a deeper red. "I don't know if I am gay," he admitted.

"Doesn't matter," Frankie told him, his dark eyes earnest. "It's you and me now. We don't need labels. It's you and me now, and we are just sitting, holding hands, and that's fantastic."

Cam smiled and shifted in the chair so he could lay his head on Frankie's shoulder. "Yes it is."

-X

Frankie had left a, clearly relieved and slightly overwhelmed, Cam that evening, saying he had arranged to meet a friend.

He had claimed his kiss, which was sweet and shy and beautiful, when they parted ways, and then dashed to his friend's house to throw himself on her mercy and beg for advice on how not to completely fuck this up.

Both Carrie, and her wife had been delighted with how he had handled things, and reassured him that it was a case of giving Cam plenty of time and space. Not pushing.

Although it was Tina who had given him the starkest warning.

"Be aware. Not everyone is comfortable with intimacy. Cam may never want a fully physical relationship with you. Is that something you could live with?"

"I don't know," Frankie admitted. Thinking that sounded horrible.

"Just keep talking," Carrie had said. "You'll be fine, just keep talking."

At rehearsal the next morning they had agreed to concentrate on the dance and have a proper talk about them, once they had cleared another round.

Both unsure whether they were more distracted, or less by this decision.

And then, suddenly, they were back in Paris.

-X

Cam had been slightly fascinated by Frankie on the trip over.

He had only ever seen him clean shaven before, and the dark stubble was doing something unnerving to his insides.

Now, after thirty-six hours without a shave, Frankie looked devastating and dangerous.

He pretended he hadn't been staring when Frankie came over, resting his chin on Cam's shoulder. "You look really hot," he complained.

"I thought that's what you wanted?" Cam replied, trying to hide his pleased grin.

"And you look really dangerous," He traced the temporary fake gang tattoo on Cam's bicep.

This time Cam laughed, it so closely matched his own thoughts.

One of the assistants, who dealt with the music, came over to them. "Hi, I'm sorry but did you give me the right music?" he held up the music file Frankie had provided him with.

"Yes, but I have a spare, if it's not working," Frankie offered.

"Oh, it's working," the young man confirmed. "But are you really dancing to Bon Jovi?"

Cam and Frankie just grinned at him.

"Cool," he said and turned to go. "You'll be up in ten minutes."

"Thank you, we're ready."

"Nice and loud please," Cam added.

The normally jaded assistant ran his eyes over both men, in their worn jeans and his grin spread. "This should be interesting," he muttered in French as he left.

Just over ten minutes later, there was muttering and some shocked gasps, as Frankie walked onto the dance floor. Followed a short distance behind, by Cam.

The first loud guitar cord echoed across the room and Frankie turned, his eyes narrowing, face hardening as he saw Cam and immediately strode forward.

Cam sneered and danced back, further enraging him. They circled, testing each other. Competing complicated steps mirroring each other and increasing in difficulty until, in a sudden move, they were locked.

Everything disappeared, apart from each other and the challenge in their eyes.

It was relentless. Heat, sweat and speed. Their breath merging as they tangled and moved. Graceful and controlled despite the suggestion of aggression.

Cam had said that he thought Frankie's character changed the mood to seduction because he was going to lose the fight. Frankie had patted Cam's back pocket and joked, "Damn right," saying he thought a bad boy like Cam was probably armed.

Frankie's hand on his ass had led to a ten minute kissing break before they had re-gained control. Yea, pretty distracted!

Cam allowed himself a smirk now, as Frankie's foot moved down his leg. (Frankie had cheekily timed it to a lyric about things getting harder!) Seeing an answering flare in Frankie's eyes, and suddenly they were even more in each other's space. Moving together closer than they had ever rehearsed.

Muscles tensed and flexed with the repeated change of direction and lifts. Sweat flew. Until suddenly they spun apart as if propelled, their eyes still locked, now full of confusion, questions and desire.

No happy endings for Frankie's characters? When Cam had asked him, "What do you think happens after the dance?" Frankie had snorted slightly and told him, "Think West Side Story."

Cam had disagreed. "The song is about living your best life." So they had compromised and left it more open to interpretation.

Now Cam stood sweating and gasping, adrenaline coursing through him. Watching the judges as they conferred, disagreed and scribbled.

Armenia Franklin, an American ex-dancer (only due to a knee injury), and head judge leaned forward to the microphone.

"Mr Vega-Caro," he said sternly.

Cam turned his head to glance at Frankie and felt his knees weaken in shock.

Frankie was stood, loose limbed, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, eyeing the judges with an expression that suggested he was deciding who to take out first.

He lifted his chin in an attitude that suggested, 'Yea, What?' or even, 'Fuck you'. Cam literally couldn't breathe.

Mr Franklin stared him down for another moment and then grinned, "Behave yourself."

Frankie laughed and his whole demeanour lightened. He stood up straight, took his hands out of his pockets and gave the judges a small bow. Most of them smiled. Frankie gave Cam a cheeky wink and he shook his head slightly. Jesus. Way to give him a heart attack.

They stood as the scores were read out. Two of the more conservative judges had marked down slightly for costume, but they averaged 9.8. They were through, and had just shot up the leader board.

Cam let out a shaky breath and they both nodded respectfully at the judges before leaving the floor.

The small audience and fellow competitors applauding them off. More than a few still singing the chorus.

"You bastard," Cam complained as soon as they were in the corridor. "You scared the shit out of me."

Frankie laughed as Cam fake shook him gently. "I was enjoying the character so much."

"I thought they were going to disqualify us."

"No way. Cam!" Frankie gripped his arms intently. "Nine point eight. Nine point fucking eight." They both whooped and hugged, breaking apart when a voice said, "Excuse me, Mr Vega-Caro. Frankie?"

They turned to see Dr Chazel. "May I have a word? The judges asked me to speak with you."

Frankie smiled, but it was concerned. "Hi, sorry they didn't ask me to report to you."

"No, no. Off the record. They wanted me to check you are well and if you needed anything."

"I'm good," Frankie smiled easily now. "I still had some pulling on the lifts a few days ago, but there's been nothing the past couple of days. All healed."

"Good. I'm pleased to hear it. And Mrs Bassett, you know her?" They both nodded, she was a judge. "She asked if you had someone to talk to, if you had received or needed counselling?"

"Really?"

Dr Chazel looked around and stepped closer. "I believe her son has very similar circumstances to yours, and has attracted unwanted attention in the past. She is concerned that you have all the support you need, and wanted you to know that if you do need more support, once the competition is over, you may contact her directly and she would be happy to help."

"Oh, wow," Frankie leaned into Cam when his arm slipped around his waist. "That's so sweet. You can tell her I have amazing family and friends and Cam," he flashed Cam a smile. "I'm okay, I promise, but will you thank her? I'll thank her myself after the competition, but I really appreciate her concern."

"I'll tell her. You don't need anything from me?" Frankie shook his head. "Good, then I'll see you in three weeks. Good luck." She smiled and kissed both of them on the cheeks before walking quickly away.

"You okay" Cam asked quietly.

"I may be a tad emotional," Frankie admitted, squeezing a little closer to Cam.

"Then let's find a tissue, dry you up and get back out there to watch Robbie and Mia."

Frankie sniffed, "Okay."

-X

Robbie and Mia's Jive gained them 9.4, and everyone was in high spirits on the late train home. Although flagging by the time they arrived at Waterloo.

Cam was seeing Mia home before going on to his flat, and Frankie was sharing with Robbie as they were close. So they said goodnight at the taxi rank.

"So, that was awesome," Frankie told Cam.

"Yes it was."

Frankie looked a little nervous. "I have an appointment with the lovely Guiseppe in the morning, but I'll be done by ten. Shall we meet for breakfast?"

"Who is Guiseppe?"

"The best wet shave in London," Frankie claimed, rubbing a ruefully hand over his chin. "If I try and deal with this myself I'll tear up my shaver and probably my face with it!"

Cam sniggered sleepily, cupping Frankie's face and tipping it to the light, as if to see better. "I'm going out of town tomorrow, seeing a friend." If he hadn't been watching closely he would have missed the flash of disappointment and more worrying, uncertainty, in Frankie's eyes.

"Take a rest. Maybe you can bring Spanish omelettes for breakfast on Wednesday?" he gave Frankie a winsome smile. "And maybe you can take a before and after picture tomorrow morning? For the shave."

Frankie wrinkled his nose, "Really? Why?"

"Really," Cam confirmed, running his thumb along the line of Frankie's jaw. "I'm interested."

"Are you?" Frankie asked quietly, his heart leaping into his eyes.

"Yes." Cam kissed Frankie's cheek. "Go get some sleep."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Cam slid into the cab and turned to find Mia smirking at him.

They lapsed immediately into Italian.

"You and Frankie? What's going on?"

"What do you think is going on, Mia?"

Mia gripped his arm lightly, leaning forward to see his face in the low light. "I didn't know you liked men. I'm surprised."

"Are you upset?" Cam asked, feeling nervous.

"No," she kissed his cheek. "No, it's exciting, I'm just surprised."

Cam frowned, but then said quietly. "I don't know if I just like men, but I do know he's it for me, it's Frankie. There's no one else for me." He laughed slightly. "I'm done now." Mia made a soppy noise and he laughed louder. "Oh, stop it."

"It's so beautiful. I always found it so frustrating that you didn't really see him, I wanted you to be friends. But this? This is amazing."

"I was wrong," Cam said simply.

"Cam," Mia moved closer. "Please don't hurt him."

"Why would I hurt him?"

"I just mean," she sighed and bit her lip. "He's had some bad experiences. Last year," she paused and changed tack. "He's so open, he gives himself so freely, but he's been hurt. He's quite sensitive. Just be careful with him."

"I'm bound to make mistakes, Mia. You can't be together and not make mistakes, but I'll be as careful as I can."

Mia's eyes widened. She asked the driver for a moment as the car pulled up at her apartment. "Oh my God. You're planning on keeping him!"

"I hope so."

"Have I just lost my dance partner," she asked, pouting.

"Ha! No. You can have him back after Paris. He's working me too hard."

They said goodnight, but Cam was left pondering. He hadn't missed that she has cut herself off while talking about something last year. What had happened last year?

-X

"Good morning," Frankie called, as he entered the studio on Wednesday morning, eight sharp, and found Cam already stretching.

"Morning." Cam's voice was a still sleep roughened.

"Ohhh. You got a cold?"

"No," Cam stood and wandered over, rubbing his eyes. "I'm just sleepy."

"Tea," Frankie said, handing over a take-out cup and watching Cam warily. Cam took the cup and sipped.

"Did you miss me yesterday?" Frankie asked, overbrightly. Cam merely shrugged and sipped again.

Frankie frowned a little and nodded to himself, "Okay. Well good, I guess."

"Idiot. Come here," Cam put the cup to one side and pulled Frankie in for a hug. "Of course I missed you. Even though I got about fifteen texts!"

Frankie linked his arms around Cam's waist, super tight. "You evil man. I thought you were like, whatever."

Cam pulled back after kissing Frankie's cheek. "No one could ever be whatever around you, Frankie." He lent against the counter and picked his drink back up, but delighted Frankie by leaving their hands linked.

"Awwwwww. You say the sweetest things," Frankie teased, and Cam snorted. "Have you checked your texts this morning?"

"Not since I got here. What did we get allocated?"

"I don't know," Frankie admitted. "I ran my battery down texting you yesterday, I need to charge my phone." So saying, he pulled out his phone and charger and walked over to a socket to plug it in.

Cam wandered over to his bag and dug his phone out. Switching it on, which made Frankie groan with frustration, and bringing up the texts.

"We have a Salsa," Cam advised and pulled a face.

"You don't like Salsa?" Frankie asked in shock.

"Hmmmm," Cam wrinkled his nose and waggled his hand in the air. Like, so-so.

Frankie Salsa'd over to him, hips threatening to trigger a hurricane in the Midlands. "But you Salsa with me?"

"I guess," Cam said with minimal enthusiasm.

"Hey!" Frankie pouted and gave him a nudge. Then brightened. "Let me lead. I'm half Cuban."

"No, is my turn," Cam reminded him, turning to chuck his phone in the general direction of his bag.

"But I'm half Cuban," Frankie wailed in mock despair. Coming up short and letting out a squeak when Cam turned suddenly and grabbed him. Yanking them pelvis to pelvis.

"And I will create a dance of such desire, such passion," Cam said as he brought his lips close to Frankie's. "Terrible longing and teasing," he bent Frankie backward. "And I shall leave everybody unfulfilled."

"Urghh," Frankie complained and went limp. Hanging in an upside down U shape. "You're horrible."

He stayed relaxed as Cam lowered him over his knee, and ran a hand over his taut torso. "Am I?" he asked, before dancing his fingers over Frankie's vulnerable ribs.

"Ahhh, ooofffphh." Frankie jack-knifed and they both collapsed in an ungainly heap. Cam's elbow whacking on the floor.

"Ah, shit," he complained, as he rubbed it, but he was laughing.

"Serves you right," Frankie scowled and rubbed his head. "I can't believe you dropped me."

"That wasn't a drop," Cam grinned. "It's a new lift. The tickle lift."

Frankie laughed and pounced, pinning Cam to the floor and straddling him. "A dance of unfulfilled need, huh! You gonna turn everyone on and send them away wanting more?"

"I think, yes. It's a good plan?"

"It's a great plan. Except it might kill me." Frankie lowered his head so their lips were almost touching again, "Are we allowed to kiss on the dance floor?"

"No," Cam rasped.

"Can I kiss you, Cam?"

"Yes." It came out more like a blunt command, and Frankie smiled slightly as he brought their lips together. Then he laughed as the door crashed open and he heard Robbie's joyous, "I do hope we're not interrupting."

Mia skipped across the room with a happy, "Frankieeeeee," and fell on his back. Crushing Cam under both of them. Laughing at Cam's muttered curses.

Frankie managed to lift himself up and dumped Mia on her butt before turning for a hug. "I only saw you two days ago."

"I just miss you," Mia admitted. "We got Cha Cha. Dance with me." She bent over and gave Cam a kiss on the cheek and a gentle pat on his tummy, "Scusa!"

Frankie was already on his feet, tapping something into the music player. As music poured out, he grabbed Mia and they spun into the dance.

"Holy shit, that's fast," Robbie commented, as he sat next to Cam.

Cam had pulled himself to sit cross legged. "They're amazing," he said as Frankie and Mia moved around the room.

After two hours of showing Robbie what Mia could do with a Cha Cha, and some sexy tricks. They broke for shared brunch and moved to discussing Frankie and Cam's Salsa.

"What music will you use?" Mia asked.

Cam whirled his finger in the air, like 'wait' while he swallowed. "I thought I would get help from Frankie's Cuban half for that."

Frankie sat up straight, looking interested. "You want my advice on the music?"

"No. I wondered if there was something that your dad has recorded that we could use."

Frankie and Mia both let out identical little gasps and cupped their hands over their faces, eyes welling.

Robbie chuckled. "These two spend way too much time together."

"That's so lovely," Mia whispered. Frankie was too overwhelmed to speak, he just reached out and gripped Cam's hand.

"Good idea?" Cam checked.

Frankie just nodded and gripped harder.

After food, having sent Mia and Robbie packing, Cam and Frankie started to play with their Salsa. Improvising moves and jotting down ideas.

They were still finding that their ideas mostly complimented each other, rather than clash. So were both relaxed and in a good mood when they headed back to Frankie's for dinner.

-X

Cam wandered with interest around Frankie's apartment. He had a spare bedroom and an office. What did he need an office for? A large lounge and minimal junk, which surprised Cam a little. There was a lot of artwork, but not much furniture.

When Cam commented on this, Frankie advised him to look in his bedroom. Sure enough, there was the junk. Shelves and shelves of it.

"I use the lounge like a studio a lot, so I don't want clutter in here," Frankie admitted, as he brought drinks out.

Cam thought that made sense. He was a little jealous of all the space Frankie had though. His whole flat could have fitted in the lounge and had space to spare.

He studied a moody black and white photograph. A handsome dark skinned man playing saxophone in a dimly lit club. "Is this your dad?"

"Yea," Frankie grinned and moved up behind him. "I look more like my mum really, here." He grabbed a framed picture from his office and passed it over. Cam studied the same man, with what was definitely Frankie's smile, and the pretty petite woman with dark hair and eyes. Everything about her was slender and elegant, but also friendly.