Perfection

So, Dance of Desire was never meant to have a sequel, but here it is! This little tale is inspired by one of my regular commentor's slight obsession with one of my character's called, Cam. Super desperate for a story told only from Cam's point of view.

Well, Cam is gorgeous, and has that enigmatic brooding thing going on, which shatters with that super cute smile. (Sigh!) Who wouldn't be obsessed? And the abs. (Whimpery sigh!)

Yes you, Honey! You wanna know what goes on in Cam's head? Well, this is third person, but it's 100% Cam. Read on...

Anyone who just fancies a quick trip to Italy with lots of hot sweaty sex? Read on...

This can also be read as a standalone.

Tess O'Meter -- Green.

-X

Cam yawned and stretched hesitantly. Then with more confidence, as the sharp pain in his back didn't return.

Then, like a cat, he lengthened his elegant, well-toned, five-ten (and a wee bit) to his full length, with another jaw cracking yawn before relaxing back into the mattress. Pleased that it seemed like the soreness in his pulled muscle was receding.

Cam's usual dance partner, Beth, was still on maternity leave. He had agreed to do a few turns on the circuit with a very talented young lady called, Muriel. (Which Cam could not say correctly, no matter how hard he tried.)

Muriel's partner, and boyfriend, had broken his ankle. It was a 'good' break, if such a thing were possible. It would heal cleanly and strongly, but he was out of action for at least four months.

Cam had agreed to partner Muriel, and she was good, but not very experienced. A few days ago she had hesitated on a lift during rehearsal, leading to Cam trying to heave her into the air from a standstill.

She couldn't be more than eight stone soaking wet, and Cam's gracefully muscled physique was strong, but even so it had been a lot to try and lift with no assistance. They had gone down in a tangle. Muriel apologizing profusely and Cam swearing fluently.

Thankfully, Muriel didn't speak Italian!

Cam huffed out a laugh. At least they had a couple of weeks break now. He would be fit and ready to tease more confidence out of her when he returned from vacation.

He finally blinked his eyes open and was pleased to see it was full daylight. He hated waking too early. It just led to thinking time. Five in the morning thinking was always so fucking depressing.

He stretched again and sighed. Deeply content with the overnight improvement in his back. Sitting on a plane for three hours wouldn't be as unpleasant as he had been anticipating.

Of course, much of it was probably down to the tender attentions of his husband, Frankie, last night.

He had been massaged into the consistency of limp, overcooked pasta. Then once Frankie had him weak and defenceless, he had taken terrible and wonderful advantage of him.

Cam smiled and felt his face heat. He never minded being taken advantage of. But the decadence last night of lying, flaked out, unable to do more than moan, as Frankie had sucked his seed, soul, and possibly life force, out of his dick.

He pressed his face into the pillow to hide the stupid grin. It had been something else.

Speaking of which?

Cam pulled his face out of the pillow before he suffocated, and eyes again closed, rolled, allowing his hand to flop onto the bed beside him.

What would he hit today? Sometimes his hand landed on ass, or chest. Cock was always good. Nose or chin was usually pretty funny, especially if Frankie was still asleep and not expecting it. His cute little face all scrunched up in sleepy annoyance, before he started laughing.

Cam frowned as his hand landed on duvet. He rolled fully to his back and frowned at the empty bed. It was still early. Where was his bed warmer?

And what hell was that smell?

Even as Cam's feet hit the floor, the fire alarm started shrilling in the kitchen. He winced, but paused a moment to listen. Grinning at the semi-whispered, "Hush. Shut the fuck up," and the sound of a stool scraping.

Next the blessed silence, broken only by a hissed, "Bastard thing!"

He lazily yanked on ancient sweatpants that more or less had enough grip to cling around his hips and wandered out to the kitchen.

Frankie froze guiltily in the act of waving a tea-towel in the air, trying to encourage the acrid black fumes, that looked like they could engulf a small country, towards the window.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No. I was awake. What are you doing?"

Frankie pouted, "I was making breakfast, but I got distracted. It's okay. I can start again."

Cam leaned over and peered into the bowl. "Ricotta pancakes? Why are you going to all this trouble. We're leaving today. You didn't have to do all this."

"Because it's your birthday, and they're your favourite, and today has to be perfect."

"It's not my birthday for two days."

"It's your birthday slash holiday slash honeymoon. So it has to be perfect," Frankie glared at him so ferociously while swiping his hand through the air, that Cam cracked up and kissed his nose.

"Do I get older every day for the whole holiday?"

Frankie just rolled his eyes.

"Do you want a hand?"

"No. You go shower, I need twenty minutes."

Not bothering to argue, Cam hiked his pants back up and headed for the shower.

Twenty-five minutes later, he returned to a much more pleasant smell and a smiling Frankie arranging fruit and berries in an elaborate and exact patten around the fluffy pancakes.

"Perfect timing. Perfect pancakes. I hope," Frankie hustled him onto a stool and flamboyantly presented him with a plate and fork. Watching with concern, biting his lip, as Cam shoved back his damp hair, then carved out some pancake and berries and chewed thoughtfully.

He was careful to keep his face blank. Amused by Frankie's dark eyes watching his mouth move, desperate for a clue. Cam nodded, frowned a little, and let out a doubtful, "Hmmmm."

He snorted out a laugh when Frankie's face fell, "Are they terrible?"

"It's delicious. Are you going to be a crazy man the whole trip?"

Frankie's eyes narrowed and he grumbled a word in Creole, which he always refused to tell Cam the meaning of, but Cam was sure was a very bad word.

"You cursing me again?" he asked brightly. Completely unconcerned as he shovelled in more pancake.

Frankie tried to look cross, but was obviously too pleased at the sight of Cam enjoying his breakfast.

Before Frankie could slip onto the stool next to him, Cam grabbed him and pulled him close. Briefly abandoning his food so he could pull Frankie between his legs and run his lips up the side of his neck.

"Remember, Frankie. No day is perfect. But every day with you is wonderful. Because I am with you."

He smiled as Frankie turned his head to catch his lips. "Me too," his whispered, his eyes a little damp.

Cam gave him a fond nudge back towards the stool and watched as Frankie hopped up and tried his pancake. "Oh, it's good."

"Si. I said," Cam agreed, taking another bite and eyeing Frankie's plate.

He grinned as Frankie took a protective hold and tucked in.

-X

"Did you put the battery back in the fire alarm?" Cam suddenly thought to ask. Not that it would make much difference, as they had already arrived at the airport and sailed through security.

"Yes," Frankie confirmed. Cam allowed his smug, as the traffic had been light, the queue's speedy and so far he was getting his perfect day.

A half hour later, the smug slipped a little as the announcement came. "We are sorry to advise Ryanair flight FR1474 to Naples is delayed, please await further announcements."

Cam shrugged at Frankie's look. "It doesn't matter," he reassured him. "We'll get there."

Three hours later, Cam was entertained by Frankie's dark looks towards the check in desk, and mutterings about the virtues of EasyJet. He would have expected Frankie, who had travelled a lot, to be more used to travel delays.

After a quick call to Bella, to advise her of the issue, he hung up and pulled Frankie towards him.

"Relax. We get there today, or tomorrow. It's not the important thing."

"But!"

"You wanted perfect. I know. Stop worrying," Cam said firmly and felt Frankie relent.

"Sorry."

"Is okay."

It was nearly midnight, local time, when Frankie and Cam finally arrived at Bella's house in Naples.

This was not the house that Cam had half grown up in, from the age of fourteen. Or lived in full time between sixteen and nineteen, before he had moved to the UK.

But it was on the same street.

This house, with four bedrooms, allowing Bella a spare room for guests, was not overly opulent. She had the same neighbours, but it was more than twice the size of their old home at the other end of the street.

Buying the house for Bella, had been Frankie's wedding present to Cam.

As Cam hauled his luggage out the car and stood for a moment, considering his husband, he felt his heart warm. Typical Frankie, to present Bella with a home she couldn't say not to, because it was a present to Cam.

And Cam couldn't say no to, because Bella, and her daughter Lucia, had shared a room since Lucia was born. Bella deserved this. She needed it.

Sometimes Cam felt slightly unnerved by how well Frankie knew him, and therefore could manipulate him.

When Frankie turned and smiled at him, his heart flipped. Frankie's eyes were bright with happiness. "It's lovely. The house, it's so sweet." He spoke quietly, as Cam had warned him about the neighbours.

Cam moved closer smiling. "It's wonderful. You can see the old house there," he pointed. "Where that little cat is sat."

"So close."

Cam nodded, and briefly pressed his lips to Frankie's. Trying to make him understand the thanks, and love. The appreciation of his generosity. Money wasn't an issue for Frankie, but Cam didn't feel that lessoned the gesture.

He felt Frankie's hand slip into his hair as the kiss lengthened. They were both smiling when they pulled back.

With no need to speak, Cam stepped forward and knocked quietly at the door. Glancing nervously over his shoulder.

Just as he raised his hand to knock again, a little louder, the door opened. Cam's heart thudded in his chest, as he looked at his baby brother.

Taller than him now, at a fraction under six-feet. Handsome and slender. Boyish face, although he needed a shave. Cam felt the twin pull of excitement and regret. Always so wonderful to see him, but the regret that they lived in different countries.

Tonio looked him up and down and sneered, but Cam recognized the happy thrill and excitement in Tonio's dark eyes. So unlike his own blue.

Even so, he brushed carelessly past Cam to grip Frankie in a bear hug. "At last. My favourite brother-in-law," he exclaimed in perfect English.

Cam shook his head and rolled his eyes, but his heart lifted. He loved what good friends Tonio and Frankie were already.

He shifted his bag inside and grinned at Bella, before returning for Frankie's bag. Frankie and Tonio were still locked in their swaying hug, and whispering together.

Before he could grab the bag he heard, "Camillo Russo!" Jumping slightly, he turned and waved at Bella's neighbour. The terrifying Lorenzo Gastani. Who was approximately a hundred and fifty, but somehow still alive.

"Signor Gastani," Cam called quietly. Hurrying across the street to pay his respects. He knew he was flushing and felt equal parts embarrassed and chastised. Ridiculous. It was more than half a lifetime ago that he had kicked a ball through Signor Gastani's window.

Still, he smiled and nodded as the old man took his hand. Terrifying when he was fourteen and being threatened with a belt (Bella had threatened to use the belt on Signor Gastani if he tried. And then made Cam work off the costs of the window).

Cam had been overwhelmed at someone standing up for him. Slow to trust, he had known Bella for four months before that day. Her stout defence had him falling sweetly and innocently in love and awe.

A love and awe that had only grown.

But now, looking down at a suddenly frail Signor Gastani, Cam felt saddened. Life was change, and change was often hard and heart-breaking.

"How are you?" he enquired. Wincing as he failed to hide his concern and seeing Signor Gastani stiffen his spine.

"Humph, still here," he grumbled. "Tonio said you and he will move some furniture for me tomorrow morning? Before breakfast, but I'll have coffee for you."

"Of course, Signor. Whatever you need."

"Good. Well, it's late. I want to go to bed. Are you not going to introduce me to your husband?"

Cam jolted slightly in shock. "Um, well," he stopped lost for words. Looking back over his shoulder and seeing Bella welcoming Frankie and motioning him inside.

"What? You think because I will soon meet my God, I don't understand love. Call him over," Signor Gastani whacked Cam's arm impatiently.

"Okay," Cam caught Bella's eye and pointed at Frankie, who turned at Bella's direction and hurried over, his expression cautious. Cam had warned him about the grumpy neighbour.

"Signor Gastani, this is Frankie. Frankie, this is Signor Gastani. He is a vulcanologo, er."

"I study and teach about volcano's," Signor Gastani clarified in English. Which Cam had no idea he spoke.

"There is nothing Signor Gastani couldn't tell you about Mount Vesuvius," Cam added, with pride he hadn't realized he felt.

"You may call me Lorenzo," Signor Gastani told Frankie, patting his arm. Then turning to stare down Cam's frown, "You may not."

Cam laughed. Surprised at the wave of fondness that filled him. "I wouldn't dream of it, Signor," he admitted. Laughing again when Signor Gastani grinned.

"It's very nice to meet you, Lorenzo," Frankie said, in careful Italian. Joining the joke.

"Ah, good," Signor Gastani acknowledged Frankie's Italian, but spoke again in English. "I go to bed now. Come tomorrow with the two boys. We can talk while they work. I have the best coffee."

"It would be my pleasure, thank you," Frankie agreed.

Signor Gastani nodded firmly, then reached up and gave Cam a none too gentle pat on his cheek before pinching his chin, "This stubborn jaw," he stated, before reaching a kinder and slightly trembling hand to Frankie's face and cupping him gently. "And this sweet smile." He nodded again, "Yes, you will do well together."

He turned and walked back into his house. "In the morning, then. Goodnight." The door slammed shut before either of them made a reply.

Bella was smiling and holding the door when the crossed the street. Tonio having taken Frankie's bag in.

"He's having a stairlift fitted in the morning," she confirmed as they walked in. "Tonio said you and he would move some furniture to make space."

"That's okay," Cam said as he was pulled into a hug. He closed his eyes and rested his head on Bella's shoulder. He loved the feeling of safety when she held him. A feeling he hadn't known until he was nearly grown.

"He was weird with Frankie," he murmured, feeling bemused.

"I showed him the wedding pictures," Tonio told him. "He said Frankie reminded him of his brother. The one that died fighting next to him in the war."

Frankie gasped and looked horrified, his hand flying to his mouth. "That's terrible."

Tonio nodded, "Yea. He was shot and died in Signor Gastani's arms. Really horrible thing to experience. But it's okay, he said he wanted to meet you."

Cam stood back as Bella released him, surprised as Tonio continued.

"He wasn't bothered at all that you married a man. He said people should be able to love who they love." Tonio moved forward now and finally pulled Cam into an embrace.

Cam pushed aside his surprise over the old man, to concentrate on his brother. "Missed you," he said, pulling Tonio even closer.

Tonio hugged him back. When they separated, they were both misty eyed, and neither embarrassed about it.

Cam cupped Tonio's face and shook his head, his heart amazed. "How are you such a man? You were a baby five minutes ago."

"You're just getting old," Tonio teased, and kissed his cheek in an easy display of affection.

-X

The next morning Cam walked Frankie towards the docks.

It had been an early start. Tonio and Cam sweating and huffing as they moved bookcases (plus the books) and cupboards to clear a space around Signor Gastani's stairs.

As they worked, Frankie and the Signor had sat in the warm morning sun, sipping coffee leisurely. Frankie apparently fascinated by Signor Gastani's tales of volcanos, the city, and his endless stories. Shared in a combination of slow Italian and basic English.

Cam had laughed and muttered under his breath to Tonio that some of the stories might even be true.

Frankie had accepted that Signor Gastani would consider him a guest and be offended if he tried to help with the work. Cam had been pleased that after one offer, to ease his own conscience, Frankie had kept the Signor out of their way.

God knows, if he hadn't been distracted, it would have taken twice as long.

Still the coffee had been hot and plentiful, and the pastries delicious.

Tonio had now scampered off to practice his dubious charms on his latest girlfriend, and Cam was showing Frankie the city.

He laughed out loud when they reached a major intersection and Frankie saw the fast moving traffic.

"Um, Cam? Why isn't the traffic stopping?" Frankie watched four wide lanes of traffic (although in some places it was more like six lanes as illegal overtaking seemed to be a national sport!) zip past.

"They won't stop."

"But it's a zebra crossing," Frankie stated, and Cam laughed harder at his naivety.

"I know for a fact this is not your first time in Italy," he said, before placing a hand on Frankie's back and pushing. "Let's go."

Horns honked, curses flew (many from Frankie) and scooters whizzed around them as they strode across the road.

When they reached the other side, Frankie delighted Cam by bending double, his hands on his thighs. "Holy shit!"

"You're so brave. I'm so proud," Cam told him in an exaggerated voice, patting his back.

"Leccaculo!" Frankie responded. Cam knew he would regret teaching him that one. He laughed again when Frankie straightened and told him, "We are getting a cab back."

They spent the rest of the morning and a lazy afternoon wandering the city, stopping at cafes, and eating gelato while watching the boats of varying sizes.

Sun-brushed, sleepy, and slightly sick (it was hard to decide on flavour when it came to gelato), they picked up some wonderful fresh and fragrant vegetables at the market and arrived back at the house in time to prepare dinner.

Cam sat and sipped wine and felt almost too full of love and pleasure as he watched Frankie teach Bella and Lucia how to make Paella.

Tonio arrived home in time to eat (of course) and disappeared again when it was time to clean up (typical).

Cam took the opportunity to chat with Lucia and catch up on her news. They hadn't had much time at the wedding, which had been a few months ago.

Once the kitchen was set to rights, he went to find his husband, who had gone for a shower about an half an hour ago and was, Cam anticipated, now clean and waiting with lube at the ready. It was time for holiday sex.

Cam slipped into the bedroom and closed the door quietly. Leaning against it, his hands behind his back, head resting on the door.

He bit his lip and smiled despite himself. Ah well, best laid plans.

Frankie was on the bed, and there was lube, but he was also unconscious. Curled up, his arm partly thrown over his head, like a cat with its paw over its nose. This bizarre position, Cam knew, meant that Frankie was deeply asleep.

He sighed and moved to the bathroom.

Five minutes later, having rinsed the remains of sun cream from his skin, Cam lazily stroked his semi-hard cock and wondered if he could be bothered to jack off, or maybe wait for the morning.