Club - a Breddy Fanfic.

97) The way he moves

Eddy hesitates, but then nods. "If you laugh, I'll never dance in front of you again."
He makes it sound like he's bantering, but Brett hears the unspoken undertone and knows he's dead serious underneath.

"I won't." Brett says with conviction. By now he knows his boyfriend too well to risk making fun of him. Maybe one day, when Eddy trusts him completely. He walks towards Eddy, reaches up and pushes a strand of hair out of Eddy's eyes. "Listen, love. Don't worry. I'm just excited to see." He smiles encouragingly. "Anything you need before you start?"

Eddy hesitates for a moment and looks away with... What actually? Is it shyness? Embarrassment? The difficulty is that Brett doesn't know. People say he has a deadpan face, but Eddy is just as hard to read sometimes. "Please?" he reassures. "Just do what you do when nobody is watching. Be fearless. Don't mind me." He lifts Eddy's chin with a finger and kisses the side of his mouth. "I only want you to be yourself without any hesitation or reservation." he coaxes. "Please?"

Eddy swallows visibly, straightens up and looks Brett straight in the eye. Their gazes connect, unspoken words exchanged. Eddy contemplates for a second and then nods decisively. "Okay. Here goes nothing. Just a minute then." He turns on his heels and walks towards his bedroom.

Brett takes a deep breath. What can he do so that Eddy loses his insecurities? He has to get his reactions just right, to show him that he'll never hurt him. With nothing else to do he grabs his box of rice from the side table and eats some more while he waits for Eddy to return.

It takes a while. As a matter of fact, it takes a long while. But just as Brett starts to wonder if Eddy might have fallen asleep somehow, the bedroom door opens and a shy looking Eddy emerges in the doorway. When he steps into the living room, Brett's eyes grow large. Eddy has changed into a white button down shirt with only the lower half of the buttons fastened. His sleeves are rolled up half way and he's wearing his tight, black jeans that Brett recognises from the Club. To top it all off, he is holding a hat in his hands that he is fidgeting with and nervously turning around and around.

"Uhm... Yeah. So..." Eddy stammers. "Here I am."

Brett looks him up and down and nods appreciatingly. "This looks very promising."

Eddy takes a deep breath, walks towards his stereo and plugs his phone in. It seems to take forever before Eddy finds what he's searching for making Brett wonder how many songs he has in his playlist. Doesn't all K-pop sound the same?
"Okay. This is a classic, but it's one of my favourites still." He looks at the couch. "Help me to put this aside? I need some space."
Brett gets up and helps him so that there is an open area that Eddy can use. Eddy gestures towards the couch. "Please, sit?"

Brett sits himself in the middle of the couch so that he has the best view over the newly formed 'dance-floor'. Eddy visibly shivers. He takes a deep breath and shakes it off as he walks to the centre. Another deep breath and he strikes a pose while holding his hat, placed coquettishly askew on his bowed head.
"Fearless." Brett hears him mutter softly before he takes yet another deep breath. "Okay. I'm ready. Hit play."

The beat blasting through the stereo is generic, the Korean lyrics unintelligible. This is really not something he would put on. Not that the Club music is great, but he's gotten used to that by now. But then Eddy moves. And how he moves. Brett is not prepared for this. At all. The weird thing is, that Eddy in Club gear should already be familiar to him. He has seen it before. But Eddy in full dance gear – the hat, the shirt sleeves wrapped right at the bulge of his biceps, the snug black pants hugging his butt comfortably- is new. Should it be that different? Should it provoke something visceral, so carnal in nature in him? But the way Eddy's muscles stretch and flex with every move, looking the way he does and wearing the things he's wearing? It's actually a lot. Why does this music have to be so repulsive while Eddy looks so damn good dancing to it?
When small pearls of sweat form on Eddy's fore head, Brett has to focus to keep his breath under control. Because that vision is something that brings up memories. He has seen those before, up-close, with himself positioned between Eddy's thighs. The same thighs he opens and closes now in a downward motion as the dance dictates. Brett can't take his eyes off of him, forgetting his resolve to control his reactions, completely mesmerized like a moth to a hot flame. The lyrics are drawn out to the background, only a mantra of words over and over singing in his head: Holy fuck! Hot!