Private Dicks by Katie Allen

at him. To his surprise, Wash shrugged
with a long-suffering expression.
    “Fine,” he gave in, catching Rhodes around the nape and
tugging so their sweaty foreheads rested against each other. “The things I do
to make you happy.”
    Their mouths were so close. Rhodes stared at the upward
curve of Wash’s full lips and shifted, desperate to feel his partner’s mouth
against his…
    Before their lips could meet, Wash’s eyes caught on
something over Rhodes’ shoulder.
    “Check it out,” Wash told him, giving the barest nod in the
direction of his gaze. “There’s our guy.”
    Shit. Work. With a resigned sigh, Rhodes turned them
both in a half-circle so he could see who Wash had been looking at. It was Ness
standing at the edge of the dance floor, although he looked completely
different from the photo on the wall at the youth center. Tonight, Ness was all
clubbed out, hair slicked back with enough product to supply a sorority house
for a year, white shirt unbuttoned to his navel and tight leather pants. Rhodes
winced.
    “That,” he told Wash, “should not be in leather. That
is an affront to leather.”
    Wash grinned. “Ness isn’t someone you’d pick up then?”
    “Fuck no!” Staring at Wash with an utterly offended
expression, Rhodes almost stopped dancing at the horror of the idea. “How could
you even think that?”
    Laughing now, Wash nudged him back into motion. “Just
shitting you, I promise. Although it’d be handy. You wouldn’t even need lube.
Just run a hand through his hair and you’re good to go.”
    “Jesus, Wash!” The image was positively nauseating. “That’s
so fucking wrong.”
    Wash was almost crying, he was laughing so hard. “C’mon,” he
choked out. “Let’s ease our way over.”
    Still moving to the music, they worked their way across the
dance floor to the side edged with ropes cordoning off the entrance to the
V.I.P. section. Ness was standing just behind the velvet barrier, eyeing the
crowd.
    “Okay, Rhodie, now get his attention,” Wash ordered, just
loud enough for Rhodes to hear.
    “Me?” Rhodes yelped. “ You get him to look.”
    “You’re the one who goes to gay clubs—just do whatever you
do to pick someone up when you need to get laid.” Wash flipped his hand in a
“go on” gesture.
    Scowling, Rhodes argued, “What—sit at the bar drinking beer
’til someone approaches me?”
    “Really?” Wash raised an eyebrow. “Anyone? Thought you were
more discriminating than that.”
    “Depends.”
    “On what?”
    “How horny I am,” Rhodes admitted, smiling grudgingly at
Wash’s bark of laughter.
    “Fine,” Wash capitulated. “Let’s both just put on a show.”
With that, he started to dance— really dance. Rhodes blinked and then
joined in, trying to top each of his partner’s moves with a down-and-dirty
gyration of his own. There was one twisting thrust that Wash did with his hips,
though, that Rhodes didn’t even try to imitate. He just stared and drooled.
    When Rhodes snapped out of his lust-ridden daze, Wash had
turned away from him. Yanking his partner’s hips against his without thought,
Rhodes ground his hardening cock against the tight ass in front of him, sucking
in a breath at the impact.
    Wash tipped his head down and Rhodes took advantage of his
exposed neck, licking the sweat streaking his partner’s skin.
    “Fuck!” Wash hissed at the contact.
    Rhodes knew he should pull his mouth away but he
couldn’t—Wash tasted too good. His groan vibrated against his own lips when
Wash tilted his head slightly, offering access to the sensitive skin behind his
ear.
    His heart beating out of his chest, Rhodes sucked at Wash’s
earlobe then tugged on it with his teeth. Gritting out another curse, Wash
reached behind to grab his hip, pulling Rhodes’ erection more tightly against
his ass.
    Panting now, Rhodes nibbled his way down the neck in front
of him until he was blocked by Wash’s collar. Growling in frustration, Rhodes
closed his