The music pounds around him loud enough that Dirk swears his heart's natural rhythm has changed to the heavy beat. It feels like a force pressing in around him almost as physically present as the mass of people packed together on the dance floor. The strobing lights catch on his glasses as machinery twists and flashes around the room, cutting through the fog machine with small beams of light. The bright colors dance on the sweaty sheen on everyone's skin built up by the continuous movement. It's pretty late into the night but the club doesn't show any signs of slowing.
Dirk's hips flick to the beat, bouncing side to side. His arms dip into the crowd, lightly touching hips of the crowd and pulling them close for a moment if they are found willing. It doesn't matter if they are female or male, hot is hot in an environment like this. Though Dirk definitely has a preference for those with the smaller, narrow hips and tuck in right under his chin. But with his wide shoulders and tall height, almost everyone fits that criteria and he has no shortage of dancing partners.
He gets own fair share of invitations to dance as well, light fingers drifting across his shoulders, chest, and hips smearing some of the chalky pink, orange, green, and teal paint that light up in the blacklight that drenches everything in that eerie glow. There are gentle tugs on his black wife beater and not so gentle cups of his ass. But he can't really blame them; he'd be grabbing himself in these short leather shorts. They are a little constricting but only because he's been sporting a semi all night long. Something about the heady movement of the bodies on the dance floor, all of them being slaves to the music, that gets him going. The light buzz of several screwdrivers doesn't hurt either. He can feel the alcohol making his joints just all that much looser as he floats from partner to partner through the sea of people. His mind is sharp as ever but he still takes a second look when bright blue catches his eyes.
The blue is gone in the next instant but Dirk swears that those eyes were glowing.
He starts pressing in that direction, looking over everyone's heads for another glimpse. They flash in his direction every once in a while like breadcrumbs through the forest. Dirk feels like they are taunting him as he passes the DJ booth a third time. He's about to give up trying to catch the will-o'-the-wisp of the dancefloor when suddenly they are directly in front of him. There is no hesitation when Dirk reaches out and pulls his prey towards him. His hands almost wrap around the skinny waist that fold into Dirk's hips perfectly. Dirk runs his hands up sides that shiver pleasantly under the torn up white cotton shirt.
The perfect is completed when the cute face has to tip up to look at Dirk. The bright blue eyes that had caught Dirk's attention have a mischievous gleam to them, standing out against the dark skin and even darker hair that is plastered to a forehead slick with sweat. Seems the cutie has been very energetic in dancing (and fleeing). There is a bright splash of orange on his cheek that looks like war paint and makes Dirk strangely possessive.
The only thought in Dirk's head is fucking gorgeous.
Dirk is determined to make sure that this isn't a quick dance, his fingers curling around his back possessively. His partner doesn't seem to have any issues with that, slipping closer to Dirk as well. Arms come up around Dirk's neck, bringing their chests close as well as their swaying hips. A little tug has Dirk leaning forward, bringing lips close to his ear.
"God, you're hot," Dirk's partner murmurs to him just over the level of the music. It's Dirk's turn to shiver and he responds by gripping harder, gaining a laugh. "I'm John."
"Dirk," he manages to get out, his voice a little rougher than he was planning to. John doesn't seem to mind. In fact he seems to like it if the grind he gets means anything.
The music flows from one song to the next, and John makes no move to get out of Dirk's reach except to turn around if the music seems to indicate that John should be rubbing his ass against Dirk instead of the clothed frotting they are doing on others. Dirk's semi has grown into a full blown boner. He might have been embarrassed if he hadn't felt John's boner right next to his even through the leather shorts and skinny jeans. On the next song, John flips back to face Dirk, and Dirk makes short work pulling him in and up. Their lips meet almost instantly and Dirk feels like he is on cloud nine. He can't believe that someone could taste that good. Like sea salt and citrus.
John's fingers dive into Dirk's hair, not caring about sweat or gel, and Dirk couldn't care less at all. Not with how well John's fits against him in every possible way. Dirk's hands roam John's entire backside, enjoying the muscles of his back and shoulders, his tiny waist, and that handful of ass that Dirk can't get enough of. He's always been an ass man and this was the perfect specimen it seems. They continues to dance and grind but pay little attention to the world around them outside of the beat the penetrates everything.
Dirk moves his lips to John's jaw and neck the next time they take a moment to breathe. The sea salt taste gets stronger on his skin and Dirk can't get enough, dragging his tongue up along John's tendons that stretch under his chocolate skin as he tilts his head to the side, giving Dirk more space to work with. He works his way up to John's ear, nibbling on the lobe.
"Ya ain't twenty-one, are ya? Ya snuck it, din ya? Fake or bathroom window," Dirk murmurs to him. He gets a nod. Of course he's not twenty-one. A twink this good wouldn't be that old just yet. "Please, please tell me that you're at least eighteen. Tell me that your ass is legal. Otherwise I'ma cry." Another nod and Dirk lets out a sigh of relief and then doubles his groping and grinding on the fresh twink.
"God, the things I want to do to ya. Ya have an ass that can't quit. And I bet your cock is as delicious as your mouth. I could just eat ya up. Take ya whole, swallow ya down. Ya ever been deepthroated before? I ain't got a gag reflex so ya could fuck my mouth; just grab my hair and use me and cum down my throat."
He feels rather than hear the groan that goes through John's chest at his words. Dirk wondered for a half second if he was coming onto John too hard, but then he gets a mouth at his ear too.
"I bet a slut like you would swallow too. Jesus fuck, Dirk. You are going to make me cum in my pants with talk like that. Though I'd just make you clean that up with your filthy mouth and blow me again."
"Hell yeah I would. I bet ya have a pretty dick that I could suck all day long. And sounds like ya go several rounds. Fuck that's hot."
"Hot enough to make you cum here, in the middle of everything, with all these people around us?" John simply gets a deep moan and an off beat hitch of Dirk's hips in answer. "Thought so."
Dirk's worried for a second that it was the wrong answer when John pulls back but it seems that he just needed enough space to slip a hand in between them. Dirk's gasping as the nimble finger skill John has as John flick both of their buttons open and slide their zippers down. Since underwear wouldn't fit under his leather shorts, the cooler air is instantly on Dirk's cock a split second before John's hand is covering it. Another second and John's cock is scooped up as well and pressed against Dirk's.
Dirk honestly can't breathe for a moment until John crashes their lips together. Then John starts to pump them together to the beat of the music. Dirk rolls his hips in time as well, adding to the friction as he drinks down John's moans. John shoves into Dirk a bit as Dirk bites his lip and Dirk is knocked into someone behind him, reminding him instantly of all the people around them. They are seriously frotting dick on dick out in public less than an hour after meeting each other. Fuck this is Dirk's dream guy.
Their kisses gets looser and looser as they fight between smashing lips together and panting as the music lifts them up, coming soon to a climax. John's hand gets more and more frantic and then he presses forward again, getting close to Dirk's ear. "Dirk, Dirk," Dirk could almost cum with just the way his name sounds in John's breathy voice. "Open your eyes when you cum with me."
Well, Dirk's close enough that he pulls back far enough to shove his shades to the top of his head and stare down into John's bright blues. John stares just as boldly up into his orange ones without flinching. Dirk smirks at that, but then he watches John's plump lips curl around a single word. He doesn't hear the actual command over the music, but that doesn't stop him from obeying.
Heat splashes over his lower stomach where his shorts have been pushed down for John's hand and his shirt has ridden up. Dirk wouldn't be surprised if he got some on his shirt with how much he knows he can cum. They actually lose track of the music as they both orgasm against each other. They get funny looks from those in the immediate vicinity for the way they've shuttered against the beats and for the moans that are barely audible over the music.
When they've finally recovered enough to breathe again, Dirk drops his hands to help put their cocks away, noting that they both haven't gone completely soft. Dirk expects John to wipe his hand on one of their shirts, musing that the stains might show up on the blacklight, but he does not expect it when John lifts his hand up to Dirk's mouth. Orange catch blue again and read the next command off his lips.
Lick.
Dirk groans as his tongue flicks out and starts lapping at the mess on John's hand. He takes each of his fingers into his mouth until he sure that they are clean of any cum. Their combined tastes are bitter but slightly sweet and Dirk can't get enough.
John's now clean hand curls around to the back of Dirk's head again and pulls him close. "You are coming back to my place." He makes it a statement and Dirk can't find it in himself to disagree. Dirk uses his larger form to start pushing through the dancing crowd, keeping John close to him. They are almost to the edge when the song changes and John grabs Dirk's arm, pulling him back. Dirk turns with a confused look before John is holding up one finger to indicate just one more song. Dirk tilts his head and listens to what is playing. It's a slower beat song, presumably to bring the crowd down from their hype. It's obviously geared towards couples, maybe to seal the deal for hook ups made in the club. He already has his, but Dirk guesses he could indulge his twink.
John smiles brightly as Dirk's hands find his hips and start to guide their swaying to the new beat. John's bright smile fades to a dorky grin as he moves his hands up to Dirk's neck once again. He lets Dirk lead him in their dancing, but his eyes are scanning over the people beside and behind Dirk. He notices one of the servers holding a tray of the pink blacklight paint. John manages to scoop up a little and brush it on Dirk's face making no particular pattern, but ends up giving Dirk cat whiskers when he is done. Dirk raises a brow feeling where the paint was put and scoops up some of his own. He smears it across John's forehead in a symbol he had memorized from childhood and watching The Lion King way too much.
By the time the song had ended they had managed to confiscate one of the jars of paint, and had each other covered in small symbols here and there on their arms face and neck, enjoying the feeling of each other's skin sliding underneath their fingertips. Dirk wishes that blacklight showed up on phone cameras better as he likes how the twink looks in front of him but unfortunately his masterpiece wouldn't last. Especially not with the plans he had for tonight.
He drags John out of the club before another song could start. The cool outside air of the night refreshes him as it fills his lungs and stings his skin. He grabs John and kisses him before hailing a cab. He snags a handful of wipes available by the door before ducking into the back of the car with John trailing along. John gives the driver his address as Dirk finds a reflective surface, snorts at the result he finds and then starts cleaning his face. He does the same with John, leaving the rest of his body for his bed sheets to presumably take care of.