Inigo's embarrassment about dancing was so all-consuming that he never felt he would be able to overcome his fears. At least, with anybody but Gerome, with whom he found himself more than able to open up to in ways that quite frankly surprised him. His stoic lover brought out something in him. Perhaps the courage he found in knowing he would be accepted, given that Gerome had showed him his unmasked face in return, the knowledge they were both at their most vulnerable together and that the fact they remained was all the proof they would ever need of their love for one another. It emboldened him, gave him an audience to practice for, to find his footing knowing that the eyes on him were loving and not judgemental at all. Gerome knew not the first thing about dance, but he did know that the way Inigo moved so gracefully was remarkable, and all he needed to give was support and the appreciative eyes that couldn't possibly tell a lie to him.
To pay back his boyfriend for suffering through his recitals time and again, Inigo always made sure to end them with a private dance, the one Inigo knew he adored more than all the others. In truth, Gerome did enjoy watching him move, but he wouldn't admit that this dance was his favorite, for fear it would ever slip out regularity. Inigo shed all of his clothing as he slid into the strong warrior's lap, hands already waiting for him as he straddled him steadily, gripping his bare hips, fingertips pressing into his ass and holding firmly onto him as he began to move, teasing the fully clothed Gerome. Anticipation ensured he was already rigid, a small droplet of pre lingering on his tip as he moved, grinding down into Gerome's midsection eagerly.
The grace and finesse with which he moved always drew the appreciation of Gerome, a warrior built on strength and power, whose speed came from his wyvern rather than his own conditioning. His style was hard and brutish, and to see the limberness in Inigo, that natural grace and speed that lent as much to his dancing as it did to his combat style, was remarkable. He wasn't jealous of the way he moved, but he respected it, and while clueless about dance, he knew how to appreciate Inigo's skill in other ways, aside from the purely carnal.
With his hips swaying from side to side, Inigo slowly rose upward, finding his footing on either side of the bed as he drifted along his boyfriend's body, kisses trailing along his neck to his jaw, his ear, and then off of him completely, granting him a close-up view of his lean torso moving about. Their grips shifted, Inigo finding Gerome's shoulder and firm purchase in his hair, as his own his were released only for the strong hands to firmly grip his toned ass, greedily kneading the flesh and the muscles beneath as he braced himself for the first part of Inigo's dance, a routine that had become rather complex over time as they added more and more pieces to it.
The first of which was underway as Inigo stood up fully, using the hold on Gerome's head to angle his head back before easing his hips forward and sinking half of his cock into his warrior's waiting, parted mouth. Hot and wet, closing eagerly around his shaft, it was a treat Inigo could not deny himself. His hold on Gerome's hair tightened a little as he sank deep into the waiting mouth, shuddering at the sensation flooding him as the hands on his ass tightened eagerly, greedily pulling him even deeper and closer in. He took Inigo into his throat without trouble, relishing in the grip on his hair and the feeling of his boyfriend's cock in him, of the lurid dance he was about to receive in the greatest of ways.
The same motion of his hips that made his shyness about dancing so tragic went to good use as he began to fuck his boyfriend's face, his entire body rolling as he made a show of the act, his thrusts not merely the frantic pushing forward but instead made agile, swaying and dancing as his cock passed Gerome's tightened lips, ran along the tongue slithering around in his mouth and lapping at the sensitive underside of his shaft as much as it could. He would dance in Gerome's lap soon, in addition to a great many other things, but this was how he liked to begin, the relief of a hot blowjob driven by all of the intensity of the moment, all the arousal Gerome was left with after watching him move. It drove him to get him off swiftly, to relieve his own needs after getting Inigo off first.
A finger was a given, Gerome encouraging him faster by sinking a single digit into Inigo's ass, pumping quickly as he moaned around the cock in his mouth. Inigo did not savagely hammer into his face the way he often did to him in turn, preferring something slow and finessed, leaving him salivating but not drooling all over himself or gagging. He liked it that way, eased down into something slower. He could savour Inigo's taste, the throbbing inside of his mouth, the way his body moved deliciously before his eyes. There was no need to do everything so quickly, and on nights framed within what was by and large the excuse of dance, they kept it more passionate and slow.
The secon finger was a bit of a surprise through, Inigo shuddering and bucking out of sync for a moment as he felt it inside of him, stretching him out a little more and zeroing in on his prostate with purpose. The song was in his head, a little too embarrassed to hum his tune as he made love to Gerome's mouth, though his moans and cries were rhythmic enough to let little bits of it slip, voice unable to keep from wavering a little to his tune. Gerome loved the way even his moans sounded musical, though he'd never let slip that he had pieced Inigo's song together after hearing him moan enough. It was embarrassment he felt he'd spare him, for his sake.
Tempo built steadily, never going too fast or too intense to become anything rough or heavy, still a dance, still light and driven by passion rather than lust or the desire to ravage him. But still, he picked up speed quickly enough, moving between the hot mouth around his cock and the strong, thick fingers pumping into his ass, and it didn't take much for him to come undone. He cried out, moaning as his thrusts hit their fever pitch, pulling out enough to let his ensuing cum flood Gerome's mouth, hitting his tongue and granting him the full force of his taste as a strong hand found the small of his back, helping to keep him upright as his knees wavered and weakened.
Pulling out slowly, Inigo's eyes were always on Gerome's mouth, amazed at how not a single drop spilled out most nights. Neither saliva nor cum dribbled from the corner of his mouth as Gerome dutifully swallowed everything and helped ease Inigo down into his lap, helping him recover from release with long, deep kisses until he was ready for his next song.