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“Decent sized dick? Suck it? Fuck me,” Dax grumbles and I can’t help but grin.
“Any song preference?” York asks as we step into the studio. He winks at me, loving that his ribbing is making Dax uncomfortable. It’s certainly helping to lighten my mood.
I shake my head. “You choose.”
York kisses my knuckles then wanders over to the sound system. I feel Dax’s hand rest on my lower back. “How does he do that?” I ask, referring to York’s ability to remain so fucking positive.
“We all have our roles to play, Kid. York’s the optimist. During times like this he keeps us distracted with his banter and his stupid fucking jokes. That’s why Xeno swapped places with him. He knew you’d need the distraction, and you already know that Xeno is a moody motherfucker.”
“Yeah, I can see that now. So, what’s your role then?”
Dax shrugs. “I’m just the big guy who can fight.”
“No way, man,” York says, overhearing our conversation and suddenly becoming very serious. “You're the one we can count on to be there no matter what. You’re theonlyone who can keep Xeno in check. You’re the fucking rock.”
Dax laughs. “First you’re giving my cock a nickname and now this? Anyone would think you love me, York.”
York plants his hand on his hip and gives him a sassy smile. “Of course, I fucking love every big, alpha-hot hole, inch of you.”
“Shut the fuck up, dude, and choose a damn song.”
“Ohh, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” York retorts, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve missed this banter between them. It warms my heart like nothing else. Xeno was right, I needed York here tonight.
“Jeez, alright. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,big boy.”
I swallow a laugh as York attaches his mobile phone to the sound system, resting it on the table. He doesn’t press play straight away. Instead, he pushes against a panel in the wall that I hadn’t noticed the last time I was in this studio, given I was preoccupied with Dax. It opens up to reveal a cupboard. He grabs two pairs of tap shoes from a built-in shoe rack and turns around grinning.
Dax groans. “I ain’t tap dancing.”
“These aren’t for you,” York says, handing one pair to me whilst he puts on the other.
“When did you—?”
“I bought them a week or so ago. Couldn’t have Zayn one-upping me…” he jokes, his gaze softening when he sees the look on my face. “I wanted to buy something nice for you too. These are the best money can buy. They’re made out of the softest Italian cowhide leather. I think it’s all the pasta those Italian cows eat on the daily.”
“Err, genius, cows eat grass.” Dax chuckles.
“Pasta, grass, whatever. I swear it’s like dancing on air.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything…” York takes my hand, looking down at me. “Dance with me, Titch?”
“Of course I’ll dance with you.” Rising up onto my tiptoes, I plant a quick peck against his lips, but when I pull back, he captures my head and deepens the kiss.
“York,” I mutter against his mouth, wanting so badly to lean into him, to forget about what’s going on this evening, but I can’t. I can’t. I pull away, my cheeks flushing with heat.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Dax rumbles, a lopsided smile pulling up his lips as he strolls over to a bench pushed up against the mirror and sits, watching us both. My heart stutters and I’m reminded of that time together on Xeno’s bed when we were kids.
“Another time?” I say softly, because as much as I love York and Dax, that’s not the kind of distraction I need, not whilst the other pieces of my heart are doing dangerous things in the name of the Skins.
“You better believe it, Titch,” York responds. Stepping back, he swipes a hand through his hair, blowing out a long breath.
“Blue balls ain’t a good look on you,” Dax says, cracking up.
“Fuck off,” York mumbles, but he’s grinning too.
Pulling on my new tap shoes, I perform a quick ball shuffle change, testing them out. “They’re perfect.”
