Chapter 6 #3
“That was part of it, but I do what I do because I like people. I like helping someone realize something about themselves they didn’t believe was possible, surpass insurmountable odds, even if all that means is getting across a room a little easier—or doing a ball change.
” He grinned. “I foster pets for the same reason. Because I love seeing the joy on someone’s face when they get paired with the perfect cat or dog.
That joy, those brief but important moments, they’re why I do what I do.
“What was it for you?”
“Huh?” Teddy startled at the question.
“What made you love dancing?” Finn restated.
“Oh. I guess….” Teddy unfocused his gaze, trying to think of the answer, and ended up closing his eyes as he recalled the last time he’d truly danced and lost himself in the movement. “Those moments when everything else faded away and it was just me and the motion.”
Finn’s silence made Teddy open his eyes, finding him smiling. “And what made you love it when you were showing someone else?”
“I didn’t always love that,” Teddy admitted, “but I suppose… getting one of them to find that moment, too, seeing it on their faces, in their body, until there was nothing but the dance.”
“You can still have that,” Finn said.
“Frankie—”
“For more than just Frankie.”
Teddy turned to poke at the pot stickers so none of them stuck to the pan but glanced back over his shoulder. “How? I can’t teach if I can’t show.”
“Says who? Teach me something.” Finn pushed from the island. “Right now. Something more complicated than what you taught Frankie, without showing me what to do.”
“What?” That was impossible.
“I mean it,” Finn said, grabbing Teddy by the hand and pulling him from the kitchen to the open area beside the sofa.
“Talk me through it, something doable but more involved than earlier that you wouldn’t be able to show me anyway because of your hip.
I warn you, though, I’ve been told I have two left feet, ball change and box step notwithstanding. ”
“Finn.” Teddy chuckled again, charmed by this incredible man but still certain they couldn’t do this without looking like idiots.
“Come on. Teach me.” That grin that had an edge of sadness behind it was still genuine and hopeful and so damn beautiful that it got the better of Teddy again.
“Fine, then we’ll work on your attitude.”
“What?” Finn giggled.
“You want to be one of my students?” Teddy said sternly. “Learn the terms and fix your posture.”
Finn snapped to attention immediately.
“Better. We’ll try front, back, and a turn. If you can’t do that, it’s hopeless.” Teddy looked Finn in the eyes seriously, impressed that Finn had taken on a serious visage as well, but he still had to tease, “When I say attitude, I do not mean your annoyingly optimistic outlook on life.”
That broke Finn’s reserve with a snicker, relaxing him again, but he also smartly straightened his stance afterward.
Teddy’s instincts were to lift his own leg to demonstrate what he wanted Finn to do, but that would hurt, at least be sore and not the best position for his healing hip, so he had to improvise and think of how to explain something he couldn’t show.
“We need to back up.” He grabbed Finn when he made to back up physically. “In the lesson. First, you need to learn how to plié.”
Attitude was the simple lift of the leg, either front or back with a bend at the knee and strong rotation at the hip to bring the leg waist level or higher.
Every action in ballet required the right springboard momentum, one movement leading into another to make the dance.
Attitude was easier starting from a plié.
Teddy explained all that, and every time he wanted to show something, he had to think of the words instead. How Finn needed to bend, curve his leg, lift, straighten, curl his spine. He took direction quite well, though, which Teddy tried not to think about with too much distraction.
Finn’s long legs made him an ideal dancer, the perfect specimen—but his coordination sucked, absolutely laughable. Even if Teddy had been able to show the moves, it would have taken him twice as long to teach Finn something that should have been easy.
Yet he didn’t find himself growing frustrated. Like with Frankie, he could see in Finn someone who honestly wanted to learn—maybe more so for Teddy’s sake—but it made him not want to give up either.
Plié, attitude lift forward, down, plié, attitude lift back, swing forward to step, step, step into an attitude turn, and plié to finish. Elegant and direct.
When Finn finally managed it without falling into Teddy’s arms or flailing back toward the sofa, it had been over half an hour. Only when noticing the clock did Teddy realize how hungry he was, but Finn, two left feet and all, had completed the moves like a pro.
“Still a terrible influence,” Teddy said when they were finally digging into their pot stickers, eating at the coffee table to watch the movie. “These should not have had to be warmed up in the microwave.”
“They still taste good.”
They did, but Teddy kind of wanted to push Finn over onto the cushions for how much he was grinning in triumph.
“See,” Finn said smugly, “it took longer, but you did it, and you can do it again.”
“Nice thought, but the city’s ballet company won’t accept that sort of teaching.”
“So teach around here. You know, I have a class I teach on calisthenics for people without full range of motion with the perfect candidates.”
“Like wheelchair bound, missing limbs…?” Teddy trailed off skeptically.
“Leprosy, things like that.”
“Funny.”
“You’re the one making it out to be something worth feeling shame over.”
“I don’t mean them.” Teddy felt the twinge of guilt he deserved for that, picking at his food. “I just hate feeling like an invalid.”
“Pretty sure most of my class would punch you in the nuts for calling them invalids.” Finn smiled brightly, making Teddy laugh again. “They’d also appreciate learning something new.”
He was so insistent, so amazingly positive when trying to help someone else, even though he wasn’t always successful at inspiring himself.
We are our own worst critics, Teddy thought, always.
“How do I teach people how to dance who can’t dance?”
“Same way you taught me and Frankie. You try, and no matter how many times you fail, you keep trying.”
“Is that a pact?” Teddy grinned at Finn wryly. “To not let either of us get so frustrated or afraid that we stop trying?”
The sadness peeked through Finn’s expression again, mostly because he seemed surprised, but then he warmed, smiling and raising his glass of wine, a red this time, and Teddy did the same. “I’ll drink to that.”
They clinked.
“You might be onto something with the teaching,” Teddy admitted after a pleasant sip, “but right now, I’m hungry and sore and ready for relaxation via a stupid, raunchy movie.” He indicated Wet Hot American Summer on his Netflix screen. “How about my life path waits until later?”
“You’re sore?” Finn asked with a playful side-eye. “Maybe after we eat, you’ll finally let me offer my massage skills.”
Teddy was not about to say no to that.
They started the movie, and after they’d cleaned their plates and set them in the sink, Finn had him lie on his front on the sofa while he sat poised on the edge and began massaging his calves. Not the sexiest of body parts, but then, Finn had still had Teddy strip off his jeans.
“It helps prevent blood clots,” Finn said, ever the professional, even as he paused to laugh at the film.
Teddy was more interested in the movement of Finn’s hands than what they were watching. Even Smudge and Nora had settled down, and he simply wanted to enjoy this.
“Then there’s potential scar tissue to loosen up or areas of overcontraction.
Like hamstrings.” Finn massaged up the back of Teddy’s legs.
“Quads.” He moved to the front, slipping between Teddy’s thighs and the cushion.
“Really anywhere that might be hyper-toned to protect you while healing.” Then, careful around the incision site from surgery, he moved back around to massage Teddy’s glutes.
“Hyper-toned, is it?” Teddy sighed into the feeling of Finn’s hands on his ass.
“Feels like it to me.”
Maybe he wasn’t being too professional right now.
Finn worked back down Teddy’s hamstrings, down his calves and up again, around once more to the quads so Teddy had to raise his hips to give him better access, and then slid one hand around his inner thigh and up between his legs.
Teddy was already hard, had been for about five minutes, but it wasn’t as if Finn wasn’t finding exactly what he was looking for.
“Feel like turning over?” Finn whispered.
Mourning the loss of Finn’s fingers as soon as they retracted, Teddy shifted swiftly to lie on his back. “Taking advantage of your patient, Doc?” he teased when Finn reached again to palm him through his underwear, tracing down his length.
“Just checking all pertinent areas for injury,” Finn teased back, lifting Teddy’s bandaged thumb with his other hand. “Like this. You poor thing. Pretty clumsy for someone so graceful.”
“Asshole.”
“Now, now, I thought we agreed the asshole was you.”
Teddy could only half chuckle, breath catching and speeding up as Finn squeezed and started to stroke him more rhythmically. Teddy’s thumb he handled with gentler care.
“Mmm, maybe I should check the other one, just to be sure you haven’t hurt that one too.” He set Teddy’s hand down and took up the other, bringing the wound-free thumb to his lips and sucking it into his mouth.
Teddy moaned, hips starting to arch into Finn’s touch with his muscles tightening.
Which caused him to hiss at a spike of pain, not as bad as a few weeks ago, but still aggravating.
“I got you,” Finn said quietly, the movie mostly forgotten now.
“You just need to relax. Who better to know ways around your injury than your physical therapist?” His grin was devious as he licked around Teddy’s thumb and then moved to suck down the next finger, eventually releasing it with a lewd pop.
“I have some ideas. We don’t have to rush.
How about tonight, I make this really easy on you? ”
Setting Teddy’s hand down again, Finn paused his strokes to reach for the waistband of Teddy’s shorts.
Teddy lifted to accommodate, happy to allow Finn to slide them down his legs.
Finn pushed up his shirt a little, too, stirring that unfair voice of insecurity in Teddy’s mind to remind him of the pudge there, not terrible, but not the flat expanse of muscle he used to have.
He instinctively sucked in his stomach at Finn’s touch but felt silly when Finn fluttered his fingers with an expression of undiluted want, not seeming to see anything he didn’t like.
His other hand curled around Teddy’s base, lips parting at his descent to suck Teddy down like he’d done to his finger.
Teddy wanted to tighten his muscles so badly, but that’s what would hurt. He had to relax like Finn had said and let him do the work.
And oh, what careful, wonderful work, one hand always at Teddy’s base or massaging his balls, the other petting his stomach or sliding around to more thoroughly massage his glutes again and down his thighs, healing him and pleasuring him in the same actions.
Over the weeks, Teddy had managed a few messy, furtive releases in the shower, but this was the first time in a long time he’d had a partner, especially someone with such a talented tongue.
Finn sucked and hollowed his cheeks, the scruff of his facial hair tickling Teddy’s skin, as he picked up the pace in time with Teddy’s breaths growing shorter.
As a warning that he was getting close, Teddy dragged his fingers through Finn’s hair and tugged, prompting Finn to grin at him and switch to using his hand, pumping fast and slick and tight—
Teddy finished with a gasp and all-over shudder.
He had so needed that.
“Think you’ll be more relaxed for Friday now?” Finn said wickedly, using a napkin from dinner to clean his hand and Teddy’s stomach.
Teddy chuckled, a puddle on the cushions, content as a—he chuckled again—cat.
“Oh yes, but we’re not done. I need to return the favor.”
“There aren’t too many positions that’ll be nice for your hip,” Finn said, leaving the soiled napkin on the coffee table.
“I can think of one. I just need to sit.” Teddy did so, shimmying back into his shorts, but when Finn tried to settle onto the cushion beside him, he shook his head and nodded for Finn to stand. “And you need to work on your balance.”
Teddy wouldn’t have to move his hip at all in this position, with Finn standing in front of him, and all Finn had to do was hold on, which he did with parted, reddened lips and a hand lightly resting at the back of Teddy’s neck.
He moaned just as prettily as Teddy had imagined he would, legs quaking and cheeks growing flushed until he finished with a scratch of his nails up Teddy’s scalp.
Afterward, they started the movie over, since they had definitely not been paying attention.