He should probably go home. Aiden’s over the whole party scene, anyway. He’s nearly pushing thirty, and he’s tired. He’s over the falseness of LA, and he just wants to hang out at his apartment, maybe nurse a six-pack and watch something ridiculous on Netflix.
His best friend Clara would tell him that he’s being a wet towel, and maybe he is, but being boringly single at a huge New Year’s Eve party would put a damper on anyone’s night.
Aiden is draining the rest of his drink when someone lets out a high-pitched yelp, and suddenly he’s smacked into the stony balustrade in front of him, something wet hitting his forearm. He’s bent over the side a bit from the impact, and he nearly loses his drink to a solid ten stories below, but mercifully he still has the cup in his hand.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” some high-pitched woman cries, and when Aiden finally gets a glimpse over his shoulder he’s greeted with a tall brunette, wearing a long white evening gown that looks like it’s been painted onto her body.
The slit is so high up her thigh, it exposes a bit of hip which makes Aiden question if she’s even able to wear underwear with it. Then some other woman is coming over and sweeping her away, echoing the apology and taking her drink from her.
From the way the brunette is wobbling in her Louboutins, it’s clear that she’s definitely shit-faced. So Aiden’s been attacked by a drunk girl’s drink.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
He’s definitely too old for this.
“You alright there?” a deep voice asks. Aiden does a half spin and comes face to face with a man who’s leaning against the balustrade, his messily styled blond hair moving to the side as he tilts his head to look down at the damage of Aiden’s shirt. “I can get that dry cleaned for you if you want. I don’t think she knows how to put two feet in front of each other to save her life, so you’re the innocent bystander to the pileup.”
Aiden does a quick once over and his mouth grows dry. The man’s dove grey dress pants are pressed with a sharp crease down his leg, and even in the darkness of the night Aiden can see that his black dress shoes are shined. His white dress shirt is undone at the neck revealing a sharp collarbone. His whole outfit is clearly tailored, and it fits against his slim frame in all the right places, leaving very little to the imagination.
Heat fills in Aiden’s stomach, radiating down to his toes.
“Or I could replace it?” The man offers, and Aiden blinks several times before he opens his mouth to formulate a sentence.
“No, uh, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, that chick was clearly drunk off her ass and needs to take off those stilettos, but no, you don’t have to pay professionally to get this cleaned. I’ve had it for years.”
Aiden internally groans. He’s babbling, which is what he does when he’s nervous and his dick is playing tricks on him, because it’s been a long time since he’s had an orgasm that didn’t involve searching the internet for inspiration and his hand.
The guy next to him chuckles softly and nods in understanding.
“I get it, man. Trust me, if I had it my way, I would be in a pair of jeans and a band tee, but I’m technically working right now, so I have to look the part.” He lifts a teasing eyebrow. “How’ve I done?”
Aiden does another visual sweep down, taking his time now that he has permission. He doesn’t know who this guy is, but he’s pretty certain that he’s flirting with him.
At least he hopes he is.
He’s not had nearly enough liquid courage for this and is so out of practice. So he taps into his younger twenties’ self, and begs for a little help.
He begins to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt, rolling up the wet sleeve first and nods approvingly. “Not bad,” he says, taking his time to sweep his eyes up to the other man’s face, focusing on his mouth a bit longer than necessary before settling on his eyes. “Not bad at all.”
The grin that spreads across the man’s face is sincere and wolfish. Definitely flirting.
“I’m Blake,” he says, offering a hand and Aiden takes it. It’s warm and smooth to the touch.
“Aiden.” They continue to shake for a long time, Blake’s eyes focused on Aiden. He feels exposed, and it zips a thrill down his spine.
Blake leans in a little, the grin growing. “Nice to meet you, Aiden. So are you here for business or pleasure?”
Aiden huffs a humorless laugh. “Neither, really.” When Blake raises a curious eyebrow he amends, “My friend’s one of the hosts for this fancy shindig.”
“Ah,” Blake says understandingly. “So which half? Luke or Jesse?”
“Jesse. We work together at the same studio.”
Blake snaps a finger in recognition. “I thought so! I didn’t want to make an assumption and then end up being wrong.” He wrinkles his nose in a self-deprecating way. It shouldn’t stir up Aiden’s insides like it does. “LA can be pretty harsh about mistaken identities.”
“For sure,” Aiden agrees with a smile. “But it’s also really hard to do when everyone looks like a carbon copy of each other. There’s a reason why the eighty Chris’s get the shit they get.”
At this Blake tilts his head back and laughs, his hand flattening on the balcony to keep his balance. “You have no idea how much of a nightmare that is when you work in Public Relations.”
“I do work with a lot of entitled musicians on a daily basis, I think I have a fair idea.”
They continue back and forth like this for a while, and Aiden finds himself relaxing more and more as the night goes on. Blake flicks a finger up at a server, whispers something in her ear and slips her a bill that Aiden’s pretty sure is a fifty, and watches her flick a glance at Aiden with a smile before she disappears. When she returns she’s holding two brightly colored shots that reflect brilliantly off of the lights outside, along with two other drinks on the tray.
“To a new year,” Blake says before clinking his glass with Aiden’s.
“A new year.”
The drink is sugary and bitter but it goes down easily, leaving a lingering taste of citrus in its wake. Aiden finds himself thinking about whether Blake’s tongue would taste the same in his mouth.
Blake waits for Aiden to place the shot glass back on the server’s tray before handing him one of the drinks that they’ve been passing around all night.
“What was that?” Aiden asks once he starts to feel the warmth spreading through his whole body.
“Just a little something I asked Becca to make. I promise it won’t leave you making any mistakes.”
“I don’t know if you can keep that kind of promise,” Aiden says, with a grin, and Blake chuckles.
The music shifts inside, and the crowd goes wild. Blake takes another sip of his drink, tilting his head to the inside. “Up for a dance? I really like this song.”
Blake’s enthusiasm is infectious and Aiden can’t make himself say no. His heart beats faster as he sets his glass down and nods, and when Blake offers his hand he takes it again, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the stupid grin that threatens to spill over.
The party is in full swing now, the dance floor filled to the brim. Blake weaves through the crowd like he owns it, making a sharp left when someone nearly stumbles into them, and when he finds a perfect spot under the swirling lights, he pulls Aiden towards him so their hips align with each other.