Archer inhaled. Fuck, he did smell good. Forest and sunshine. Mateo’s nostrils flared too. Archer figured he smelled like sweat.

“Can you feel how he wants you?” Stewart asked, voice a low, urgent simmer.

He could, in fact, feel every inch of Mateo’s body, even though most of it wasn’t actually touching him, but it was only a breath away, radiating heat and muscle and power. Mateo’s gaze dipped to his lips and back up, eyes flashing with desire.

“Yes,” Archer whispered.

Stewart leaned in. “Say it.”

Their eyes were locked. “He wants me.”

Stewart’s voice dropped to a hush. “Then fucking dance like it.” He whirled, his sweater flapping like a cape. “And that goes for all of you! Again!”

“He’s right, you know,” Mateo murmured as Stewart clomped back down the stairs. “The audience has to believe the chemistry. These dances, they have to be sexy.” Mateo was still holding Archer, but now he was looking at him like he was just some dumb kid who couldn’t do his job.

Archer stepped back out of his arms. “Got it,” he snapped, face hot. He turned and marched to his place on stage right. Alright … You want sexy? I’ll give you fucking sexy.

When the music started, Archer began his walk. He attached his gaze to Mateo’s, imagining it was the face on his bedroom wall. He rolled his hips. He dragged his tongue along his lower lip. He didn’t look away. This time when Mateo took him in their hold, Archer tilted his head a smidge, parted his lips, looked at Mateo through lowered lashes. He had imagined this moment many times before. All that was left to do was kiss.

The duet began. Each pause, he pressed his chest to Mateo’s. He pushed his foot hard against Mateo’s leg for each caress. When they stopped in hold, he let out a faint moan. Mateo’s eyes widened when he felt the vibration in his chest.

“How was that?” Archer whispered into Mateo’s ear when they hit their finishing pose. He tried not to grin when Mateo shivered.

“Good,” Mateo rasped. He let go of Archer like he was a hot poker. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Good. That was good. Better. Uh.” He looked around. “Can we take five?” He bolted for his water bottle.

Archer found Stewart watching him.

The bastard winked.

“How was the tango?” Betty said in a deeply meaningful way, bumping Archer’s hip with hers on their way out the theater door.

He suppressed a grin. “Fine.”

“‘Fine,’” she repeated. “Yeah, if by ‘fine’ you mean ‘the eye-sex was great, thanks.’”

Archer tried to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about for a hot second, then the grin won. “Okay, more than fine.”