Chapter 8: Dancing under the Wedding Lights

The wedding hall was a breathtaking sight, decked out in soft white lilies. The colors of the season blend seamlessly with the elegant atmosphere. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversations, laughter, and the soft tinkling of champagne glasses as guests moved through the room. The wedding of Jade and Austin was the event of the year, a celebration that brought together friends, family, and colleagues to witness the union of two souls deeply in love.

Near the entrance, Mattias, who was Austin's college friend, stood casually, greeting old acquaintances and enjoying the lively atmosphere. Austin's mother, Aunt Saleena, adored Mattias. Just a few days ago, she had tried to set him up with her friend's daughter, a match that Mattias had politely but firmly refused. He was openly bisexual and even took pride in it.

The music shifted slightly as more guests arrived, Eric Yang, clad in a sharp black tuxedo with an emerald peak collar and matching inner lining, walked into the room with the kind of composed grace that made heads turn. The jacket hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, tapering down to his slim waist, the emerald detailing adding a touch of sophistication that complemented his striking features. His dark hair, tipped with a subtle blue hue, was slicked back, revealing the sharp angles of his face and the cold, unreadable expression he always wore.

As Eric entered, the chatter in the room died down slightly, replaced by whispers and admiring glances from both men and women alike. His presence commanded attention effortlessly, drawing people in with a magnetic pull that he either didn't notice or simply chose to ignore. Mattias, standing near the front, couldn't help but whistle, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Damn, Eric, you clean up well."

Eric's eyes flicked to Mattias, who was leaning casually against the marble pillar, his expression full of mischief. But before he could respond, Mattias's grin widened, his gaze shifting to something—or someone—behind Eric. Following Mattias's line of sight, Eric's eyes landed on Zeke, who had just entered the hall from the opposite side.

Eric's breath caught for a brief moment, but it wasn't out of admiration. Zeke was dressed in an emerald-green tuxedo, similar to Eric's own. The jacket was a mirror image of Eric's, only the colors were inverted. Where Eric's was black with emerald accents, Zeke's was emerald with black detailing. The sight made Eric's stomach twist in irritation.

The room around them seemed to come alive with whispers, people pointing out the uncanny resemblance between their outfits. To the untrained eye, it looked like they had coordinated their attire, as if they were a couple attending the wedding together.

Mattias, noticing Eric's discomfort, couldn't resist teasing him further. "Looks like you and Zeke are more in sync than you thought, huh?" he said, his voice full of amusement.

Eric's gaze hardened, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to maintain his cold, stoic expression. "This is just a coincidence," he said, his voice low and clipped.

"Coincidence or not," Mattias continued, undeterred, "you two are definitely the talk of the evening now.."

Eric's eyes flicked back to Zeke, who was now making his way through the crowd. Beneath the polished exterior, Eric could see the smirk playing on Zeke's lips, the satisfaction in his eyes as he caught Eric's gaze. Of course, he did this on purpose, Eric thought bitterly, his irritation growing with every step Zeke took towards the stage.

As Zeke approached, he was welcomed warmly by Austin's parents, especially by Aunt Saleena. "Zeke, darling, you look absolutely dashing," She exclaimed as she embraced him, her eyes twinkling with joy. "But tell me, did you and Eric plan these matching outfits, or is this just fate working its magic?"

Zeke's smirk widened, and he shot a glance at Eric, who was standing a few feet away with Mattias. "I suppose you could say it's fate," Zeke replied smoothly, his tone laced with dark amusement. Eric's cold expression remained unchanged, though the irritation in his eyes was palpable. He could feel the weight of Zeke's gaze on him, taunting him with every passing second. Aunt Saleena chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful banter. "Well, whatever it is, you two certainly know how to make an entrance."

Zeke laughed, a dark, velvety sound that made Eric want to throw up. As the exchange continued, Eric turned his attention back to Mattias, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Don't even start," Eric warned, his voice cold and clipped.

"Oh, come on, Eric. You have to admit, this is hilarious," Mattias teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I mean, who would've thought you and Zeke would end up looking like a couple at a wedding?" Eric's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "It's not funny." He shot him a withering look, but Mattias only laughed.

Meanwhile, Zeke had finished his conversation with Aunt Saleena and was now making his way towards the stage. As Zeke approached the stage, Aunt Saleena turned her attention to Eric, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Eric, dear, you look absolutely handsome tonight.'' Eric forced a polite smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You look lovely as well." he replied, his tone cool and detached.

She laughed softly. "Well, you both look wonderful. But you know, you boys should really think about settling down. A wedding is the perfect place to find a partner, after all." Eric's smile faltered slightly, and he quickly diverted his gaze, his discomfort evident. He didn't respond.

As the ceremony finally began, Jade and Austin took their places at the altar, the room falling into a hushed silence. Jade, dressed in a pristine white suit, looked every bit the part of a fairytale prince. His eyes were soft, full of warmth and love as he gazed at Austin, who stood beside him in a matching suit, his expression mirroring Jade's. The vows they exchanged were heartfelt and beautiful. As they sealed their vows with a tender kiss, the room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few tears.

Eric, standing off to the side, watched the scene unfold with a mix of emotions he couldn't quite place. Mattias, sensing Eric's inner turmoil, nudged him playfully. "You okay, man? You've been awfully quiet."

Eric shot him a brief glance, his expression unreadable. "I'm fine." Mattias did not say anything afterwards.

 -------------------------------------------

Zeke stood on the fringes of the crowd, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his neck strained against the collar of his shirt. He hated weddings! With a sigh he adjusted his tie, eyes flicking across the room until they landed on Eric.

Eric was everything Zeke despised: cold, composed, with a perpetual air of disdain. Even now, in the midst of a joyous celebration, Eric looked as if he were above it all, his expression unreadable. There was something unnervingly perfect about him, like a statue carved from ice.

Zeke sneered as he watched Eric accept a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Zeke could feel the heat rising in his chest, a familiar fire that fueled his every interaction with the man. Eric didn't particularly enjoy weddings, but Jade and Austin were colleagues—friends even—and it would have been rude not to attend.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment from the whole affair, like he was watching everything through a pane of glass. He sighed softly, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes scanning the room for something—anything—to hold his attention.

Then he saw Mattias approaching, a smile on his face and a glass of champagne in hand. Eric felt a small tug at the corner of his lips, a ghost of a smile that only Mattias seemed able to coax out of him.

"Hey, you're not going to spend the entire night sulking in the corner, are you?" Mattias teased as he came to stand beside Eric.

"I'm not sulking," Eric replied, his tone as cool and measured as ever. "I'm observing."

"Right, observing." Mattias chuckled, taking a sip of his champagne. He nudged Eric's arm playfully. "Come on, dance with me. Loosen up a little."

Before Eric could protest, Mattias had already taken his glass and set it aside, pulling him towards the dance floor, the glass still in his hands. The music was slow and soft, a romantic melody that seemed to wrap around them as they moved to the rhythm. Eric allowed himself to be led, though his body was stiff.

As they swayed together, Mattias kept the mood light, making small talk and cracking jokes that made Eric's tension gradually ease. But then, as they were moving across the floor, Mattias stumbled slightly, his hand jerking and sending his champagne sloshing over the rim of his glass and onto the suit of a nearby guest. The man stopped in surprise, looking down at the wet spot on his clothes with a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

"Oh shit," Mattias muttered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry, man. I'll clean this up."

The man waved him off, but Mattias was already heading towards the bathroom, mumbling something about getting some napkins. Eric watched him go, his brief smile fading as he was left alone in the middle of the dance floor.

He was about to retreat to the sidelines again when a voice called out to him. "Eric, darling, why are you standing all alone?"

Eric turned to see Jade's mother approaching him, her eyes sparkling with the aftereffects of too much champagne. She was a lovely woman, warm and motherly, and she had taken a particular liking to Eric during the wedding planning process.

Before he could answer, she glanced around the room and spotted Zeke, who was also standing alone near the edge of the dance floor, his eyes narrowed and his posture stiff. "Oh, and there's Zeke! You boys shouldn't be standing idle at a wedding. Go, dance! Enjoy yourselves!"

Eric's eyes met Zeke's across the room, and he felt a flicker of irritation at the thought of dancing with him. Zeke was the last person he wanted to be around right now, especially after the tension that had been simmering between them all night. But Jade's mother was insistent, and soon she was shooing both of them towards the center of the dance floor, her cheerful laughter trailing behind them. Zeke gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move. There was no way out of this without making a scene, and the last thing he wanted was to give Eric the satisfaction of seeing him squirm.

As they reached each other, the air between them crackled with an unspoken animosity. Zeke's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes dark with something Eric couldn't quite place, while Eric's expression remained cold and impassive. Zeke wanted to refuse, to walk away and leave Eric standing there like a fool. But something in him tied him to the ground. With a curt nod, Zeke extended his hand, trying to ignore the heat that simmered just beneath his skin. Eric's eyes met Zeke's for a fraction of a second—a cold, unfeeling glance before he extended his hand, the gesture as begrudging as it was unavoidable. Zeke's fingers closed around Eric's hand with a firm grip. He placed a hand on Eric's waist, the contact sending a jolt of something electric through his veins. He hated how natural it felt.

The room seemed to contract around them, the music growing softer, the light dimming, creating a cocoon of isolation for the two antagonists. Eric moved with mechanical precision. His hand rested lightly on Zeke's shoulder, a gesture that was more functional than intimate. He kept his gaze fixed just past Zeke's shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes. The dance itself was a series of rigid turns and steps, performed with a grace that seemed at odds with the coldness of their interaction.

Zeke hated the way Eric made him feel, hated the way his composure never faltered. He wanted to break through that icy exterior, to see something—anything—crack. And so, as they twirled across the floor, Zeke pressed his foot down on Eric's with deliberate force.

Eric winced, but only slightly, his lips thinning into a hard line. "Childish, don't you think?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

"Can't help it," Zeke retorted, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I guess I'm just not as good at pretending to be perfect as you are."

Eric's grip on Zeke's hand tightened almost imperceptibly, a warning. "Careful, Zeke. You're not the only one who knows how to play dirty."

Zeke leaned in closer, his breath warm against Eric's ear. "Oh, I'm counting on it," he whispered, his voice dripping with challenge.

"You think you are good at this?" Eric remarked. Zeke scoffed, his grip tightening slightly. "I'm good at a lot of things. You'd know that if you ever paid attention."

Zeke was in turmoil. Every brush of Eric's fingers against his waist, every shift of their bodies, seemed to stir something dark and uncomfortable within him. His heart pounded furiously in his chest. Why is this affecting me like this? Zeke thought, frustration gnawing at the edges of his composure. Why does being this close to him feel like it's tearing me apart?

The music swelled, and they moved in perfect synchrony, their bodies entwined in a dance that was as much a battle as it was an art. Zeke could feel his pulse quickening, the heat of anger mixing with something else.

As the dance neared its end, Zeke felt a strange sense of reluctance, as if he didn't want this moment—this twisted, hate-fueled connection—to end. But then the music slowed, and they came to a stop with Zeke still staring at Eric's face.

When the music finally ended, Eric stepped back with his characteristic detachment. He released Zeke's hand with a finality that felt like a dismissal, his gaze already shifting away as if the dance had been nothing more than a mere inconvenience.

Zeke stood there, his heart still racing, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The intense proximity, the strained interaction, had left him feeling raw and exposed. Eric walked away from the dance floor leaving Zeke standing alone in the center of the room.

Damn him, Zeke thought, anger and frustration boiling beneath the surface. Zeke remained rooted to the spot, the remnants of the dance clinging to him like a shadow, as he watched Eric blend into the crowd, his form gradually disappearing from view.

The wedding had been a grand affair, filled with laughter, tears, and heartfelt moments. As the evening drew to a close, the guests began to trickle out, their faces flushed with the warmth of the celebrations and the buzz of champagne. Mattias stood by the exit, adjusting his tie and glancing around the room. His usual playful demeanor was tempered by a rare moment of quiet reflection. He spotted Eric across the room, engaged in a brief, formal conversation with one of the other guests. Mattias sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Ready to head out?" he called over to Eric.

Eric nodded, finishing his conversation and making his way to Mattias. As he approached, Mattias couldn't resist one last tease.

"You know, you and Zeke really did look like a couple in those suits," he said with a sly grin.

Eric's expression remained neutral, but his eyes flickered with a hint of irritation. "Not now, Mattias. It's been a long night."

Mattias raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just trying to lighten the mood."

Together, they made their way out of the ballroom, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffy heat of the celebrations. They walked in silence to the parking lot, the sounds of the city night humming around them. "Man, I am tired. Let's get out of here." Mattias said with exhaustion. They went to the car and drove away from the venue, the conversation between them was minimal, the silence comfortable. Meanwhile, Zeke sat in his car, parked a few blocks away. He had left the wedding early, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over him since the dance. The suit he wore felt stifling now, a reminder of the tense, charged moment he had shared with Eric.

Why did I even do that? Why did I wear the same suit? He wondered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Why does he get under my skin like that?

He couldn't stop thinking about the beach holidays that were fast approaching. The thought of being in such close proximity to Eric for an extended period filled him with a mix of dread and anticipation. Zeke leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The cool leather of the car seat was a stark contrast to the heated turmoil inside him.

As Mattias and Eric's car disappeared into the night, Zeke started his engine, ready to drive away from the remnants of the evening. But as he pulled away from the curb, the uneasy feeling remained, a dark cloud that followed him into the night, foreshadowing the complex, unresolved tensions that lay ahead.