Sex on the Beach Christmas Style

What he saw was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen in his entire life. At least, not in person. He didn't count the pretty men that he lusted after on the movie screen. Those men didn't count-they were actors, they were playing a role, and they were far away, while this man was right here and right now. And quite beautiful. He had the most liquid brown eyes Scott had ever seen, like pools of melted chocolate.
The longer he stared into them, the more he lost the ability to speak. But at the moment, conversation seemed to be optional. Scott decided he'd just watch this veritable god pass by, and maybe just drool over him a little. Or a whole lot. And then turn and watch him walk away, and sneak a peek at what was undoubtedly an amazing ass. It would be a very lovely final image to take with him. Except that it didn't work like that at all.
The man didn't walk by him. He stopped directly in front of him. The gorgeous stranger held out his hands toward Scott, palms up. Scott felt the rhythm of the native drums echoed by his pounding heart. That and this man's proximity. Both were wreaking havoc with his brain. Both brains. Without hesitation, Scott slid his hands inside the other's. Walking backwards, Grigori drew Scott along with him, onto the dance floor.
This had been an entirely impromptu move on his part. The insistent pounding of the drums echoed in his own heartbeat. He felt incredibly alive, exhilaratingly so. And irresistibly drawn to Scott, for reasons he didn't bother to analyze. They fell into step together, an impromptu tango with a distinctively Hawaiian twist. Scott was grateful for the dance lessons he'd taken. They'd been intended as a couple's exercise, something to sweeten his and Todd's relationship, but Todd had backed out at the last minute.
Since they were already paid for, the practical Scott had gone alone. And now his thriftiness was paying off.