by L. A. Ashton
There, if he looked just close enough, under just the right light, he could make out the faintest edge of a contact lens. “Wow,” he breathed, as if this news had changed his life. Even something as simple as this—the realization of a flaw that wasn’t even truly a flaw—acutely humanized Cristian. It took Kaito a moment to realize he was staring, boldly and directly, right into Cristian Alvarez’s eyes, and he had leaned over the table far enough that his breath was tangibly hitting Cristian’s face.
He was just about to fall backward in an embarrassed rush when Cristian’s words froze him in place: “You know, all this time I’ve been thinking… Your eyes look quite familiar.” Cristian appeared unfazed, even from this distance.
“Um—”
“Not like this, but maybe…” Cristian reached forward and gently pulled the glasses from Kaito’s face. “Hmm…” Cristian touched his fingers to his chin in thought. He was considering Kaito with such focused attention that Kaito found it quite difficult to breathe.
“Well.” Kaito blinked as pretty much the entire world beyond Cristian’s face went fuzzy. “I’ve been at a lot of events…interviewed a lot of your peers…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never spoken to you, though.”
Kaito wasn’t sure if Cristian was listening to him or not. Cristian moved to press his fingertips to the hairline hidden beneath Kaito’s bangs. He slid them back, softly combing the hair off his face while grazing his fingers over Kaito’s scalp. “Maybe…” he mumbled.
Chills ran in the wake of Cristian’s touch, teasing every hair follicle on Kaito’s head into gooseflesh and vibrating down the whole of his spine. Kaito’s heart was going to explode in his chest. How could he finish the interview if his heart had exploded in his chest?
“It’s no matter, I suppose.” Cristian retracted his hand from Kaito’s hair and delicately placed the glasses back on his nose. Kaito was still frozen when Cristian smiled at him. “It only matters if I’m going to see those eyes again, right?”
“Sure,” Kaito agreed vaguely, plopping back into his seat. The vinyl squeaked.
“Will you be at the charity banquet tomorrow?” Cristian asked, leaning back.
“Yes,” Kaito answered. He adjusted his glasses; Cristian had set them a little low.
“Good,” Cristian said, suddenly grinning. “I look forward to seeing you. And also reading your article.”
Kaito huffed. It had started as a hysterical laugh of embarrassment, but he’d managed to tone it down to an excitable exhale. “You’ve been flattering me all night. Shouldn’t that be my role?”
Cristian’s eyes flinched into the slightest squint. “I don’t think either of us are really flatterers, are we?” Kaito was still attempting not to gape at that response when Cristian went on. “Your coverage of parties and banquets always reads like a storybook.” He rested his chin on his palm again, fingers gently curled upward. “I enjoy experiencing them through your eyes.”
Kaito couldn’t have asked for a better compliment. He stared at his drink, watching a single drop of condensation flee down the side of the glass. “Thank you, Cristian.”
“Mmm, but there will be so many princes there tomorrow…”
Kaito lifted his gaze to take in Cristian’s expression. His lips were curled up at the corners, eyes smoky.
“I wonder who will steal the leading role…” he mused. When he blinked, his eyelashes glittered. “Who will come out the hero?”
Elegant notes of piano music lifted from the folds of Cristian’s coat, and they both had to blink back to reality. Kaito recognized the music as the new piece written for Cristian’s free skate. Cristian delved into the fabric and glanced at the screen. “Oh, it’s that late already?”
Kaito reached forward to flip over his phone, squinting as the screen blinked to life. “Oh,” he responded, startled. “I had no idea…” he trailed off, but then he jolted in his seat and bowed his head. “I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time!”
“Kaito, don’t worry about it,” Cristian assured with a wave of his hand. He pressed the side button on his phone, and his coach’s picture went black. But the way Cristian had said his name echoed in his head—the drawn-out syllables, the perfectly cooed “to” tumbling over his lips on a delicate breath.
“I had a good time,” Cristian said with a bright smile. He collected his coat onto his lap, preparing to stand.
“As did I, of course,” Kaito said, springing upward and bumping the table once more. “Thank you for the great opportunity to interview you.”
“I hope your followers like the article,” Cristian said, sliding from the booth and rising to full height. He slipped his arms into the sleeves of his trench coat. “Is this the hotel you’re staying at?”
“Ah, yes.”
“It’s nice,” Cristian said. “Do they allow cats?”
“Oh!” Kaito looked around, as if that would somehow yield an answer. “I’m not sure. Did you want to bring Luna?”
Cristian rested his hands in his pockets. “I always want to bring Luna.”
Kaito thought of his own troop of cats at home, surely screaming at his neighbor for food in this very moment. “I can imagine.”
“She’s getting old, so a lot of travel isn’t good for her…” Cristian shrugged. “But anytime we have a longer stay somewhere I wish she was with me.”
Cristian’s face was so soft in this light. Gold edged the curve of his jaw and the cut of his lips, and sparkled against raven lashes and curled strands of hair. Kaito bowed to him before his gaze lingered any longer. “Thank you again for your time. Have a safe ride.”
Cristian extended his hand and Kaito shook it. “You too, Kaito. See you tomorrow.”
“Right.” Kaito nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Cristian walked past him toward the entrance, where he likely had a car waiting—it was chilly outside. Kaito spent the next few minutes quickly going over his notes and adding in details he wanted to make sure he remembered, and then he gathered all his things to leave. He stepped forward and knocked something across the floor, the item jingling as it rolled. He glanced down to see his house key and accompanying black cat keychain on the ground.
“How did you get here?” he asked the inanimate object, bending to pick it up. He dropped it into the side pocket of his bag and traversed part of the large ballroom toward the elevator.
“Kaito!”
Kaito’s attention shifted toward the voice, and he was met with a waving and beaming Beverly.
“Beverly!” Kaito responded happily. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an impressive bun, and her taupe skin glowed from beneath a collared white dress. Her pumps rendered her markedly taller than Kaito, so when she threw her arms around him in a hug, he laughed into her chest. “You look nice.” He spoke into the fabric of her dress.
Beverly forced him back an arm’s length to give him a bright once-over. “And you look even nicer!” Her smile went coy then, a single eyebrow arching upward. “How’d the interview with Cristian go?”
“I…it…” He sagged helplessly in her grip, but he was smiling.
Beverly laughed and slung her arm around his shoulders, taking them both a step forward. “How about we claim two stools at the bar?”
“Excellent idea.”
Beverly led the way to their seats and then held up two fingers to the bartender. She flashed Kaito another knowing grin and leaned forward on her elbows. “Tell me everything.”
“Well,” Kaito said, keeping his back ballroom-dancer straight. “He was just as beautiful and charming as you could ever imagine he’d be.”
“Nice, nice…”
“He’d previously read my work—”
“Kaito!” Beverly jumped in her seat to grab his arms. “That’s amazing!”
“And he’s seen the cat thread.”
Beverly laughed with full, head-thrown-back laughter. “Everyone has seen the cat thread—you can’t be surprised.”
“I live a careful
life of denial in regards to my Twitter account,” Kaito said. “And he… I don’t know…” The bartender delivered their drinks, and Kaito leaned forward to claim his. “He somehow felt both more and less real at the same time.”
Beverly steepled her fingers. “I’m already desperate to read your article.”
Kaito sipped his drink—a dangerously good Long Island—and rested his forehead in his hand. Cristian had read his work, and complimented him, and…
If he closed his eyes, he could still feel long fingers card through his hair.
“God,” Kaito groaned. “He’s so charming it’s cruel, Beverly. I’m lucky to have left alive!”
“Give me details!”
“Well I was a stupid stuttering mess, and then—there’s a chance I was super unprofessional.”
“Doubt it,” Beverly said. “You’re always a vision of professional politeness.”
“I got right in his face. He pushed my hair back and took off my glasses.
“What!” Beverly almost screeched. “This doesn’t sound unprofessional; this sounds like you were being hit on!”
“It wasn’t like that,” Kaito said, holding up a hand. “But my heart wanted it to be like that, so it was incredibly difficult to function.” He took another long pull from his drink and groaned. “The more I think about it, the more I realize how out of line I was! I was brain-dead in front of him—he probably thinks I’m just using my job to rub elbows with famous people!” There was a pause, and then he gasped. “He’s going to think I’m a starfucker.”
Beverly almost spit. “No one thinks you’re a starfucker—you’re literally making all of this up as you sit here!”
Kaito leaned back toward his drink and sucked it below the ice.
“You might wanna slow down there, cowboy,” Beverly said.
“How am I going to deal with seeing him tomorrow following all of—” Kaito motioned wildly with his hands. “—this?”
“‘This’ sounds a lot like ‘our wonderful flirting,’ so I have quite a few suggestions. One: make a move.”
“I can’t,” Kaito said, already shaking his head. “I was sweating through my shirt just trying to interview him.”
“I see no sweat.”
“It’s there.”
“You’re out of luck, Kaito Watanabe,” Beverly said. “I got an invite to the banquet tomorrow, which means I’ll be right beside you—right within harassing distance.”
“You’ll be working, just like I will—”
“My first question,” Beverly interrupted, sitting up straight on her chair and holding an invisible pen and paper. “Mr. Alvarez, are you at all interested in being wooed by an adorable, sweating Japanese man?”
“Stop,” Kaito groaned. “I proved to myself tonight I can’t handle a heady mix of business and pleasure.” He set his hands on the bar, tapping the left one. “Work,” he narrated. He then tapped the right one. “Pleasure.” He pushed them apart from each other.
“Hot gay journalist,” Beverly said, tapping her left hand against the bar. “Hot gay figure skater.” She tapped with the right. She clapped them together.
The bartender chuckled as she dried out a glass.
“You should never use the same adjective to describe both me and Cristian,” Kaito chided her. “You’re doing him a terrible disservice.”
“A matter of opinion,” Beverly retorted.
Kaito smiled, but it was no use. He knew where he was, and he knew where Cristian was, and it wasn’t even in the same universe. He sucked down his drink until slurping echoed against the ice.
“Another please,” he said.
“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” Beverly told him.
He ignored her even though the room had begun to take on a particular sort of tilt. “I’ll regret other things more.”
Somewhere in the depths of Kaito’s bag, his phone began to ring. The song was the one crafted for Cristian’s short program last year. When Kaito finally extricated his device, there was a strange number displayed on the screen. He squinted at it, pursing his lips in thought before swiping his thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hello?”
“Kaito? I’m so glad I got ahold of you. This is Cristian.”
“Uh.” Excellent response.
“I had to call my manager to get your number; I think I left my keys at the hotel.”
“Your keys?” Kaito asked, trying for actual words this time.
“Yeah. Did you see them, perhaps? It’s one key attached to a cat keychain. It must have fallen out of my coat.”
“A cat…” Kaito swallowed, suspicion creeping up his throat. “Let me look real quick.” He pulled his bag onto his lap, flipping it open and throwing notebooks onto the bar. He paused then, staring silently at the bottom of his bag. “I found it,” he said.
“Really? Excellent. Thank you, Kaito.”
“No problem.”
“Can I come by and get them from you?”
“Of course. I’m still near the hotel lobby, so I can meet you out front.”
“All right, be there in a few minutes!”
“Okay.” Kaito hung up, but his eyes remained anchored on the bottom of his bag.
“Kaito?” Beverly asked. “Something wrong?”
Kaito reached into his bag and pulled two items from the canvas folds. He opened his fist to showcase the items to Beverly, and her eyebrows climbed high.
In his hand were two sets of keys, and on each keyring was an identical black cat keychain.
Kaito pursed his lips. “Cristian Alvarez and I have matching keychains.”
Beverly hooted her laughter. “That’s amazing!”
Kaito stared at the two sets of keys, still in shock and denial. He should have noticed the differences—Kaito had an extra key, and his house key was embellished with a blue design for easy recognition. But the cat… He’d seen the cat and just assumed, like he thought any sane human might.
He thumbed the little figure on Cristian’s keys, the tiny black cat glancing playfully at its raised tail. It was less beaten up than Kaito’s version.
“How is he so perfect?” Kaito asked, maybe a bit miserably.
“No one is perfect,” Beverly told him definitively, laughter still in her voice. “I’m sure there’s something you’d find abrasive about him, like…” She hummed to herself. “Maybe he wears socks during sex. Or fervently hates hummingbirds without reason.”
“Hummingbird Hater Cristian Alvarez.”
“Exactly.”
“But he doesn’t!” Kaito insisted. The barstool felt like it was wobbling beneath him, but logic suggested Kaito was the wobbly one. “He doesn’t hate hummingbirds, and someone that beautiful is allowed to wear socks during sex.” He pressed his forehead against the bar in defeat. “Sometimes your feet get cold.”
“Could you please get my friend here a coffee?” Beverly asked the bartender.
“Coffee can’t save me now,” Kaito said to the wood of the bar.
“You should definitely tell him you guys have matching keychains; that’s too cute for words.”
“He’s too cute for words.” Beverly laughed in response, but in Kaito’s state, this felt like a disaster. Cristian Alvarez was a king among men, and he was coming here to see Kaito’s version of drunk and disorderly.
He had to remain calm—no stuttering, no flirting, no elbow rubbing. It was when the thought I’d rub much more than elbows passed through his head that he realized he was doomed.
Chapter Two
KAITO WATANABE WAS very visibly drunk.
Cristian tipped his head at him, lips moving into a smile as Kaito battled with the hotel doors in an effort to discern “push” from “pull.”
“I apologize,” Kaito said as he almost tripped through them.
Cristian just grinned at him, hands still in his coat pockets.
Kaito immediately started rifling through his bag. He mumbled something before pulling out a single key and
kitten keychain. The key flashed in the moonlight where it dangled from his hold.
“Drinking without me?” Cristian asked, holding out his palm for Kaito.
Kaito’s eyes were big. “Oh, well you could—I just—” Kaito had taken off his suit coat and eased the knot of his tie down low, undoing a couple of the top buttons. It was easier to see him like this; Cristian could tell exactly how slim his waist and hips were with the leather belt cinched tight around them, how milky and smooth the triangle of skin between his collarbones was. “You had places to be,” Kaito finally got out, holding the keys over Cristian’s palm. He dropped them.
Cristian closed his fingers around them and buried his hands back in his coat. “I did.”
Kaito chuckled. His bangs were splayed across his forehead, some of the stray strands slipping behind his glasses and covering his eyes. Was that why? Did he hide behind them?
“There’s always tomorrow,” Cristian said with a grin.
It took Kaito a few blinking moments to process that. Then there was a cooed “Ooh,” and his eyes fluttered down to the cement. “I try not to drink when I’m working…”
Cristian hummed and eyed him carefully. “Certainly you can’t work for the entire night? How late is late enough?”
Kaito smiled meekly. “I guess we’ll see?” His voice was as uncertain as it was pleased.
“I look forward to it,” Cristian told him. He started to take a step to the side, ready to climb back into the car that was waiting for him.
“Um, Cristian!” Cristian paused, turning his attention back to Kaito. Kaito slid his fingers through his hair, lifting the dark veil and showcasing the full shape of his face.
Without his hair in his face and his glasses on his nose, Kaito couldn’t hide the smooth and gentle lines of his features. Those features, rounded and flawless and seemingly untouched, would certainly gain him more attention.
Did he not want it?
“About the princes…”
Cristian raised his eyebrows. Kaito was referencing Cristian’s storybook comments from earlier—Cristian hadn’t been sure how soundly his metaphors had landed.