by L. A. Ashton
Kaito still wasn’t looking at him, and a single strand of hair loosed itself from his fingers and fell over his forehead. “You’re already the king, so…” He smiled, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks burning red even under the cool of moonlight. “It’s not even a contest, is it?”
The seam of Cristian’s lips broke, parting on lost words.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Kaito said, giving him a small bow, followed by a wave, followed by him stumbling back toward the hotel doors.
Cristian watched him leave, his head full of everything and nothing.
Chapter Three
KAITO’S PLAN NOT to drink wasn’t going especially well.
This was, in large part, due to his compulsion to nervously sip at his cocktail every time he caught himself staring at Cristian. Kaito had woken up with a headache, but for better or worse, all the memories were still there—him accidentally stealing Cristian’s keys, him lamenting to Beverly, him calling Cristian a king…
“Go dance with him,” Beverly urged. She had kept her promise tonight; she was remarkably unsubtle.
Kaito avoided her stare. “I can’t,” he hissed, voice caught in an echo in his glass. “I’m too weak.”
“Evening, Kaito.” Beverly and Kaito both turned their attention upward to regard Jason De Luca. He was tall—even taller than Cristian—with arms and legs that went on for miles. He was a force of nature on the ice and in person, a force strong enough to not only win Cristian’s attention, but also his friendship. They had been known as friendly rivals for years now.
“Evening, Jason,” Kaito responded fondly.
Jason brought his attention to Beverly. “I don’t believe I know you.” He extended his hand.
“Beverly Weston,” Beverly answered with a smile as she took his hand. “Journalist.”
Jason tipped his head to the side. “A journalist, hmm? I’d better watch my tongue.”
There was a flicker of light behind Beverly’s eyes. “You’d better watch your everything.”
Jason’s eyebrow twitched upward in the slightest, his easy smile curling in interest.
“Oh God,” Kaito mumbled. Cristian had turned his attention toward them, and the moment he saw Jason, his eyes lit up.
“Cristian,” Jason called gently, beckoning to him with a small wave.
Cristian immediately parted from his previous group, crossing the ballroom with long strides. The closer he came, the lower Kaito sent his eyes. They wound up carefully observing the group’s semicircle of loafers and heels.
“Evening, Jason, Kaito,” he greeted.
Kaito bowed his head and attempted a greeting, but his response was probably inaudible over the lilting music in the background.
“Beverly Weston,” Jason introduced, motioning to Beverly.
“Oh yes, I’ve heard of you!” Cristian chirped.
Beverly was stunned. “Me? Really?”
“Yes. You interviewed my rink mate recently, I believe.”
“Oh,” Beverly laughed. “Yes I did. Gregory is quite a guy.”
“He’s quite something,” Jason agreed. He leaned down, green eyes shining in the gold lighting of the room. “Say, you’ve never tried to interview me.”
“Well.” Beverly turned back to him, chin canted upward just enough to fix him with a smile. “We journalists typically have to climb our way to the top.”
Jason’s expression didn’t change, but there was something bright and sparkling behind his irises. “What if I offered you a foothold?”
Beverly raised her glass just in front of her mouth. “I’d appreciate it.”
Kaito tried not to openly gawk at them. The two of them together filled Kaito’s head with visions of tornados engaging in suggestive dance.
“I suppose it is starting to get late.”
Kaito blinked his attention to Cristian, who was eyeing the drink in Kaito’s hand.
Kaito laughed nervously. “I’ve been trying to keep a slow pace…”
Cristian smiled at him, although Kaito wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgment of his words or otherwise. He offered Kaito his hand. “Would you dance with me?”
The swivel of Beverly’s gaze in their direction was palpable against Kaito’s skin. “Sure,” he said, placing his drink on the table beside them. He took Cristian’s hand and prayed he didn’t feel the tremble in his fingers.
“Excellent,” Cristian said and led him to the dance floor.
They traversed hard carpet before breaching the rounded edge of the dance floor. It was laid out in white-and-black tile, the colors erratically swirling and clouding the surface to mimic marble. Cristian pulled Kaito to his chest, and the moment the first key of the piano played, he swung them into step. The song had a soft start, and Cristian’s lead followed suit, feet gliding in tune with the scale.
“How goes the article?”
“W-what?” Kaito had to blink away from the thoughts he was having, predominantly about the fresh musk of Cristian’s cologne and the sweat already collecting on his palm.
“Editing.” Cristian whirled them around, dancing more toward the center of the floor.
“Oh, right. It’s going quite well, thank you.”
Cristian spun them through other dancers, effortlessly sliding between their rotating forms on the dance floor.
“You’re much more graceful than someone would expect of a journalist,” Cristian commented. He was looking down at Kaito, eyes soft and lips gently curving upward.
Kaito had to disconnect from his gaze. “Oh, thank you. I’ve always loved dancing.”
Cristian exhaled a wistful breath. “I fell in love with dancing first,” he said.
Kaito turned his gaze back to him. Cristian’s eyes were resting somewhere around Kaito’s neck or shoulder as he thought.
“And then skating. I really liked…hmm…” Cristian stared into the open air for a bit, before continuing. “I enjoyed the thought of being able to do stunts in solo performances with skating,” he explained. “While still having the expression of dance.”
Kaito wanted to write that down.
“Sorry,” Cristian said with a laugh. “This probably feels like interview material, doesn’t it?” The lead vocals of the music were strong, holding long and bold notes as the piano tapped rhythmically in the background. Cristian’s lead also grew stronger, his broad shoulders framing Kaito’s more petite form, pressed close.
Kaito chuckled. “It’s okay. You can’t help that you’re fascinating.”
“I’ll try to stop saying noteworthy things,” Cristian said, and still he twirled them across the dance floor, more toward the opposite edge. “Wouldn’t want to frustrate you.”
“Oh!” Kaito’s eyes were a bit wide. “No, please don’t. I just enjoy hearing about you. Not for work.” He blinked. “Just because I like who you are.”
Cristian halted his feet to fling Kaito outward, and Kaito snapped at the end of his reach before being yanked back into Cristian’s hold. They performed the move without a single missed step or stutter in rhythm. Kaito was actually proud of himself.
Cristian was watching him. Not looking at him—watching him, like there was something to be found under his skin.
“Say, Kaito.”
“Hm?” The sound came out almost strangled, as Kaito had to use all the strength in his body not to sound entirely taken and lovelorn.
Cristian spun them, and now they were on the farthest edge of the dance floor. There were no chairs and tables set up on this side, just a columned wall and a hallway leading back to bathrooms or the kitchen or somewhere else nondescript. Unmoving shadows collected in corners, and Kaito was grateful that he was able to execute half his steps with his face invisible to the rest of the banquet.
“Why don’t you push your hair away from your face?”
Kaito could have guessed a million questions, but he never would have predicted that one. His grip on Cristian’s hip tightened as he thought, but he didn’t know; he didn’t have an
answer.
“You have such a beautiful face.”
Kaito almost tripped over their feet.
“Do you not want people to see it?”
Kaito blushed so hard and so hot that his eyes started to water. “I…um…” As much as Kaito wanted to believe the words at face value, he couldn’t. This was an act. At the very least, it was a conversation just short of genuine. Cristian was a performer and a crowd pleaser, and tonight he was stealing the leading role—becoming the king in Kaito’s future story.
“I just wonder why you don’t open yourself up more.” Cristian’s sentence was innocent, but his voice was low and silken. It prickled across Kaito’s skin as if it were tactile, sliding around his waist and shoulders. “And talent is most attractive. You have that in spades.”
“Uh…” A petty part of Kaito wanted to challenge him, although he didn’t know how. The rest wanted to surrender; whatever fantasy Cristian was creating, whatever it was he wanted out of becoming Kaito’s muse, Kaito had a feeling he would enjoy the result.
But hope was a festering emotion; Kaito reminded himself of who he was, and who was in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Cristian apologized, sounding not sorry at all. “I spent a few hours staring at your face last night; I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”
Kaito shook his head and looked away. The way his heart tripped in his chest almost coerced his feet to do the same.
“Too humble to take a compliment?” Cristian asked.
If Kaito was wrong—even though he was fairly certain he wasn’t—then he might appear rude. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s hard to believe that coming from, well, you.”
Cristian chuckled in a raspy and wonderful voice. “Because you think I don’t have eyes?”
Kaito huffed a nervous laugh.
“I also find knowing multiple languages a very attractive quality.”
Speak, Kaito. “Me too. You know three, right, Cristian?”
Cristian’s eyebrows rose before he smiled again. “Oui.”
Don’t speak French.
“So bad at taking compliments,” Cristian repeated. He sounded amused.
Kaito cleared his throat. “They don’t suit me.” Cristian’s eyebrows were furrowing when Kaito moved on. “I apologize; I didn’t mean to appear ungrateful.”
Cristian tipped his head to the side, and his curls fell away from his face. “It’s okay.”
Kaito heard Beverly’s voice echo through his head: Make a move! Kaito’s hand squeezed around Cristian’s.
“Do you have a lover?” Cristian asked suddenly, although his voice was casual, almost whispered. “Like that Beverly Weston? Is she perhaps your partner?”
Kaito almost laughed outright. The music was trickling toward the final notes, and their feet slowed. “Beverly is my best friend,” Kaito told him. When Cristian’s eyes stayed firmly on his face, Kaito clarified: “No. She’s not. And I don’t. Have a partner, I mean.”
“I was hoping that was the case,” Cristian said, turning their bodies at the end of the music so Kaito could face the banquet once more. “Because it looks like she’s riling Jason up pretty good.”
Kaito scanned the crowd until he found Beverly. She was laughing in response to something the person in front of her said, smile blinding even from here. Jason was watching the side of her face with rapt fondness.
“Jason’s interest can only be gained when someone is quick and beautiful,” Cristian told him.
Kaito nodded. “That’s Beverly in a sentence.”
“I believe it.”
When Beverly disengaged with the other person, Jason leaned down, speaking below her ear. He rested his hand on Beverly’s waist, very subtly bringing her into his grasp. Beverly was smiling, and when she spoke, her teeth flashed like she was aiming to kill.
“They’re cute together,” Kaito said.
“I agree.”
Violins started, and Cristian pulled them into motion again. “Another dance?”
If it was up to Kaito, they’d never stop. “Please.”
Cristian swung him around. “So, no lover then?”
Kaito swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “Am I the one being interviewed now?”
“I just want to know more about you,” Cristian responded. “Within your blog there are thousands of words on figure skating, art, music, the creative process—but none on Kaito Watanabe.”
The music was gorgeous, something smoky and brilliant. It changed the room all on its own, as if the power it had over the atmosphere dimmed the lights and thickened the air.
“There’s not much to say,” Kaito eventually answered.
“There’s always something to say.”
Kaito didn’t want Cristian to stop talking. But he also wanted to just hold or be held, smell that smell and feel that touch, commit all of it perfectly to memory before it was gone. It all felt like a dream, but he thought he might be okay dreaming.
“When did you get glasses?”
Kaito opened his eyes. He didn’t realize he’d closed them. “Young,” he answered. “I read too much, and I always kept the books right in front of my nose. Left me nearsighted.”
“I’m farsighted,” Cristian said. Kaito imagined him in reading glasses and was struck with sickly adoration. “What did you like to read?”
“Everything,” Kaito answered honestly.
Cristian pressed himself closer somehow, their chests flush. Kaito heard his next words from the rumble of his chest more than from his mouth. “You shaped your mind into something beautiful.”
His leg slid between Kaito’s, and he rocked forward, low and strong, grinding friction between Kaito’s thighs. The exhale that left Kaito’s chest couldn’t be caught. Cristian’s eyes were fixed on his, unmoving.
So what if it was a little bit of a performance—Cristian, performing solely for Kaito—shouldn’t that be an honor in and of itself?
Cristian pulled them both back to full height, keeping them close. Kaito had to work himself up to the words, but he was able to deliver them evenly. “Do you have a lover, Cristian?”
Just the corner of Cristian’s mouth dented in, hinting at a smile. “No,” he answered easily. “Nothing of the sort.”
Do you want one?
Kaito swallowed the thought. “Strange,” Kaito said instead. He kept his voice low to make sure it stayed perfectly within his control. “Someone like you could have anyone, I’d imagine.” Then Kaito cleared his throat, and his eyelashes fluttered. “Beautiful, talented, multilingual.” Judging by the slow smile that spread over Cristian’s lips, the playfulness of Kaito’s words weren’t lost on him.
Cristian dipped him, bringing their faces dangerously close. “I’m picky,” he said just above Kaito’s mouth.
He sprang them back upward, and this time it was Kaito’s turn to urge forward, fitting his leg snugly between the arch of Cristian’s thighs. He was close enough to feel Cristian’s breath. “This evening, have you…picked?”
Cristian’s eyes were almost orange with how bright the brown burned beneath the chandelier. His entire face changed, honed in and determined. He jerked Kaito close at the coercion of the music, holding him. Their noses touched, Cristian’s even breath flooding over Kaito’s lips. Kaito felt his presence on his mouth even though they weren’t touching, heat lightning sparking in the humidity and tension between their lips. Kaito consciously worked to keep his spine straight, lest he melt in Cristian’s arms.
Then they were spinning again, and Kaito had a few steps to attempt to regain his breath and composure.
“Kaito, tell me,” Cristian spoke, facing the corner swathed in quiet and shadows. He dipped Kaito low, arching his back to lean over his and peer into his eyes. “If I wanted to kiss you here…would you allow it?” His words vibrated over Kaito’s skin; his breath tickled the part of Kaito’s lips.
Kaito exhaled, all the air leaving him at once. Cristian yanked him up from the dip, and the moment they
reconnected, Kaito decided to take the lead. He pressed his fingertips hard into the dimples of Cristian’s back, wishing he could run them all the way up the dip of Cristian’s spine.
He stepped forward, sliding his thigh between Cristian’s legs and forcing them down low. “Allow,” he repeated with a chuckle. He spoke his next words right under Cristian’s ear, purring against his neck. “How about, ask?”
Kaito couldn’t see Cristian’s eyes, but he heard the catch of breath in his throat.
They stepped back into a normal gait, and Cristian regained the lead. “Are you?” he asked. The silk of his voice was all over Kaito again, slithering across the curve of his neck and around his thighs. “Asking.”
Yes. “No,” Kaito answered. Their feet twirled around each other’s, speeding with the climax of the music. Then it came to a sudden stop, violins halting hard, with Cristian’s arm wrapped around Kaito’s waist and Kaito looking into surprised eyes. Kaito touched the bottom of Cristian’s chin, lifting it just the slightest bit. “But you were.”
Then Kaito tilted his head and fit their mouths together.
Cristian’s shoulders heaved as breath rushed from his nose, his arm tightening around Kaito’s middle. Kaito took Cristian’s lip between his, and Cristian pushed deeper into the kiss, humming. Kaito ran his tongue along Cristian’s lower lip—just a gentle teasing sensation—and Cristian opened his mouth in response.
For a moment, Kaito wasn’t sure his feet were on the floor; all the sensation in his body whirled upward at the coercion of Cristian’s lips. Dizziness broke over Kaito’s cheeks as heat tingled down his neck. He wanted to pull him closer, kiss him deeper, sink his fingers…
Cristian pulled away, and he looked down at Kaito through thick lashes and a mess of curls. His irises were the color of the sun burning just at sunset, a singed horizon that left heat lingering in its wake. He took one of Kaito’s hands. “Might I show you a place away from cloying eyes?” He kissed the knuckles of Kaito’s hand once, twice.
Kaito nodded.
The next song had already begun, and while the chatter of the room was at a normal level, it all became far away white noise as they strode forward. Kaito tried to keep his pace natural; he didn’t want to broadcast his impatience to the entire ballroom. Cristian rounded a single corner, barely free of eyes and ears, and grabbed Kaito’s wrist to swing him next to a column.