by L. A. Ashton
Kaito tugged his phone out of his pocket and went to Twitter. He pulled up Luis Serrano’s post and tipped the phone toward Beverly. “Have you seen this?”
Beverly leaned toward him, eyes scanning the display. “Well…no.”
“I hear the recognition in your voice.”
She flicked her wrist at the tweet in dismissal. “This doesn’t mean anything. You know how skaters are. They’re friendly. Touchy. And these two are rink mates; they’re probably like brothers.”
“Right.”
“Why can’t you allow yourself hope?”
“Because hope gets people hurt.”
“God, you’re dramatic. You should have continued dancing–it suited you.”
Kaito idly scrolled through his feed as she chastised him. “Have you noticed Cristian has been uploading fewer videos of him practicing? Usually he posts a lot of flashy stuff, but lately it’s all been very tame.”
“No, because I’m not a Cristian expert.”
“See, now you’re making me feel creepy.”
Beverly laughed. “You’re not creepy, just dedicated.”
“A dedicated creeper.”
Beverly shoved him hard enough to knock him over. “Text him. Flirt. Be a normal single gay man.”
Kaito chuckled as he pushed himself back into a sitting position. “I’ll warily text him and hope for the best.”
“And flirt!”
Kaito displayed his open palms. “And flirt!” he yielded.
Beverly reached toward him and petted Rochester just under the chin. He purred in appreciation. “You should send him pictures of your cats,” she said. Rochester abandoned Kaito’s side in favor of Beverly’s lap. “You know he’ll love them.”
Kaito’s mouth pulled down in thought. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Jason has been hinting that he’ll be at Stars on Ice this year. I assume you’re going?”
“Like every other year.” His eyebrow quirked upward. “So you two are still in contact?”
“Jason and me?” Beverly was beaming as she slid her thumbs over Rochester’s cheeks. “I’m keeping him on his toes.”
Kaito sank deeper into the couch. “I wish I could buy just a fraction of your confidence.”
“That’s your problem, Kaito; confidence is free.”
He tried not to glare at her. Not for everyone.
Chapter Six
KAITO REFRESHED THE hit count for his website. It was only the fiftieth time he’d done so in the past two hours.
He spun in his desk chair and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. The website was doing well. His interview with Cristian was making the rounds in significant ways, due in part to Cristian plastering links to the piece all over his social media. It was humbling and utterly terrifying.
“I should thank him,” Kaito said to himself and Rochester, who was eyeing him from the couch. Kaito rose from his chair and typed up a message, and then checked it over carefully before pressing Send.
In its entirety, the message read:
“Thank you for the signal boost.”
Kaito let out an enormous exhale and dropped the phone back down by his side. With his pulse hammering near the speed of sound, every effort felt gargantuan.
The phone buzzed in Kaito’s hand, and he almost threw it. He managed to keep it in his grasp—just barely—and brought it up to read the new text.
It was from Cristian.
“I could say the same!”
Yeah, right. The man was too kind. Before Kaito could think of a reply, another message appeared.
“It was a beautifully written article, as usual.”
Kaito’s face flushed hot. He decided to turn his silent sentiment into a written one.
“You’re too kind.”
The replies came quickly—he hoped that meant Cristian was allowing himself a leisurely morning.
“Not at all. Although I noticed you left out a significant portion of our second evening. I suppose I wasn’t remarkable enough.”
Kaito flopped on the couch and groaned. He would never live down that line.
“I have a feeling that content would be suited for a different type of website.”
Kaito’s thumb shook where it hovered over the phone screen. Banshee—one of Kaito’s cats with a penchant for screaming for her next meal—exited the hallway and hopped onto his lap. He stroked over her fur, and the nervous gesture became comforting.
His phone buzzed.
“Haha! I guess you’re right. But I’m sure you’d write it well.”
Rochester slapped at his adopted sister, instigating a play session as she attempted to sleep. Kaito waved his paw away. Kaito wasn’t sure if Cristian was flirting, flattering, or something else entirely. He also wasn’t sure why Cristian was so keen on his writing, but it was difficult not to feel like he’d received the most precious praise a man could hope for.
He didn’t want to end the conversation with another “thank you.” He didn’t want the conversation to end at all—but he was overheated and tongue-tied, too lost in all his feelings to form words.
He let the message sit for a minute or two, and right before texting Beverly in a panic, he considered his current position. He scooped an arm under his two cats’ front legs and propped them up on his lap. He stretched out his free arm and snapped a few quick pictures.
His face wasn’t in them, which was perfect. A bit of his neck and his midsection acted as the backdrop for his two cats, their green and yellow eyes looking just above the camera’s focal point. “Thank you for being cute,” he told them as he dropped them back to lap level. They exchanged confused glances.
“Thank you,” Kaito mumbled as he typed the message. “These guys say thank you as well.”
He clicked Send and watched the picture load. It was cheesy, and maybe stupid, but people who loved cats always loved cats. It was a lifestyle.
“Are those yours?” Cristian’s response read. “They’re adorable!”
“Banshee and Rochester,” Kaito confirmed.
“How old?”
“Three and four.”
“They are so cute. Pet them for me.”
“I will, but the other three will be jealous.”
“YOU HAVE 5 CATS!?”
Kaito chuckled. He got that response a lot.
“I can’t say no to the black ones at the shelter…”
“You are a good man, Kaito Watanabe. I always knew. Now I’m the jealous one.”
Rochester and Banshee had taken to fighting on the adjacent cushion, so Kaito curled his legs against his chest. His smile was too large—it ached. He buried his face in his knees, unsure of how to reply.
His phone vibrated and relieved him of the duty. He opened the message and metaphorically cracked open his sternum as well. His heart was suspended in air.
The message was a picture of Cristian with his cat, Luna, holding her close to his face and waving one of her front paws. Half the world lay between them, made more obvious by the morning sun spilling into Cristian’s picture. Bright gold infused his umber eyes and made them glow. Dark stubble littered his jaw and disappeared against Luna’s fur.
“Luna wanted to say hi too.”
Kaito flipped his phone facedown onto the coffee table and shoved it away. That was the cutest picture he’d ever seen in his life. It radiated such love and warmth that Kaito might as well have resided in a cloud of heat lightning. He should never look at it again; he might never look away.
Like so many men turned to stone at Medusa’s gaze, he picked up his phone anyway. He was struck again, and he slammed the phone back over. He very vaguely considered what a perfect phone wallpaper the image would make, and then slapped all the creepiness back out of his head.
After a few deep breaths, he reclaimed the phone.
“She’s adorable,” he typed. He immediately cursed himself; the response sounded wooden even to him. He added: “I’m sure she’s glad you’re home.”
; “She is,” Cristian confirmed. “I bought her a new traveling crate so she can join me more often!”
“That’s sweet.”
“Next time I’m in the States we can get a drink and you can meet her!”
Already broken free of his rib cage, Kaito’s heart would surely beat itself into the stratosphere.
“I’d love that.”
Cristian responded instantly:
“It’s a date.”
Kaito stared at the words. He stared at them until he wasn’t staring at them anymore—his mind occupied the infinite space behind his eyes and beyond, where the word “date” could mean a million things or nothing, but in every single one of them, Kaito was too happy to care.
Chapter Seven
“BREAKING NEWS: CRISTIAN ALVAREZ SEEN AT LOCAL HOSPITAL FOR POSSIBLE INJURY”
Kaito flew through news links and articles at the speed of light. None of them gave him what he wanted; they were filled with pictures and rumors, but nothing concrete. In every picture, Cristian was covered almost head to toe—collar up, sunglasses on, hat atop his head. Luis was with him, just as conspicuously inconspicuous. They entered the hospital and were there for hours, apparently, and when they finally emerged, they quickly returned home, forgoing practice for the day.
Kaito wasn’t sure what to make of it; he wasn’t the type to immediately buy into rumors. However…
He scrolled through the pictures. Over and over again, he studied them. He thought of Cristian’s normal teaser videos flaunting tough jumps and combos, and how absent they’d been. He thought about the obvious attempt to stay anonymous at the hospital. He thought of Luis by his side through it all.
Chewing on his lip, Kaito picked up his phone. Then he put it down. Picked it back up again.
They were friends, right? He could text Cristian out of concern, and it wouldn’t be strange, right?
Kaito typed out a message, keeping it as bland and innocuous as possible. He only wanted Cristian to respond with whatever made him feel comfortable. “Are you doing okay?” He pressed Send and then put the phone down. He hoped the rumors were exactly that and nothing more. Less Cristian on the ice was a loss for everyone.
Chapter Eight
CRISTIAN’S EYES OPENED to the cool darkness that preceded dawn. The skies were a strange navy blue, and his room was tinged with it.
He rolled onto his side, groggy and exhausted. His sleep had been fitful—anxious. He reached for his phone and squinted through blurry vision. Notifications of every kind lit up his status bar. When he began to sort through them, he saw the common theme: hurt, injury, retire, hiatus, hospital—
He almost put the phone down. Instead, he cleared away all but his personal messages. Five from his coach—no surprise. A few from friends, family, and one from Kaito Watanabe.
“Are you doing okay?”
Cristian stared at the message. His first instinct was to reply, but the notifications still lighting up his screen made him pause. Sometimes he forgot what Kaito was; he remembered the fair-skinned man with soft brown eyes and a softer smile, and gave no thought to what had brought them together.
Kaito was a journalist.
His hand wilted, lying defeated against the mattress. He hated the feeling that crept through him. It was a familiar one.
“Cristian—oh, you’re awake.” Luis stopped in the doorway, pajama pants crumpled over his legs and coffee already in hand.
“Kind of,” Cristian responded.
“I made coffee,” he said. “But we need to head to the hospital.”
Cristian nodded with closed eyes.
“I assume you saw the news already?” Cristian nodded again and forced himself to sit. “You’d think the media were starving animals with how they hunt and hound you. I woke up to quite a few questions myself.”
“They care a lot more when the news is potentially tragic.”
Luis snorted derisively. “I noticed.” His eyes slid down to the phone still in Cristian’s hand. “Are those text messages? You’re better off not saying anything for a while. Acquaintances are one paycheck away from being snitches.”
Kaito Watanabe didn’t feel like a snitch. Cristian stared at the message a little longer.
Luis’s voice grew softer. “You’ve been down that road, haven’t you?”
Cristian closed the message without speaking and got to his feet. “Where’s that coffee?”
Chapter Nine
THE DAY STARTED with—
Backspace.
In the corner seat, the wind—
Backspace.
The dappling of light—
Kaito groaned and leaned back in his chair. Things were perfectly pleasant in his usual cafe, but gathering his thoughts into focus felt a lot like trying to catch scattered musical notes in the air. Even when he believed he’d finally plucked the right cord, a string broke beneath his fingers and made every word he put down feel off-key.
Maybe it was a bad writing day.
He reached across the table to where his coffee was waiting and took a long inhale. Cristian hadn’t responded to his message. He hadn’t responded to any message that made its way to social media. Worry filled him.
A familiar chime suddenly filled Kaito’s ear, and he jumped. Plugging in his mic and headphones, he accepted the FaceTime call.
“Kaito!” Beverly practically shouted. His screen flashed full of her pretty face, so it was easy to see the excitement pulling her expression tight.
“Beverly,” he responded, but cautiously.
“Have you checked social media?” Her eyes were enormous.
“No, I blocked them for a few hours. I’m trying to write.” She stared at him, lips sealed tight and pinched at the corners. Kaito cocked his head. “Should I?”
She nodded fervently. Kaito glanced around the table and reached for his phone, but before he could even unlock it, Beverly’s voice came out in a rush. “It’s Cristian!”
Kaito paused to look at her.
“Stars on Ice! They announced all their guests! Jason and Cristian will both be there. Jason sent me a text asking if I’d be attending… He’s going to be there, Kaito! In Pennsylvania!”
“Oh—” Kaito felt inside out.
“He’s not hurt, right? If he’s attending Stars on Ice, he’s probably fine!”
Then why did he ignore me?
“I don’t know…” Kaito started. Beverly’s face grew irritated, but before she could launch her counterattack, he held up a hand. “Athletes are proud and notoriously secretive about this stuff; they try to hide it all the time. And it’s an exhibition skate—he’ll probably do something easier.”
Beverly cursed. “But it’s Cristian. He injured himself when he was young, and he didn’t hide it.”
“He was a teenager then—things were very different for him.”
She seemed to be mulling this over, but she looked angry about it. “I know you have a point, but I just don’t agree with it. I don’t think Cristian would attend if he’s having trouble.”
Kaito shrugged. He didn’t know what Cristian would do.
“Aren’t you excited, regardless?” she asked. “You’ll get to see him!”
Kaito ruffled the hair at the back of his head. “I’m always happy to see him skate.”
Beverly’s face sharpened into accusation. “That’s all?” Kaito looked away. “Oh my God. Your childhood idol and most recent dalliance is going to be within arm’s reach, and you still have it within yourself to be melancholy about it? Unbelievable.”
Kaito pushed his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Not all of us received a personal request for their presence.”
Beverly rolled her eyes. “Did you see that? I rolled my eyes. Let me do it again for good measure.”
Kaito dropped his hand. “Won’t it seem like I’m being needy or intruding? Being wherever he is?”
“You go every year. You’re not altering your behavior.”
“The truth isn’t what�
�s important; it’s the perception.”
“How can one human even worry this much? Did you send him a cat picture?”
“Yes, actually.”
“And how did it go?”
“Fine, but…” He shifted on his seat. “When the injury rumor was spreading, I asked if he was doing okay, and he never responded. He hasn’t talked to me since.”
Beverly’s mouth twisted in obvious disappointment. “That sucks. But he was probably just busy battling with the media trying to squeeze a story out of him. All while coordinating his trip for Stars on Ice. Don’t take it personally.”
“Easy for you to say.” The face Beverly made at him was void of her playful anger or irritation. It was all sadness, and it was directed at him. That made him feel guilty; he didn’t want Beverly worrying over him.
“We’ll have a great time,” he amended. “Regardless of anything else, you and I will get to see some amazing skating.”
Beverly smiled. “That’s certainly true! Last year was phenomenal.” They chatted for a bit longer, and Kaito shared information about the current article he was fighting. She gave exuberant support as always, and he ended the call with a smile on his face. After a moment or two, it faded.
Kaito sighed and sank into his seat. Stars on Ice was still a couple of weeks away. Kaito wasn’t sure if the wait would give him strength or drive him crazy.
Chapter Ten
LIGHTS FLED ACROSS the surface of the ice.
Stringed melodies swelled as the skaters embraced one another. They slid in and out of perfectly coordinated turns and flourishes, arms reaching, fingers brushing, feet spinning.
Kaito watched them with held breath. They were beautiful, and the story of love and longing they painted across the ice grew more entrancing with every second.
He hadn’t seen Cristian yet. Beverly stood beside him, equally rapt attention on the skaters before them. This was truly the first time since his unreturned text message that Kaito had felt calm. Their motions made him want to write—her arms reached out, but he was sailing away from her. Would they close the distance? Would he careen into the dark forever? Kaito scribbled a few kanji on the notepad in front of him without diverting his gaze.