"That wasn't—"
David kissed him, silencing him. "I know. But you need to hear it. You don't need to prove anything, Mason. You don't need to push yourself to breaking point. You are one of the most talented dancers I have ever known. You will do amazing things on stage, just give it time. You're young. You have a long career ahead of you. Believe in yourself. I do."
Mason's eyes danced with tears, which made them even brighter. "Thank you," he whispered. He knocked his forehead gently against David's. "Thank you."
*
David
David had forgotten the anxiety that crawled through him before performing, igniting every muscle and sinew in his body. For once, he was the one bouncing. He'd warmed up far too early and now, stuck in the wings watching the dances before his and Mason's, he was trying to keep his body moving and also stop his nerves from getting the best of him. It was ridiculous, really. How many shows had he danced in? How many of those had he been the principle dancer? How many more had he watched as the choreographer? But this was different. Eyes would be on him, expecting amazing things. Expecting him to perform to the same standard as he had twelve years earlier. But more than that, the dance meant everything to Mason and he didn't want to give his lover any reason to be disappointed.
Mason was on stage at that exact moment, dancing in a group routine that Alan had choreographed. It was fascinating to watch, and a quick glance out at the audience told David that they were entranced, too. That was a good sign. It meant they were more likely to donate generous amounts of money to feed the local homeless. The first half of the show was hard hitting for that reason, full of thought-provoking dances. The second half, by contrast, was packed with light hearted routines to typically Christmassy music. They wanted the audience to donate, but they also wanted them to leave at the end of the night feeling happy and entertained. It was Christmas Eve, after all. Given the day, it was surprising that the one-night only performance had sold out. Or maybe it wasn't. BalletEast had an excellent reputation and Veronica had many contacts and patrons she could call on.
David clapped as the routine ended and all but three of the dancers came off the stage. His attention was diverted from the next dance as Mason hurried up to him.
"Are you ready?" Mason asked, his eyes bright and wide with excitement.
His sub was already sweaty from dancing under hot stage lights, which was all the more reason for David to grab him and pull him into a bruising kiss.
"I am now. How many more dances are there before us?"
"Three."
They stood together, fingers intertwined and watched the next two dances. For a few minutes, David's nervous energy seemed to dissolve as he became anchored by Mason. At the end of the second dance, Mason gently pulled his hand away.
"I need to be on the other side of the stage. You'll be amazing."
"We both will," David agreed, claiming one last kiss.
Alone once more, he took several deep breaths, taking the few minutes he had to compose himself. It felt like an army of ants had decided to parade around in his stomach, as the audience applauded and the lights went down. He ignored them, picked up the huge cardboard box that was his prop and took his place on the stage.
When the music started, soft and mournful, the ants buggered off. Adrenaline kicked in and he felt alive. The dance started slowly, with him sitting on his cardboard stage. He used arm movements and his upper body to show hunger, fatigue and cold. Eventually, he rose to his feet and lurched forward, hands cupped together to beg from imaginary passers-by. Turned away, he returned to his cardboard bed, pretending to sleep.
Moments later, Mason made his entrance. David's heart hammered in his chest. It was hard not to smile as he watched Mason's fluid movements, but years of training flooded back to him, as though it had only been a few weeks since he'd last danced on stage, rather than years and he was able to keep a neutral expression on his face.
Mason stumbled and staggered with ultimate grace. He looked defeated but beautiful all at the same time and, even though they'd spent hours working on the dance, David felt like he was watching it for the first time. He returned to his feet, signaling the start of the adagio phase of the grand pas de deux. They began a slow, graceful duet that had him supporting Mason; catching him each time he fell; carrying him on his back. They subverted pirouettes from beautiful, graceful spins, into moments of frantic defiance that Mason would break out of mid-turn, to fall, be caught and set upright again. They used supported grand jetés to show that Mason's character was incapable of accepting help and wanted to flee the offer, only for David to pull him back, into a fish dive, one arm wrapped tightly around Mason's waist, the other around his leading leg, just above the knee. Then he set him upright into a graceful arabesque, slowly turning him to show the help his character could offer.
The moment Mason's character relented, the dance shifted into the first of the two variations. David's was first. His solo portrayed his character's past; a painful road that had led to his current situation. Arguments, drinking, losing everything; he conveyed it all through movement alone. It was what he loved about dance: it was a truly universal language, one that spoke to the heart rather than the ears.
Mason's variation told a tale of pride and passion and serving his country; of terror and pain and a nightmare he couldn't break free from. Of losing everything. They ended the variations together again, sharing the cardboard bed, sheltering from rain that was projected onto the stage through dim light.
In the coda, the final phase of the dance, their roles reversed. Now Mason helped David, as cold and hunger consumed him. Their movements echoed those of the adagio, but they were much slower. The lifts and jumps purposefully lacked height and energy, as David's character faded. Finally, Mason held David in his arms, cold blue light streaming over them behind, fading to black over several long seconds, the music long since finished.
There was a hushed pause in the darkness. A silence that left David cold. Had the audience hated it? Had it been too confrontational?
Applause roared over him, chasing his fears away. Mason set him down and they held hands as they bowed. As the applause continued, the curtains closed and the safety curtain dropped. A little light was thrown onto the stage so they could leave it safely. Not that there was any need to hurry off.
They embraced each other.
"You were amazing," Mason whispered.
David kissed him, holding his lover's face still with his hands. He would not be denied this kiss for anything.
"Are you sure you don't want to go back to this?" Mason asked, once his lips were released from David's.
"I'm sure. My dancing days are over." David smiled. "It was amazing. Dancing with you meant everything to me. Thank you for making me brave enough to do it."
Mason laughed. "I just gave you a prod in the right direction."
"You did far more than that," David insisted. "God, I love you."
He stared at Mason, marveling at the way the theatre lights highlighted the curves of his face and his lean and lithe body. Sweat made Mason's bare skin shimmer. His damp hair was plastered to his forehead and his eyes literally gleamed with passion. David loved every part of him, more than he thought he'd ever loved anyone before. He poured the intensity of his love into another passionate kiss.
"Can we go home now?" he asked, his voice hopeful even though he knew the answer would be no. "I want you all to myself."
Mason smiled apologetically. "No can do; I have to dance in the second half."
"Damn." David's tone was overly dramatic, and not even remotely serious.
Mason cupped David's face in his hands. "Thank you. I've dreamed about dancing with you for a long time. It couldn't have been more perfect."
"A good Christmas present?" David asked.
"The best ever."
"You'd better get going before there's nothing left of the interval. You need to take a break, have a drink, and take
care of yourself."
"Yes, boss."
David chuckled and moved one hand to Mason's arse, squeezing hard. "There's time for that later. Go on. I'm going to check in with Veronica, before I take my seat in the auditorium."
Smiling, Mason backed away a couple of paces, before turning and jogging from the stage, no doubt to go to the dressing rooms. David stayed still for a few more moments, feeling the heat of the lights on his skin, soaking up the atmosphere of being on the stage. Even without an audience present, it was still an amazing feeling. Not one he wanted to go back to, but one he was glad to have experienced one last time. And with the person he loved.
*
Mason
"Mason." His name was a hot, excited whisper against his ear.
Mason groaned and rolled onto his side, flopping his arm over his head. "I'm asleep."
"It's Christmas."
"I'm still asleep. Go away."
David didn't. He tugged at Mason's arm, peeling it away from his head. "Wake up."
"This is revenge, isn't it?" Mason moaned. "For all the mornings I've woken you up." He couldn't actually think of a time when David had been awake before him.
David laughed softly. "No, not at all. Come on, wake up."
"What time is it?" Mason cracked one eye open. "Ugh. It's still dark."
"It's normally dark when you get up to go to the studio."
"I have to get up in the dark to get there on time. But I've got no reason to get up early today."
"Yes you do," David said. "It's Christmas and I want to spend every second of it with you." He sat astride Mason and pinned his arms above his head.
Mason opened his other eye and stared up at David. "Can I have the old David back yet? The one who doesn't act like a big kid?"
"He comes back the day after Boxing Day," David promised. "What can I say? I love this time of year. It's magical."
"Not at stupid o'clock in the morning it isn't."
David leaned down and kissed Mason. "It's gone seven."
"Exactly." He shut his eyes again. "Stupid o'clock."
David licked his cheek, making him squirm.
"You're really not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?"
"No."
Mason grunted. "Fine. I'll get up."
David released him and moved, watching as Mason got out of bed and threw some clothes on.
"Maybe it is revenge," he admitted.
Mason raised his eyebrows.
"Now you know how exhausting it is living with your constant, boundless energy."
Mason narrowed his eyes. "If you hate it that much, you could throw me out."
"Never. It's one of the things I love about you."
"I can't be that exhausting then, can I, old man?" Mason called, as he headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Splashing cool water on his face helped to wake him up. He retrieved the present he'd bought for David, nervousness leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps over his flesh. The scent of freshly brewing coffee wafted up the stairs. Christmas music played through the lounge speakers and all the lights were on, merrily twinkling.
"That's great to hear, Veronica, thanks for letting me know," David was saying, as Mason walked down the stairs into the living room. "You have a lovely Christmas too."
Mason paused on the bottom stop, one hand curled round the banister.
"She was just letting me know how much was raised last night," David said. "It was an amazing success. She's already talking about doing it again next year. Of course, she was trying to persuade me to dance again."
"But you won't?"
"No."
Mason felt his chest deflate a little. A small part of him had hoped that David would get the dancing bug again, but he really was happy with retirement.
David motioned to the huge tree, which was beautifully decorated with white snowflakes, long icicles and clear and black baubles. Sitting beneath it was a parcel finished with a huge red bow and a large black envelope.
"Open the envelope first," David said.
Mason glanced down at the gift he'd tucked beneath his arm. He could wait to give it to David. He retrieved the envelope and joined David on the sofa. They sat close, Mason crossing his legs so he could face the older man. He tucked the present he'd been holding behind him, out of sight. David's face was a picture of excitement, his dark eyes shining behind his glasses, his lips upturned and slightly parted. The laughter lines around his eyes were especially pronounced, which only made him more attractive.
"Open it," he urged.
Mason hooked his thumb under the flap, breaking the gum seal. There were three things inside: a narrow folder made of card, another smaller envelope, and a travel guide. David pressed his palms together and tapped his fingers against his lips, as Mason flipped open the travel guide. It was for Paris. A few places had been earmarked: the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, a cruise down the River Seine, the Moulin Rouge and, finally, the Opera Bastille, the home of the Opéra National De Paris.
He glanced up at David, who nodded excitedly, silently urging him to keep looking. He opened the folder next. It contained plane tickets for two and an itinerary, which included details for a five-star spa hotel. The tickets for the outbound flight were dated the 27th December.
"David, I—"
"You haven't finished," David said quickly. "Don't say anything until you've seen everything."
Inside the envelope, Mason found two tickets for the ballet. Cinderella. Box seats.
"David..." He stared at the array of things helplessly.
"Tell me you love it."
"I do... but..."
David pressed his fingers to Mason's lips. "No buts. Just accept the gift."
"It's too much," Mason said around David's fingers, his voice smothered and weak. "No one's ever given me anything like this before." He stared David in the eyes. "You know how huge my family is—"
"And how wonderful they all are," David interrupted.
Mason dipped his chin, his mouth curling into a smile. "Because there were so many of us, we couldn’t afford to splash out. Ever. The biggest present they ever gave me was the promise of dance lessons for a few months. Not that it mattered. All I ever needed was their love and support, which probably sounds sappy as hell and I know it's probably hard to understand..." He paused and inhaled deeply, stopping himself from continuing to ramble. "But your gift... it's amazing, David, really it is. But it's so... extravagant."
"I want to spoil you. Let me?"
Mason didn't know what to say. Even if he rejected the gift, it was probably too late for David to get any kind of refund. The money would be lost and David would be disappointed. He had a passport, but only because he'd been on a couple of tours in Europe with Emotion in Motion, but at least that meant he had the option to say yes.
"You're not going to let me say no, are you?"
"Did you let me say no?" David asked. "When you wanted me to dance with you?"
"No... But it's hardly the same."
David leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Mason's forehead. "You can say no. I won't be offended. But what better place to relax than the city of romance?"
Mason whimpered.
"And haven't you always wanted to see the Opéra National De Paris?"
"Yes," Mason mumbled. "Of course I have."
"Then just say yes."
There was no point in protesting. He could never hope to repay David, but then he didn't have to, even if he felt the need to.
"Okay."
"That's yes?"
Mason laughed. "Yes."
David gathered everything up and popped it back into the envelope, which he tossed onto the nearby coffee table. He dragged Mason's lips to his and they lost themselves in each other for several moments.
Finally, David pulled away, breathless. "Do I get to open my present now?"
Mason hesitated and raked his teeth over his
lower lip. "Yours makes mine look fairly pathetic."
"You chose it for me, so I know it will be wonderful."
"Now that's really sappy."
"If we can't be sappy at Christmas, when can we be?"
Mason rolled his eyes. He twisted round to retrieve the gift and handed it over. David took great care opening it. He seemed to be performing the task purposefully slow. Either he was savouring the anticipation, or he was trying to torture Mason; possibly a bit of both. Eventually, he peeled back the paper to reveal a plain white box.
He looked up, arching an eyebrow. "Intriguing."
"Just open it," Mason muttered. "Stop teasing me."
"You know I love to tease. I love to draw out your anticipation as long as possible."
David opened the box one flap at a time, revealing layers of thin red tissue paper which rustled as David gently pulled them aside. He lifted out a black paddle. It was small and slim, with a thin loop to hang it by. The scent of new leather hit Mason, making his nose wrinkle. It hadn't been so overpowering in the shop, but that was probably because there'd been a whole host of other things to assault his senses. David's eyes widened. He tested the paddle against his palm, first gently and then harder, delivering a sharp thwacking sound.
"Stingy," he said with relish. "Nice." He rested the paddle in his lap. "Are you giving me permission to use it?"
Mason swallowed to moisten his dry mouth. He nodded slowly. "Yes. Just..." He rubbed the back of his neck, painfully aware that his face was becoming hot and probably bright red. "Be gentle to start with."
"You can trust me," David said, kissing Mason's lips softly.
"I know." Plus, he had his safe word. He breathed out. "It's because I trust you that I want to shift my boundaries. I think... I think it's time."
"Only if you're sure you're ready."
"I am."
David glanced across to the other package under the tree. "Why don't you go and grab that one?"
Mason swallowed again. "It's something kinky, isn't it?"
A Dance For Christmas Page 3