by Jodi Payne
“You’re welcome.” Kyle nodded, pupils big in his hazel eyes. “This is a soul-deep thing, it’s true. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“Anytime.” He pushed up and grabbed another kiss, loving being able to just make the connection.
Kyle never disappointed him, accepting the kiss and returning it like a promise. Like it mattered to him. “You want a rice cooker?” Damn, Kyle had a lot of gadgets in this kitchen.
“Yeah.” How fucking cool. “Show me how to make it work?”
“It’s easy.” Kyle stretched up tall and pulled a little pot with a plug on it out of the cabinet over the stove. Kyle added water and the rice and pressed a button, and that was it. “And you don’t touch it again until it’s done. Simple, huh? Do you want to clean the fish, or do you cook it like that?”
“I’ll clean it up. We just do it simple, hmm? Because the étouffée has the flavor.”
“Yep. Grill pan or sauté pan?” Kyle headed for a cabinet across the kitchen. “God, I’m already hungry. By the time we sit down to eat, I’m going to be ravenous.”
“Have a bite of cheese.” He took the sauté pan and started heating it up before getting the fish ready. “I like me a crispy skin.”
“You eat the skin? I didn’t know you could eat fish skin. I’ll try it.” Kyle went right over, picked up a small hunk of cheese, and waved it at him before eating it.
“I cleaned it up real good. You don’t have to. One for me?” He opened his mouth like a baby bird’s.
“One for you.” Kyle cut him a chunk and put it on his tongue, the sharp taste making his mouth water.
“Uhn. Thanks, cher. So good.” He got the pan screaming and put the fish on, then tumped the shrimps in the étouffée to cook real fast.
“You want to eat in here, or we could sit in the dining room? It’s a little fancy, but sometimes that’s fun.” Kyle refilled their wineglasses.
“I’m easy as pie, cher. It’ll taste good anywhere.”
“Dining room, then. With candles. Why not?” Kyle pulled four tall tapers from a drawer and disappeared into the dining room.
“Ooh. Candles!” How fancy!
“I don’t use this room a lot, just for parties, mostly,” Kyle called from the other room. “It’s nice, though. Comfy. Getting close?” Kyle came back in, hooked an arm around his waist.
“Two minutes. You want to grab out the rice?” He craned his neck and kissed the curve of Kyle’s jaw.
“Mmm. I like that. Rice. Got it.” Kyle slipped away to pull the rice out of the steamer. A few minutes later, serving dishes were passed between them, filled, and set out on the table. Kyle opened another bottle of wine while he got the bread out of the warming oven and sliced it up. In the dining room, Kyle pulled out his chair. “Sit, baby. I can’t wait to try this.”
He inhaled deep, the world buzzing with the scent of cayenne and bay, parsley and garlic, paprika and thyme.
Kyle paused with a serving spoon in his hand, candlelight dancing across his face. “Do I serve this over the rice or next to it?”
“Over is how we do it. You can sop up with the bread too. It ain’t fancy, just good.”
“Good is fancy enough for me.” Kyle served them each a big helping.
“Ain’t it? Sometimes just good is better than fancy.”
He watched Kyle try it, grinning at the yummy noises and the nearly orgasmic look on his lover’s face.
“Oh, Colt. Oh my God. That is… mmm.” Kyle took another bite. “So good.”
He took a bite of his own, and a wave of homesickness hit him for a second. Oh, that was good. That was just right.
When he looked up again, Kyle was watching him. “Tastes like home, huh? I can see it in your face. Tastes like your mom’s? It’s cool how food can do that. This is amazing.”
“Tastes like my granny’s. Just…. She taught me to cook all the good things.” Barbecue shrimps and gumbo and jambalaya and étouffée and shrimp and grits and court bouillon and crab boil. All the good things. “What you like to cook best?”
“Pasta. I love Italian food. I make a mean lasagna. I love shellfish and pasta dishes, sausage and peppers, more pasta… God, I love pasta. And I love to grill. Ribs, chicken, steaks, fish, veggies like peppers and corn, pineapple and peaches.”
“Mmm. Yes, please.” He could eat all of that.
“Good.” Kyle’s mouth was full, so Colt had to wait for him to finish. “Next weekend I’ll cook. I think. Unless I have crazy rehearsals, because we’re opening the following weekend. This is so good.” Kyle took another big bite. The man wasn’t shy about eating, for sure. He had a good appetite.
“Why’re they crazy?” He didn’t have to worry about having a staged show or nothing. He showed up, played—hell, being onstage was easier than the studio because you just went with the energy.
Kyle smiled at him. “Well, we don’t improvise, music man. It has to be exactly the same every night. We have to get all the steps right, the lighting, the entrances, the sets if there are any, costume changes. It’s a lot to put together. And it runs for a long while. Months at least. So there’s a lot to perfect.”
“Exactly the same? Honest?” He couldn’t fathom that. Not at all.
“Honest. Exactly the same. All the same steps, same music, same timing, same stories. Every night. Six times a week. You’ll see. You can come to opening night, and then I’ll get you tickets a couple of weeks later.”
Kyle sipped his wine, the glass reflecting the candlelight.
“That’s dedication.” And he meant that. His music was very much about improv, but he could lay down tracks when he needed to.
Kyle shrugged. “It’s just what I do. But you know, that improvisation we did this… was it just this morning? Wow. That was amazing, wasn’t it? I’ve never really done that before, not like that anyway. The way that just came from deep down, and that energy? I hope we can do that again soon.”
“It was wow, and you say when.” He glanced over and winked. “After we eat.”
“Nothing’s interrupting this meal. And I’m so going to have seconds.” Kyle laughed, reaching out to take his hand. “I want to get that down, though, if we can. Record it like Timmy did for me the last time. That’s the next piece I’m working on, you know. Not for this opening, but my next solo exhibition. The only thing better than recording it would be….” Kyle looked at him, eyes flashing. “Oh, I’m getting a crazy idea.”
He was all about the crazy. Hell, he was sort of the definition of crazy. “I’m in.”
“The only thing better than asking you to record your original music for me would be to improv it every night. With you. Onstage.”
“Sure, honey, if you want. You tell me when and where, and I’ll let Nathan know.”
“Yeah? Really? I mean, some of the show would be staged, but I’m thinking at least one piece could be improv. We pay and do real contracts and everything. I’d just need to talk to your manager.” Kyle took another bite and didn’t seem to care about a full mouth this time, just kept on talking. “How cool. Everything is so rehearsed in dance, but this would be, like… spur-of-the-moment. It could reflect our mood or the vibe we’re getting from the audience, or just whatever your fingers and my feet… do.”
“That’s my thing, so I got no worries. I could watch you for years.”
Kyle gave him a soft smile. “You are so sweet, baby. I could get lost in your guitar for ages. It’s just so real.”
He sure hoped so; he didn’t know how else to be. That probably wasn’t true. There were some dark days where he didn’t want to be him or anybody like him, but he wasn’t smart enough to turn into a stranger.
“The idea makes me a little nervous, you know? Being unstructured and unscripted. But I felt so open and creative this morning. I think we can pull it off.” Kyle kissed his hand and then sipped more wine.
“We’ll have to try it again and see what happens.” And if that was selfish? So be it. He wanted to play for Kyle.
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“We will.” Kyle pushed back from the table. “Oh, man. I am stuffed. That was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for letting me.” It had been the best day in a month of Sundays, between the going and the seeing and the playing and the food.
“I’m mulling over how to properly show my gratitude.” Kyle looked at him with hooded eyes and a sly, sexy smile.
“Ooh. Now there are some possibilities there, cher….” That look made him some lovely possibilities.
“Infinite possibilities for creative people.” Kyle slid out from behind the table and into his lap smoothly. Almost slithering. “And we are very creative, aren’t we?”
“Oh, we is that, cher. We got that making thing down.” His hands found Kyle’s ass like they had minds of their own.
“M-hm. We do.” Kyle kissed him with soft, warm lips that felt like heaven and tasted like wine. He could get drunk on that, no question, and he let himself melt into the sweet, velvet richness that was Kyle.
Kyle lingered over the kiss, his lover’s hunger real but simmering under the surface, still, as long fingers slid up under his shirt and dragged across his nipples.
His belly tightened up in anticipation, and his sac did the same. The ball of need in his belly wasn’t huge, but it was beginning.
“Ooh, I felt that.” Kyle’s hand brushed over his abs and tucked just under his waistband. “Why don’t we clean this up and digest a bit, and then maybe I’ll dance for you. Something naughty.”
“You have the best ideas, cher. Near wicked.” Eventually he would let Kyle’s ass go.
Someday.
Soon.
Chapter Seven
“HOLD! HOLD up!” Kyle turned away from the stage and waved at Jake. “Reset, please? Top of this piece.”
“On it.” The stage manager said something low into his headset. The music stopped abruptly, and the lights started changing.
“Danny, come down here. Ali? Come on, baby.” Kyle waved the dancers over to the edge of the stage. Neither of them looked happy about it. Danny had attitude in every fucking step. He sighed and patted the stage, and they both sat. “Okay. You two are kicking ass up there. And you’re the only two. So, I’m playing a little game here, and you two are going to pretend like I’m reaming you new assholes. And then you’re going to get up and out-diva the rest of the company so they’ll snap to. Yes? Otherwise we’re going to be here all night. Hm?”
Allison got it, gave him a nod, and got right to her feet. God, he loved her. She glared at him, fire shooting out her eyes, and then turned and strutted away, heading right for the rest of the company, who were standing there staring. “I need five minutes. Can we take five minutes?”
Danny stood up. “We’re taking five, Kyle. You better cool off too. Asshole.” Danny strutted offstage.
Kyle sighed and smacked his clipboard into the back of a chair before plopping down next to Jake.
“Asshole.”
“Totally.”
Jake snorted. “The things you do for art. Oh, hang on.” Jake said a few quiet words into his headset. “Someone named Colt is here for you?”
“Ah!” Kyle popped up out of his seat.
“Oh, so not a critic.”
“Nope.”
“Or pizza delivery.”
“Ha. No. Musician. Here to watch some rehearsal.” Kyle made his way up the aisle.
“Lover?”
“That too. So nosy, Jake.” He ducked through the doors at the back of house and squinted as he stepped into the bright lobby.
Colt stood there, rocking side to side, looking around, wide-eyed. When those dark eyes landed on him, he got a bright smile. “Hello, you!”
He went right up and pulled Colt into his arms. “Mmm. I’ve missed you.”
They hadn’t seen each other since the weekend. Colt had two really long days wrapping up things in the studio, and he’d been slammed on Wednesday with tech. He was tired, Colt looked tired, but it was nice to hold his lover for a minute.
“Oh, cher. You feel so right.” Colt leaned into him, inhaling deep. “Thank you for asking me.”
“I hope you like what you see. Things are a little nuts just at the moment, but I promise I’m not really as big an ass as I’m about to look.” He let Colt go and kissed him quickly, fairly chaste since they were in the middle of the lobby. “Come on. It’s only a five-minute break.”
“Just show me where to sit and be.” Colt bounced on his toes, expression eager as hell.
“You can sit with Jake and get an eyeful.” Kyle felt like bouncing himself. It was fun having someone interested in seeing him work. Not just dance, but work. And Colt loved new experiences; he was the perfect audience.
“Jake, this is Colt. Colt, this is my stage manager, Jake.”
“Helloooo, Colt,” Jake said, glancing up from a notebook full of Post-it flags and precisely handwritten notes. Kyle rolled his eyes. “Have a seat.”
“Taken, Jake.”
“My girlfriend would like him too.”
“No.” Kyle took Colt’s hand and grinned, joking, “If he hits on you, let me know. I’ll press charges.”
“I got this, cher. No worries.” No. No, Kyle had to admit, every time he was in Colt’s presence, those dark eyes were focused on him and him alone. It was erotic as fuck.
In fact, Colt’s eyes, and that smile he got a few minutes ago, either one alone could make his chest ache. But together, he was done. Hooked. Totally helpless. Fuck, he could really get his heart broken this time.
“Don’t you have work to do? Go be an asshole, Kyle.”
He snorted and headed for the stage. “Ali, honey?” he shouted. “Put the tears away and let’s get to work.”
“Don’t be a dick, Kyle.” Oh, Danny did that so well.
“If the pair of you can’t lead this cast, there are a hundred others waiting in line.” He felt the bristle run through the company and hid his smile. Sometimes you had to light a fire. They were bored of dancing for him, but they’d back up their principals. This cast was so talented, and so ready for an audience. “Can we take it one more time, then? I’d like to move past this. The next piece is much more complicated.”
That was true. They needed to nail this one, or it was going to be a late night.
“Jake, call places.”
Jake stood up and shouted places, gave him an eye roll, and then got the music started. “He can be such a queen.”
Colt watched the stage, wide-eyed, silent and still like he was afraid to miss a single second.
The stage cleared and Allison and Danny took their places center stage in the near-darkness, arms and legs intertwined and tangled so it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. They were stunning as the music started and the lights came up on them. They started to move like one creature.
All around them dancers entered the stage, walking, crawling, bent at odd angles, and all of them weaving themselves in, around, and through one another.
Kyle sat beside Colt gingerly, like he might break something if he moved too quickly. “Dan and Ali are friendship and love,” he whispered to Colt. “And the dancers around them are everything that threatens it. Jealousy, hate, envy, distance, ideology, family, class, death, that sort of thing.”
Colt nodded, lips pursed. “I can see it. They look mean, like they want to bite.”
He loved that Colt got it, appreciated it. “Exactly.” Oh, and his little scheme was working too, because while the principals floated and tangled with each other, the others jerked and bent and halted, all of them focused. “They’ve got it, Jake. Look at them.”
“Your inner asshole is a genius.” Jake’s tone was dry as a desert.
“So here they break free and….” Colt was just going to have to interpret the rest for himself, because he was completely blown away by the entire second half of the piece. When it ended—Danny and Allison hand in hand and the company scattered to corners and broken on the floor—the
theater went silent.
Danny broke first, grinning. “Fuck, yeah!”
Kyle just nodded. The company hooted and hauled themselves to their feet.
“Take five, guys. That was exactly what we needed today. Nice work!” He turned to Jake. “Set for Rush Hour, Jake.”
“On it.” Jake spoke low into his headset again, and people in black started moving across the stage.
Kyle was elated and kissed Colt on the cheek impulsively. “That was about as good as you’re ever going to see that number.”
“That was something, cher.” There was a line on Colt’s cheek, a single trail from a tear. “You made that all up, huh?”
“I did.” He reached out and traced the trail with his thumb. “Love wins, baby. Truth and goodness. Things the heart knows.”
“That’s right. Love wins. That’s the biggest thing under the heavens.”
“It is. And you saw them, you saw how good that felt. They just breathe it when they want to. I’m glad you liked it. It’s one of my favorite pieces.” His second favorite was this adorable story in the second act about a boy who finds a stray dog. Just a simple, happy little piece.
“It’s beautiful. You been touched by God, I think. So fine.” Colt watched him like he was precious.
He shrugged. “I just love what I do.”
“Two minutes, lover boy.” Jake threw the words at him with a grin.
“Ha. Thank you.”
Over the next two hours, Kyle danced twice. The first time was the piece Colt had seen his bit of the week before, about losing his lover, and the second was a solo piece that Allison choreographed for him that showed off his classical training and was about a man who had grown very old, reliving his youth.
The final number ended, a huge company number that showed off talent more than told a story, and Kyle broke everyone and gave them the following morning off. He sure needed it.
“Jake, tomorrow we’ll only do cleanup and we’ll keep it short, and then I’m giving everyone Saturday off, but don’t tell them.”
“So much for being an asshole.”