Fever (part 1 of 6)

"Sorry I'm late," Chad called as he bounded into the empty studio, "You would not BELIEVE the mess--GAH!" He stopped in his tracks as he hit what felt like a solid wall of heat. "What the hell?!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Ryan called back from the opposite end of the room, where he was scrambling to open windows. "I'm trying to fix it."

Chad walked slowly over to Ryan, breathing heavily in the thick air. "What happened in here? The A/C break or something?"

Ryan shook his head ruefully. "It's my mom's new thing -- Bikram Yoga."

"Bee-WHAT?"

"Bikram. Hot Yoga. As the name suggests, you're supposed to do it in a hot room." Ryan stood at an open window and inhaled deeply of the fresh cool air. "My mom really loves it, but to me it just feels like doing yoga postures in a 105-degree oven."

"So, let me get this straight," Chad said, wiping at the sweat that was already beading on his forehead, "they make the room this hot on purpose?!"

"I don't get it either," Ryan admitted, "but it makes my mom happy, so...y'know." He shrugged. "I totally forgot she was starting the class today, otherwise I would have planned this out a little better."

Ryan usually had the entire dance lesson preplanned and had the music already playing by the time Chad arrived, so Chad wasn't sure if the lesson was still on or not. "So--"

Oh!" Ryan suddenly exclaimed, turning back to Chad from the window. "I just remembered -- I think there are some fans in the storage closet. Help me get them?"

"Sure." Chad followed Ryan to the storage closet to retrieve the fans. "So, our dance lesson?"

"Um...well...that sort of depends," Ryan said, wiping at his own brow with the towel that hung over his shoulder. "I don't think there are any other rooms available. Obviously we can't do it here."

Chad shrugged. "Why not?"

Ryan laughed incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"Well, it's not like I've never sweat before."

"True," Ryan had to concede.

"And anyway," Chad continued, "we've got the fans now, so we'll be fine." As if to illustrate his point, he crouched in front of one of a large box fan and switched it on, sighing contentedly at the breeze that instantly cooled his face.

He heard a muffled noise behind him and turned to see Ryan, trying hard to stifle a laugh.

"What?" Chad asked, wanting in on the joke.

But Ryan just shook his head, looking embarrassed. "It's nothing." He quickly turned away and went to plug in another fan across the room.

Chad would've followed him, but he didn't want to leave the coolness of the fan just yet.

"C'mon," Chad called out, his voice sounding warped as it traveled through the fan. "You gotta tell me -- what's so funny?"

Ryan chuckled but still refused to answer. "Forget about it," he said, walking back over to Chad.

Chad raised his eyebrows questioningly. "You laughin' at me?" Ryan grinned sheepishly, shaking his head. Liking the reaction he was getting, Chad continued in his best DeNiro: "You laughin' at me? You laughin' at ME?" Ryan started laughing harder as Chad pretended to look around. "Well, I'm the only one here, so you MUST be laughin' at me."

"Okay, okay," Ryan said, one hand raised in concession, the other holding his belly as he continued to laugh heartily. "I confess! I was laughing at you."

Chad wondered what was so funny about someone cooling himself off in front of a fan. "Why?"

Ryan turned sheepish again as he admitted, "'Cuz the fan was blowing your hair back...and you kinda looked like a dog sticking his head out a car window. You know, with his ears blowing back and that happy look on his face."

"Like this?" Chad stuck out his tongue and pretended to pant, which made Ryan laugh again.

"Yes, exactly."

Chad grinned. Ryan didn't seem to laugh all that often, and it was nice to hear. Sure, they had fun when they were working together on these dance lessons, but he had never seen Ryan have a good belly laugh like this.

And for some reason, it made Chad really happy to know that he'd brought on such a reaction from his friend...even if it was at his own expense.

"C'mon, give it a try," Chad said, grabbing Ryan's wrist and pulling him down in front of the fan. "We shouldn't let the dogs have ALL the fun."

Ryan smiled and closed his eyes as the cool breeze hit his face...and blew the cap from his head.

"Whoops," Ryan said, turning to go retrieve it, but Chad pushed off Ryan's shoulder as he straightened to run. "You stay there. I'll get it."

Chad took two steps away from the fan...and the wave of heat hit him again. Maybe Ryan was right and they should just cancel their dance lesson today.

But Ryan seemed in SUCH a good mood, and Chad didn't want to let it go to waste. So he scooped up Ryan's cap, which he noted was already a bit wet from sweat, and said, "C'mon, Evans, let's get this PARTY STARTED!"

Ryan turned away from the fan, grinning. "You're sure in a good mood today," he noted.

Chad nodded -- perhaps Ryan's high spirits were infectious. He handed Ryan back his hat and offered a hand to help him off the floor.

"Well," Ryan mused, getting to his feet, "I don't think we'll last too long in this heat, so something slow and easy? Or instead maybe we could review the salsa steps from Tuesday? It's certainly caliente enough for that!"

"Sounds good to me."

"Good. I'm too lazy to teach you something new today anyway." Ryan said with a wink. He slowly stretched his arms above his head and yawned to illustrate his point.

"Dude, don't do that!" Chad objected good-naturedly. "Now you're gonna get ME started!" And sure enough, as soon as he said it, he was hit with the uncontrollable urge to yawn.

Ryan started laughing again as Chad yawned widely, dissolving into giggles as Chad found himself caught in a seemingly never-ending "yawn loop."

"'s not funneh!" Chad protested in a yawn, which of course sent Ryan into new paroxysms of laughter. Soon Chad found that Ryan's laughter was just as contagious as his yawn, and he too was laughing until he feared he would never catch his breath.

The fit of momentary insanity seemed to pass, and Chad took a deep breath, brushing the tears from his eyes. He looked up at Ryan, who was palming away tears from his own flushed cheeks. But the instant their eyes met, both boys started laughing again.

"I'm...so...sorry!" Ryan eventually managed to squeak. "Once I get started...it's...hard...to stop!"

"Dude...it's okay!" Chad wasn't sorry at all. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so much. It felt good.

Finally, Ryan seemed to regain his composure, inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nose to slow his breathing. "Well, that was quite a workout," he said, holding his belly. "How about we take five?" Ryan asked, sitting down on the wooden floor.

Chad chuckled as he joined Ryan on the floor. "'Take five'? We haven't even started dancing yet!"

Ryan shrugged, pulling two bottles of water from his bag. "Well, I need to rehydrate," he said, tossing one to Chad. "We've got to replace all the sweat we've lost."

"And tears, too," Chad said, noticing how Ryan's cheeks were still glowing from his recent giggle fit.

Ryan grinned at him. "If only there was some blood, we could have a '70s R&B band."

Chad chuckled, shaking his head. He couldn't believe Ryan had cracked a joke, albeit a bad one. This was definitely not the driven, hardworking Ryan Evans that he had come to know through weeks of dance lessons.

Which was not to say that he wasn't enjoying THIS unguarded and silly Ryan! Usually he seemed so composed...more like an adult in a teenager's body. It was nice to see Ryan acting his age for once. Chad resolved to bring this side of his friend out more often.

"Dude, what's with you today?" Chad teased.

Ryan shrugged, lying down onto the wooden floor, his knees bent. "I don't know. I think the heat is getting to me." He yawned again, stretching his arms out across the floor above his head, and his yellow-striped polo shirt rode up to reveal a white undershirt beneath it.

"No wonder you're hot," Chad said. "How many shirts are you wearing?"

Ryan lifted his head from the floor to glance down the length of his own body and then shrugged. "I always wear an undershirt," he said, dropping his head back to the floor.

"Even if it kills you?" Chad asked incredulously. "C'mon, it's hotter than the Sahara in here -- you should take off your shirts, or at least one of them."

Ryan propped himself up on his elbow, a lopsided grin on his face. "'Why, Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?'"

Chad stared blankly back at his dance teacher. "Dude, who's Mrs. Robinson?"

Ryan just laughed and shook his head, sitting back up and stripping off his polo shirt. "There," Ryan said, tossing the damp shirt at Chad, "are you happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Chad teased, "I've always wanted one of your preppy shirts all covered in sweat." He tossed the shirt back at Ryan.

"Preppy?!" Ryan widened his eyes in mock indignation as he replaced his hat firmly onto his head. "Them's fightin' words, Danforth. To avenge my tattered honor, I challenge you...to a DANCE-OFF!" he announced, jumping to his feet.

Chad threw his hands up in concession, laughing. "No way, dude. I forfeit. You win."

"What?!" Ryan exclaimed. "I do not believe what I am hearing! Is Chad Danforth backing down from a challenge?"

"Chad Danforth knows when to cut his losses and run," he chuckled, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Bawk-bawk-bawk!" Ryan clucked. "Oh, I know! I can teach you the CHICKEN dance!" He strutted circles around Chad.

"If you're trying to get a rise out of me, Evans, it won't work," Chad smirked. "Anyway, it's too hot for that." To illustrate, he pulled his sticky t-shirt away from his chest to let the air cool his skin.

"Fine," Ryan sniffed. "I guess I'll just dance here all by myself." He pressed "play" on the CD player, and a lively salsa number sounded from the machine.

And then Ryan started dancing, swiveling his hips in time to the rhythm, even trilling out a shrill "Arriba!" as he joyfully lost himself in the beat.

"Okay, stop...STOP!' Chad laughed, leaning over from where he sat and pressing "stop" on the CD player. "Just WATCHING you is making me hot."

Ryan stopped in place and arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he asked provocatively, languidly drawing out every syllable.

Under Ryan's suggestive gaze, Chad blushed despite himself. He had meant the statement innocently enough -- just watching his friend exert all that energy in this sweltering room, moving quickly in time to the fast salsa beat, was making Chad sweat.

But now that he thought about it, the way Ryan moved -- the way his hips gyrated, the way his damp undershirt clung to his chest -- WAS kind of hot in a mesmerizing way.

Just like when Ryan played baseball.

Although it had been weeks since they had played that first baseball game together, Chad could still remember it as if it were yesterday. There had been something about Ryan that day -- his graceful athleticism and self-assured attitude -- that Chad had found truly captivating, making it difficult to concentrate on his game. Of course, Chad had merely dismissed it at the time, chalking it up to the thrill of competition. Afterwards, he didn't give it a second thought.

Until now.

Chad cleared this throat uncomfortably. "I just mean…all the physical exertion…it's too hot in here for that." As he stammered through his sentence, Ryan just stood there grinning.

'What's your problem, dude?' Chad chastised himself. 'Get a grip!'

With renewed resolve, Chad hopped to his feet, stating definitively, "It's too hot for salsa. We gotta do something slow today."

Ryan looked at Chad doubtfully. "Slow?"

"Sure," Chad said, his own confidence returning as all thoughts of Ryan's gyrating hips faded away. "It's just like at track practice -- on days when it's sweltering, Coach knows that there's no point in having us run, so we just lift weights for practice instead."

Ryan gave Chad a weird look. "So you think slow dancing is like weight lifting?"

"Sure," Chad said. "It's gotta be cooler than salsa, right?"

Ryan shrugged, heading over to the CD player. "We'll see about that." He flipped through his CD's until he found something that looked good. Putting it in the player, Ryan hit a few buttons, remarking, "This'll be perfect."

Chad didn't know what he had been expecting – maybe something soppy and orchestral – but it wasn't this. The song started simply and softly, with only a bassline and finger snaps. Even when the vocalist began singing, she was restrained and cool. It wasn't Chad's style of music, by any means, but he had to admit that it was kind of sexy.

Ryan strode confidently over to Chad, turning his newsboy cap backwards. "This is a slow foxtrot," he stated, grabbing Chad's left hand and moving Chad's right hand to the small of his back, placing them in standard ballroom position.

Which put them in extremely close proximity to each other. Chad now realized why Ryan had looked skeptical -- standing in each other's arms was hardly a cooler way to spend their lesson.

But Chad decided it was too late to back out now. He had insisted on dancing slow, and that's what he was going to do.

If only he could remember the steps.

"Foxtrot…," Chad repeated, trying to ignore the heat radiating off of Ryan's sweaty body as he searched his memory for the dance steps. "Um…is that step-together-step?"

At the look of disappointment on his teacher's face, Chad quickly corrected himself, "No wait! I remember now -- it's slow-slow-quick-quick."

Ryan nodded, smiling, and Chad felt relieved. "Whenever you're ready," Ryan encouraged.

Chad awkwardly stepped off, coming down hard on Ryan's foot. Ryan quickly pulled away, hunching over his injured foot with his back to Chad.

"DUDE, I am SO sorry!" Chad stepped around Ryan to face him, but he couldn't see the other boy's face. "I guess I stepped in the wrong direction. Are you okay?" He put a hand on Ryan's shoulder, which felt like it was...shaking?

Chad realized that Ryan was laughing.

"Um...Evans?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Ryan assured as he looked up, waving Chad off. Sitting back on his haunches, he admitted, "I guess I forgot that YOU were leading."

Chad frowned, trying to figure out what had happened. "Wait, so I didn't do anything wrong?"

"And now," Ryan intoned in what Chad had come to think of as Ryan's 'teacher voice,' "we see what happens when two partners try to lead at the same time." Ryan laughed and shrugged. "Oops, my bad."

Chad was relieved that it hadn't been his fault, but he still felt bad that he'd hurt Ryan. "Is your foot gonna be okay?"

"Oh, sure. It's not like you were wearing stilettos or anything."

Chad glanced down at his Nikes, confused.

"I swear," Ryan continued, "Shar only wears those things so she can do the maximum amount of damage."

"Oh! Your sister!" Chad exclaimed, finally deciphering the comment.

Ryan laughed. "What did you THINK I meant?"

Not having a good answer, Chad forcefully grabbed Ryan and pulled him back into ballroom position. "C'mon, let's just dance."

"Lead on," Ryan smiled, adding sheepishly, "and I promise to actually follow this time."

Chad nodded his head, first in response to Ryan and then in time with the music, trying to find a good place to start. Finally, once he felt comfortable with the rhythm, he began dancing, making sure his first step was light, just in case he stepped on Ryan's foot again. Luckily he didn't, and before he knew it, they were dancing effortlessly across the floor.

"You're doing great," Ryan said in his teacher voice. "But you've got to stop looking at your feet."

Chad frowned. "Then where SHOULD I look?"

Ryan shrugged, a motion Chad saw in Ryan's shoulders yet felt in Ryan's back. "It depends on WHY you're dancing."

Chad didn't follow. "Huh?"

"Well," Ryan explained, "if you're dancing to perform, then you want to look out -- to connect with your audience. But if you're dancing to...you know, just DANCE, then you want to look in your partner's eyes."

Knowing that he probably wouldn't be performing this type of dance any time soon, Chad looked up and met Ryan's eyes. Chad was worried that he wouldn't be able to remember the steps without looking at his feet, but somehow he was continuing to dance. He smiled, pleased with himself for having come so far in only a few weeks. Ryan smiled back, and Chad noticed for the first time how the corners of Ryan's eyes crinkled when he grinned. He also noticed how pale Ryan's eyes were...and how they were staring at him meaningfully...

And how it suddenly seemed MUCH warmer in the room.

"Dude, I can't do this anymore." Chad shook his head and took a step back from his dance partner, trying to cool down by putting more space between him and Ryan's warm body. It occurred to him that he'd be a lot cooler if he was shirtless. As Chad reached for the bottom hem of his sweaty t-shirt, he noticed that Ryan's smile had completely disappeared. In fact, the other boy now looked almost sick.

"You okay?" Chad asked in concern, pulling his shirt off over his head. "You need more water?"

Ryan's expression was now one of utter confusion, and Chad wondered if the heat was getting to him. Chad bent to pick up Ryan's water bottle from the floor. "Here," he said, handing his friend the bottle. "Your face is all red -- you better drink some."

"Uh...th-thanks," Ryan stammered, accepting the bottle with a nod of his head. He removed his hat and set it gently on his bag before leaning his head back to take a long drink of water. Next he poured water into his cupped hand and splashed it onto his face. Then, to Chad's amusement, Ryan shook his head briskly, sending droplets of water flying in all directions.

"NOW who looks like a dog?" Chad laughed as he tucked his shed t-shirt into the back waistband of his shorts.

Ryan grinned widely at Chad, seemingly revived by the cool water. "You know what they say – when in Rome..."

"...shake like a dog after a bath?" Chad joked, happy to see that the other boy was feeling better.

Ryan groaned at the quip, giving Chad a playful shove. "Mr. Danforth, I believe that kind of comment calls for swift and severe punishment," he said in an exaggerated parody of his teacher voice. He actually sounded a little like Ms. Darbus, Chad noted with an involuntary shudder.

"So what'll it be, Mr. Evans?" Chad teased. "Detention? Dunce cap? Lines on the blackboard?"

Ryan grinned wickedly, a gleam in his eyes. "Worse. Oh, SO much worse."

"Bring it on, Evans." Chad fell back into a defensive martial arts pose and flashed a cocky smile. "Bring it ON."

"If you insist." Ryan crossed his arms over his chest to grab the hem of his white undershirt. Then, with surprising speed, he yanked the shirt off over his head.

Well, Chad certainly wasn't expecting THAT. He stared at Ryan, speechless.

Ryan, however, was still putting on a performance. He whipped the shirt in circles above his head and tossed it across the room with a grand flourish, declaring in a booming voice, "Gaze upon my dazzling whiteness, IF YOU DARE! Bwa-ha-ha-HA!"

Chad was suddenly struck by the complete and utter absurdity of the situation. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that the sight of a half-naked Ryan Evans doing supervillain poses in the yoga studio at Lava Springs ranked pretty high on his "weird shit I've seen in my life" list.

Not that he wasn't enjoying it. In fact, this was definitely the most entertaining, if least productive, dance lesson yet!

And Ryan hadn't been exaggerating -- his chest was the palest shade of white Chad had ever seen. But it was also lean and toned -- obviously, Ryan's yoga workouts, while not exactly turning him into Arnold Schwarzenegger, were definitely keeping him fit. No wonder he could pitch a baseball so well -- underneath his dancer's exterior, he had the muscles of a real athlete.

All these observations came to Chad in an instant, right before he playfully shielded his face from the sight of Ryan's chest, crying out melodramatically, "My eyes! My eyes!"

Ryan grinned. "See, that's what you get if you don't behave," he taunted.

Chad couldn't help but raise the ante. "That's it?" he challenged. "So what happens if I don't behave AGAIN?"

Ryan raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a sinister manner as he considered the question. "I think the next step would be blinding you with my equally white legs…followed, perhaps, by some sort of water torture out at the pool."

"Ooh -- poolside torture!" Chad said, pretending to shiver in his shoes. "Wouldn't Gabriella frown on that sort of thing?"

Ryan shrugged. "I'm sure I could pay her to look the other way."

"Hey, money can't buy you everything, you know," Chad laughed. "And Gabriella's MY friend, too."

"But how GOOD a friend? Would she help you move dead bodies?"

"I can move my OWN dead bodies," Chad said, doing a muscle man pose, "'cuz I ain't SCRAWNY like some people."

Ryan gasped melodramatically. "Okay, this means war," he teased, reaching for the waistband of his pants. "It's time for the pasty leg torture."

"Oh no! Not the legs!" Chad teased. Suddenly the whole situation made that Nelly song start playing in his head and he couldn't help but sing aloud: "'It's gettin' hot in here, so take off all your clothes.'"

Ryan instantly stopped what he was doing and stared blankly at Chad.

"Dude, you don't KNOW that song?!" Chad asked, shocked.

"That's a REAL song?" Ryan asked, aghast.

Chad shook his head. "Welcome to the 21st century, man -- maybe you should start listening to some REAL music," he said, gesturing towards the CD player that was repeating the same slow foxtrot yet again.

"This is Peggy Lee!" Ryan squeaked indignantly, his voice comically high-pitched. "This is a CLASSIC!"

Chad hadn't expected such a raw reaction, and he quickly tried to backtrack. "I'm just saying that maybe you should listen to some NEW stuff, too." Chad was relieved to see Ryan's defensiveness start to dissipate, and suddenly he was struck with an idea. "Hey, I know -- I'll make you a CD of some good stuff. You know, kind of EASE you into the 21st century music scene."

Ryan looked bemused. "You're gonna make me a mix CD?"

"Sure," Chad said, already starting to think about what songs he wanted to share with Ryan. "It'll be good for you -- 'expand your musical horizons', as Ms. Darbus might say. Who knows -- you might find that you like some of it."

"Okay," Ryan agreed warily, "but only on one condition."

Chad couldn't resist the urge to tease again; he pretended to cower, saying, "No, PLEASE don't show me your pasty white legs."

Ryan shoved Chad playfully. "No, you dork! I get to make YOU a mix CD, too."

"Of what -- showtunes?!" Chad made a sour face. "Maybe I'd PREFER your pasty legs."

"Hey!" Ryan said, shoving him again.

"Showtunes suck!" Chad stated matter-of-factly as he playfully returned the shove. "I should know -- I've heard my mom play 'Phantom of the Opera' about a zillion times."

Ryan scowled. "Andrew Lloyd Webber?" he said with disgust. "No WONDER you hate showtunes! But believe me, there are tons of GOOD shows out there. I'll definitely be able to change your mind."

"Oh yeah?!" Chad challenged.

Ryan grinned and nodded smugly. "Just you wait! I will make an entire CD of showtunes that you'll like. Correction...LOVE."

"No way," Chad scoffed.

"Hey, don't count me out before I've even tried!" Ryan argued, adding confidently, "You know how persuasive I can be. I got you to dance in the talent show, didn't I?"

Chad nodded weakly, reluctant to concede the point.

"In fact, I'm so persuasive, I've got you coming back for dance lessons twice a week." Ryan crossed his arms, clearly satisfied the matter was settled.

"Yeah, but for WHAT?!" Chad teased, pointing out, "We haven't gotten ANYTHING done today."

Ryan's eyes widened as he laughed, "Hey, that's not MY fault! YOU'RE leading!"

"Yeah...well...you're teaching!"

Chad frowned. The argument had sounded a lot stronger in his head.

Ryan didn't answer; he merely smirked, just as he had standing on the pitcher's mound at the employee baseball game.

And just as HE had on that day, Chad was suddenly struck by the overwhelming desire to wipe that smug grin off Ryan's face. Even if it meant dancing in this sweltering room.

"C'mon," Chad ordered, putting a hand on Ryan's bare shoulder to lead him back to the center of the room. "Let's do this."

Ryan nodded in bemused agreement but stubbornly refused to move his arms until Chad manipulated him into ballroom position.

Chad counted silently to himself as he waited for a good musical entrance, then stepped off confidently, leading his partner in a competent foxtrot. For the first time all evening, neither boy spoke; instead, the shirtless pair wordlessly glided across the floor to the music. Suddenly remembering Ryan's instruction to not look at his feet, Chad raised his eyes to meet Ryan's and found his teacher smugly smiling back at him. Chad shut his eyes so he could concentrate on the beat without the visual distraction, determined to dance well despite Ryan's goading.

After a moment, Ryan laughed aloud, breaking the silence. Chad cursed under his breath as he mis-stepped, annoyed with himself that his concentration was so easily broken

Unable to get back on the beat, Chad came to a complete stop, growling, "WHAT?!"

"I told you I could be persuasive." Ryan said matter-of-factly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

At Chad's glare, Ryan laughed. "I'm just teasing! You're doing great, really!"

Chad shook his head. "Whatever, man."

"No, really," Ryan said earnestly. "You're dancing beautifully today. You just need to RELAX!"

"I AM relaxed," Chad lied, becoming more aware of the tension in his shoulders as he said it.

Ryan stepped back from Chad, their hands remaining in ballroom position. "Look at yourself! You're rigid as...well...um...actually...to tell the truth, I don't know how to finish that sentence without it sounding dirty," he admitted bashfully, adding, "But look – you're all stiff!" Ryan squeezed Chad's tense shoulder for emphasis and then demonstrated what he wanted by rolling his own shoulders around loosely. "Loosen up! We don't have an audience; it's just you and me. Try to relax and have some fun!" He smiled at Chad encouragingly.

Chad noticed that the room was suddenly silent, save for the gentle whir of the CD player cycling back to repeat the track.

"Ooh, and here's the perfect opportunity," Ryan chirped, "The song's starting again." He nodded at Chad, who immediately took the cue, pulling Ryan close again.

As Chad repositioned his hand to the small of Ryan's bare back, he was suddenly struck by how different this felt. Although a cotton t-shirt was only millimeters thick, he suddenly realized how much of a barrier it truly was. With nothing between his hand and Ryan's skin, he could feel every muscle move, every tendon stretch, even though they hadn't yet started dancing.

Again, the finger snaps and bassline sounded. Again, Chad stepped off, leading Ryan in a slow foxtrot. Again, it took him a few steps before he remembered to look into Ryan's eyes.

Yet this time, it was completely different. It was suddenly as if all his senses had been heightened, and Chad was now uncomfortably aware of every small detail of the boy he held in his arms.

He could see the faint freckles on Ryan's nose. He could smell the spicy, clean fragrance of the soap Ryan used. He could feel the droplets of sweat gently trickling down Ryan's spine.

He could also hear the sultry lyrics, which Ryan was smoothly moving in time to:

"Never know how much I love you, never know how much I care.

When you put your arms around me, I get a fever that's so hard to bear."

And he now could see how pink Ryan's lips looked against his pale face.

When later pressed for an answer, Chad would shrug and claim he had no idea what had made him kiss Ryan Evans on that sweltering mid-August evening. But truthfully, the reasons were plenty.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity to Chad. His senses still on overdrive, he could taste the salty sweat on Ryan's mouth. He could feel the softness of Ryan's lips. He could hear the music, playing on:

"You give me fever -- when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight."

And he could feel the startled intake of breath as Ryan gasped and pulled back.

Chad opened his eyes and saw a dozen emotions playing across Ryan's face: shock, surprise, confusion, disbelief. And eventually comprehension. Followed by delight. And raw desire.

Before he knew it, Ryan was kissing him, and for an instant, those same emotions Chad had just witnessed on the other boy's face raced through his own mind.

When he arrived at 'raw desire,' Chad forcefully pulled Ryan closer to him, wrapping his other arm around Ryan's back. With their bare chests now tightly pressed together, Chad could feel Ryan's heart hammering. He could hear Ryan's shallow breathing. He could feel...

Suddenly, Ryan's tongue was in his mouth. Startled, Chad took a step back...and found himself falling. Chad instantly let go of Ryan, his arms flailing out as he tried to catch his balance, stepping back awkwardly over the corner of the box fan which had just come crashing to the floor.

The thunderous clatter reverberated throughout the room. As it faded, Chad noticed the lyrics to the song once more:

"Fever -- till you sizzle, what a lovely way to burn."

"Hey Chad," Troy's voice sounded in the doorway. "I knew I'd find you here,"

Chad jumped and turned around. "Hey," was all he could answer, still in a daze from what had just happened.

"So some of those U of A guys dropped by, and they totally want to play a quick pick-up game. You in?"

"I..." Chad's dumbfounded mind couldn't even form a coherent thought, let alone speak one.

Walking over towards his friend, Troy didn't seem to notice that Chad was dazed. Instead, Troy merely looked past him, continuing, "That is, if Ryan doesn't mind if you cut your lesson a little short today."

Chad quickly turned at the sound of Ryan's name and saw the blond boy hurriedly righting the fallen fan. "Yeah, that's fine," Ryan mumbled, not even looking up.

"Man, how hot is it in here?" Troy asked, wiping his hand across his now-sweating forehead. "No wonder you guys have your shirts off." Turning back to Chad, he said, "C'mon, dude. We gotta hurry, or else they'll start without us." He patted Chad on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Though Chad didn't comprehend a single word, something about Troy's tone made him nod and mindlessly follow his friend across the room.

"See ya later, Ryan," Troy called out as he and Chad stepped out the door, leaving Ryan alone in the hot studio as the opening bassline and finger snaps sounded once more.

TO BE CONTINUED