It was for the fans, that's what Len always told himself. On stage, Piko would grab his hips just for a moment, the crowd would scream, the lights were blinding, he felt euphoric. It was just for the fans, when Piko would pass by, slap his ass, and saunter away, winking.
They were compared to the sun and the moon, caught in a dance around and around, around and around each other. The spotlights served as stars and guided their path through the otherwise dim stage. When they were together, they felt like they were the only one's in their little galaxy, but the roaring of the crowd always brought them back to reality.
It was just for the fans, Piko told himself, when he'd lift Len's chin with his fingers and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It was just for the fans when he'd pull Len closer on stage and tease him. Because that's all it really was, right? The fans loved it, their exhilarated screams filled the room, their fantasies satisfied.
It was just an act, just for the fans, but Len found himself leaning into Piko's touch when he would throw his arm around his shoulder. He would pretend that it didn't turn him on when Piko would give his bum a quick squeeze, that his body didn't react the way it did when Piko would grab his hips.
It was just an act, but this performance was becoming too real. Their small little galaxy was expanding.
That night, they were alone on the tour bus when Piko squeezed Len's ass as he was reaching for chips in the cupboard. The quiet hum of the street lights outside felt thunderous in Len's ears. He froze in movement.
"You alright?" Piko asked. His hand was still there, lingering.
"Yes." Len breathed. Len didn't know what to say. He forgot the chips in the cupboard and lowered his hand. He turned to face Piko.
Before Len had the chance to speak, Piko leaned down to press his lips against Len's. He stood a few inches taller, and cradled Len's head in his hand, tilting it up. It was just a whisper of kiss, a question. Len moved his hands to the small of Piko's back, for lack of knowing what to do with them. Len leaned into the kiss; then the sun and the moon truly collided. Piko's kiss was soft, but the feeling accumulating in Len's chest was not. It was kerosine and fire, the night sky and barbed wire. He felt tight, he felt free; he felt Piko's lips murmur "relax" against his own. Piko was so soft and soothing compared to the burning in his fingertips.
Piko pulled away. The kiss was just a test of the waters. He didn't want to scare Len away. Piko waited for Len to react, leaned his forehead against his. Piko felt Len's breath, stray blonde hairs tickled his nose.
Len breathed in deep. He was so close he could count Piko's individual eyelashes, one by one. He saw stars in his eyes. Then, Len hesitantly, slowly, pulled Piko flush against him. Len's breath hitched in his throat, his body shuddered. He opened his mouth for Piko; Piko obliged. How the moon could so easily take over the sun, Len did not know. His galaxy, always so safe and orderly, was rearranging. Something knew was forming, and it made Len's stomach feel tight. He gave into the moon. They blended as water colors do, moving from the front of the bus to a couch in the back, lips never breaking, Piko leading the way. He was guided to lay down. Piko could feel the trembling of Len's tiny hands, the quaking of his fingertips. They once again broke apart.
"Are you okay?" Len felt Piko's words tickle his ear. Len only nodded in response, and Piko climbed overtop of him. Len's hands remained restless on Piko's shoulders and back. Piko moved to hold both of Len's hands in his, kissing them softly.
"I don't want you to be afraid."
"I'm not." Len barely spoke above a whisper.
The moon brought the sun close, and they couldn't stop kissing. Len let out a small laugh when Piko flicked his tongue over his neck, and Len could feel Piko smile against his skin. They were in their own galaxy, as they were on stage. The sun's fear for his changing galaxy vanished; he knew the moon was meant to be there all along. The moon smelled dark, like sweat and cologne. Len panted against Piko's neck and he tried to stop the feeling from spreading, but it was too late.
It had always been too late.
Written by BB.