Yay. Rachel has a new story out! Rated M? Hmm? And it's the first one? Exciting!

Okay so, for my first time readers: this isn't technically the first M rated thing I've written. If you haven't read Prince Debut, skip over to that after reading this and check out Chapter 20 :D It's a little more descript with this.

For my not first time readers: Welcome back! I know you missed me.

So I have to admit, this might get a little confusing, and it might not. It might completely captivate you, and it might not. Just let it do what it does. Also, I always hate when people base stories off of songs, but look at Miss Cliché here. I'm sorry, but this really is the absolute perfect song. Period. If you want to listen to it, just pop on over to Youtube and look it up, Butterfly by Jason Mraz, it's like five minutes and the story will actually make a lot of sense after hearing it. But if you don't want to, I won't be offended. It'll still (hopefully) make sense.

So honestly this story's not that descript. I had a lot more I wanted to do with it, but I really lost myself writing and then I was just too pleased to go back and change it. Plus, mom was rushing me to go shower. So... :D

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I'd really appreciate any reviews, because it motivates me to write more (I mean I'm not doing this for my health). But I know you guys are buuusy (though surely not busy enough to not review which takes like a couple minutes tops), so if you don't, that's cool. Also, feel free to leave me a message, I try to reply to those as much as I can and well... I've blabbed enough :D Enjoy.

OH! And for anyone who just wants to skip to the (short) sexy part, just ctrl+f "gibberish", that's about where it starts. Okay! Have fun! But not too much fun ;)


I didn't have a partner for the dance competition, not that that was rare. Instead, I just sat back and watched. I knew I was a good dancer; I didn't need some silly competition to remind me. All of the dances were mediocre, at least every other partner pair messed up their footing or their timing, and the rest preformed lackluster dances.

I stayed to see who won the competition, and I wasn't surprised when Klaus and Cynthia claimed the trophy once again. If only I had a dance partner, their shelf would be dust dry. I didn't know Klaus well, but I figured a congratulations was in order anyway when I waited for the hall to clear out.

"Hey, congrats on winning, your dancing was phenomenal." I lied; Cynthia nodded a quick thanks before leaving Klaus and I for a group of giggling girls.

Klaus, however, was much more appreciative. "Thank you so much, Luciano. It's a shame you don't have a partner; I know you'd blow us away if you did."

Damn straight, I told him in my head. I came here to be nice, so I kept my mouth shut, but Klaus and I both knew that I was the superior dancer. It only made sense. I have years and years of experience under my belt. I've traveled all around the world to learn the roots of the dances. I've traveled to Latin America to learn the Samba and all around Europe to learn the Waltz. I've danced with dozens of professional partners with even more experience and knowledge than I. But Klaus had something I lacked, and it ate away at me not knowing what made him better. He was more at ease on stage, more charismatic. But even with my taught smiles and carefree moves, he was truly comfortable. He lost himself in the music and the dance. Something I've never been able to master.

I laughed cordially. "Hey, all it takes is some practice. I'm sure you'd be ten times better than me if you just had a few pointers."

His face lit up. "You could teach me Luciano!"

I felt my face burning up and I turned even redder with the aggravation that I was blushing in the first place. I fumbled with my cufflinks. "Uh, that's a great idea, but I'm not so sure we'd be able to fit it into our schedule. With my dance lessons and your practices with Cynthia…"

"Time isn't an issue. Cynthia and I would be up for any time of the day. Heck, if you wanted to do it at three o'clock in the morning, we'd be up and ready. Just name a time and we'll be prepared."

I really hadn't planned on actually teaching Klaus, but I soon realized that this would be my opportunity to learn how Klaus could move so easily on the floor and I quickly accepted. "Hey, I actually have tomorrow off. Why don't I meet you at the Practice Hall at say eight?"

"Say eight it is," his smile stretched from ear to ear and my stomach flopped. Before I was able to say anything, Klaus was already running off, shouting Cynthia's name on the way.

And that's how it all began.

I watch as Klaus and Cynthia warm up. Their informality is intriguing. They stretch in funny positions and make funny noises and laugh at nothing. Of course, they discuss what they're going to dance, but none of that matters. What's most important is that they're being completely unprofessional. They're even dressed in easy clothes, Klaus in sweatpants, Cynthia in a baggy shirt-dress.

Klaus jogs over and stretches as he addresses me. He rocks from side to side and pulls both arms as he asks me what I want him to dance to. I tell him that I'd like to see a classic ballroom dance and a Latin dance.

Cynthia is bending down by an ancient looking boom box and she turns around before popping in a CD. "Is it okay if we play some more contemporary music, or would you prefer classical?"

"It's your choice," I tell her and she plays the CD, skipping to the song she wants.

They start off with a Waltz to a song I quickly recognize as Beautiful Mess by Jason Mraz. It's slow and the melody flows through the room like a warm summer breeze. Klaus and Cynthia are completely at ease, and they smile at each other as they let the music take them to their own world. They seem totally involved with other. They look in each other's eyes and they're not counting steps, they're in love and that's all they need.

I silently take note to their moves, but they don't mess up. Their footing is spot on, their posture unimaginably perfect. They don't ask how they did when they finish; Cynthia just bends down and changes the song again.

This song is Butterfly, again by Jason Mraz. From there, they dance the Samba. The song is provocative and I feel a twinge of jealousy watching Klaus dance with Cynthia. He whoops and sings with the song, and Cynthia laughs loudly as he spins her around the floor. I can tell he's making up some of the moves as he goes along, but the spontaneity of their dance fits the song perfectly, and before I know it they're sucking me into the music too. I smile as Klaus makes up some silly move and Cynthia giggles. They never lose themselves too much into the song that their moves don't fit the music or they stand for a moment trying to think up something. The song slows for a moment and Cynthia shoots Klaus a sultry look. His face and neck turn pink and she wags her finger and he moves towards her and she's pulling him in. I suddenly feel dirty watching them. They move as one, like an experienced couple in their most intimate moments.

Suddenly they're not dancing anymore. Suddenly I'm not watching them, looking for mistakes and room for improvement. Cynthia and Klaus are making love in some place warm and sensual. Cynthia shoots Klaus looks to kill and right as she tosses her hair back, I'm sure she's climaxing. But instead, she takes us to a street in some Latin American country, and I'm watching a happy couple shake to the music. The music is just a series of doo-wops, but it's perfect. I keep check on their footing, which never slips, but I'm not even paying attention to their moves. They move fluidly, and I'm absorbing their happiness. I let their light take me in and I'm feeding off their performance.

The music slows; Klaus belts out a low "Butterfly, baby you've got it all." The song ends and I'm back in the practice hall. Their faces are flushed, and even though they're panting, they're not in agony. They're not remotely tired or upset. Rather, they're happy. They've been running and playing like children. Even if they're ready to collapse, they don't regret it one bit. I'm moved by their dance. I'm jealous of their ability. They're technicality may not be perfect, but I've never been able to escape into some dance like they have. I've never been able to captivate an audience like I've just been captivated. I can't decide how to respond. I'm so angry that they're truly better than me, but I'm also delighted with their skill. I take a moment, gather my breath, and regain my composure. "That was excellent," I tell them professionally. I stand up and my legs are weak. I'm exhausted from just watching them perform. I'm not feeding off their dance, and I'm craving the light.

Cynthia squeals with my compliment and Klaus grins. They both knew it was a rare occasion for me to hand out compliments. "What do we need to work on?" Cynthia asks, her concentration fixated on just me.

I look to the both of them, trying to remember anything I saw. I was so swept away that it took me a moment to come back to Earth. "Well, I could tell that you two were making up some of the moves in the Samba as you went along," their smiles fall. "But it worked perfectly for the dance." Then they perk right back up.

"What about individually what do we need to work on?" Klaus asks. His carefree nature is completely gone, and he's serious. I was fooled by their dance. They've obviously worked hard to perfect it, and they're never stopping their improvements.

"Cynthia, that was amazing. I'd like to work with Klaus privately if you don't mind though," she gives Klaus a sympathetic look before leaving. I knew she thought I was going to rip him a new one, but that wasn't my intention at all.

Cynthia leaves and I tell Klaus that his dance was perfect. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but I need your help," I tell him. "Your Samba was so carefree and perfect, how do you do that?"

Klaus shrugs. "I just sort of let the music do what it wants with me."

I expected that answer, but it's not good enough for me. "Music isn't an animate object; it can't physically move someone. There has to be something else that you did."

"I mean, we made up the moves before we started letting the music take us so we weren't fumbling around, but once we did that, we just had fun."

I choose my words carefully. My head is swarming with questions, but I have to choose just one at a time, so I try to pick the most important one. "How are you able to dance so comfortably?"

"I'm just comfortable with the atmosphere. Honestly, I've heard that song a million times. I dance in the practice hall every day, and I've been dating Cynthia for years. It's just familiar to me."

Even being too humble right now, Klaus is charming. I bet that's how Cynthia can dance so freely with him. I look down at my shoes as I ask "Can I dance with you?"

He seems surprised by my question. "Of course. I'm not so sure how well it'll turn out since we're both guys, but I can try to do Cynthia's moves…"

"No need, I'm a professional dancer, I know how Cynthia danced. Just pretend I'm her."

"So you want me to pretend you're my girlfriend?" he raises his eyebrows and I can't tell if he's honestly flirting or just making fun.

"Yes." I blurt and try to remain calm when I realize that I'm already not conscious of what I'm saying. Klaus has already taken over and the music hasn't even started yet.

He smiles and I know he can tell that I'm freaking out on the inside. I can't believe myself, but when I take Klaus's hand in mine, I can't help but feel a deep longing feeling. I wish that I really was his girlfriend. This must be the way all the other girls feel about him.

He turns the song back to Butterfly, and I try my best to mimic Cynthia's moves, but Klaus keeps stopping me and telling me to just follow his lead. Before I know it, he's swept me off my feet and into his Samba. I find myself twisting and turning and singing along to a song I've only heard a few times. The music slows and I'm taken to the bedroom, and I'm seducing Klaus. He responds quickly to my actions, and we're making love. I try to remember what Cynthia did because I could tell the song was quickly leaving its intimate part. I toss my head back, and we're back on the streets in Brazil. Everything is clearer dancing with Klaus than watching him. I could nearly feel the crisp sheets under my arms and I can feel the heat of the Latin American sun beating down on my shoulders. I hear the crowd that's gathered to watch us and out of the corner of my eyes I can see the foreign band playing the music. Someone's playing the drums, another's playing the trumpet. Klaus is singing to me. He's charming me with his captivating doo-wops and my heart races when he places his hands on my hips. I lose track of time, I'm exhilarated by his touch. Before I know it the song is slowing down, Klaus belts out "Butterfly, baby you've got it all," and I find my way to his lips.

I don't know the song that plays next, but Klaus doesn't stop it. He doesn't stop our dance and we're not even dancing, but he's enchanting me in a whole new way. My heart flutters and I never want to leave his grip. He breaks away and my lips plead for his and I find them again. I don't know if we've been kissing for seconds or hours, but logic suddenly kicks in and I separate. "I'm so sorry," his face is flushed and I feel mine turning red too. "I just got lost in the song."

"It's easy to do," he smiles. He doesn't seem disgusted with kissing me, but I feel guilty for kissing him.

"I think you're just a good teacher."

He walks over to the boom box and turns the music off. "You really lost yourself there," he says finally.

"Your moves are captivating," I tell him.

"I could say the same about yours. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were actually seducing me."

"It's the song."

He takes a step closer to me. "Is that all?" he smirks and wraps his arms around my waist.

"It's your skill." I correct myself.

"Just my skill?" he closes his eyes and leans in closer. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek and I melt into him.

"It's you." And I kiss him.

The practice hall is empty, as always, and I don't expect anyone to be arriving soon. I don't know how we got there, but Klaus and I are on the ground. I blame it on his capture of me again. My breathing gets heavier and his follows. Suddenly I'm roasting, and I'm aching for him to help me cool off.

I run my hands up his T-Shirt; it's green and has some gibberish about some brand I've never heard of written across it. He helps me take it off, not missing a beat. I run my hands all over his soft chest and back. I let his soft hairs tickle my fingers and I trail my hand down his stomach. He rips open my shirt and kisses my chest. I feel his lips pulling me the way Cynthia's one wagging finger pulled him. My chest and back arch towards him as he slides his hands under me. He kisses my neck and I run my hands through his soft pink hair. I lightly moan his name as he traces circles on my neck with his tongue. I begin to whimper as he licks his tongue up and down my chest. He nips at my nipples. He's teasing me and I'm begging for him to stop.

He runs his hand down my stomach, using the other to prop him up. He stops for a moment and his eyes are glazed over. "Do you really want me to stop?" he grabs the top of my pants.

"No." I reply gruffly and kick my shoes off. In one swift motion, he's able to take my pants off and fling them across the room. Within moments, he's taken off his pants too and he grinds into me. I outline circles on his groin before grasping onto it. "Please Klaus," I plead, and he knows exactly what I mean.

He kicks off his boxers and pulls mine off too. He doesn't waste any time from here; he strokes my length long enough to pull me in and out of ecstasy. Right as I feel myself about to burst, he stops and begins shoving into me. The pressure is intense, but it drives me to new levels of animation. I'm feeding off of his light again, and I can't get enough. I moan and gasp and my body craves for more of him. Everything becomes hazy and we're in the bedroom making love. The music plays in the background and it builds up.

I throw my head back as I begin to come, I feel him pulsating inside of me and my heart races. We're not transported into the streets of Brazil this time; we're back at the practice hall. He pulls out and his cum dribbles down the back of my thigh. My body is numb and I feel filled. I'm filled with Klaus and his happiness. I know that this is how I become the best dancer I can. I feel the carefree love that Klaus always feels. And I know that he's the one I'm going to dance with to captivate.