Katie: You've been practicing.
Jimmy: Yeah, Chazz taught me a couple of things.

Practice Makes Perfect

"I don't know about this, Chazz," Jimmy said, perched on the edge of the top bunk of their shared bed. He'd already changed into his favorite pair of pajamas – lavender fleece with bunnies all down the legs – and brushed his hair into angelic waves the way his three live-in nannies had taught him long before he'd been unceremoniously dispatched from his adopted father's care and considerable wealth. Coach was, perhaps, the one remaining relic of his childhood, and Jimmy was determined to win the gold for him, if nothing else. He'd vowed to do whatever it took; he just didn't realize that that might mean shacking up with his on-ice rival. It was truly the act of a desperate man.

Chazz Michael Michaels swaggered out of the adjoining bathroom, naked except for the towel around his waist, imprinted with an enlarged image of his own face. "You wanna impress your lady friend, don't you?" he said, striking a seductive pose.

"Yeah, I do," Jimmy mumbled, and he did. Katie was the first girl he'd kissed besides his adopted sister, Gina, who had been the reigning female body-building champion in the under-12 division until she'd lost her footing during a particularly grueling weight-lift that left her chugging oatmeal through a straw. He'd never been able to spend time with many girls because of his own strict training schedules, but he thought about them sometimes, especially how they always seemed to smell nice and kept their hair shiny. Still, his experience with women was woefully little, which was where Chazz came in. Where Jimmy wasn't particularly determined to sex anyone up right away, the self-proclaimed sex addict seemed to take his lack of nookie as a personal affront to manhood everywhere.

The man in question tugged on his own pajama bottoms, black with flames licking up the sides, and a wife beater. Where Jimmy was fey, light and airy, Chazz Michael Michaels was dark, smoldering sex appeal. Every gesture, every pair of skin-tight leather pants was designed for catching the eye of his latest conquest. Women never stuck around for long, but it was just enough, Chazz would say, for them to get the full Chazz Michael Michaels Experience. "Ladies don't stick around for long," he told Jimmy now. "But it's just enough for them to get the full Chazz Michael Michaels Experience." He struck a lewd pose that seemed designed purely to emphasize his crotch.

"Right," Jimmy said, and hopped off the top bunk. "I don't think I want to woo a bunch of women," he said honestly. "I just like Katie."

"MacElroy, when I'm through with you, you'll be able to have any Katie in the world," Chazz said throatily, coming up behind Jimmy for dramatic effect. His breath was hot against Jimmy's ear, and the cologne he wore smelled like something a lumberjack might use. Jimmy fought a losing battle not to squirm. "Don't be intimidated," Chazz chuckled. "I mean, everybody is a little."

Jimmy felt his heart race and struggled not to move away. Ever since he was little, he had had space issues. "Have – have you ever done this before?" he gasped as he felt Chazz's hand brush his hair off his shoulder.

"I've schooled some eager souls in the ways of The Chazz," Chazz responded. "Fear not, grasshopper: you're in safe hands."

"If you say so," Jimmy swallowed.

Chazz meandered around him until the two men were at eye level. "The first rule of Chazz Kwon Do is to lock in on your target with your eyes. Learning how to properly Look at someone is just like learning how to land a triple axel," Chazz said, his voice husky and tinged with danger now. "It takes guts and perseverance. Screw it up, and you're toast. But pull it off, and you are a God."

"Lock in. Got it," Jimmy said, wetting his lips nervously.

"Rule number two is the lean in," Chazz continued. "Most people go in from the right. You, however, are a pupil of the School of Chazz Michael Michaels. You," Chazz enunciated, poking Jimmy's chest with his forefinger, "you go in from the left."

"What if um, I'm like, sitting next to Katie and I have to go in from the right?" Jimmy asked.

"Damn it, man!" Chazz yelled; Jimmy stumbled backwards a little, surprised. "I have trained many men in the timeless art of seduction, Chazz vowed. "But I cannot be expected to teach if the student does not wish to be schooled!"

"… How many guys have you done this with?" Jimmy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Look, MacElroy, when they came to me, they were but boys. After Chazz Michael Michaels had them, they were men. I can do that for you, too, Jimmy," Chazz said. "But you have to want it. More than anything." He widened his eyes in a piercing gaze. "Do you want it?" he barked, pumping his fist in the air as if he were addressing an auditorium full of fans.

"I want it!" Jimmy said quickly.

Chazz's mouth quirked into a smile. "That's all I wanted to hear," he said, and then grabbed Jimmy by the back of the head, tugging him closer and leaning in for a kiss.

Instinctively, Jimmy pulled away, backing up several paces. "What the Hell?" he gasped.

Chazz rolled his eyes. "Well, how else do you expect to learn?" he said exasperatedly.

Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "I don't know," he said, grimacing. "I thought we'd like, practice on our hands or something first."

Chazz chuckled. "It's okay to be nervous," he said, smiling rakishly. "It's not easy taking on the Chazzmeister, after all." Jimmy still didn't budge, and he sighed. "Look," he said, less predatorily, "we could take it slow, or I could just throw you in the middle of the lake in your underwear."

"Huh?" Jimmy said, crinkling his brow.

"I'm giving you the crash course because I think you can handle it. Now, if you don't think so, then I guess we can take baby steps, but I think you're ready for the master. I believe in you, Jimmy," Chazz said. "The question is: do you believe in yourself?"

Jimmy stepped forward again bravely. "I do," he said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "Okay, I'm ready. Lay it on me."

The first kiss had way too much tongue, as evidenced by Jimmy's gagging. "Technically, you're the one who'll be making that move," Chazz explained after Jimmy wasn't doubled over anymore. "Lock in, lean in, and then lunge."

"I'm not sure if Katie really wants me to taste her tonsils," Jimmy said, still shuddering. "Aren't there any moves that are less … intrusive?"

"Never fear, my little Mackerel," Chazz grinned. "When I'm through with you, you'll be able to write a kissing cookbook." He leaned in again, this time planting a soft, fluttering smooch square on Jimmy's mouth. "The butterfly kiss," he said, and demonstrated it again.

"Well, that one's okay," Jimmy mumbled, trying to ignore how Chazz's stubble kept rubbing against his face. He tried to mimic the kiss, keeping his arms firmly pressed against his sides. He felt Chazz's hands trailing down his neck and chest and shoved him away. "This is all moving really fast for me," he gasped, rushing to the bunk bed and grabbing a pillow to hold against his front. "Just above the neck for now, okay?" he pleaded.

"Okay, man, sure," Chazz shrugged. They continued practicing kisses for the better part of the hour, starting off chaste and working their way up to more complex techniques. Jimmy was practicing sucking on Chazz's tongue when Coach strode by their room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a copy of Men's Health in the other. He made a small noise of surprise, causing Chazz and Jimmy to leap apart, Jimmy still clutching his pillow like a life preserver. "Hey, Coach. Just uh, teaching my partner here how to make good with the ladies, you know?" Chazz said nonchalantly.

"Uh huh,' Coach said, seemingly unconvinced. "Practice is at six, guys." He left again, leaving Jimmy and Chazz alone once more. Both men looked at each other simultaneously, then at the floor, and then back again.

"So uh," Chazz said finally, "I think that's a good start for tonight, don't you? We'd better hit the sack."

"Right. We don't want to be tired," Jimmy agreed. He crawled into the bottom bunk, removing the pillow only after his bottom half was immersed in the covers. Chazz shut off the bedroom light, and heaved himself up the ladder to the top bed. "Hey, Chazz, um, thanks," Jimmy said quietly.

"No problem, buddy." There was a short pause, and Jimmy was pretty sure Chazz had fallen asleep, though his tell-tale snoring had yet to begin. "So I've been thinking," the older man said suddenly. "You're going to want to look pretty spiffy in order to impress a girl as nice as Katie. Maybe … maybe you should borrow my brush."

"You're going to let me use your twelve-thousand dollar hair brush?" Jimmy said, stunned. He sat up quickly, forgetting that he was on the bottom of a bunk bed until his head nailed the underside of Chazz's mattress. "Crap," he muttered. "That'd uh, that'd mean a lot to me, Chazz."

"Yeah, I know." Chazz's trademark pompous grin was audible in his voice, but for some reason, it didn't grate on Jimmy's nerves as much as it usually did. "But hey, we both need to look good. We're a team, right?"

"Right," Jimmy smiled, snuggling his pillow. "Goodnight, Chazz."

"'Night." The sound of logs being sawed not even ten minutes later indicated to Jimmy that Chazz was fast asleep. As quietly as he could, he fished under his own mattress for the small book light he kept under the bed, as well as his own prized possession, his Hello Kitty diary. Snapping on the tiny lamp, he opened to a blank page, uncapped his favorite purple-inked pen, and began to write: "Dear Diary, you'll never guess what Chazz and I did today …"