Chapter Three

In the darkness, the heat had become stifling. His eyes locked onto that of the redhead, savoring the emotions that flitted restlessly in that wine-colored gaze as he twirled and traced the contours of his body to the music.

Please don't turn me on

It's getting late I know I should be gone

Don't push me 'cos I'm not that strong

He had reached the farthest he went in the show, but the music was still playing, the enticing fingers of rhythm and sound wrapping about his body and filling his senses, almost palpable to the touch. He moved his hips in lazy circles and trailed it with a graceful hand gesture.

Please don't touch me there…

Stop playing with my mind it's not fair

The one with the impossibly red hair garnered his attention. Perhaps it was the mood he was in, or perhaps it was the lighting combined with the music, but he found himself taking detracted interest in his customer that night.

Won't you keep your distance?

You're getting too close to me

I've been feeling my resistance

Melting away

As he moved, unconsciously, lost in the throes of the familiar rhythm he always performed to, he observed the one in particular absentmindedly.

He had skin that appeared like molten bronze in the dim light, and his long formal shirt had long since abandoned its top buttons, exposing a chest that was firm and hard. The loose black dress pants skimmed the floor, covering his feet to the carpet, clothing long legs that stretched over the couch. Features the equivalent of a painting, even and symmetrical, a well-formed face, with a sharp jaw-line, large slanted eyes, a straight nose and a full, almost-girlish mouth. Almost unconsciously, he reached up a hand to touch his own lips, just a slight brush before he turned again, a side profile in the dimness.

I think I stayed too long
I forget where I belong

The music would be ending soon, he knew, but something was different about tonight. He didn't want it to end.

Put your hands where I can see
Baby, you know what I mean
'Cos you're looking good to me
And you know I feel the heat

A thin film of perspiration marked his body as he prepared himself for the final pose, and hit it right on time, the last thump of the drum echoing round and round the room as he stilled, breathing evenly, holding it for a few moments before inclining his head slightly and moving away, out of sight, into the shadows of the corridor, where he had tossed his clothes.

Moments later, those in the room heard the soft 'click' of the door as it opened. The tape had been paid for. It was all in the package.

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"That was—interesting," Yohei commented as Takamiya screeched and shuddered in the corner.

"That was—SCARY," Noma corrected the dark-haired boy, who scratched his head sheepishly.

"I don't know, I thought it was rather nice," Yohei grinned and looked over at Ookusu, who was just about having a nosebleed. "Hmph. What do you think, Hanamichi? Was it worth the cash? It wasn't cheap you know!"

Takamiya groaned from the couch. Hanamichi looked up, his expression unreadable for a few moments. "It wasn't bad," he said at last, smiling at Yohei. "I enjoyed it."

@@@

His lover was waiting downstairs in the black sedan. Pulling his trench coat closer over his shoulders, he slipped past the swinging doors of the main entrance and reached the car, one smooth hand reaching out to clasp the handle and pull the car door open. Slipping inside, he let his things fall to the ground as he stared straight ahead.

"You look beautiful."

Closing his eyes, he let himself be pulled over, and smiled slightly as he felt the barest touch of a light kiss on his brow. As always, the familiar scent of the other's cologne and shower gel melded together to form a sensuous, comforting embrace. He leaned further into the security of the arms that held him, and planted a soft peck on the neck of the taller boy. "You're not half bad yourself."

He felt Sendoh's lips curl into a smile against his forehead. Kaede…