“Ain’t you something, cher? It’d kill a man, to see you dance to the blues.”
“That piece is painful but beautiful, right?” He found he could breathe easier with his own lover, at least of the moment, close by. He walked over, knelt in front of Colt, and kissed him. “You should see it with the other two dancers. One dancing the lover that left me and one his new love interest.”
“Mmm. One day. Good morning, cher. How you be?”
“I’m—” How was he? The sun was out; he was dancing, Colt was sitting here with his guitar…. “I’m perfect. Wonderful. You? Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log.” Colt began to play, a more sultry version of the song he’d just danced to, the whole vibe less heart-wrenching and more… wicked.
“Mmm. I like that.” He stood up and stretched a little, just keeping his muscles warm. The twist on the very familiar piece made him grin, though. It had a groove to it that made him want to move. “I like that a lot. Come in. Come into the studio.”
“Yeah?” Colt rolled up to his feet, adorable with his bare chest, bare feet, jeans loose on his hips.
He took Colt by the hand and led him right into the center of the large room. The sun had shifted so it wasn’t as bright, but the sky was a brilliant blue. “Can I get you a chair, or are you more comfortable on the floor?” He had a couple of folding chairs against the far wall.
“However you want me, you got me. You want I should play for you?”
“I would; will you? You don’t mind the floor?” He waited while Colt got settled. “Just play anything you want for now. I’m….” He waved his hand near his head. “I’m just—I’ve got something.”
“Surely.” Colt strummed idly for a few seconds, then found it—Kyle wasn’t sure whatitwas, but suddenly there was a hunger in the air, the melody like a stalking tiger that was teasing its prey, taunting it, pushing forward, then easing back.
Kyle nodded and stepped back from Colt slowly, eyes on the floor but focused inward as he worked through the sound of the music, the tempo, the patterns. He moved across the floor in small movements at first, marked turns, small jumps, and then suddenly he had it. He dove toward the floor and rolled, landing in a long, stretched-out pose that he held for a second not a foot away from Colt’s guitar. Then he reached back and lifted himself to his feet with one arm and took off across the room.
The tempo changed, the slaps on the acoustic sounding tribal, the deep thumps adding a necessary bass, one that reverberated through the room. He felt the bass in his chest, let it drive his movement.
He didn’t think at all after that; he just went with it, moving freely, though he knew some part of his mind was remembering the steps when they were really right. Improv was about staying in the moment, not thinking ahead more than a measure or two.
Colt seemed to get it, seemed to get him, giving him a delicious mixture of tempo and pause, the dark eyes on him, learning him. He was too focused on his form to look back, but he knew. He could feel Colt’s eyes track him down the length of the room.
Once he realized how in tune they were, he decided to have some fun, to see how Colt’s playing responded to him and his movement instead of the other way around. He pulled out some of his own choreography, a piece he’d been working on largely in silence for lack of the right accompaniment. He made a point of heading off in another direction, stepping off the beat on purpose and hoping Colt would catch on.
The music grew softer for a moment, curious; then it attached itself to his heels like a shadow, finding him unerringly.
The piece started out cautious emotionally, reticent, but took a few small risks that became more frequent as they were rewarded. It was a piece about stepping beyond one’s comfort zone, about the process of learning and the things that open up the world of what’s possible. Toward the finale of the piece, it exploded with joy, an energy that filled the room to the rafters and echoed off the walls.
By the end the guitar was ringing, the strings bent to Colt’s will, the studio reverberating with pure happiness.
Kyle let the last notes dissipate before he moved, and then he spun around and slid across the floor to Colt, still trying to catch his breath. “Woo!”
Colt was sheened with sweat, breathing hard, and he got a grin, a wild kiss. “So fine.”
He laughed breathlessly and stretched out on the floor on his back, in front of Colt. “Amazing. Just… fantastic. Stunning. Will you remember any of that? I’d love to get it recorded sometime. You know, I hadn’t finished choreographing that piece? The whole last third was just… on the fly. It just kind of happened.” He was talking fast, even for a New Yorker. It would be a miracle if Colt actually understood any of that. “God, that was awesome.”
“You are. I could do that forever.” Colt leaned forward, touched his arm. “Magic, eh?”
“Not me, baby. Us.” He covered Colt’s hand with his and rolled to face him. “It was magic. That’s the only word for it.” He sat up then and kissed Colt quickly over the top of the guitar. “You’re not going to do that forever, though, because it’s our rest day. I’m done dancing; you’re done playing. Quick showers, some coffee, and then we have a city to see. Right?”
“Right.” Colt grinned at him. “I want to see things, hear the sounds, hmm?”
“Feel the rhythms. Soak up the energy.” He stood up, still high on their positive vibe. “Have some fun.”
He waited for Colt to stand, and then they made their way back to the bedroom for showers. After that, he made them a pot of strong, dark coffee and some avocado toast.
“What do you want to do first? We could go to Central Park and explore. We could go to the top of the Empire State Building. We could head up to the Botanical Gardens or wander around the West Village….” He was up for anything. He almost never got to be a tourist in his own city.
“Yes. Anything.” Colt moved in his kitchen easily, tasting food as he cooked, adding a sprinkle of lime here and cayenne there, surprising him with a little strange spinach salad for the top of the toast. Kyle was glad to see Colt eating instead of insisting on only coffee until dinner. The man needed his strength.
“Mmm. This is delicious. And pretty. We’re going to have some fun cooking dinner in here tonight.” He took his plate and his coffee to the small round kitchen table and pointed to the other chair for Colt. “We’ll start up high, then, get a view of the city, and decide what’s next from there.” He liked the view from the Empire State. It was a zoo on Saturdays, but he’d been given a couple of passes as an opening night gift that should get them up top fairly quickly.