“Good.” Kyle’s mouth was full, so Colt had to wait for him to finish. “Next weekend I’ll cook. I think. Unless I have crazy rehearsals, because we’re opening the following weekend. This is so good.” Kyle took another big bite. The man wasn’t shy about eating, for sure. He had a good appetite.
“Why’re they crazy?” He didn’t have to worry about having a staged show or nothing. He showed up, played—hell, being onstage was easier than the studio because you just went with the energy.
Kyle smiled at him. “Well, we don’t improvise, music man. It has to be exactly the same every night. We have to get all the steps right, the lighting, the entrances, the sets if there are any, costume changes. It’s a lot to put together. And it runs for a long while. Months at least. So there’s a lot to perfect.”
“Exactly the same? Honest?” He couldn’t fathom that. Not at all.
“Honest. Exactly the same. All the same steps, same music, same timing, same stories. Every night. Six times a week. You’ll see. You can come to opening night, and then I’ll get you tickets a couple of weeks later.”
Kyle sipped his wine, the glass reflecting the candlelight.
“That’s dedication.” And he meant that. His music was very much about improv, but he could lay down tracks when he needed to.
Kyle shrugged. “It’s just what I do. But you know, that improvisation we did this… was it just this morning? Wow. That was amazing, wasn’t it? I’ve never really done that before, not like that anyway. The way that just came from deep down, and that energy? I hope we can do that again soon.”
“It was wow, and you say when.” He glanced over and winked. “After we eat.”
“Nothing’s interrupting this meal. And I’m so going to have seconds.” Kyle laughed, reaching out to take his hand. “I want to get that down, though, if we can. Record it like Timmy did for me the last time. That’s the next piece I’m working on, you know. Not for this opening, but my next solo exhibition. The only thing better than recording it would be….” Kyle looked at him, eyes flashing. “Oh, I’m getting a crazy idea.”
He was all about the crazy. Hell, he was sort of the definition of crazy. “I’m in.”
“The only thing better than asking you to record your original music for me would be to improv it every night. With you. Onstage.”
“Sure, honey, if you want. You tell me when and where, and I’ll let Nathan know.”
“Yeah? Really? I mean, some of the show would be staged, but I’m thinking at least one piece could be improv. We pay and do real contracts and everything. I’d just need to talk to your manager.” Kyle took another bite and didn’t seem to care about a full mouth this time, just kept on talking. “How cool. Everything is so rehearsed in dance, but this would be, like… spur-of-the-moment. It could reflect our mood or the vibe we’re getting from the audience, or just whatever your fingers and my feet… do.”
“That’s my thing, so I got no worries. I could watch you for years.”
Kyle gave him a soft smile. “You are so sweet, baby. I could get lost in your guitar for ages. It’s just so real.”
He sure hoped so; he didn’t know how else to be. That probably wasn’t true. There were some dark days where he didn’t want to be him or anybody like him, but he wasn’t smart enough to turn into a stranger.
“The idea makes me a little nervous, you know? Being unstructured and unscripted. But I felt so open and creative this morning. I think we can pull it off.” Kyle kissed his hand and then sipped more wine.
“We’ll have to try it again and see what happens.” And if that was selfish? So be it. He wanted to play for Kyle.
“We will.” Kyle pushed back from the table. “Oh, man. I am stuffed. That was delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for letting me.” It had been the best day in a month of Sundays, between the going and the seeing and the playing and the food.
“I’m mulling over how to properly show my gratitude.” Kyle looked at him with hooded eyes and a sly, sexy smile.
“Ooh. Now there are some possibilities there, cher….” That look made him some lovely possibilities.
“Infinite possibilities for creative people.” Kyle slid out from behind the table and into his lap smoothly. Almost slithering. “And we are very creative, aren’t we?”
“Oh, we is that, cher. We got that making thing down.” His hands found Kyle’s ass like they had minds of their own.
“M-hm. We do.” Kyle kissed him with soft, warm lips that felt like heaven and tasted like wine. He could get drunk on that, no question, and he let himself melt into the sweet, velvet richness that was Kyle.
Kyle lingered over the kiss, his lover’s hunger real but simmering under the surface, still, as long fingers slid up under his shirt and dragged across his nipples.
His belly tightened up in anticipation, and his sac did the same. The ball of need in his belly wasn’t huge, but it was beginning.
“Ooh, I felt that.” Kyle’s hand brushed over his abs and tucked just under his waistband. “Why don’t we clean this up and digest a bit, and then maybe I’ll dance for you. Something naughty.”
“You have the best ideas, cher. Near wicked.” Eventually he would let Kyle’s ass go.