“He’s not just a bird, you know. He’s a boy named Brom,” Andre explained to distract himself. He held the stuffed toy up with a wistful smile, suddenly missing story time with Miguel, who sometimes insisted that Andre read the story two or even three times before bed. “He was boisterous and happy, always singing as he herded his sheep in his village. Unfortunately, he annoyed a witch and interrupted her spell with his noise, so sheturned him into a parrot. He flew off to the king’s castle, hoping the court magician could turn him back, but as he passed by the highest tower, he met the princess of the land, named Aveline. She was a lonely girl who didn’t have any friends because her father was afraid someone would try to steal her away and marry her in order to claim the kingdom. She was enchanted with Brom’s colors and his amusing chatter, so they became best friends. Then one day an evil prince came and really did try to steal her, but Brom squawked until the guards came and bit the evil prince on the nose. Thus, he saved the princess and was turned back into himself by the court magician. Brom was older now, having spent several years there, and Aveline fell in love with him, and he with her. The King knew that Brom would always keep Aveline safe, so he allowed the marriage. And they lived happily ever after.”
Dmitri looked surprised, and Andre suddenly flushed, feeling stupid for having told the story. He put the parrot down among the others, missing Miguel so much it was like an ache in his chest. “Come on, let’s go.”
Andre stepped out into the darkness outside the shop, then started over a bridge that led back toward the park entrance. But he stopped when Dmitri put a hand on his arm and turned to look at him, hoping he hadn’t made a fool of himself.
“Hey, just so you know, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” Dmitri said softly, and Andre could see him smile. When Andre hesitated, uncertain of what to say, Dmitri tilted his head to one side. “The story obviously means a lot for you to remember it so well. I think that’s beautiful.”
Dmitri understood; of course, he did. He always seemed to understand, even the words that Andre couldn’t speak.
The urge to just tell Dmitri about Miguel was strong. He could trust Dmitri. He knew he could — and yet he hesitated, finding the habit of silence difficult to overcome after so manyyears. He wanted to, he really did; there was so much he wanted to share with Dmitri and to have Dmitri share with him. The longing inside him to connect with Dmitri was almost a physical pain.
The muted lights from nearby stores and the waxing moon overhead cast Dmitri’s hair in tones of silver instead of gold, the light breeze of a tropical evening stirring the silken strands and carrying the faint trace of Dmitri’s cologne to him. Dmitri gazed up at him, his high cheekbones and sharply angled features looking almost unearthly. It was as though he were a fae creature who had stepped out of the shadows, casting a spell over Andre’s senses that beckoned him closer. Warmth washed over Andre as he stood mesmerized, and need, as sharp and hard as a staccato beat, pulsed through him, echoing the beating of his own heart.
For long moments, the world seemed to condense down to just the two of them. The sounds of voices and the music of the attractions faded away until they seemed to stand together in a bubble separate from the world around them. It seemed that Dmitri must have felt the pull between them as well, and he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing close enough for Andre to see, even in the dim light, the answering heat in Dmitri’s eyes. Standing there in the tropical night, it was obvious that their masks had come off, and Andre could no longer deny that Dmitri wanted him, just as much as he wanted Dmitri.
The pull between them was finally just too much for Andre to resist. It was almost like a dream, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wasn’t even certain that hewantedto stop. Reaching out, he put his hands on Dmitri’s shoulders as he leaned down, before, at long last, capturing Dmitri’s lips with his own.
Dmitri’s breath hitched at the light contact, and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Andre’s waist, his body warm and firm against him. And then Dmitri’s lips parted on a soft moan, inviting Andre to deepen the kiss, a temptation Andrewas completely unable to resist. He’d wanted this for so long, dreamed of it, and now that Dmitri was here in his arms, he couldn’t have stopped himself from responding if he’d tried. And he didn’t.
The kiss continued for long, breathless moments, a sensual exploration of lips and tongues as Andre learned how wonderful Dmitri tasted, how perfectly he fit against Andre’s body, as if he’d been made just for him. It was hot and arousing, a heady feeling of desire that was like a slow burn building toward a conflagration, a slow burn that was like a fuse ready to explode. He wanted Dmitri, wanted him so much it was an ache within him.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood, locked together in that heady exploration, but the sudden sound of voices close by and a trill of laughter broke the tableau, ending the kiss. Dazed, Andre stared down at Dmitri, seeing his own feelings of stunned pleasure reflected in Dmitri’s slumbrous gaze.
“So when did this start? Did we miss something?”
Startled, Andre released Dmitri’s shoulders and stepped back, finding Kit, Kris, and Jo watching them with huge smiles on their faces, while Luka simply looked nonplussed. Kris, who had been the one who had spoken, chuckled at their expressions.
“About damned time if you ask me.” Kit stood with one arm around Luka’s shoulders, beaming at them proudly, while Luka seemed more surprised than Andre himself. “I’ve been rooting for you two for almost a year.”
Jo had her hands clasped together, and Andre could practically see the hearts in her eyes. “How utterly perfect is this? I’m so happy for you!”
Andre wanted to bolt, but Dmitri held him in place, as though sensing his desire to run. Andre couldn’t speak and wouldn’t even have known what to say if he could have found the words.
But Dmitri came to his rescue. Andre felt him take a deep breath and let it out before speaking. “You idiots have terrible timing.” Andre looked down at him in surprise at the unusual acid in his tone, but Dmitri wasn’t finished. “That was the first time we’ve ever kissed, dumbasses. And you had to come along and spoil it!”
The others had the grace to look chagrined at the scolding, and their smiles faded a bit.
“Oops, sorry,” Kris murmured after an awkward moment, before giving them both an apologetic glance. “We didn’t know.”
There were more apologies, and a strange tension hovered between all of them. Finally, Dmitri released his hold on Andre, stepping back from him with an expression of regret. Andre stood, feeling off-kilter and confused, completely unsure about what to do. The kiss had seemed so right in the moment, but now he was wondering if he’d made a huge mistake, stepping so far out of his own comfort zone that he may have screwed everything up with the band, just as he’d so often feared.
“Just… let us have a moment, would you?” Dmitri asked. “Pretend you never saw anything. If we want to let you know what’s going on, we will, okay? Please?”
As Andre hesitated, still not knowing what, if anything, to say or do, Kris rounded up the others, and they headed in the direction of the exit, leaving Andre and Dmitri by themselves once more.
“I’m sorry about the interruption,” Dmitri said quietly, his expression fading into a pensive look. “I am not, however, in the least bit sorry about the kiss, and I hope you aren’t, either. I’ve wanted to kiss you for four years, but I could tell you weren’t ready.”
“I… I don’t know.” Andre ran a hand through his hair, glad that there was no one around now because suddenly his legs felt shaky. “It’s stupid, but I still don’t know if I’m ready.”
Dmitri nodded. “It’s okay, I get it. Is it… I mean, I’ve never been completely sure if you were straight, bi, in the closet, or what, so I didn’t want to push.” He bit his lip, looking uncertain. Dmitrineverlooked uncertain; he was one of the most open and self-confident people Andre had ever known. Seeing him unsettled now and knowinghewas the cause, tore at Andre’s heart.
“No, I’m not straight,” Andre admitted finally. He looked around to make sure they were still alone. “Look, it’s complicated. Just between us, I’m bi, leaning way more to the gay side, if I’m truthful. And while I’m not exactly in the closet, there are reasons I can’t be open about things, at least not yet. I have responsibilities.”
“Oh.” Dmitri nodded, yet there was no comprehension behind the gesture, and the look of self-doubt was still there. But how could he expect Dmitri to understand, since Andre had never taken Dmitri into his confidence and hadn’t ever explained anything?
Which, in the face of Andre now hurting the man he loved, felt like a stupid decision on his part.
Andre knew he had started this by giving in to his long-denied desire and kissing Dmitri. Whether or not he should have, hehaddone it, and now he had another decision to make. Did he tell Dmitri the truth, taking a chance that Dmitri might wash his hands of the mess and walk away, or should he continue to keep him in the friend zone? It was a risk, but given the amazing, world-shaking kiss they’d shared, and the things it had made Andre want, he didn’t think “just friends” was possible for them anymore.
