Who’s Your Daddy?

“We were told our Mister Drin wished to support the symphony in general, not any of the first chairs alone,” Dance says, lifting his eyes from his empty sushi plate. Drin has gotten fairly familiar with this face and its subtle moods, but there is something else about Dance, that …

Intermission

Drin can’t remember the last time he felt this happy. His young musician has eaten chocolates– not in the avid way he’d eaten sushi, but with pleasure– and sipped at the world’s finest espresso, served in a miniature shell of a cup. He made funny startled faces, brows lifted, blinking …

Running Water

The morning begins hideously early. He didn’t sleep, of course. It’s not a hardship, laying for a scant few hours in Dance’s bed, with the man breathing those long, slow, sleep rhythms into his chest, their legs tangled warmly together. God, the sweetness of finally holding his musician. Drin just …

Naming Himself

The following week is reserved for a fancy lunch at Shura’s diner, which requires a ride in the seductive car. After a brief walk, in which Dance still has the same problem in his pants as last week, which is still funny and oddly flattering, finally they’re passing into the …