Chapter Four: Take the Lead

After some awkward fumbling to find a grip, the tall, broad man and the nearly a head shorter teenage boy stood on the floor, a few inches between their bodies, each as embarrassed as the other. Artemis, on his part, was very much conscious of the heat radiating from Butlers well-built form, of the musky scent of his after-shave and the softness of the large hand holding his. He didn't mind it at all, and that was what troubled him. He shouldn't be liking this as much as he was, and he knew it. Butler, on the other hand, was trying his utmost to ignore just how pleasant those warm fingers on his shoulder felt, and had a tough time not thinking about where he would rather move the hand he had firmly placed on Artemis' waist. The closeness of the young man- boy, Butler sternly reminded himself- was nearly too much, and it took all the inner focal points Butler had just to clear his brain. And remain coherent…

"Then… let's see… we should start with a step to the left. Your left," he added awkwardly and tried not to notice how close Artemis leg had just come.
"And then lift your other foot and put them together, and a step to the right, and…"he went on until Artemis seemed to get the concept.
Then, to avoid further embarrassment and to enable himself to think straight, Butler carefully but very much reluctantly disentangled himself.
"OK," he said, taking a step back, hoping he didn't look as over-heated as he felt, "I think you get it, and we can add some music." He turned to the stereo, put it on and said a silent prayer that he would be able to keep some decorum for as long as this had to go on. He knew, however, that he might not.

And as the sweet notes of the flute, the harp and the violin surrounded them, and as Artemis put a soft, not at all reluctant hand on his shoulder, a bit too close to the neck than was necessary, and put his slender body in Butler's grasp, the grown man felt his self-control become severely destabilized. He sighed, and tried again.
"One, two, three, one, two, three…" Butler silently counted the beat as the moved together in something akin to the rhythm of the music. His hand had slid up to the small of Artemis' back; he hadn't been able to deprive himself of that small treat, but he took pride in at least being able to maintain the distance. Only a few inches, but it helped keep his mind straight…

Artemis held on to his hand and shoulder, his head nearly resting against the broad chest of his guard. He was concentrating intently on counting the beat, moving his right foot and then the left, finally feeling that he had any idea whatsoever of what to do. The young criminal didn't like being a step behind, whatever the subject, but now, when the beat seemed to settle in his body and the music had its own way with him, as he was lead by someone who could show him without teaching him, he felt himself relaxing a bit. This wasn't so horrible, after all. Not all that complicated. And not entirely disagreeable either, this…closeness.

Never before had he really noticed how good and reassuring it could feel to have a sure hand holding yours, firmly but gently leading the way, taking the lead. And the hand on his back, warm, safe, moving slightly in a small, soothing caress…it felt better than he could ever have imagined. Knowing he shouldn't, half afraid to be pushed away, Artemis moved just a tad closer to the warm body, almost closing the distance that Butler had so vainly been keeping. Noticing that Butler didn't push him away, didn't seem bothered, he gave an inward sigh of relief. Then, without really thinking, without knowing how he ever found the courage and the absence of sense to put this thought, this whim into action, he placed his head to lie against Butler's warm chest.

Butler tensed slightly at the touch, and, realizing the situation, was uncertain how to respond, lest he ruin the moment and possibly more. He ventured, however, to tighten his grip ever so little around Artemis' waist, at which he felt, rather than heard, Artemis gasp softly. But not, Butler noticed with a strange feeling of exhilaration, out of surprise or repulsion, but from something closer to – the thought itself made him hesitate – pleasure. Butler's head reeled; could this be? Could it really be, that the one person he cherished most, wanted most, was in his arms, striving to be close, being held and…liking it? Could it be that Artemis…? He barely dared complete the line of thought, but yet the hand on his shoulder slid closer to his open collar, almost touching the bare skin, and he realized he must act. Not trusting his voice not to betray him, the bodyguard let go of his charge's hand, and, softly touching Artemis' cheek, caused him to look up.

The look in the young man's eyes – and in this moment, Butler realized he could not even to himself claim his protégé to be a boy – sent shivers down the soldier's spine. Those blue eyes were half closed in a dreamy, languid fashion, telling of the complete safety their owner felt in the embrace where he was held, but beneath, there was a depth, a darkness that turned the blue to black, from need and desire; they burned with an unveiled intensity that dazzled the man whose gaze they steadily met. He heard his own voice say
"Artemis…" but the hoarsely whispered word was far away. He knew he was falling now, drowning in the nocturnal skies that were Artemis' eyes, but he couldn't care. As Artemis let his hand slide up along the bare skin of his arm where the sleeves of Butler's shirt was rolled back, up along the biceps and the broad shoulder, eventually leaving him standing with both arms around Butler's neck, the man within the warrior gave in.

Not reflecting, not quite aware what he was doing anymore, Butler roughly tightened his arm around the narrow waist, crushing the warm, lithe body against his own. Artemis drew a sharp breath, but did not let go his grip. Instead, he fixed the older man's eyes with his mesmerizing gaze, and, without a word, slid closer, cocking his head back slightly so that, in spite of Butler's considerable height, his face was merely inches away. When he saw the mixture of desire and nervous hope in the blue crystals, and when he felt a leg firmly, shamelessly slid between his own, the air caught in the bodyguard's throat, and he surrendered completely. A hand was pushed along a back, a short breath was taken, and as lips met lips, mouths opening hungrily, the world was reduced to the hot, wet, wonders of a first kiss. And the sweet notes of Bach floated away into the darkness of a December night.

Fin.