Love Thy Neighbor Part 12
Heero parked the rental car in a side lot, paid the attendant then glanced in the side mirror for a final appearance inspection. Attired in a charcoal suit, black shirt and wine and white striped tie, the Barnes and McKinley architect merged with other pedestrians strolling along the avenue.
As he approached the single story off-Broadway theater that set midway down the block there was no long line of limousines delivering celebrities of stage and screen.
There were no stunning women adorned in shimmering gowns with plunging necklines and dripping with gemstones worth more money than Heero would earn in a lifetime or wealthy men in tuxedos.
There was no red carpet lined with cheering fans hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite superstar. Absent were newspaper and magazine photographers and interviewers from the television networks or Entertainment Tonight. Even Emily Frances the entertainment editor from WPIX had not deemed the opening night an event important enough to cover.
Still there was a sizable, well-dressed crowd milling around the theater's entrance. "Dance into the Fire" was spelled out in bright red letters across the backlit marquee.
A playbill in a glass-front frame was printed with several color pictures and the cast member's names. Of course the larger portraits were of the principle male and female dancers but there was also a smaller photograph of the entire cast.
Heero leaned closer, shielded his eyes from the glare reflecting off the glass and searched for Duo among the costumed performers. He finally located the object of his visual quest in the first row, third from the right.
First Heero was struck by how handsome Duo was in his costume. Secondly he noticed that the form-fitting material didn't leave much to the imagination, especially in the lower frontal region.
"I can't wait to see you dance." Heero whispered under his breath as his finger traced down Duo's athletically toned body. Yes, athletic was an ideal description of the dancer's trim but muscular physique.
But then Heero had already seen all of Duo's charms in their natural state. His slender body stretched out across the bed or arms and legs flexed in positions that caused Heero to wonder if Duo's joints were made of rubber bands.
Standing on the bustling sidewalk, gazing into Duo's smiling face, more memories surged to the surface. Creamy skin wet from the shower, slick with soap. Unbounded hair hanging like satin ribbons around Duo's shoulders and the way the silken tresses felt as Heero took care to plat a perfect braid.
Heero and Duo had yet to have intercourse but the petting and stroking and hand release had been sufficient. They had come to a mutual agreement, had wisely decided to wait until their bodies, minds and spirits were in tune.
The dancer and the architect would instinctively know when they were ready for their eventual physical bond but until then Heero was more than satisfied to fondle and cuddle and fall asleep next to person who made every day special.
*********
The majority of the chairs were occupied and there were more patrons filing down the twin aisles. Heero handed an usher his ticket stub and was escorted to the center section, row six, seat eighteen.
The murmur of conversation was almost overwhelmed by the orchestra tuning up in the pit below a polished wooden stage draped in burgundy velvet curtains. The musicians held each note until the tones blended perfect together, moved through the diatonic scale then repeated the process an octave higher or lower.
Heero sat quietly studying the four-page program that a pleasant silver-haired lady wearing a green tea-length satin dress had handed him in the lobby. Each dancer's name was listed along with a short biographical paragraph. Duo's write up didn't reveal any secrets not even the fact that he loved to have his feet massaged.
The scant personal information reminded Heero that Duo's family was sitting somewhere in the Victorian era playhouse. He shifted his weight and scanned the assembled audience searching for a group seated together that might bear a resemblance to Duo.
Heero's curious observation sparked questions that he suddenly realized he had a pressing desire to find the answers to. Did Duo look more like his mother or his father? Which side of the family was responsible for the dark auburn streaks in his chestnut hair or from what genetic code had Duo inherited his unusual blue-purple eyes?
Was his brother, Robert, an older version of Duo complete with a long braid and were his sisters, Lily and Rose, fraternal twins or identical clones that mirrored each other's movements and finished each other's sentences?
Unfortunately the diffused overhead light from three large gold and crystal chandeliers and the just-as-understated illumination from wall sconces with ivory glass shades didn't allow Heero to pick out many details of anyone seated more than five chairs on either side or two rows forward or back.
With a sigh of surrender Heero gave up his hunt. "I'll meet them later." he reminded himself as he remembered the backstage pass tuck safely in his wallet. Duo had also given passes to his family so everyone could get together after the show.
Earlier that evening when Heero drove Duo to the theater they had shared their first public kiss outside the rear stage door. "I guess I should say something like "break a leg". he whispered so only Duo could hear.
Duo leaned nearer and whispered back, "Just wish me luck."
The orchestra became quiet and the house lights blinked twice to signal that the show was about to begin.
Now all Heero could do was settle back in his seat and try not to be too nervous for the charismatic dancer who had become a close friend and, hopefully soon, a lover.
*********
In the maze of halls segregated by backdrop sets and noise-damping curtains, stage hands, light and sound technicians, riggers and a dozen other people skilled in putting on a musical rushed around in organized confusion that resembled an anthill stirred with a stick.
Inside the minor performer's communal dressing room dancers wriggled into skin-tight costumes and put finishing touches on bizarre hairpieces and overdone makeup that had to compete with the dazzling stage lights.
Duo stood sideway to check his profile in a mirror that covered the entire wall. His braid was coiled at the nape of his neck and secured with clips so it would fit under his coal black wig with red spikes. He smoothed down the black costume with iridescent flames clinging to his legs and arms and blazing over his shoulders then discreetly rearranged his manhood in the snug crotch.
Shyly he glanced over at his dancing partner, Susan, hoping she hadn't noticed the anatomy adjustment but she was too absorbed in applying bright red lipstick.
Duo leaned closer to scrutinize his own cosmetically altered facade. In contrast to Susan's scarlet lips, Duo's face was covered with pale powder and slate-gray eye shadow encircled his eyes making the orbs seem to recede deeper into their sockets. After all he was supposed to be a minion of the devil, a ghostly spirit sentenced to eternal torment so why not look like death warmed over.
Susan swiped over her scarlet mouth once more then leaned back to appreciate the garish makeup's full effect. As Duo sat down beside his counterpart, she tugged off the paper bib protecting her matching costume and offered a tense smile
"Are you nervous?" She wondered taking care not to bite her bottom lip and ruin the perfect paint job.
"A little bit," Duo confessed, "but that's what gives you an edge. The time to worry is when you get too comfortable."
The door opened momentarily allowing the ruckus from the hall to filter into the room then closed behind the show's choreographer. Jay Johnson walked into the center of his fiery-outfitted troop and flashed a confident smile. "Has everyone warmed up?"
Affirmative nods and softly spoken confirmations disturbed the anticipative silence.
Like a coach rallying his team to victory, J.J. put all his enthusiasm to his pre-performance speech. "All of you are talented professionals and have worked hard, made sacrifices and pushed your physical and mental endurance passed the limits of any sane person. You know how proud I am of you so I'm not going to ramble on with any sentimental bullshit."
As if on clue someone knocked on the door and announced. "Ten minutes to curtain."
Jay nodded towards the hall. "Now go out there and give the audience a taste of hell." He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Break a leg." he added with a sly grin.
*********
Murals painted on backdrops and side panels depicted infernal scenes of the abode of the damned. Freestanding props of craggy stones and blackened pillars supporting equally scorched arches added to the underworld environment.
Duo, Susan and another pair of dancers took their places in the wings stage right, the remainder of the troop waited stage left. Duo locked his knees, bent at the waist and flattened his palms on the floor for a final warm up then kicked to loosen any leg muscles that might have tightened up.
A fog machine pumped waves of "smoke" across the stage to hide several prone dancers. Fans swirled the white vapors accenting the sinister mood. Artificial flames fluttered violently and crimson lighting bathed the stage providing stark realism to make the audience believe that they were about to "Dance into the Fire".
The house lights dimmed. The conductor cued the main score...the interwoven musical thread that would knit each scene together. An anticipative hush fell over the theater.
As the curtain rose the music's tempo escalated harshly and two kettledrums reproduced the rumble of thunder. The fog-concealed dancers lifted their arms above the mist, swayed their hands and groaned as if in agony. Then one by one they slowly emerged from the blanched mist writhing like forsaken souls destined to damnation.
The lead male dancer was dressed in scarlet from head to toe. His face was painted in glittering makeup that reflected the red light to give his skin an eerie glow. By means of an elevator in the center stage floor, like the witch on the Wizard of OZ, he suddenly materialized through clouds of smoke and cascading sparks.
At Satan's volatile arrival the performers waiting in the wings swarmed on stage in a flurry of frenzied steps as if they were under a bewitching spell. The devil joined the madness and circled his minions taking fiendish delight in them succumbing to his power.
The female lead with flowing flaxen hair and attired in an angelic white bodysuit with a gauzy skirt hid behind one stony pillar and peered with trepidation at the devil's debauchery.
A pair of male dancers slinked through the smoke and seized the innocent girl who shrieked in shock. As their terrified captive struggled to pull free, the men forced her across the stage and dropped her at their master's feet.
The devil leered down. The maiden drew back from his lecherous gaze. He leaned closer, caressed her hair then locked his eyes with her eyes. Totally entranced she took his hand, rose to her feet and surrendered to his wicked desires.
The music took on a lustful tone prompting the dancers to engaged in an orgy of sensual movements. Stroking each other in the throes of fiery passion, bodies entwined, arms and legs tangled in provocative embraces designed to raise their sexual excitement to feverish levels.
Heero was not aware of the maiden's plight; in fact he couldn't have told you the number of dancers on stage. His attention was focused solely on Duo. He studied every step intently, scrutinized the way Duo's body became one with the music, the way he became lost in the rhythm.
He recalled that night on the sidewalk outside the Blue Note Jazz Club when Duo danced with the same beguiling abandonment and, although Heero didn't realize it at the time, that was the dance that captured his heart.
The theater was suddenly surreal. The audience vanished leaving Heero alone with the music and Duo, who was once again weaving his spell. His hands became moist, his breathing quickened. His manhood strained against his trousers causing him to wiggle in his seat.
Now Duo danced only for Heero. Resembling the serpent in the Garden of Eden, his hips swayed seductively. He became the tempter, a feral creature using every inch of his body to entice the enamored architect with promises of paradise.
"Duo," Heero whispered completely enthralled in both body and soul, "dance for me."
*********
Each sequential scene progressed to the breathtaking finale. In an intricately choreographed battle the hero defeated the devil and his unholy horde. Then with the aide of a hydraulic lift, the rescued maiden and her victorious champion ascended back to the land of the living leaving the hounds of hell howling in their retributive wretchedness.
As the curtain eased down, the music swelled to a climatic crescendo. Before the last note faded away the audience exploded into enthusiastic applause. Many people rose to their feet and shouts of "BRAVO!" echoed over the theater.
The loud, appreciative praise abruptly transported Heero back to reality. He sat motionless as the essences of Duo's mesmeric charms lingered like wisps of sweet incense then he sprang to his feet clapping and fighting the urge to weep tears borne of happiness.
In response to the prolonged ovation the entire cast made two curtain calls and each call sparked a renewed round of cheering. Finally the dancers joined hands and bowed in unison as the curtain descended on opening night.
*********
Still tingling with excitement Heero showed a security guard his backstage pass and was admitted to the theater's private area. He asked a sound technician with a headset dangling around his neck for directions to the dressing rooms. "Right turn at the end of the hall." the tall man shouted above the noisy post-performance commotion.
As soon as Heero turned the corner all his speculations concerning Duo's family were answered. There were no doubts that Duo looked like his mother or that he had inherited his hair's chestnut shade from both parents.
Robert was indeed an older version of his brother but his shoulder length hairstyle was a bit more conservative. As Heero walked closer he quickly realized that the twins were mirror images of each other and that they shared the same odd eye coloring as Duo.
"Mr. Maxwell?" Heero addressed the fifty-something man.
When Mr. Maxwell acknowledged his name, Heero offer an explanation and his hand. "Hello, I'm Duo's friend Heero Yuy."
Duo's father shook Heero's hand with a firm grip, "Mr. Yuy, it's nice to meet you." he stated in a Brooklyn accent with a hint of Irish brogue.
"Please call me Heero."
"If you'll called me Peter."
Duo's mother smiled and again Heero was reminded how much she and Duo favored, "I'm Helen. This is Robert, Lily and Rose she introduced Duo's siblings in turn.
Heero and the Maxwell family had settled into a comfortable conversation when the definitely elated dances spilled down the hall. Smiles lit up their faces, there was a bounce in their steps and despite being on the edge of exhaustion, they were still soaring on the natural high of adrenaline-induced euphoria.
Seeing the six most important people in his life standing by the dressing room door, Duo quickened his stride, "Sorry you had to wait but the show's director, Mr. Patterson, had to give a speech and we had to listen."
"You were wonderful tonight." Helen praised
"Thank you." Duo replied accepting a hug from his mother and father.
Robert preferred to shake hands. Lily and Rose giggled as Duo playfully tugged on their braided pigtails.
"Now you have to promise me something, " Helen continued.
Duo nodded, "yes".
"Your first free weekend you and Heero have to come for a visit and a home cooked meal."
"I promise."
Peter glanced at his watch, "It's late, we should be getting home. We're all proud of you son and don't be too long before you visit, we miss you."
*********
Although sweat had streaked Duo's makeup and the same damp condition caused his costume to bind on his body, Heero thought Duo was strikingly handsome. There was a sparkle in his eyes that no amount of fatigue could dull and his smile...his smile was warm enough to melt Heero's heart.
It was easy for Duo to read Heero's expression; he didn't need words to know what Heero was feeling. Without any hesitation he pulled his very special friend into a tight embrace and whispered close to his ear. "I can't wait until we're alone."
Heero held on not caring what anyone else thought of his and Duo's obvious display of affection. "I have a surprise for you." he whispered back.
"What?" The single breathy word tickled along Heero's jaw.
"Be patience."
"Okay." Reluctantly Duo's arms slid from Heero's shoulders. "Let me shower and change." he sighed as the adrenaline rush was rapidly wearing off. "I won't be long."
"Take your time, I'll wait over there." Heero nodded to several chairs lining the wall.
*********
It was almost ten o'clock when the dancer and the architect stepped into the cool night air. Duo was freshly showered and shampooed and smelled like Old Spice Aftershave.
Dressed in stonewashed jeans and a navy blue pullover shirt, Duo was casual in contrast to Heero's more formal attire. Heero had slipped off the annoying tie and folded it neatly before placing it in the inner pocket of his suit jacket that was draped over his arm.
"I'm starving." Duo announced. He hadn't eaten much before the show because a full stomach would sometimes cramp up when he got overheated.
Heero unlocked the rental car, slipped behind the steering wheel and pushed the button to unlock the passenger side door. "Can you wait twenty minutes?" he asked as Duo settled in his seat and buckled his shoulder harness.
"Yeah. Is dinner my surprise?"
Heero switched on the engine, turned on the headlights, put the car in gear then stopped at the parking lot gate to check the traffic flow before pulling out. "Part of it."
Duo reached over and interlaced his fingers with Heero's. "A multipart surprise. Can't you give me a hint?"
"Twenty minutes." Heero repeated as he ade a left hand turn and headed uptown.
TBC...
~Author's Note: WPIX is a television station in New York City.~
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