Page 6 of Flirty Dancing

6

Moonlight

“Dancers!” Stewart paced along the front of the stage, Judy trotting at his heels. “For those disinclined to observe such things, I would like you to note that it is Saturday.” He stopped and stared at them, gripping his cane, eyes wild. “Saturday! Do you know what this means?”

The dancers shifted, eyeing one another.

Betty raised her hand. “It means that… tomorrow is Sunday?”

“Yes!” Stewart bellowed. “Yes, Betty, very well done. Tomorrow is Sunday. And what happens on Sunday?”

“The guests arrive?” Betty continued, on a roll.

“The guests. Arrive. Tomorrow .” Stewart took a deep breath then threw his head back. “Tomorrow! Tomorrow, people! Retro is merely passable. Latin is middling. Urban is abysmal. Around the World and Broadway? In utter shambles! I need your blood, your sweat, your very tears today, my darlings. Today… we dance!” He flung his arms out and froze as if waiting for applause.

“Uh, Stewart?” Mateo pointed behind him. “The costume designers and photographers are here, though.”

Stewart turned to verify that they had indeed interrupted his big finish, then sniffed at them. “Oh, yes. Very well. We dance… later today.”

The seamstresses descended with their racks of costumes, paying special attention to Archer, Beau, Ben, and Betty, who hadn’t had a chance to try anything on yet. The photographer and her assistant took over a corner of the stage and began setting up their equipment. Stewart shuffled and sighed his way around the hubbub while Mateo got them organized.

“Let’s get everyone into their contemporary costumes first for the headshots,” he decided, “then we’ll do a few pairs for each show after.”

The others seemed unimpressed with all the bustle around them, but Archer was secretly thrilled. This made it feel less like summer camp and more like an actual show. He stood patiently for the seamstress as she measured and pinned and sorted through his clothes. Each dancer would have their own rack backstage, a neat row of all their costumes for the six shows. His favorite had to be the Latin —slinky black pants and a loose-fitting dark purple and scarlet top cut down to his waistband. Mateo’s costume was black and sparkly, with hints of matching purple and scarlet shimmers. For a second, he pictured the two of them together, tight in their hold.

“You’re up, Archer,” Mateo called when the seamstress had finished checking Archer’s billowy contemporary shirt.

“Okay.” He stepped over to the screen, a little nervous. He hadn’t had dance photos taken in a long time.

“Stand on the X , please,” the photographer said. “Chin down a bit… That’s it. Now take a breath, and smile.”

Archer sucked in a lungful of air and let it out in a whoosh . It was hard to relax with Mateo and half the troupe milling around watching. He tried to think about the moment when he got this job and let that smile come out.

“Gorgeous,” the photographer said to him. “Just beautiful. Give me another smile. Great. Now how about a serious face… Ooh, sexy. Perfect. Do you want some with your shirt off?”

“Um, sure?” The rest of the men had done it, so he figured he should. He whisked off his floaty shirt and tossed it onto a chair, then turned back to the camera. Archer swore he caught Mateo’s gaze lingering before he whipped it away.

After the individual photos were taken, Mateo began sorting them into small groups. “We need a few shots for each show. How about Dominik and Daniella in their Grease costumes for Broadway , Nijah and Iris into belly dancing, and Caleb into capoeira for Around the World …” He continued giving instructions until only he and Archer remained. “And we can do Latin ,” he finished.

Archer gulped. Guess he wouldn’t have to imagine how they’d look clinched together—he was about to find out. Archer slid into his Latin costume, then watched as the others took their turns posing.

“I want these really dynamic,” the photographer said when Mateo and Archer were up. “Can you give me a few steps?”

Mateo took hold of Archer. “Let’s do the eight-count from the first lunge?”

“Sounds good,” Archer gasped, breathing him in and trying to keep his pulse from racing.

“Gorgeous,” the photographer mumbled, pulling back to study her screen for a second. “Do that again. God, you two can smolder, can’t you?”

Their eyes met.

Yup.

By the time the costume racks were sorted away and the photographer was packing up, Stewart was sipping tea in the front row with Judy in his lap, having lost his momentum for inspiring speeches.

“Alright,” Mateo said. “Time for Broadway .” He and the others helped Archer, Ben, Beau, and Betty break down the choreo, and, God, Archer loved it. They were doing a collection of songs from so many of his favorites— Grease, Newsies, Hairspray, and Beauty and the Beast .

Watching Mateo dance to the Grease song was so exhilarating he was nearly dizzy. Archer would be one of the greasers during “Summer Nights” and watching Mateo as Danny… He was transported back to the theater when he was fourteen, falling in love with him. Not that he was in love with him now , of course. Just, professionally… admiring him.

The day ran long and they were cooling down on the stage, in danger of missing dinner entirely, when Stewart shuffled over to speak to them.

“As you know, normally Sunday is your day of rest, but tomorrow we will use it for a dress rehearsal for Retro , and a run-through of Latin and Urban . Be here by eight o’clock sharp. We must be out by two o’clock to allow setup for the drag show.”

Archer let out a low groan. He had been really looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.

“So excited to see Eva Stiff again!” Dominik piped up.

“Who’s Eva Stiff?” Archer murmured to Caleb while Stewart launched into a story about the early days of drag in New York.

“She’s a drag queen from Manhattan. There’s a group of them who usually rotate through and come out to do the Sunday shows. Eva is getting pretty big but she started out here so she always comes back for the opening and closing shows.”

“Can we watch if we want?”

“We never miss it.”

So? Archer texted Lynn, flopping onto his bed with wet hair and rubbery muscles after dinner and a shower. Are you engaged??? Are you having celebration sex this very minute??

It took a minute but her reply popped up: the grimace emoji.

Oh no, what happened?

The library is undergoing renovations! The section where we met was closed and I got flustered. Plus Sasha had a bad day at work and she was kind of in vent mode and it didn’t feel very proposal-y.

Aw, that’s okay! You can try for another time when the mood is right.

Yeah, I will. Let me know if you have another idea! In other news… A picture of their living room came through showing three buckets now instead of one. Leak Perry brought his friends, Jason Trickley and Tori Spilling.

Archer groaned and cackled at the same time. At least you got to come up with more names.

Lol. A small consolation.

You going full lawyer on Fletcher’s ass?

I’m trying. He’s rather impervious. Unlike our ceiling.

If anyone can tear him a new one, it’s you.

On it. Gotta go, we’re grabbing dinner. Kisses!

Backatcha.

Archer put his phone down and folded his arms under his head. He really missed Lynn. Even though they’d only been living together for five months, it seemed like they’d been friends for years, and it felt shitty not to be there for her when she was ready to make such a big leap.

“Archer!” Caleb burst in, eyes lit up, teeth gleaming white in a broad smile. “Last night! Let’s go!”

Archer moaned. “I’m so tired, Caleb.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Caleb took his arm and tried to heave him off his bed. “It’s the last night before the guests arrive. We all go skinny-dipping and drink our faces off.”

Archer let Caleb pull him to a seated position but retrieved his hand from Caleb’s grasp. “I’m so confused as to how that’s different from what we’ve been doing all the other nights.”

“Come on! We have to tone it down once the guests are here. It’s our last chance to go crazy.”

Archer sighed and scrubbed his face.

“You can sleep in plenty this summer,” Caleb continued when he saw the chink in the armor. “Once the shows are running and Stewart leaves, you can sleep in every morning.”

“Wait, Stewart is leaving?”

“Yeah, you know, like in an actual Broadway show. The director gets the show going then takes off to do other things.”

“Like… drink tea and pet their dog?”

Caleb laughed. “Exactly. He’ll show up a couple more times for a check-in, but mostly we’ll be on our own. Anyway”—he grabbed Archer’s hand again—“it’s the last night . Let’s go, sexy.”

Well, then. Caleb’s hand was warm. Archer stood. It was the last night, after all.

It was close to midnight when they were stretched out on the dock with a few of the other dancers, legs dangling over the side, panting after the exertion and skin tingling from the cool water. Archer studied Caleb, his features aglow and more beautiful than ever in the lantern light. The water beaded on his smooth skin, running down the groove between his abs until it collected in the fuzzy pineapple-yellow beach towel that was slung low around his hip bones. And below those hip bones… Archer had a peek as they threw themselves off the dock into the dark water, and that part of Caleb was, well… it was rather beautiful, too.

As if he knew what he was thinking, Caleb whipped his head around and threw him a devilish grin. “Aren’t you glad you came along?”

“Yeah.” Archer brushed a hand over the goose bumps on Caleb’s arm. “You were right.”

“I usually am, Archer.” Caleb’s eyes dropped down to Archer’s hand for a second, then back up. “Last one inside does a shot!” he announced. In one fluid motion, Caleb was on his feet, chucking his towel in Archer’s face and running down the dock back to the cabin, whooping as he went. The rest of the crew followed, shrieking and laughing.

Archer shook his head, chuckling. Cute ass, too.

Idea! Archer texted Lynn the next morning. Why don’t you take her to that pop-up bar in Tribeca? The one that’s in the alley, which sounds creepy, but it’s all strung with a million fairy lights. I saw some pics on Insta and it’s gorgeous. You could get the bartender to garnish her drink with the ring.

Ooh! That sounds beautiful, she replied. I’ll suggest that for our next date. I think we’re going out tomorrow night. Thanks, Arch! How are things going with you? Mateo in love with you yet?

Lol. Mateo is all business. He barely talks to me. But… remember Caleb? The one who stole all my clothes? Turns out… he’s kinda cute.

Oh yeah? Like fuckable cute?

Archer considered for a moment. Maybe? I don’t think it’ll be anything serious, but…

Get it, girl. Keep me posted. And GOOD LUCK TOMORROW! brEAK A LEG!

Thanks, babe. You too.

Sunday rehearsal went smoothly. Archer was confident with Retro , which they would perform tomorrow on their opening night. Latin was always fun—even though Mateo barely looked at him when they weren’t dancing—and hip-hop felt good, too. There was more to learn later in the week, but he was ready enough.

Archer was pulling his sweats on after rehearsal when Mateo approached.

“Archer, can I talk to you for a second?”

He sucked in a breath and waited for Mateo to give him shit about his turnout again. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted some extra rehearsal? I don’t mind meeting with you a few times to go over the choreo this week. You’ve had a lot to take in, and we haven’t even gotten to contemporary yet.”

Archer’s stomach dropped. Wow, he must think I’m absolute garbage. Didn’t offer it to any of the Bs. “Sure, I guess, if you think I need it.”

“It’s not that—we have a pas de deux in that show. Thought we could at least start blocking it out before the group rehearsal.”

“What? We do?” Archer’s brow furrowed. Why on earth would they give him a pas de deux with Mateo fucking Dixon?

Mateo read his confusion. “They were looking for a male ballet dancer at the audition specifically for this. They chose you.”

“They were? They did?” The weirdest feeling blossomed in Archer’s chest.

“Well, yeah.” Something close to a smile threatened to creep over Mateo’s face.

The words swirled around his brain. Why was Mateo being so nice to him? It was hard to swallow with the lump in his throat. “Thanks,” he scratched out.

“So… do you want some extra rehearsal?”

“Yeah. Yes. Yes, please. Definitely.”

Mateo’s eyes softened. “If you want to watch Eva tonight, we can do it after the first show?”

“Sure. Where, though, if the theater is full?”

“Yeah, there’s not really anywhere great, but if you find me at the cabin after, let’s say at eight, I’ll show you.”

Shady Queens was at her sparkling best. The buildings glowed a fresh white in the afternoon sun. Brightly colored boats painted like different LGBTQ+ flags bobbed in the water along the main dock. The grass was green, the paths were neatly trimmed, the sand was raked smooth on the volleyball courts… Everything was ready for the guests.

Off-duty staff were generally not to be seen around the resort, but they had free rein of the staff dorms, dining hall, and cabin. They could even swim around the employee dock as long as they weren’t loud or rowdy. Archer had definite plans to work on his tan this summer, but for now he had one thing on his mind: sleep.

He showered and crashed hard in his bed until Ben shook him awake a couple hours later at dinnertime. He realized he hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to his other roommates the last few days, having spent most of his free time with Caleb.

“How’s your week going, guys?” Archer asked, digging into his stir-fry.

“Good,” Ben said at the same time Beau snipped, “Fine.”

Archer glanced between them. “Okay?”

Beau’s gaze shifted sideways at Ben. “Ben’s having a great week.”

Ben sighed, eyes rolling. “I was not checking him out.”

Beau smiled a tight smile and patted Ben’s leg. “Of course not, love.”

“Um.” Archer froze, fork hovering. “Checking who out?” He instantly regretted asking, of course, but it was too late.

Now Ben had a tight smile of his own. “Beau thinks I was checking out Gage.”

“He’s stone cold,” Beau said, stabbing his chicken with a fork. “Why wouldn’t you check him out?”

“Yeah, he’s hot, but just because I happened to be looking at him—”

“So you admit he’s hot?” Beau’s eyebrow arched dangerously high.

“I—” Ben shut his mouth with a snap and gave Archer a desperate will-you-help-me-out-here? look.

Archer chewed slowly, looking between the two. “Nothing wrong with noticing someone is hot, right?” he ventured.

Beau studied him for a moment. “Of course not, Archer.” He took a delicate bite.

“Speaking of hot,” Archer continued, “I’m so excited for the show tonight.” Sadly, in all his time in New York, focused as he was on auditioning and saving money, he hadn’t seen much drag.

“Oh my God, we saw Eva in New York last fall!” Beau announced and, happily, the subject was changed.

Ben flashed Archer a grateful look.

Eva Stiff was a marvel. She was at least six foot eight with her platform heels and towering pink wig, wrapped neck to ankle in shimmering gold fabric. The dancers were allowed to watch the show from the wings, so Archer crowded in with the rest of the troupe, except Mateo, who was not there.

“Isn’t she fierce?” Dominik whispered in awe as she took the stage to the utter delight of the crowd.

“Amazing.”

Eva opened with a Cher song, and the audience ate it up. She was funny and smooth, pulling assorted guests up on stage as the show went on. The first participant was a small, delicate-looking elderly woman who was wearing a lilac dress with a matching hat, but she bounded up onto the stage with the alacrity of someone half her age and hugged Eva like they were old friends. She came up to the drag queen’s rib cage.

“Give it up for Ms. Eileen Lamb!” Eva cried.

So they did know each other. “Who is Ms. Eileen Lamb?” Archer whispered to Caleb as Eva wrapped a feather boa around Eileen’s shoulders.

“She’s basically a resident guest, been coming for years and years,” he replied. “She’s here all summer, and she almost never misses a show. She hits on the other elderly lesbians.”

“Oh, nice,” Archer replied, watching Eileen shimmy along to the music.

Eva was fabulous—upbeat, whip-smart, and a little naughty. Archer could see why she was starting to make it big.

“Archer, you coming?” Betty asked when it was over. “We’re gonna go grab a drink with Eva before the second show.” She bobbed her head at the greenroom.

Mateo would be waiting for him. “Nah, I told my parents I’d call them.”

For some reason, he didn’t want Caleb to know where he was going. He ran back to his room to change and grab his duffel, then made his way down to the cabin.

Mateo was leaning on the railing, hands loosely clasped, gazing out over the lake. There were a few employees drifting here and there, but most were either working or at the theater.

Mateo turned his head when the step creaked under Archer’s foot.

“Hi,” Archer said. “You didn’t want to see Eva Stiff?”

“Nah. Not in the mood for a crowd.” He turned back to the water.

“Hmm.” Archer joined him at the railing and took in the view. “Nice night.” The sun was just vanishing behind the trees, leaving the water a shimmering molten gold.

Mateo nodded, the light reflecting off his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

“You feel ready for the week?” Archer asked. There were a few butterflies in his stomach, to be honest, after seeing how incredible Eva was. Shady Queens didn’t mess around with amateurs.

Mateo half shrugged. “We’ll pull it off. Helps that we’re working on our pas de deux now.”

Archer nodded. “So where are we going?”

Mateo grabbed a flashlight off the railing. “Follow me.”

They thumped down the steps, but instead of heading back toward the resort like Archer expected, Mateo turned and went past the cabin, taking a shadowed path that led farther into the trees.

Archer hurried after him, following the patch of light at Mateo’s feet.

They walked in silence, the trees swallowing up the resort behind them until it felt like they were the only two people on earth. Their path met up with a broader, smoother one, and they continued up a moderate incline.

“Where are we going?” Archer asked when his calves were starting to burn.

“Right… here,” Mateo said, stopping and turning off the flashlight.

Archer blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. They were in a clearing of packed grass ringed by small boulders and maples, white flowers winking at them from the shrubs below. It was lovely. “What’s this place?”

“There are hiking trails all around the lake, and the resort does yoga and aerobics classes here sometimes when the weather’s nice. It’s not perfect, but since we’re blocking and not en pointe or anything, it should work.”

Archer nodded and dropped his bag. Guess he wouldn’t need his ballet shoes. He kicked off his flip-flops. Bare feet, it was.

Mateo followed suit, and they stepped together into the center of the clearing.

“Alright, so…” Mateo started. “We’re dancing to ‘Dance of the Blessed Spirits,’ from Orfeo ed Euridice . Do you know it?”

Archer nodded and grinned. “Did my first ballet recital to that song.”

Mateo paused, blinking. “You did?”

He nodded again. “I was four.”

“That’s crazy.” Mateo scratched his head. “I did, too.”

A surprised laugh escaped Archer’s lips. “What? No way.”

They stood, smiling at each other, until Mateo cleared his throat and settled into position. “We start in third, and fondu…”

Mateo led him through the steps—entrechat, piqué en tournant, cabriole… He was patient and steady, hands sure against Archer’s waist, supporting him exactly when required. It was weird for Archer because of course he’d always been the one supporting his partner, but now Mateo was there for him through lifts and pirouettes. It was an athletic number, too, with plenty of leaps and jumps, and even though they weren’t going full out, it left Archer sweating.

“Then we finish with a pirouette into double tour”—Mateo demonstrated effortlessly, pirouetting before whirling through the air in a double turn, then landing on a knee, arms extended gracefully—“down to knee.”

Damn. Seeing the muscle and power behind Mateo’s dancing, right up close under the moonlight… Archer could barely swallow as his mouth dried out. “Got it. Water break?”

The silver light reflected the sweat glistening along Mateo’s hairline. “Sure.”

Across the path was a boulder, jutting out over a rise. The lake glimmered through a gap in the trees below them. Mateo sat and stretched his legs out. Archer climbed on next to him. The silence between them was thick, punctuated by the ever-present crickets.

“So… this is your first season at Shady Queens?” Archer asked.

Mateo looked at him sharply, eyebrow raised. “You know it is.”

A few responses swarmed Archer’s tongue— I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, just trying to get to know you better —but before he could choose one, Mateo softened.

“Sorry.” He looked back at the lake. “It’s… I can only imagine what people say about me.”

“They don’t say that much.” Archer studied Mateo’s rugged profile. His brow was furrowed in his usual “don’t bother me” manner.

Mateo snorted. “Sure they don’t.”

“Well…” Archer wiggled his earth-stained toes. “A little maybe.”

Mateo didn’t reply, only picked up a small twig and twirled it between his fingers.

“They say…” Archer ventured, “… the fame went to your head. Partying and… stuff.”

“Stuff, hey?” Mateo blew a small, amused breath through his nose. “Yeah, I guess ‘partying and stuff’ about covers it.” He tossed the twig into the brush.

Archer shrugged. “I’d party too if I was the star of a smash hit.”

Mateo didn’t reply for a full minute, and Archer simply waited.

“I’ve been sober since,” Mateo said, voice low, then he glanced over at Archer, reading the confusion on his face. “I’ve been drinking nonalcoholic beer.”

“That’s great, Mateo.” Archer reached over and rested his hand on Mateo’s, just for a second.

Their eyes met. Mateo looked like he wanted to say something else, but he turned and slid off the rock and dusted off his sweats.

“Again?”

“Again.”

They ran through it again, and again, until the moon was high, Archer’s feet were black, and his water bottle empty.

“How did you get here?” Mateo asked on their way back down. “I’m surprised you’re not dancing in a company somewhere.”

“Oh.” Archer captured the flutter in his heart at Mateo’s words and tucked it away for later. “No, I—I was an accountant in Ohio until five months ago.”

Mateo laughed, then stopped, seeing Archer’s face. “You’re serious?”

“Completely. Spent the last five months in New York auditioning, and I couldn’t book a single gig.”

“Oh, well…” Mateo waved a hand. “It’s all politics, who they hire, or it’s completely subjective. You know, the casting director just got dumped by a blond so they don’t even look at you. Or their cousin’s friend’s little brother is auditioning so they pick him. Or they choose the guy they want to fuck. Not that you’re not fuckable.” He cleared his throat. “Not that you are. I mean—Fuck.”

Archer tried not to laugh. “Thanks?”

“Anyway…” Mateo marched ahead without looking at him. “There are a million reasons someone might not pick you, and they have nothing to do with your dancing.”

They had reached the cabin. They stopped.

“Thanks, Mateo. That was… really fun.” Archer realized that this rehearsal had been the most fun he’d had so far at Shady Queens.

“You’re welcome.” Mateo’s gaze was soft as it landed on Archer.

For a split second, it felt like the end of a date, and Archer’s eyes went to Mateo’s lips, before he scolded himself for being ridiculous. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said, hoping Mateo couldn’t see his blush in the dim light.

“You bet.”

Archer fell asleep with the thought of Mateo’s long, strong body lifting his as they moved in the moonlight.