Love, Centre Ring

Part 7


The atmosphere was charged, the excitement almost palpable. Smiles were on everyone’s faces, even those dripping with sweat from exertion. The last night was always this way. Troy still felt surprised by this reaction. He always thought he would feel more tired, only wanting to have it finally finished, but that wasn’t the case. It seemed as though the thought of moving onto new pastures thrilled everyone and inspired them to leave the current location on a high that the citizens would always remember.

He stood back stage and watched Aaron and Jubal in the ring. The Arabian music added to the enchantment being spun, twirling belly-dancers on the outer perimeter of the fencing lending flashes of color and sparkles, dazzling to the eye.

Aaron fitted the image of an exotic desert prince well, despite his fair complexion. Loose pantaloons of silk rippled in the breeze drifting through the tent, shifting with every move he made. His blond hair was loose, sweeping his shoulders. At the beginning of the performance, it had been neatly tucked beneath a turban which during the course of the act had been discarded allowing it to fall free around his face. His face bore a haughty yet noble expression. As Jubal coiled his trunk around Aaron’s ankle and lifted him upwards so he dangled head to the ground, his hair fell downwards like a shimmering curtain. Troy felt himself hold his breath, just as the audience did, when Jubal gave a mighty heave that righted Aaron who then balanced on the tip of the elephant’s trunk, poised there and regally gazing over the crowd like a king perusing his subjects. The crowd roared their appreciation, and Aaron accepted their adulation as if it was no more than his right.

The performance ended and he moved away from the entrance so Aaron and Jubal could exit unimpeded.

“You were great,” he said honestly, coming to stand beside Aaron and holding out a towel. “You were…magnificent.” He didn’t care if he sounded like one of the star-struck groupies who followed them. In his eyes, Aaron had truly been breath-taking.

“Thanks,” Aaron said, rubbing his face down and then his neck. He began to turn away, hand carefully guiding Jubal to one side where the elephant could be hobbled safely, away from the noise.

Troy stood back and just watched until Aaron was finished. He felt the sensations that were now so familiar begin to build inside; that roiling, churning sensation tying his guts in knots, fire spreading deep in his belly as whispers in his mind voiced his desire. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut it out. Ever since the accident he found himself reacting like this when in Aaron’s presence, and each day it grew stronger and harder to control.

At night he woke up drenched with sweat, breathing hard from the terrors that still gripped him, the image of Aaron falling burned into his mind. In those nightmares, things didn’t work out as well as they had in reality. In those dreams, he was unable to grab Aaron, his desperate clasp clutching nothing but air as he was forced to watch Aaron continue to fall, landing with a sickening thud on the ground below, a crimson pool staining the sawdust red. Now he ached to be with Aaron, yearned to be with him in every way possible, desperate and terrified that somehow he might lose him before he would ever have that chance.

He swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat as those dreadful thoughts returned. He couldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t want to pressure Aaron; he didn’t want to destroy the friendship they had finally developed. He didn’t want Aaron to hate him, but he couldn’t conceal his feelings any longer. He had to show Aaron just how serious he was. Aaron still might reject him but he had to be true to himself and at least know he had told the other man how he truly felt.

There was a crescendo of applause, punctuated by the beeping sounds of the clown’s car as it left the ring, when he heard the whistle announcing the next act to go on. Damn! He clenched his teeth. It was time for his troupe’s performance now.

Troy stepped forward. “Wait for me after, okay?” he said hurriedly, grabbing Aaron’s arm.

“Why? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Aaron said, shrugging him off.

“Troy, come on!” Troy turned at Pietre’s call, waving acknowledgement.

“Just wait for me,” he repeated, then left at a run, passing out of the darker area backstage and bursting into the bright lights flooding the centre ring.

The roar of applause swelled in his ears, washing over him and bringing with it the familiar surge of excitement he had felt since the first time he had stepped into the ring as a child. Was Aaron watching him from backstage? His troupe lined up side by side, throwing their arms up into the air to acknowledge the crowd. The roar increased and as they began their performance, Troy forced his thoughts to turn only to that, concentrating on every move, focusing on each turn, flip and summersault, basking in every ‘ooh!’ and ‘ahh!’ unconsciously released by the audience.

They all ran from the ring at the end of performance, greeted with, “Good work, everyone!” from Troy’s father. He tossed towels out, each unerringly caught to mop sweaty brows and hands, before being draped over bare shoulders to prevent any chance of a chill as hot bodies cooled.

Troy thankfully turned to walk away from the noisy clamoring, shaking his legs out. They didn’t change clothes as they were required to return to the ring for the grand finale shortly. He scanned the area and then saw a dim shadowy figure by the tent exit and as he drew closer could see Aaron sitting there. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“You waited,” he said, rubbing at his face again as he stopped in front.

“You’re the one who told me to,” Aaron said as he stood. “I don’t know why though.”

Troy paused. He didn’t even know how to begin with what he really wanted to say as fear stopped his words. He cleared his throat. “I just thought we could hang out till it was time to go back. Did you have something else to do?”

Aaron shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted.

“Good,” Troy draped his arm across Aaron’s shoulders, steering him away from the gathered throng of performers and crew. “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter why don’t we? You don’t really like crowds.”

“Uhm, well… I don’t always mind,” Aaron muttered. “It’s not so bad if...you’re with me.”

Troy felt his heart skip and flutter in his chest. How much could he read into that statement, he wondered. His arm automatically tightened its hold on Aaron as he slowed his steps, forcing them both to halt.

He turned to face Aaron, releasing him. He could feel that familiar fire flare anew, his breathing feeling strained. Aaron was backed up against a tent pole as Troy raised his hand, palm leaning on the sturdy metal above Aaron’s head

“Does that mean you like being with me?” he asked, looking at Aaron intently, leaning in towards him although their bodies didn’t touch. He felt his temperature rise another notch, the air between his and Aaron’s body feeling charged.

Aaron’s eyes skittered away from Troy’s face. “You’re okay,” he mumbled

“Do you like me more than anyone else here?” Troy continued to push. He wasn’t going to back down this time. He felt his body quiver, every muscle shivering as he realized how much he had been holding himself back for so long. He so desperately needed to know. “Do you?” he pressed.

Aaron still refused to look at him but he also wasn’t trying to leave. “I...guess.”

“More than Reagan? More than the Master?” Troy leant closer, his body getting hotter.

Aaron didn’t answer at first, the silence drawing out then he quietly said, “Yeah.” He now turned to look at Troy directly. “Does that make me weird?”

Troy shook his head, the feeling of joy filling his chest almost painfully. “No,” he said in a voice that shook a little. “No more weird than me.”

He slowly raised his other hand and moved it forward till his fingertips lightly touched Aaron’s cheek. Aaron’s eyes were wide, looking a little startled by the contact and Troy could feel the tenseness in his body so much that he feared the other would flee from him.

“I’ve been wondering for a long time what was wrong with me,” Troy admitted, trying to explain himself. “I didn’t know why but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Why? I’m not a girl, you know.” Aaron’s voice sounded tight as his arms crossed defensively across his chest, eyes flashing.

“I know,” Troy responded firmly. He swallowed hard. “I know,” he stressed again. “That’s why I thought I was crazy. That there was something really wrong with me. I’ve never…thought about a guy like this before.”

He reached down and took one of Aaron’s hands, raising it to rest on his own bare chest. “Feel that?” he said as his heart began to pound at the touch of Aaron’s flesh against his, unable to stop it. “That’s what you do to me. Every time I see you or am with you. Every time I touch you I feel like I’m going to go crazy.” He pressed Aaron’s hand harder against his skin. “I don’t want to scare you,” he said hoarsely, “but I want you so bad.”

He felt a shiver travel through Aaron’s body, feeling it in the hand he held. Aaron’s breathing had increased almost in time with Troy’s rapidly beating heart.

“Can I...kiss you?” Troy asked nervously, not knowing if he was perhaps destroying their newly hard-won trust and friendship by his impatience and inability to restrain his desire. “Please?”

The silence stretched, broken only by their hurried breaths, their gazes remaining locked. Troy had begun to believe that Aaron was going to refuse when he saw Aaron take a deep breath, his chin rising, lips pressing together in that familiar stubborn line. Then he said, “Do it.”

Troy thought he had misheard, frozen in place for an instance so great was his shock, but he swiftly recovered before Aaron could possibly change his mind.

He reached out and grasped Aaron’s chin gently, leaning further so their faces drew closer. He could feel the firmness of Aaron’s jawbone beneath his fingertips, his soft skin, the pulse pounding in his neck against his fingers resting there. He leant closer still, almost going cross-eyed as he kept his gaze locked with Aaron’s, afraid to look away or even blink in case Aaron ran from him. He could feel Aaron’s hot breath brushing against his lips, tiny gusts warming his already heated skin although their only physical connection was still through his hand cupping Aaron’s chin.

Being this close, his lips were almost touching Aaron’s. His tongue flicked out nervously to moisten dry lips, brushing against Aaron’s lightly, before gently pressing them fully over Aaron’s mouth. He felt Aaron’s whole body stiffen. Troy didn’t try to force anything more, his lips no more than pressing lightly over Aaron’s closed ones although his body shook with the effort of holding himself back, fearful of doing something wrong.

Then Aaron’s lips parted slightly as he released a breath, his body relaxing under Troy’s touch. Troy’s desire flared, his self-control slipping further as he took advantage of this moment of capitulation, feeling Aaron’s lips soften, molding to his. Now he allowed his body to move forward, resting against Aaron’s, as he deepened the kiss. He tried to remember to breathe through his nose as he felt himself growing light-headed. Aaron’s arm circled his back now, hand pressing against his bare skin, cool against his heated flesh. His body shook as he felt Aaron’s tongue flick forward and brush against his top lip and he tried to swallow a moan.

“FINALE!”

The cry reverberated out, shattering the silence that had encompassed them in their own world. Troy jerked back in surprised shock, leaping away from Aaron, swallowing a curse. They looked at each other, both breathing heavily.

“Finale! Move it, everyone! Finale!”

“We’d better go,” Aaron finally said, his voice shaking as he pushed away from the pole and turning.

Troy reached out, hand sliding around Aaron’s neck under his long loose hair, turning his head so he could crush his lips back on Aaron’s in a forceful brief kiss.

“We’ll finish this after,” he said gruffly.

He rested his forehead against Aaron’s for a moment and then pushed away from him, setting off at a run to join his troupe, one of the first groups to go back on. He cursed the timing, exceedingly aware of the uncomfortable stiffness in his pants. Just a kiss had made him so hard, making his mind spin. He stood in place, waiting for the signal to return to the ring, taking slow, deep breaths. He had to calm down, even though every part of him ached to be with Aaron.