Page 176 of Naughty Dreams

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DJ bent his elbows to tilt the mic toward him for the final verses.

A plea

A cry

An offering.

Of myself.

Lift me in both hands

Set me free to fly.

And I will always fly back to you.

To my Master.

Master.

Master.

I am yours

I am blissful as nothing

Lost in you

Part of you

Obviously.

These verses came down off that screaming ledge with a loud whisper of raw pain and revelation, the journey DJ and Roy had taken together these past months. As the final notes rolled away, DJ cut the mic, laid it on the step, and returned to his waiting position.

On his knees, wrists offered up for binding.

The echoes of the music and his voice faded. Maybe he’d gone into some weird space where he was blind and deaf to the world around him, as sometimes happened when he was creating, or performing.

But then he realized it was an expectant silence. Everyone was still and waiting, because something had happened that told them that was what the moment required.

He heard the purposeful stride then, moving up the side ramp to the platform where the dancer stood. The performer stepped away, and someone else took his place.

Someone who used Mountain Air Dial and smelled like a winter fire. DJ closed his eyes, and they stayed closed as a familiar touch brushed his brow, his mouth.

“Look at me, Dory.”

The wave of relief at hearing his Master’s name for him was so strong, he almost passed out. Maybe he would have, and never would have lived it down, but Roy’s hands closed over his wrists.

When he cracked open his eyes, Roy was on his heels in front of him, strong and broad and taking up all the space in DJ’s scope of vision.

I need you, need you, need you.

You fill up my space.

Lift me in both hands

Set me free to fly.

Maybe he said that last part. Maybe it was just in his eyes, but Roy rose, drawing DJ up with him.

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