I knew I was in trouble when Lance came to my hotel room all decked out in black, sporting pale foundation and black eyeliner.

"What the hell are you?" I asked.

"What, Chris. You don't like?" he said. He turned around showing my his outfit -- showing me his leather-panted ass.

"Dude, it's not Halloween." I said. "By my calculations, it's closer to Christmas."

"So you want me dressed up in a Santa suit instead?" he said.

I shuddered at the naughty thoughts I was having. Lance as Santa would be interesting -- maybe he would let me lick his 'candy cane.' I mentally smacked myself. This could go some frightening places if I didn't get myself in line, quick.

Lance helped me pick out some suitably "goth" clothes. I decided to pass on the make-up.

"Awww. Let me do your eyeliner, at least," Lance whined.

"No way. I'm not wearing eyeliner," I said.

"But you'll look so cute as a little goth boi!" Lance persisted.

Lance thinks I'm cute? Well, with eyeliner anyway, but, really? I couldn't help but grin at him.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

"No, it's not a yes. No freaky eyeliner for me." I said.

"Well, suit yourself," Lance said. He put the eyeliner pencil in a black velvet purse and swung it over his shoulder.

He must have noticed the way I was looking at him.

"What?" he said. "These pants are a little tight and I can't fit anything into the pockets."

"So you're going to bring apurse?" I said.

"Nobody's gonna care," he said. I nodded reluctantly as he nodded towards the door. "Let's go."

Inside the club was a dark, swelling mass of people. I couldn't quite tell what the song playing was, but I think it was David Bowie.

"Let's get a drink first," Lance said.

"'K," I said. I was going to need it. The lights were dancing off Lance's hair and skin in such a provocative way. He turned to me when we got to the bar, and those same lights danced off his eyes. Little green orbs speckled with blue, fuchsia, red. Gorgeous. Must. Not. Look. Turn. Head.

"What are you having?" the bartender asked.

Ah, saved. I pried my eyes off Lance and said, "Gin and Tonic, please."

"That's so boring," Lance said. "I'll have a Black Orchid."

"Ewww. You and your 'gothic' drinks," I said.

We headed out to the dancefloor, and I wasn't quite sure what to do. There were bodies gyrating everywhere -- not like in regular clubs, but more gracefully, more seductively.

"I'm gonna go dance," Lance said. "I love this song."

I watched him make his way to a dark corner waving his arms gracefully as he went. For some reason, with this music, he was and incredible dancer. He shook his hips and crawled around that dancefloor like I'd never seen him do before.

After the song finished, he ran over to me, slightly sweaty and out of breath.

"Man, I feel like I just got a sugar rush," Lance said.

"Scoop, I sure am impressed with that display of movement you just gave me there," I said. My tone was only slightly mocking -- I truly meant it.

"Yeah, I know. I'm actually dancing good. Something about the music I guess," He said.

Definitely something about the music. By the end of the night I had danced harder and more confidently that I ever had. So now here we are, me clutching my stomach, wishing I hadn't tried one of Lance's Black Orchids.

"Are you okay Chris?" Lance asked. He had come out from the shadowed dancefloor and crouched down next to me, putting his arm around me.

"Yeah, I think I'll be okay," I said. "But let's go soon. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Okay," he said. "How 'bout we dance to one more song."

"All right," I said. "Then we can go?"

"Yes, then we'll go," he said.

The song that came on was morbid and pulsating. Lance dragged me out on the dance floor by the hand. He started doing that sexy thing with his hips that I had seen him do earlier. I got into the motions of the song and listened to the lyrics. You promised more than bliss, with your God and with your kiss. Take me, take me in your arms, my love

Lance danced closer to me and put his arms on my shoulders. I welcomed the closeness and put my hands on his hips. Lance leaned forward and sucked on my neck. I just about lost my balance as my weight shifted backward, surprised by Lance's boldness.

I stopped him and held his head in my hands. He just grinned at me. I saw the lights catch in his eyes again. I was trapped. I leaned into him and kissed him. His mouth was warm and sugary. His tongue grazed over my teeth and the song ended.

"Let's go, Chris," he said.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," I said. I put my arm around his waist and we walked out, the cold air tingling our faces.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 10/18/00, with the words tonic, David Bowie, sugar rush, candy cane, Christmas.