Frostbite

Coffee is what keeps me alive. Micajah may be what keeps me happy, but coffee keeps my a functioning member of society. Honestly, it's the only reason besides Micajah I even come out of the house and endure all the fucking retards in the world.

Which is exactly the I didn't fight Micajah waking me up at five on a Saturday morning to get us to the studio together. A studio happily nestled in between a coffee shot and music store. Though, he did get a bit too anxious and we ended up there about forty minutes before we were scheduled.

"What do you want to drink?" I asked as I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, trying to keep his eyes from glaring at the openly gawking girls in a nearby booth. "Latte, cappuccino, hot chocolate?"

"Is that healthy?" He asked for the eightieth time this week.

"I don't know, babe. Come on, just forget the carbs and calories for a little bit."

"A little bit?" Folding his arms, he looked up at me with a raised brow. "Benjamin Thestrey, I've let you feed me nothing but cake, cookies, brownies, and chocolate milk for the past two weeks. I think that's more than a little bit."

"Hey, milk. Milk is healthy, right?"

"Not when it's loaded with artificial chocolate and fat!"

"it was two percent!" Turning to the cashier, I ordered green tea and black coffee to go.

"Anyway, I thought you liked my baking." I pouted as he reluctantly sat down to wait for the drinks.

"I do," he reassured me. "It's just that if we're going to be training we're going to have to eat healthier and work out more."

Wrapping my arm around his waist, I pulled him out of the seat and towards me. "How about you work on us eating probably and I'll make sure we get exercise."

As Micajah blushed and tried to free his lips, someone came and swiftly set our drinks on the counter before hurrying away. By the time I let him get away, he was a bright shade of red and his brown eyes were searching for reactions on nearby faces.

"How is that exercise?" He asked, covering his mouth oh so stealthily.

I shrugged. "Kissing burns six point four calories a minute. I thought we could workout before heading to this ballet place."

Rolling his eyes, he took my hand in his free one and pulled me out of the coffee shop. "I'm sure Mrs Ella will be delighted to meet you."



After Micajah changed and escaped my grasp, he headed out to great his ballet teacher, Mrs Ella. Well, our ballet teacher now. It still took some getting used to, knowing that all of Micajah's training would now be my own as well. I was glad to be able to share what he loved with him, but after looking at myself in the mirror I began to think that maybe I wasn't suited for this.

"Benjamin." Micajah called from outside of the locker room. The sound of a locked door trying to be opened came before and after his voice. "Benjamin, are you okay?" He asked, concerned.

"Yes." I squirmed in the black tights, trying to push aside my love for him and will myself to slip out of the tights.

"Why is the door locked?"

"So no one can get in."

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Why don't you want anyone in?"

"I look stupid." I admitted. "Do I have to wear tights?"

"Ben, I'm sure you look fine and I'm wearing the same thing. Just come on, Mrs Ella wants to meet you."

"Are you guys the only ones out there?"

"Yes, Benji. No one else is here." His hesitation didn't fully convince me, but I slowly opened the door anyway.

After taking a good long look at me and my tights, successfully making my cheeks heat up like no one else but him could, he wrapped his arm around my waist and led me to the main studio. The mirrors covering the walls only made me that much more uncomfortable.

There waiting in the middle of the room was rather skinny woman in what looked like a purple bathing suit. Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun and smile tight, making her the epitome of a ballet teacher in my head. She smiled at me like she was an angle that would welcome me to the gates of heaven. Not that I really thought I would be going to heaven with my life so far, but Micajah will be and I will beet down Jesus's holey black ass before I let that stand in my way of him. Her smile faltered as her eyes ran over the rest of me, bars through my nipples, red spots, and all.

After the pleasantry of introductions, Mrs Ella went off to find a pair of ballet slippers that I could use, because the tights weren't bad enough, and me and Micajah started stretching. Just like that day at the ice rink, he kicked his leg onto my shoulder and bent until he was splinting. When he let out a particularly loud groan, I quickly shook his leg off.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I pulled him towards me by instinct.

"I'm fine," He laughed. "I just haven't been stretching a lot lately."

Smirking, I said "Really? You were stretching quite a bit when-"

"How about some less complicated stretches?" He cut me off. Pulling me to the floor with him, he connected our feet so our legs formed a squished square and grabbed my hands. Leaning back, he pulled me until I groaned at my limit. When I pulled back, I was told to keep going 'till his chest and nose touched the floor. Deciding that this too was too complicated, for me, at least, we settled with the standard stretches.

Micajah connected his feet and curled his back, as if he was about to roll himself up like a mat, only his head stopped once it reached the floor. When he slowly brought himself back up, he looked at me staring and asked, "What?"

"Could you suck yourself off?"

"Benjamin!" He exclaimed, looking around to see that Mrs. Ella was nowhere near to overhear. "No, I do not suck myself."

"Hey, I just asked if you could. I didn't say you did." Smiling playfully, I raised onto my knees and crawled over him until his back was to the wood floor. "You have me for that."

"Let's see you do a split, Mr. Thestry." Mrs. Ella walked back in the room, a pair of gay looking shoes in hand and same smile plastered on her face.

"I'm afraid that's not possible ma'am," I smiled at her, standing up straight and pulling a red Micajah with me. "for I am not flexible nor do I have any desire to break my pelvis today."

She looked at me for a sign that I was kidding, but when she didn't get one she continued. " What can you do?"

"I can shoot a puck at ninety two mile per hour."

"He can jump." Micajah added, taking charge and steering all questions from my obviously undesired answers. "And lift. And kind of twirl."

"Well," Mrs. Ella let out a hard breath. "at least we have something. Let me see you jump."

Obeying, I jumped straight into the air only get one slightly annoyed look and one facepalm. "I feel it necessary to remind the both of you that I have no fucking idea what it is that I'm doing. I'm just wearing the tights."

After a few examples and a bit of practicing, we got things going at a steady pace. Mrs. Ella was surprised at how high I could jump for my size, which I've yet to decide to take as a complement or insult, and I only dropped Micajah once when his feet started flailing and hit me in the bellybutton on the way up. Needless to say, a day of practice didn't make me an expert at anything by a long shot, but I'd gotten the gist of things and learned that I'd be stretching a lot more than I usually do in the next few weeks.

Of course, this progress didn't by any means mean that this session was enjoyable. The whole time Mrs. Ella made subtle comments about how clumsy hockey players were and listed off a number of reason why that shouldn't try ballet. Oh, but the bitch assured me she didn't mean it about me, though I highly doubt she'd ever worked with any other hockey player before.

Luckily, Micajah was there to keep me from any outburst of anger. All he had to do was smile and I was ready to go again, only a little anger bubbling underneath. He just had that sort of calming effect.

After changing back, we said our goodbyes to Mrs. Ella and headed for the stairs, making sure to take careful steps.

"I really hate ballet." I announced once we were safely out of the building.

"Your grunting kind of gave it away." He informed me as I wrapped an arm around him possessively, highly aware of the unmistakably gaudy group of fags passing by. One of them didn't seem to get the hint and continued to ogle my boyfriend. I made it painfully obvious this wasn't allowed with a hard bump as we passed.

"Benjamin...." Micajah looked up at me with those big brown eyes that made me forget about anyone else. "You don't have to do that."

"I'm sorry." I said, genuinely apologetic. "I'm just a little annoyed. She's like my couch, only less yelling and more backhanded comments. And I can't hit a puck towards her and blame it on bad aim."

"She's just a bit stressed at the sudden change, I'm sure you are to. Do you want to go out somewhere?" He asked as we approached my car. "As a sort of relaxation thing."

"No." I answered immediately, not even wanting to think about being around any other human being but him. "Can we just go to my house and watch the Princes Bride or something?"

Perched on the seat, he raised an eyebrow at that. "You're willing to watch the Princes Bride with me? No complaints or anything?"

"Yeah." I smiled, pecking him softly on the lips. "I'd do anything for you. Obviously."

He rolled his eyes but placed a hand on my chest and kissed me anyway. "Whatever. You're just hoping it turns out like Moulin Rouge did."

I couldn't help but laugh at this. "Yeah, you can't say you don't either. But I'd seriously do anything for you. You know that, right? I love you."

"Yeah," he blushed "You tell me everyday."

"Only once a day? I need to step my game up. I love you. I love you a lot. I love you so much I'd stop listening to mettle. I love you more than Beast loved Bell. I love you to the moon and ba- scratch that. I love you to the farthest off galaxy and back. If love was a drug, you'd have made me me awhile ago. But that's okay, because I'd die happy knowing I got the chance to love you. I love you. I love you so mu-"

His hand clamped over my mouth then, cutting me off as soon as I was about to get to the good part. He blushed deeper as he removed his hand, using it to grip my shoulder and pull me closer.

"I love you too." He whispered before closing the small gap between out lips.

"Good." I smiled, glad that out of all seven billion plus people in the world he'd chosen me.