Night in the City of Paper

Champagne and a Dance

Being a king was a lot of things, but mostly it was frustrating. Endlessly frustrating. So as the new king wove his way between the royals and the rich he found himself, for once, not stressed.

"A drink?" A deep voice cut through his train of thought. He turned to see a man wearing a mask, not unusual at the masquerade, holding out a glass of something bubbling.

"Thank you," The king wrapped his fingers around the drink. Champagne. They stood on the edge of the pool of dancing people. The clashing melody of shoes on marble, people conversing, and the music playing created a harmony of orchestrated chaos. But the party itself was suddenly far less interesting than the man beside him. The King risked a glance at him.

He had black hair, cut short, and skin darker than the night sky. The mask he was wearing was black with gold detailing. The part around his mouth was cut out.

The king adjusted his own mask. It resembled the makings of a clock, all painted the same rusty copper. It just passed his cheekbones.

The man placed his half-finished drink on the table beside them. The king quickly cast his eyes back to the crowd. He resisted the urge to turn back.

"Would you," the man paused. The King turned to him, struggling to stay calm. The man blushed, frozen. He quickly composed himself. "Would you like to dance?" He asked. His voice cracked. The king felt his heart hammering in his chest. 

The King couldn't hide his smile. "Of course." The man grinned, almost shocked at the response. The man slid his gloved hand into the King's and pulled him closer, leading them to the growing mass of dancers.

The King and the man fell into a practiced dance, feet moving as if they'd rehearsed a thousand times. They both probably had. The boring motions weren't hard to learn, it was the partner hat made it interesting.

The king's eyes seemed to travel everywhere except to the man's. Looking at the spinning room, their feet, their hands, his lips.

The music changed abruptly, from a sway to a louder, more classical song. People crammed closer together. The King was pressed to the man who, he hadn't noticed until now, was considerably taller than him. He also hadn't noticed that his eyes looked like stones in the sun. Warm and deceivingly soft.

He hadn't noticed the song change or the crowd thinning. Or that they were getting closer and closer. The King stomach twisted. His eyes flickered up to meet the man's.

"I don't even know your name," He whispered. The man smiled.

"All The more fun." He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the Kings. The king as too startled to move. To do much of anything other than close his eyes and notice how the man tasted like champagne and strawberries. The man pulled back, blushing slightly. 

The King hesitated. He didn't even know this man, and now they were displaying affection in a public place. What would people think? What did these people think? He was surrounded by people who could destroy his reputation. He was surrounded by terribly frightening people wearing smiles and pearls and this man.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over m-" The man started. The King pushed up on his toes and closed the space between them, not caring what anyone else saw. Not caring what happened after this moment.