Chiaroscuro (22 page)

"Go on with you," Jamie said and picked up the crisp white shirt. The insignia sewn to it were generic and unofficial mock-ups of Navy insignia, but it looked real enough for a party. The shoes were a little tight--he had bigger feet than most people suspected, given his height--but the hat fit, at least. Jamie saluted himself in the mirror, straightened his shoulders and left Dune's bedroom for the party.

Dune lived in a loft, built into a restored warehouse. All of his furniture was modular or on casters so it could be easily rearranged, and was now pushed against the walls for maximum space. Dune had decorated with cotton cobwebs and plastic spiders, skull-shaped lights, orange and black balloons, and a plastic skeleton that pointed the way, a sign reading "Abandon Hope All Ye That Enter Here" hanging from his arm. He had dance music playing on his stereo and food out in the kitchen counters, including plenty of chocolate and candy corn and cookies. "We may no longer be kids," he had said to Jamie, "but we still deserve candy."

People had already started to arrive, greeting Dune with hugs and kisses and laughter at his outfit. There was a lot of exposed skin among the other guests: there were harem girls, slinky vampires, Chippendale dancers, sexy cowboys. It made Jamie feel overdressed.

Jamie started making drinks in the kitchen, kissing his friends and acquaintances hello as they wandered in. Several people asked him to say things like "hello, love," or "smoke me a kipper," which he obligingly did.

"No one's said 'hello, sailor' to me yet," he remarked as he gave Dune a martini.

Dune leaned over the counter and said in his most sultry voice, "Hello, sailor."

Jamie laughed. "I thank you and my ego thanks you." He poured himself a martini with three olives. "Good crowd."

"I'm very pleased." He sipped his martini, and then started up. "Um, Jamie--"

Jamie looked at the doorway, which Dune had left open. Two kids, dressed like Kerouac-era beatniks down to the goatees and berets, were lurking in the doorway as if uncertain they were in the right place. Jamie was about to tease Dune about expanding his demographic when he realized that one of the boys was Micah.

He narrowed his eyes at Dune, who was already apologizing. "We've been keeping in touch. Emailing and talking on the phone. He really needs somebody to talk to about this whole thing."

"So he turned to you."

"I like him, Jamie. Even if he is a twit sometimes."

"And the other kid? Is that the roommate?"

"Yeah, that's Ryan. Jamie, he's only eighteen, he--"

Jamie downed the rest of his martini in a gulp, shuddering at the sting of the vodka. "And you invited him here tonight. Fuck you, Dune. You're supposed to be my best friend."

"I am your best friend. But I'm his friend, too. And I happened to mention the party and invited him without thinking about it."

"Well, thank you," Jamie said tartly, "and fuck you very much. How could you even think this would be okay? Good lord, Dune. He's the last person I wanted to see tonight. You could have warned me, at least--given me some time to prepare myself."

"I'm sorry, Jamie," Dune said unhappily.

Jamie rubbed his hand over his face. "I'm going home."

"You just got here--the party's just started--"

"I don't want to be here with him around," Jamie said, trying not to look at where the two boys were starting to mingle with the other guests. Micah's smile was uncertain, but Ryan had a hand firmly wrapped around his arm, steering him from one person to another.

"Now you're just being childish."

"Oh, I'm being childish. Fine. I shouldn't stay out past curfew, then." He turned towards Dune's bedroom to collect his clothes.

"You can't let this paralyze you!"

"Oh, yes, I can."

"At least stay until Ben comes."

Jamie glared at Dune and stalked into his bedroom, where he sank onto the edge of the bed and held his face in his hands.

Ben--Ben would make everything better--except he wouldn't. Why should he care if Micah was here with his new boyfriend? Why should he care if the sight of them made Jamie ache?

They hadn't slept together again in the few days since the first time--they'd hardly had time to speak since Ben was so busy with holiday orders. Jamie missed him, but didn't press it. He'd been busy enough himself with freelance work and trying to get his art ready for the show. There were meetings scheduled and sponsors to meet and Simon had mentioned interviews for the Chronicle and a few other local papers, all to be done before the opening in February. He and Ben hadn't even talked about the party except for, "Will you be there?" and "Yes, I will."

He looked up when the bedroom door opened: it was Ben in an overcoat, a parcel wrapped in a garbage bag under his arm. "Hey," he said and sat beside Jamie on the bed. "I heard you were hiding in here."

"I'm not hiding."

Ben studied him, and then patted his back and stood. "I need to get the rest of my costume on."

"Sure." He lay back on Dune's bed, his arms under his head. "Micah's here."

Ben started unwrapping his parcel. "I know. I saw him."

"With his roommate. Ryan. Kid looks like I could snap him in half."

"He's not so bad."

"Not so bad? You've talked to him too, then?"

"Just the one time, at their dorm. I kind of feel sorry for him, if you want to know the truth. He's the next heart Micah will be breaking." He pulled off the garbage bag to reveal a set of feathery white wings. "Not bad, don't you think?"

"You're dressing up as an angel?"

"You'll see in a second." He put the wings on the coverlet and unbuttoned his overcoat.

Jamie watched him, then said, "I told Dune I'm leaving. I don't want to be here with the both of them here, too."

"So why didn't you go?" Ben said, shrugging off his coat.

"I wanted to see you first." He sat up at the sight of Ben's costume: white leather shorts and sturdy work boots, and that was it. "Good God."

Ben smiled and rolled his shoulders. "Not exactly God. I'm thinking more like St. Michael on his day off."

"Must be when they go dancing on the head of the pin. Do you need help getting on the wings on?"

"If you don't mind, sure." He turned his back to Jamie and Jamie picked up the wings. "So are you going to go, now that you have seen me?"

"I, um." He guided Ben's arms through the elastic bands that would hold the wings on, and settled them carefully on Ben's back. The wings fit snugly against his shoulder blades, and Jamie ran his fingers down his spine to the black Celtic knotwork tattoo at the small of his back. "What's this?"

"I got that when I came out. Marking the moment, you know?"

"That's a good idea." He ran his thumb over it and smiled when Ben inhaled. "Good place for it, too. Did Dune tell you his true self theory?"

"No, he, um, didn't."

Jamie smiled again. Ben sounded like the last thing on his mind was Dune. "He says at Halloween it's your one opportunity to be your true self. I wondered if St. Michael having a night out was your true self or not."

"My true self," Ben said, turning carefully and putting his arms around Jamie, "is the guy you see on normal days--the one with flour in his hair and frosting on his nose." He kissed Jamie sweetly. "And if this is your true self, I have to say I prefer the guy with paint under his fingernails who always looks preoccupied."

"I'm not always preoccupied," Jamie muttered and kissed him back. "I've missed you."

"Missed you too, gorgeous. I'm sorry things have been so busy. You should have come and pounded on my door when you wanted me."

"I wanted to let you sleep, too," Jamie said.

"I'm awake now." He smiled at him. "Come and dance with me. No pins, I promise."

Jamie shook his head. "I'm going home--I'm not in the mood for a party anymore."

"Jamie, Jamie, Jamie….haven't you ever heard that the best revenge is living well?" Jamie sighed and leaned his head against Ben's neck, and Ben kissed the top of his head. "So come out of the bedroom and dance with me. Laugh. Drink. Eat candy. Have a great time at a fabulous party and drive Micah mad with jealousy."

"I'd rather drive you mad with something else."

Ben laughed, deep in his chest. "Later."

"Promise?" He ran his hand up Ben's ribs.

"Absolutely--after the party you can do anything you like to me. But that's after the party, after you've proved to Micah that you're doing just fine, and after you've shown Ryan that he's not half the man you are." He held Jamie's face in both hands and kissed him. "Crawling home to hide isn't going to do a damn thing."

"You really think that's what I ought to do?" he said, sounding uncertain and small.

"Yes." Ben stroked Jamie's cheekbones with his thumbs. "For yourself, if no one else."

Jamie closed his eyes a moment. "You'll be with me."

"Yes. You'll have your guardian angel at your back." He smiled and kissed Jamie again.

"All right, then." He put an arm around Ben's waist. "And remember your promise--after the party I can do anything I like to you."

"I will remember," Ben said, rolling his eyes.

***

They were the most beautiful couple at the party, Ben thought proudly. Jamie really didn't belong in uniforms but the costume emphasized the perfect proportions of his compact body, his slender waist and strong shoulders. As Ben put him at ease, Jamie talked happily, laughed heartily, danced in Ben's arms.

Micah couldn't keep his eyes off Jamie, either, and Ryan noticed it as surely as Ben did. When he caught Micah looking Ben couldn't stop himself from shooting back a triumphant answering look: He's fine without you. Just fine.

Micah started towards him but Ryan pulled him back and whispered something to him urgently, and Ben turned his head away to nuzzle Jamie's hair. Who cared what those kids did. He had Jamie.

"Jamie's doing pretty okay," Dune remarked to him in the kitchen when Ben refreshed his drink.

"Yeah. Sorry about all the drama."

Dune shook his head. "That's just Jamie. You know artists." He nudged Ben lightly. "As you are one."

"Are you accusing me of being a prima donna?" Ben said with a chuckle.

"I've yet to be in your kitchen--I'll decide then. Though the cookies are delicious."

"It's hard to mess up sugar cookies." He picked up one shaped and frosted like a smiling jack-o-lantern and bit into it.

Dune took another. "So, who are you going home with? Have you decided?"

Ben nodded as he swallowed. "Jamie. I made a promise."

"Oh," Dune said in an understanding tone.

Ben looked at him. "What?"

"Nothing--just, 'oh.'"

Ben ate his cookie. "I know it's not like me, but--Jamie--"

"I know. He makes you want to break the rules." He smiled at Ben and patted his back. "Great costume, by the way. You're the most fuckable angel I've ever seen."

"Thank you," Ben said dryly.

Dune kissed his cheek, dusted sugar from his hands. "Love you madly. Dance with me if you can ever tear yourself away from your soldier boy."

"Sailor," Ben corrected. "Aye, aye, sir."

He left the kitchen to go back to the party, which was winding down. People were mostly lazing on the sofa and floor cushions, the music had been turned low, and the conversation was rambling and random. Jamie had long ago abandoned the cap and shoes that came with his costume, and unbuttoned his shirt to get comfortable. He smiled at Ben and moved over on his cushion to make room for him. Ben bumped down and stretched out his legs, but didn't lean back--it would crush his wings.

"You lost your drink along the way," Jamie remarked.

"If I'm patient it'll find its way home."

Jamie chuckled and sat up, put his hands on Ben's shoulders and started to massage them. Ben let his eyes fall closed and his body relax, making a soft happy sound in his chest.

"I'm starting to think it's time to go home," Jamie said.

"Where you get to have your way with me."

"What do you think I'm doing now?" There was a smile in his voice, and he lightly kissed Ben's shoulder. Ben closed his eyes as Jamie's fingers danced down his spine and traced along his muscles.

He cleared his throat. "You set the bar too low if this is all you want."

Jamie laughed and went on rubbing his shoulders. Ben pulled up one leg and leaned forward, resting his chin on his knee. Talk went on around them, soft and friendly, and he smiled, thinking how relaxing the night had turned out to be.

Jamie's hands paused, and he said softly, "Stay right there," as he got to his feet. Ben turned to watch Jamie hurry back to Dune's bedroom and then return with a sketchbook in his hand. He sat down on the floor behind Ben again and gently pressed on his cheek to turn his head back the other way.

"What are you doing?"

"Drawing you," Jamie said absently and snapped his sketchbook open.

"Oh," Ben said and rested his cheek on his knee again, arms loose around his leg. In a moment he could hear the scratch of Jamie's pencil on the paper. He breathed evenly, wanting to turn and ask how it was going, but that would ruin the pose.

Other guests were starting to notice--starting to move over behind Jamie and watch him draw. Some of them asked him questions, how long he'd been drawing, where had he learned how, until Dune shooed them away. "Let the man work, people."

Work. Right. This was just work for Jamie. There was no reason, Ben thought, for him to find it so exciting. He knew Jamie had drawn him before but that had been from memory, nothing so immediate as this. Damn, how did professional models do it? How did they deal with their bodies being scrutinized? What if he had moles or pimples or excessive hair?

"Breathe, Benjie," Jamie said from behind him and Ben smiled and slowly inhaled. "Don't think about me," Jamie went on in the same soothing voice. "Don't even think about the sketch. Don't think of your body as 'yours'--think of it like watching a movie."

"How do you not think of your own body as 'yours'?" Ben said in a reasonable tone, but didn't break the pose.

Jamie chuckled. "I have no idea--it's what my instructors used to say to new models in life-drawing class. I'm almost done, at least."