Chiaroscuro (29 page)

Read Chiaroscuro Online

Authors: Jenna Jones

BOOK: Chiaroscuro
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Jamie had drawn him many times before, naked, dressed, laughing, sober, contemplative, pulling faces. This was nothing unusual.

What was unusual, Jamie realized as he drew, was the creeping realization that this was not going to end the same way other drawing sessions had: with the two of them tumbling into bed to have enthusiastic, eager sex. It wasn't that he didn't desire Dune, he thought, pausing a moment--it was just that he was...

He wasn't Ben.

He nearly dropped his pencil.

"What is it?" Dune said, watching him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just, um--" This was not something he wanted to talk about. "You know, I haven't talked to Micah lately. How's he doing?"

"You haven't talked to Micah at all," Dune corrected gently.

"Well, can you blame me?"

"Yes," Dune said, "particularly since you still need to talk to him about that unprotected sex thing. It's a serious matter, Jamie."

"I know, I know….and I will once he's back in school. I can't give him the condom lecture in front of his parents."

"School's back in session on the sixth," Dune said calmly.

"Then I'll find him after the sixth."

"Though my dad mentioned inviting him to the New Year's party. I don't know if he'll come, but he'll probably be invited."

Jamie looked up at him and sighed. "Right. New Year's party. Fantastic."

"Aw, Jamie. You can still have fun with Micah there. You enjoyed the Halloween party."

"Because Ben was there to be a buffer."

"Oh, you're pouting now." Dune knelt in front of him and moved the sketchbook aside. "I know the cure for that." He supported himself with his hands on the floor by Jamie's hips and kissed him again.

Jamie whimpered at the familiar flare of lust, but still gently put his hands on Dune's shoulders and pushed him away. "Um."

"What? If you're out of condoms I've got some."

"It's not that. I just, um. Lord." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, wondering how to explain this. "It's just--there's Ben, you see."

Dune studied his face, and then sat back on his heels. "Oh, my God," he said in wonder.

"What?"

"I--" He sighed. "You know, for as long as I've known you I've thought you should be in love. It never occurred to me that it would shut me out if you were."

"Dunie, you're not shut out."

"Not wanting to sleep with me any more feels like being shut out."

"And I'm not in love with Ben. I just--"

"Want him more," Dune said. He got to his feet and scooped up his pants to pull them on. "I know it's the right choice, Jamie. I guess I didn't think it would happen so soon."

"I'm not in love with Ben," Jamie repeated. "And I still want to draw you."

"And I came here to get laid." There was no accusation in his voice as he continued getting dressed. "Forgive my bluntness."

"I wasn't sleeping with you when I was with Micah, either."

"Yeah, but I knew that wouldn't last long." He sat on the chair to put on his shoes again, and then looked at Jamie a bit despondently, hands dangling between his knees. "Fuck, I'm going to miss you."

Jamie stared at him. "What--I won't fuck you and suddenly we're not friends?"

"Of course we're still friends. We're just not friends who fuck anymore." He sighed, then stood and picked up his jacket. "I'll talk to you later. Don't forget about the New Year's party."

"Dunie--" Jamie said, but Dune left with a strained smile and a half-wave.

He would have preferred a punch in the mouth, Jamie thought, than that angry resignation.

And I'm not in love with Ben, he told himself stubbornly, even as he went to the phone and dialed Ben's number at the bakery. I just want to talk to him right now.

***

"You'll be nice to Micah if he's there, yeah?" Jamie said to Ben as they took the stairs to Leo and Adam's on New Year's Eve.

Ben shrugged. "It's a party. Even if the little twerp is snotty and annoying, I'll be polite."

"Well, that's better than nothing," Jamie said with a sigh. "Do I look okay?"

"You look great--you always do." They both were wearing suits tonight. When Jamie asked if it was a formal party Leo had waved a hand vaguely. "You look good dressed up." Jamie took that to mean yes.

The noise from Leo and Adam's flat could be heard from the end of the hall, but no neighbors would complain since they all were invited. The party had spilled out into the hall as well: Leo had set up chairs and even a few bistro-sized tables, where guests were drinking champagne and eating finger food.

Inside the flat they had decorated the whole place with fairy lights, even into the sun room where Leo had thrown open the doors despite the chilly air and promise of rain. Some of the neighborhood children--and others older than that--had sparklers lit, and they could hear fireworks going off already as well as people banging pots and pans as midnight grew closer.

Dune greeted Jamie with an absent-minded hug--they hadn't spoken much since the day after Christmas--and then left him to Simon, who had many people he wanted Jamie to meet. He drank champagne and talked about art, and now and again caught Ben's eye from across the room where Ben was captured by various lovely creatures who flirted with him openly.

But who could blame them? Ben was the most handsome man in the room, relaxed and graceful, with a smile for everyone. When his eyes met Jamie's, he winked and smiled even wider.

Jamie clutched his champagne flute a little tighter and slowly exhaled. He'd been asked out tonight by a few men of his acquaintance but there had been no question in his mind: there was no one he wanted to ring in the New Year with but Ben.

I'm not in love, he thought. He's not my favorite person. He's just…my Benjie.

Their eyes met again and Ben tilted his head a little, curious. Jamie just shook his head and smiled, and started paying attention to Simon's friend again. It was a good chance to brush up on his French.

He almost missed Micah, who stepped uncertainly into the flat and looked around, pushing his thick glasses up his nose. His shaggy bowl haircut had been trimmed into something spiky and stylish. He was dressed formally, like the rest of the guests, but his suit was far less rumpled than the last time he'd come to a party, and somehow he looked taller, as if he'd finally learned to stand up straight.

Jamie's breath caught, and even his companion fell silent. Had Micah always been this beautiful? Of course he had, Jamie thought--and he'd been the first one to see it, years ago, when awkward and gawky Micah had walked into the offices of Virtuoso and caught him with those electric blue eyes.

"Qui est ce beau mec?" Simon's friend said, and Jamie said, "Mon ami," and put aside his champagne flute to grab two fresh ones and say hello.

Micah smiled, still uncertainly, when Jamie approached him, and he took a glass from Jamie's hand. "Hi."

"Hi," Jamie said. "Um. Happy New Year." He clinked his glass against Micah's. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Dune said I should. He's never steered me wrong." His eyes met Jamie's and Jamie nodded, rolling the champagne flute between his palms.

"Come with me to the sun room? We need to talk."

Micah nodded too and they threaded through the crowd back to the sun room. On the way Jamie saw Ben, who looked at Micah, looked at Jamie, and then turned away.

Later. He'd explain later.

They went out onto the balcony beyond the sun room, where it was too cold for others to wander across them and interrupt their conversation. Jamie shivered and Micah stepped closer to him to share his body warmth a little.

"So," Micah said.

"So. Look. Um, I'm sure Dune gave you the safe sex lecture already so I'll spare you that."

"Yeah, he did. And so did the nurses at the clinic and the doctor, too." He looked out at the city. "In sex ed they didn't go into detail about much beyond abstinence and True Love Waits, so I thought…" He shrugged. "Now I know better."

Jamie pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to put you into any kind of dangerous situation and I certainly never meant to give you the impression I wasn't looking out for you. I do get tested--every three months or so, just to be safe."

Micah nodded again. "I know."

"Okay." Jamie sighed. "And we all know, don't we, how passion can override sense."

"Yeah." He looked directly at Jamie. "Jamie, I'm--I'm so sorry--I never--you have no idea how much I miss you."

Jamie watched him and said nothing.

"I mean, couldn't we--we used to talk so much. And you used to give me piggyback rides and we'd race the chairs down the hall and you taught me to juggle and we used to laugh until we couldn't breathe. Ryan--Ryan writes poetry and talks about his soul." He paused, swallowed hard. "Couldn't we be friends again, Jamie? Couldn't we just do that?"

"I don't know," Jamie said, completely serious. "You really hurt me, Micah. But you're young, and that's what you do when you're young: you make mistakes and you learn from them."

"I love Ryan," Micah said. He looked out at the city again. "I do. But he's not you."

"No one else is, mate." He hesitated, then put his hand on the back of Micah's neck and tugged him close enough to lightly kiss his lips. "Maybe we can be friends again, but not yet." He let Micah go.

Micah nodded, his head low. He coughed a little. "I'm going to find Dunie. See you later, 'kay?"

"'Kay," Jamie said and sipped his champagne in contemplation once he was alone.

He was not alone for long--was not surprised to be joined by Ben, who leaned against the wall in companionable silence and lit up a cigarette. He offered it to Jamie, who shook his head, and smoked in silence as Jamie drank.

"So," Ben said when the cigarette was halfway gone, "are you and the kid together again?"

"No."

Ben was skeptical. "Really? You don't want him anymore?"

Jamie sighed. "I may never stop wanting him. How could I not? Someone that fresh and lovely. But I'm over the wanting."

"Over it," Ben repeated softly.

"Over it. Done." He brushed his hands down the front of his suit and then wiped them on each other. "Done."

"Hmm," was Ben's thoughtful reply. He crushed the cigarette out under his heel and held out his hand. "Can I have a sip?"

"Sure." He gave Ben the glass and watched Ben drink what little remained of the champagne, standing close enough to him to feel the heat of his skin and catch the lingering scent of tobacco. He took Ben's hand and pulled his arm around his shoulders so he could lean against Ben's chest. Ben chuckled and moved his fingers into Jamie's hair, kissing the top of his head. He tilted Jamie's face up and kissed him, his mouth smoky from the cigarette and cool from the night air.

Jamie slid his arms under Ben's jacket, relishing his warm, strong body, kissing him as hard and deep as he could. He barely registered Ben dropping the champagne glass because as soon as he did Ben hitched him up against his body, tilting his head further back as the kiss grew even more heated.

It was cold out but Jamie didn't care, hardly noticed--he had Ben, his lovely Ben, Ben in his arms and growing hard against him and breathing in his breath. Their tongues played and his hands clutched at Ben's back and it was all he could do to keep from moaning out loud, sure it would rise above the sounds of the party and the firecrackers popping in the street below.

Ben broke the kiss and thumbed Jamie's cheekbone, and Jamie opened his eyes. They smiled at each other, a light in Ben's amber eyes, and he kissed Jamie's forehead. He whispered, "Do you trust me?"

Jamie swallowed and nodded. "You know I do."

Ben kissed him, inhaling, and pushed him against the wall of the sun room. Ben whispered Jamie's name and unknotted his tie, pulled it from his collar and tied it over Jamie's eyes. Jamie's breath shuddered. He almost said stop but Ben was kissing him and unbuttoning his trousers and sliding his palm along Jamie's hip, between his legs, stroking him and chuckling when Jamie moaned.

"Do you trust me?" Ben whispered again and Jamie said, "Yes, yes, fuck me," as he pushed his hands into Ben's hair and pulled Ben's mouth to his.

Ben kissed him, one hand holding Jamie's waist and the other searching in his pockets for his wallet. Jamie heard the tear of a condom wrapper, and Ben pushed Jamie's trousers low on his hips. He lifted Jamie up and Jamie's legs went easily around his waist, arms around his neck. He kissed Ben desperately, grunting at the first press of his cock--the condom was lubricated and they had nothing else, but it was hardly the driest fuck Jamie had ever had. He crossed his ankles behind Ben's back and buried his face in Ben's neck, holding tight to him as Ben thrust with sharp jerks of his hips.

The firecrackers were popping more frequently below, and people were already beginning to sing; some were shushing each other loudly to get ready to count down the year. Someone turned on a television to the tape delay broadcast of the apple dropping in Times Square; there were the sounds of party horns and shouting and the host giving statistics of how many people, how cold it was, how many lights made up the apple.

The entire party, all of Times Square, people in neighboring buildings, all counted down: "Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Ben licked Jamie's neck, sucked on his ear, whispered his name again. His fingers flexed into Jamie's skin.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

Jamie leaned his head against Ben's shoulder and inhaled the scent of him, eyes squeezed shut beneath the blindfold.

"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

Ben tilted his head down and kissed Jamie sweetly, holding his face in one hand. Jamie held onto his wrist, not wanting him to let go. Even as he shuddered and Ben's movements came to a stop, he didn't let go.

They leaned their foreheads together. Inside people were laughing and kissing and wishing each other Happy New Year, and Jamie thought, My resolution is to get more of this, all year long.

Chapter Fourteen

Some things never changed: among them, Tristan's do-it-yourself projects. During their marriage she had made curtains and clothes, refinished furniture and even taught herself to make stained glass because she liked the colors.

Other books

No Price Too High by Jo Ann Ferguson
Firestorm by Kathleen Morgan
Jacques Cousteau by Brad Matsen
Bob Dylan by Greil Marcus
The Games Heroes Play by Joshua Debenedetto