Chiaroscuro (3 page)

"All the way out to Walnut Creek? Thanks, Jamie! You're the best."

"No problem," he dismissed it. "In fact if you're ready to go I am, too. You are, aren't you, Dunie?"

"I am." He stood and stretched. "Great wedding, Jamie. We should do this more often."

"Do you want to say goodbye to anybody?" Jamie said to Micah.

"Just Jim and Carla. Come with me?"

"Sure. We'll just be a minute," he said to Dune, who nodded and leaned on a chair to wait for them.

The bride and groom were dancing, but stopped when Jamie and Micah approached. "Oh, leaving already?" Carla exclaimed, but hugged Micah tight again. "Thank you for coming, honey."

"Of course," Micah said, blushing. "Congratulations again."

Jamie shook Jim's hand. "Congratulations," and gave Carla a kiss on the cheek. "You look beautiful," he said to her, and she laughed.

"Thank you. Take care. See you in a week." She patted his cheek, gave a significant look to Micah, and went back into her husband's arms.

Dune joined them on the way out, looping his arm around Jamie's neck. "So we're taking Micah home first?"

"You don't mind the extra trip, do you?"

"I don't mind." He looped his other arm around Micah's neck, who stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, almost leaning into Dune as if he needed the support. "I think it's an excellent night for a drive."

***

The Ferguson’s big hilltop house was dark when Jamie pulled into the drive, and Micah made no move to get out. "Are you going to be all right, alone all week?" Jamie asked him.

"Sure, of course. I've stayed there alone before." He paused. "Of course, I usually spend half the night jerking awake because I'm sure I've heard a noise downstairs."

Jamie turned off the engine. "You should stay with me."

Dune made a soft sound in his throat and looked out the window.

"Really? You're okay with that? I won't be in the way?"

"You won't be in the way."

"Cool! Thanks, Jamie! I'll go pack a bag. I'll be real fast." Micah scrambled out of the car and ran up the terraced front steps to the house.

Dune sighed and his fingers tapped on his knee a moment. "Well."

"No lectures, please."

"I wouldn't dream of lecturing you. Getting your crush alone with you for a week is a fantasy come true."

"I'm not planning anything untoward. No porn and dildos."

"No, no, of course not." He tapped his fingers on his knee again.

"I'm not going to play nonstop disco and dress only in mesh."

"Oh, no, because that would be weird."

"He can stay locked up in the guest room playing Everquest for the whole week if that's what he wants."

"Yes, you're not a dirty old man at all."

Jamie winced. "You think it's a bad idea."

"I think...I think house parties can be a lot of fun. Just don't do anything stupid," he said gently. "Don't rush."

"I will not rush. I'll look after him, keep him fed--he loves microwavable s'mores. I'll stock up on those. But nothing to scare him. Nothing at all."

Dune sighed, but before he could say more the back door opened again and Micah tossed in his duffel bag, his computer bag slung across his chest. "I'm ready," he chirped, and then picked up on the tension in the front seat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jamie said, turning on the car engine again. "Nothing's wrong."

***

Jamie took Dune to his apartment in Russian Hill and then drove to his own house in Pacific Heights. It was his personal opinion that he had the best view in the city: her streets, the jewel-like houses, where the ocean met the sky.

"Oh, Jamie," Micah said. "Your place is nice."

"Yeah, I like it." He grinned at Micah. "If all these layoff rumors are true I don't know how long I'll get to keep it."

"I hope they don't come true. Especially for you."

"Thanks." He parked his car and got out. "I don't have much furniture. I've no time for shopping."

"You're not kidding," Micah said when they were inside, his gaze taking in the elegant, empty rooms. Jamie had hung his own artwork here and there, but the downstairs, at least, was as bare as the day he'd moved in.

Upstairs was somewhat better: he had a bedroom, a studio, and a guest room with a futon and a battered chest of drawers--remnants from his first year in America and his tiny little flat in the Mission District.

"This will be yours," he said. "I'm sure it's not as nice as your room at home--"

"It's fine, Jamie." Micah perched on the futon to gage the softness of the cushion. "I sleep like a log when I'm comfortable."

"Then you should be fine. And I'm just here in case you need anything--bedtime story, glass of water."

Micah threw a pillow at him, but he was smiling, not offended. "If I have nightmares, I may come crawling to your bed."

"I'll remember to wear PJs tonight, then."

"Ew, Jamie! You sleep naked? Not when you have company!"

"Most of the time when I have company they prefer it that way," Jamie said mildly and caught the second pillow that Micah threw at him.

***

Jamie got ready for bed and left his bedroom door open, calling to Micah when he turned out the light. "Sleep well."

"You too," Micah called back. "Hey. Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have naked company a lot?"

Jamie laughed, surprised at the question. "Not as much as I'd like. Why?"

"Just wondering. 'Cause. I don't know. I'd always thought you dated a lot."

"Not a lot, no. I don't know many people outside of work."

"How'd you meet Dune?"

"At a bar. He thought I was cute, I thought he was cute, so we hooked up, and discovered later we liked each other so we stayed friends."

He heard the futon frame creak, and wasn't surprised to see Micah in his doorway a moment later. "Easier than yelling up and down the hall," Micah said. "If it's okay."

"Of course it's okay." He moved over to give Micah room, and the boy lay down on his side, resting his head on his arm.

"More like a real sleepover this way." Micah yawned.

"Mm."

After a moment Micah said, "What was your boyfriend like? The one with the house in Paris."

Jamie exhaled slowly. "Older than me. Smart. Urbane. Handsome."

"He sounds nice."

Jamie bit his lip. "No. He wasn't nice."

"He wasn't?" Micah leaned on his elbow.

"I didn't find that out until later. It was great, during. The ending sucked."

"The ending of most things sucks."

Jamie smiled in the dark. "You are very astute, wee Micah."

The boy was silent for a few minutes, and then said in a hurt tone, "You're making fun of me."

"I never! I tease you gently."

"Is that what you call it?" Micah said, and Jamie lifted his head to look at him.

"What would you call it, then?"

He sighed and sat up. "Never mind. I should leave you alone so you can sleep."

"You can stay if you want. I don't mind."

Micah didn't speak at first, his body slight and vulnerable in his t-shirt and flannel pants, his head bowed, and he said in a low voice, "I just wish you'd take me seriously. You never take me seriously."

Jamie sat up too and wrapped his arms around his knees. "Micah. I take you with great seriousness." Micah snorted. Jamie paused, choosing his words. "I tease you, maybe, as a defense. If I were serious around you all the time it wouldn't be as much fun, for one thing. And for another--" He inhaled, bit his lip, soldiered on. "For another, I'd probably say things you'd rather not hear."

Micah went still and whispered, "Like what?"

"Well. For one. Um. How beautiful your skin is in the moonlight. And how much I wish you'd wear contact lenses so your eyes aren't hidden by your glasses all the time. And--and how much--right now--I'd really like to touch you."

It seemed to Jamie that Micah wasn't even breathing. He had no idea if this was a good thing or bad. He went on briskly, "But that's not the kind of thing you're supposed to say to your co-workers, even if you're not in my department, so I'll keep saying things like 'You need to brush your hair, wee Micah,' and 'What were you thinking, wearing a navy tie with a pink striped shirt, you looked like a carnival barker.'"

Micah's head turned just a little, and asked quietly, "You want to touch me?"

Jamie whispered, "Very much."

There was silence for a moment.

The boy tackled him. Friendly wrestling was not unheard of between the two of them and for a moment Jamie expected it would be more of that--and then Micah's mouth landed on his, warm lips and a shy tongue, and Jamie forgot about mere friendship.

Chapter Two

They kissed each other frantically, Micah making small whimpering moans in his throat, and Jamie's hands slid over his ribs and under his shirt. Micah's heart beat in quadruple time, and it seemed to Jamie that it skipped a beat when Jamie's thumb passed over his nipple. His thumb circled Micah's nipple and the boy shuddered and lifted himself, panting.

Jamie opened his eyes and licked his lips, feeling cold without the weight of Micah's body. "Is that okay?" Micah said. "You're shaking."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Micah--um--"

"When you kissed me at Christmas," Micah said, "I--I liked it. I've been wanting to do it again."

Jamie nodded again. "I have, too."

Micah licked his lips and his eyes dropped to Jamie's mouth. "I've kissed a couple girls. Not many. I never dated much in high school. But it wasn't ever--it never felt special."

"And this?" He clung to Micah's slender waist. "This feels special?"

"Yeah." Gingerly he lowered his body onto Jamie's, lying completely on top of him. "I think it does." He put his arms around Jamie's neck, nudged Jamie's mouth with his lips, whispered, "Don't you?" and kissed him again.

Oh, yes, Jamie thought and opened his mouth, his legs going around Micah's hips. Special. He'd not been celibate since coming to America, and his relationships, such as they were, were rarely about tenderness. This was different--special, as Micah had said; not about getting off in a fast fuck, but about unexpectedly soft lips and a sweet tongue and a slender body pressed against his, pale as porcelain in the moonlight streaming through the window.

They kissed each other slowly, pulling back to tease each other with baby kisses, leaning in for kisses deep and wet. Micah laughed when Jamie licked the tip of his nose, a true hearty laugh instead of his usual nervous giggle, and his fingers skimmed over Jamie's body with more and more confidence the longer they kissed. Jamie had no kind of shyness: he moved his hands to Micah's ass, to knead and fondle the taut flesh. Micah stiffened for a moment, and then deepened the kiss, holding Jamie around his neck and his kisses longer and hotter.

Jamie kissed him back for a few moments more, then said, "Micah--Micah--"

"Jamie," he whispered and smiled at him.

"Listen to me," Jamie said. "It's time to stop."

"Why?"

"Because you're not ready to go on."

Micah frowned and his knees gripped Jamie's hips. "Why?" He added when Jamie opened his mouth to speak, "If you say I'm just a kid I'll hit you."

"That doesn't make you any less of a kid."

Micah socked him in the chest. He rolled off the bed and stomped down the hall to the guest room, slamming the door behind him.

"Oi, Micah" Jamie said and followed him. He rapped on the door with his knuckles and then opened it anyway. Micah glared at him from the futon. "C'mon. Don't be upset."

"You don't want to have sex with me," Micah hissed. "You're laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing at you." Jamie sat beside him, caught his shoulders and kissed him. "I absolutely want to have sex with you. I don't think you're ready, that's all. You've never done this before, yeah?" Micah pouted but nodded. "It's not something you should do spur of the moment, just because you feel like it one night."

"Is that what you did?" Jamie's expression must have been answer enough, because Micah went on, looking straight into his eyes, "I've been thinking about this for months. Since Christmas. I'm like you, Jamie: I want to be with men. I've been thinking about it and wondering and worrying and when you kissed me--when you kissed me I knew. I knew for sure." His gaze darted over Jamie's face. "I'm gay, Jamie."

Jamie cupped the back of his head and leaned their foreheads together, smiling. "I would have been very confused after all that if you weren't."

"Don't make fun of me! This isn't easy! I've been practicing saying that."

"You said it perfectly."

Micah looked at him as if he thought Jamie was still teasing, then took hold of Jamie's hip. "So have sex with me. Please, Jamie. I want it to be you. I don't want it to be anybody but you."

Jamie closed his eyes a moment, touched and aching. His own object of fantasy, hungering for him--his list no longer mattered. There was no reason not to kiss him, touch him, learn him. Teach him.

"Say you will," Micah whispered, his mouth close to Jamie's again. "Say you will, Jamie."

Jamie kissed him. "Come back to bed. This futon creaks too much."

Micah nodded, solemn and shivering a little, and took hold of Jamie's hand. Jamie led him back to his bedroom and they lay down again, the boy still trembling, and Jamie wrapped himself around him, to warm him. "You'll have a good time, Micah."

"I know," he whispered, and lunged into Jamie for another kiss. Jamie held Micah's face in both hands, kissing him until the boy stopped trembling.

Micah started touching him, tips of his fingers over Jamie's shoulders and down his arms, across his collarbones and down his chest. One finger circled Jamie's nipple ring through his pajama top and Micah whispered, "What's this for?"

"For the chain, of course," Jamie murmured, lips moving down Micah's neck.

"Chain?" His voice cracked a little.

Jamie nodded, keeping his face as serious as he could. "You chain me to the bed when you're done with me." He slid down to kiss Micah's chest.

"I'm supposed to--chain you up?"