Something Beautiful (24 page)

Micah pulled over one of the lavender-scented pillows and wadded it under his head. The scent was soothing and reminded him of Dune.

***

Dune walked down the hill to a corner coffee shop for Micah's burger. The staff knew him -- he'd been eating there for as long as Leo had lived in the building -- and were surprised when he ordered the burger exactly as Micah had requested it. "It's for Micah," Dune explained, and then had to tell them how he was doing since the operation. Micah had become quite a regular there himself over the past few weeks, it appeared.

Dune ordered a sandwich for himself and French fries enough for both -- no burger was complete without fries -- and while he waited for their meals to be prepared he watched the passers-by through the big front windows.

There was a familiar face in one of the booths: Aidan grinned at him and waved him over, so Dune slid into the opposite side of the booth. "Hi. Are you on your lunch break?"

"Yes. I'll be heading back soon." He spun his plate so that his French fries were in Dune's reach. "Help yourself."

"Thanks." He took one and dipped it in the mound of ketchup on the plate. "It seems like we haven't seen you for a while."

"Well, you know," Aidan said, "we're a little old for group dates, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Though," he added, and Aidan ducked his head and looked at Dune through his lashes, "you'd bring your other girlfriends to movie night all the time."

"That was different." Aidan sucked on his milkshake. "Bringing somebody to movie night is a good way to feel people out, you know? So if a girl could stand you guys for a night, odds were good we could stand each other."

Dune smiled and ate another fry. "Stand us, huh?"

"You know what I mean. You guys are," he paused a moment, searching for the right word, "a lot of humanity. But most of the girls I brought liked you just fine, and Shiloh loves you a lot -- which I bet you knew. Her brother's friends -- why wouldn't she love you? And how is Micah, by the way? I haven't talked to Shiloh yet today."

"I just brought him home from the hospital," said Dune. "He's tired, but he'll be okay."

"That's good. He's a good kid." He picked up his burger and had a bite. Dune ate his fries, looking up when Aidan said, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

Aidan wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "I don't know how your relationships are -- I don't really know a whole lot about your world --"

"It's a lot like yours," Dune said, unable to hold back a smirk. "Just more colorful."

Aidan nodded and rolled his eyes a little. "Yeah, you know what I mean. What I want to know is, have you ever dated anybody with the intention of keeping it light, of just having fun, and then realized it's not light anymore?"

Dune shook his head. "I keep everything light.
 
I don't want to get serious." He snagged a napkin for himself to wipe the salt off his fingers. "This is about Shiloh, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Aidan said. "She's a great girl. She really is. She's smart, she's sweet, she's so nice to people. She's the kind of girl you marry."

"Is that bad?"

Aidan inhaled slowly. "I keep asking myself how badly I want a child bride."

"Wow," Dune said.

"Yeah. Life, huh? I meet the perfect girl and she's seriously just a girl."

"You could wait," Dune said. "She'll be done with college in two years."

Aidan was quiet, placing his silverware on the plate. "Yeah, I could do that. But here's my question: when does it become stupid to keep waiting?"

Dune nodded. "I think that depends on how much you love the girl. If you two are right it's worth the wait."

"Is that why you keep it light?" Aidan said with a pointed look and dropped a few bills on the table. "You don't want to deal with this kind of thing?"

"It's a character flaw," Dune said. "I like easy."

Aidan laughed and slid out of the booth. "I thought I did, too. See you, Dune."

"See you," Dune said and moved back to the counter. Shiloh would be all right if Aidan decided to end their relationship: she was young, and there was plenty of time for her to find the right person.

While you're still recovering from the relationship that ended when you were twenty-one,
he thought, and sighed.

Dune felt no surprise -- only had a moment of speak of the devil -- when Gavin came through the front door as Aidan went out, glancing up at the jingling bell above the door as he entered the coffee shop. Dune doubted it was coincidence, either: if Gavin was getting obsessive enough to camp out in front of Leo's building and wait for him to show up, Dune thought, he'd just have to deal with it.

"Gavin," he said as pleasantly as he could when Gavin took the stool beside him.

"Dune. I never would have imagined you in a place like this."

"Why not? The food's good."

Gavin raised an eyebrow at a passing tray loaded with fried mozzarella sticks and cheesecake and whipped-cream-topped milkshakes. "If you say so."

"Please don't insult my friends," Dune said, still keeping his voice pleasant.

"Your soft heart," said Gavin with a shake of his head. "Where have you been all week? Babysitting?"

"Micah had to have his appendix removed. I've been at the hospital most of the time."

"Poor kid. So you were babysitting."

"Somebody has to look after him." Dune turned on the stool so he was facing the kitchen.

"I thought he has parents for that."

"His parents are busy people." And they really didn't help him relax, either.

Gavin tapped his fingertips on the counter. "Who's going to do that when you get bored of him?"

Dune exhaled slowly. "I'm not going to get bored of him."

"Is that so?" His voice dripped mock concern. "Are you telling me I'm no longer the love of your life, Dune?"

Dune wished he had something to do with his hands. Only Gavin made him want to fidget. "I'm telling you I'm not going to get bored of Micah," he said, and hated the smile that brought to Gavin's face, smug and triumphant.

Gavin leaned close, putting his hand on Dune's knee, and said in a low voice, "Look me in the eye and say you don't love me anymore, and I'll leave you alone."

Dune breathed a little harder and scowled. "This isn't about love. It's about trust. I don't trust you."

"You don't have to have trust to fuck," said Gavin, and the waitress behind the counter visibly flinched as she placed a paper bag in front of Dune.

"Here's your food," she said, and Dune gave her a twenty.

"Keep the change," he said, and then turning to Gavin said, "Leave us alone," and left, tucking the bag under his arm.

Once Dune was in the elevator of Leo's building he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, willing himself to stop shaking. The love of his life -- he'd thought so, once. He'd believed it. But shouldn't the love of your life be the one who stayed?

Some of us get a love of our lives,
he thought as he let himself into Micah's apartment.
And some of us don't. Some of us make do with friendship and are grateful we get that.

"Micah!" he called. "I have dinner for you!"

More than grateful,
he thought as Micah came out of the bedroom with a cry of, "Food! Greasy delicious food! Oh, thank you, Dunie!"
You could even called it blessed.

Chapter Fourteen

The weather grew colder, the fog thicker, the days shorter. Dune's Halloween party was a success: even Micah attended, though he spent most of the party on the sofa with his feet up. He wore a brown shirt and pants with black felt circles randomly pinned to them and said he was a couch potato.

Micah went back to work after a month, though his surgeon had recommended six weeks of rest; but he was going spare with boredom, and even half days in IT were better than sitting at home any more.

"Don't you ever get bored with this?" Dune said on day near the end of November, watching Micah toss crumpled paper into the trash can through a mini basketball hoop. "Isn't it really simple after video games?"

"Well, it's not as challenging, but it's not simple. No matter how many memos we send out about not opening attachments, I still have to track down five viruses a day, for example."

"I will never open an attachment again," Dune said, feeling guilty that he ever had.

"Thank you. That's one. Seventy-eight more to go." He leaned back in his chair and propped up his feet on his CPU.

"Tired already?" Dune said sympathetically.

"Yeah. Post-surgery sucks."

"It takes a whole year to fully recover, I've heard."

Micah made a face. "Great. A whole year of feeling like hell."

"It'll get better. Just slowly."

It was hard not to think of Micah as fragile, which Dune knew he hated; but once he'd carried Micah in his arms because he was too weak to walk it seemed inevitable. Micah had fallen asleep in Dune's bed after the Halloween party, and Dune hadn't felt a thing about it aside from protective.

This worried him more than he cared to admit -- Micah expected their relationship to pick up where it had been once he was strong enough for sex again, and Dune wondered if it would. How would he explain it to Micah if he didn't want him anymore?

For Thanksgiving weekend, Ben and Jamie took Dune, Micah and Leo to a cabin in the Sierras for snow boarding and Thanksgiving dinner. Adam was invited as well, but stayed behind, saying he had a deadline to meet.

Micah still wasn't strong enough for sports: a tramp through the snowy woods the night they arrived was the most he could handle and he fell asleep on the sofa in front of the fire right after, forgetting to even take off his boots. Dune untied them and took them off for him and sat for a while, stroking his back.

"How's he doing?" Leo said softly, leaning over the sofa. His cheeks were red from being out in the cold.

"Sleeping like a baby," Dune said. He looked up at his father. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I've needed to get out of the city."

Dune watched the fire in silence a few moments. "Dad, when we get back to the city I have to say something to Adam."

"No, you don't have to." Leo came round the sofa and sat at Dune's side, his hands limp between his knees.

"Yes, I do. This is ridiculous. He's staying behind because of a deadline? Could a lie be anymore transparent?"

"Dune, we've talked about this."

"And we'll talk more. I can't just stand by and watch you be miserable. I have to say something -- I have to --"

"You don't need to say anything to him. I've said it already."

Dune stared at him a moment. "Dad?"

Leo smiled wearily. "Adam and I...had a talk last night. I said some things, he said some things..." He sighed. "He says he's in love with the guy. Can you believe it? Nearly thirty years together and he says he's in love with someone else."

"Dad," Dune said again, much more softly this time, and he started rubbing Leo's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Dunie. I'm making peace with it. Some people can't do monogamy. Adam's one of them, and I have to acknowledge that."

"And this new guy? Have you met him? Do you know him?"

Leo shrugged. "I didn't ask for details. Anyway, Adam won't be in the apartment when we get home."

"I'm sorry," Dune said. "Dad, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I've been complacent. It's time I stop." He stared at the fire, and Dune rubbed his shoulder.

"Do I get to start fixing you up?"

Leo glanced at him over his shoulder in horror. "Good Lord, no."

"I know some great guys, Dad. Unattached, cute and very nice."

"Again," Leo said dryly, "good Lord, no." He got to his feet and kissed the top of Dune's head. "This calls for cocoa." He left for the kitchen.