Something Beautiful (28 page)

"And then tried to get him back."

"Because he missed him." Micah got to his feet. "You don't like him because he sleeps around."

"I don't like him," Dune said patiently, "because he breaks promises."

"Like Adam," Micah said. "Like me."

"It is not about you --"

"No," Micah said. "It is. When it comes down to it, you don't trust me any more than you trust Stuart." Dune didn't answer, and Micah fiddled with the camera to have something to do with his hands.

"Micah," Dune said finally. "I trust you."

"Do you love me?" Micah asked, still looking down at the camera. Stuart looked wonderful in his pictures, casual and strong.
Everybody should have a mentor,
Micah thought.

Dune sighed. "It's not that simple."

"It's okay," Micah said and turned off the camera. "I didn't expect you to."

"It's not that I don't love you, I just --"

"It's okay," Micah repeated and stood. "You love everybody too much to have any left over for just one person. I get it. It's okay. I'm going to lie down for a while. I'm more tired than I thought."

He went first into the room he was sharing with Dune, but thought if Dune came looking for him he might think it meant something it didn't -- so he went into the room he'd given to Stuart instead, the only other one with a made bed, and lay down.

I'm not going to cry,
he thought and dashed away some wetness from his eyes.
So stupid. You know what Dune thinks about cheating, you've known it for years. And you know what he thinks of Stuart.

He wiped his eyes again. It wasn't really so much about Stuart, he supposed. It was just about love -- wanting love, craving love, and never knowing if you really had it even when you thought you might.

Dune would never love him. Dune liked him, Dune lusted for him, but Dune would never love him.

Micah pulled over a pillow and buried his face in it. He didn't scream or sob, but the ache was undeniable and he had to let it out or he would burst.

A hand touched his hair. Micah hunched up a moment, not wanting to acknowledge them, and then slowly pushed himself upright -- and saw it was Leo, who was watching him with concerned eyes. Micah sighed and leaned against Leo, warmed and comforted by Leo's arms around him. He sighed and buried his face in Leo's shoulder.

"I wish you were my dad."

Leo chuckled. "If I was, this thing you've got with Dune would be very strange indeed."

"I don't have anything with Dune. He doesn't love me."

"You think so, sweetheart?" Leo said quietly and kissed his temple.

Micah nodded. "I know so."

"Why do you think he's so upset that Stuart's here?" Leo asked gently.

"Because he doesn't like Stuart."

"And why do you think he doesn't like Stuart?"

"Because he hurt Jamie." Micah swallowed hard. "And Dune is Jamie's best friend."

"And you don't suppose it has anything to do with you going to Stuart after Lucas left you rather than coming home or calling one of us to join you."

"I couldn't ask people to drop everything just to look after me."

"Micah," Leo said. "Dune would have gone the moment you said you needed him. Don't you think he was a bit hurt that you didn't? At a time when you needed your friends around, you went to somebody you barely knew."

"I got to know him," Micah mumbled.

"Well, that's the crux of it, isn't it? And now suddenly Stuart's here and you've put him in your room --"

"I took my stuff into Dune's room this morning."

"Ah," Leo said.

"I mean, we slept together last night, I figured -- I figured a lot of things. None of them right, it looks like."

Leo kissed his forehead. "Why don't you go downstairs and talk to Dune?" he said gently. "Tell him about what you figured." When Micah only hung his head and sniffled, Leo said, "I know my son, and I know you are very important to him."

Micah sniffled. "I should go make up a bed for myself, I think."

"Micah, it's not hopeless."

"It doesn't feel terribly hopeful right now, either." He wiped his nose with his sleeve, and Leo winced. "Sorry. There's still sheets in the linen closet, right?"

"I think so. Micah, don't give up on happiness. I saw you two this morning -- hell, I've seen the two of you the entire time you've been friends. And you make each other happy."

"Not happy enough," Micah said, so sad he could hardly stand it, and went in search of the linen closet.

***

Dinner was perfect, of course -- Ben knew what he was doing. They all ate too much, drank a lot of wine, said, "No, no, I'm stuffed," to pie and then ate some anyway. The sun was long set when they finally left the table, put the dishwasher into its third or fourth cycle that day, and nibbled at the last of the pie and mashed potatoes.

Jamie had stories for all occasions and told them well, so he did most of the talking. Ben and Leo both preferred to listen, particularly when Jamie and Stuart starting catching up on old friends, and Dune could think of nothing to contribute. He watched Micah instead, who seemed more interested in the wine than the turkey and baked apples.

When Micah poured himself another glass, Dune said, "How much of that have you had?"

"Not enough," Micah said, and drank it in a gulp.

Stuart, sitting at Micah's side, gently touched his arm. "You're going to have a terrible headache tomorrow if you keep this up."

"Good," Micah said tonelessly. "That's what I want. A terrible headache."

"Okay," said Ben, getting to his feet, "I've had about enough of this. Whatever bullshit is going on, we're going to walk it off. C'mon, kiddo, into your snow boots."

"Why? I don't want to go for a walk."

"Because you need to sober up and you're going whether you want to or not. Up." Ben hooked an arm around Micah's chest and hauled him to his feet. Micah's wine sloshed onto Ben's shirt.

Ben looked down, sighed, said, "Okay," and carried Micah out the back door.

"Ben," Jamie said, getting up to follow him, and then the back door slammed shut -- opening only long enough for Jamie to say, "Don't wait up," to the others.

Silence fell heavily around the table.

"I'm not sure what just happened," Stuart said at last.

"Tough love," said Leo, and then bapped Dune on the back of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Dune said, rubbing the back of his head.

"More tough love. I'm taking Micah his coat. He doesn't need pneumonia on top of everything else. Talk to Stuart," he said pointedly to Dune and his eyes flicked to Stuart a moment. He left to get Micah's things and returned to follow the others out the back door.

Dune frowned and sipped his own wine.

Stuart said, "Is there any apple pie left? That was very good."

Dune passed him the plate with the last of the apple pie and the bowl of fresh whipped cream, also mostly gone. Stuart spooned some whipped cream onto the pie and ate a few bites.

"So," he said, "what is it that we need to discuss?"

Dune swallowed hard and decided to just go for the jugular: "Did you sleep with Micah while he was staying with you in France?"

"Yes," Stuart said.

Dune hadn't expected him to be so blunt -- or so honest. "Right."

Stuart put down his fork and said seriously, "He is a very beautiful young man, but you don't need me to tell you that. He's a very intelligent young man, but you don't need me to tell you that, either. He's a very lost young man, but I think no one knows that better than you, as you've done so much to help him find his way. I was a friend when he needed one, Dune. That's all."

Dune looked away. "Oh."

"You have no reason to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I'm just looking out for him. He's been hurt enough -- he doesn't need somebody like you in his life, messing with his head."

Stuart leaned back in his chair, regarding Dune steadily. "I don't think I'm the one messing with his head tonight."

Dune frowned at his hands.

"Do you care for the boy?" Stuart asked quietly.

"Of course I do."

"Then listen to what he's saying to you."

"He put you in his room," Dune said, though he knew it was a weak point now.

"He put me in an empty room because he wants to be with you. Or did, anyway. If he'd rather be with me tonight --" Dune looked at him sharply, and Stuart smiled in triumph. "That's what I thought."

Dune scowled.
He doesn't understand anything,
he thought, but there was a niggling thought that maybe Stuart understood everything a lot better than he did.

"If he'd rather be with you tonight I'm not going to stand in his way," he said out loud.

"If he'd rather be with me tonight I don't blame him." He took the empty plate to the sink and ran some water to wash the last few dishes. "You're not being very nice to him." He paused. "He took a picture of you this morning, while you were sleeping, it looked like. It was very tender. You should ask him to show you."
 

Dune closed his eyes and remembered Micah's lips against his neck, the soft "I like you more" -- Micah moaning in his arms -- Micah throwing both arms around him and squeezing him tight --

"I'll do better," he said softly.

"Good," Stuart said. "I'll wash, you dry."

***

Ben brought Micah back before the dishes were done. Micah was wrapped in his coat, looking sulky but subdued, and went straight upstairs without a word to anyone. Ben sat at the kitchen table and watched them wash up, and when Jamie and Leo came back into the cabin a few minutes later Jamie draped himself over Ben's shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"He'll be fine," he said softly.

"Yeah. Christ, you're not kidding when you call him high-strung, Dunie."

"I know," Dune said quietly and hung up the dish towel. Leo had gone into the living room and was stretched out in front of the fireplace, and Dune was not surprised when Stuart joined him. "Should I go talk to him, do you think? Or leave him alone?"

"Talk to him," said Jamie, and Ben said, "Leave him alone." They looked at each other, and Ben leaned his forehead against Jamie's and closed his eyes.

"He's tired of fighting," Jamie said to Dune. "I think your next step is up to you."

"I don't want to fight either," said Dune, and went up the stairs to look for Micah.

He wasn't in any of the bedrooms on the second floor. There was an attic above, with a pair of bunk beds built on either side of the uppermost window, and there Dune found Micah, staring out at the snowy night.

"No more lectures," Micah said when Dune sat on the bed beside him.

"No lectures," Dune said, and put his hand on Micah's back. "What did Ben say to you?"

"Not much. The usual bullshit about being a child."

"I don't think any of us will ever get used to you being an adult."

"Well, you're going to have to." He huddled deeper in his coat. "I'm not a wayward teenager anymore."

"I know. Just give us time."

Micah snorted. Dune let his hand finally drop from Micah’s back, and after a few minutes of silence Micah said, "Dune? Would you have come to France if I'd asked you to?"

"Yes," Dune said without hesitation.

Micah sighed. "I wanted to ask you. But I didn't think you'd come -- you've got so much of your own stuff going on. And -- really, I just wanted somebody who'd be nice to me. No lectures, no analysis. Just sympathy."

Dune winced. "Am I that bad?"

"You like to talk things to death," Micah said, looking at him at last. "And sometimes I wish you'd just listen."

"I'm listening now." He put his hand on Micah's back.