Something Beautiful (29 page)

Micah leaned his head against the frosty glass. "I don't think we should sleep together anymore," he said quietly, and Dune inhaled to keep himself from protesting. "It just hurts too much."

"That was never my intention," Dune said.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about the road to hell." A beat passed, and Micah said, in a voice that was struggling to stay steady, "You see, the thing is, I love you, Dune. And you don't trust me and you don't need me the way I want you to."

Dune closed his eyes, aching for him. "And how do you want me to, Micah?"

Micah turned away from the window, his face pale. "If you don't know that, Dune, then I don't know how to tell you."

His face was naked, honest, raw -- and Dune felt like a hypocrite, like a coward. If he said the truth --
I do need you
-- he thought he would fall apart. He didn't think Micah would know how to pick up the pieces.

So he said nothing.

Micah watched him a moment longer and then turned back to the window. "I'll get my stuff out of your room before bedtime."

"You don't need to do that."

"Yes, I do. And I'm not going to sleep with Stuart, either, if that's what you're thinking."

"It wasn't." It was now, of course.

"Right," Micah muttered.

Micah's eyes were beautiful, such a rare, perfect blue -- but they could be spooky, too, like they were seeing right into him, seeing past facades and into the most private parts of himself. Dune looked away with a weird, superstitious feeling that it was the only way he'd keep his soul to himself. He said, "I just want you to be happy, you know."

"I know. I've been getting that a lot, lately." Micah scowled. "Usually when people think they know what's best for me more than I do."

"If he makes you happy --"

"Oh, for God's sake, Dune! I'm in love with you. And I know it's hopeless and I know you don't want it but there it is." He turned back to the window, leaning his forehead against the glass.

Dune winced again and rubbed his hand across his face. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" he said finally.

"Yes, please. I'm not going to bug you or anything," Micah added. "So you can enjoy the rest of the weekend."

How do you think I'm going to do that?
Dune thought, but just nodded and went downstairs.

Leo and Stuart were talking in front of the fire in quiet voices and stopped when he joined them. "How is he?" Leo said.

"Tired," Dune said, afraid that if he said any more it would all come spilling out. "He's very tired."

"And you?" Leo touched his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he said, knowing the words were meaningless. "I'm just fine."

***

I've had worse weekends,
Dune thought on the drive home,
but not much.
The weather had been fine, clear and cold; the snow had been perfect, powdery and crisp; the snowboard trails had not been terribly crowded, and even Stuart said the skiing was satisfactory. There was just Micah, pale and quiet and present as a ghost.

Dune's bed had been far too cold. He thought one night he should just get into bed with Micah and let things develop however they would -- but that wasn't fair. He didn't want to ever see that look in Micah's eyes again, that "it just hurts too much" despair.

I did that,
he thought.
I thought I was doing everything right and instead I did everything wrong.

Micah had chosen to ride back to San Francisco with Stuart rather than in Jamie's Jeep, and Dune thought he would finally relax on the drive back. His father, his best friend, his best friend's lover -- he was safe here, he was loved. But even being with them, listening to Jamie and Ben talk and joke, being near his father -- that didn't stop him from missing Micah.

Being in his loft didn't help, either. There was too much of Micah there: the T-shirts tossed in Dune's laundry hamper, the forgotten shoes under the bed, the CDs left beside Dune's stereo -- homemade, of course, with Micah's characteristic scrawl across them that read, "Mix for Dune" and the date, and had songs that would have told Dune Micah loved him if only he'd listened to them closely enough.

It can't be over,
Dune thought, but knew that it was.

Someone knocked on the door as he was unpacking, and when Dune opened it he was not surprised to see Gavin. "Hi," Gavin said, leaning against the door frame. "Where have you been all weekend?"

"I went snowboarding with some friends." He sighed, but let Gavin in.

"Oh," Gavin drawled. "Good friends?"

"Very. And my father."

"And how is he doing? His delivery on the radio is so dry it's hard to tell what sort of day he's having."

"That's called 'professionalism,'" Dune said and went back into his bedroom to continue unpacking, knowing that Gavin would follow. "Like your journalistic detachment."

"It's only music," said Gavin as he flopped comfortably onto Dune's bed.

"Blasphemy." He threw a sweater onto Gavin's face. "There's nothing 'only' about music."

Gavin pulled the sweater off, grinning at him. "Did the kid come with you? I suppose not, since he's still recovering from surgery."

"He did. He just didn't snowboard." Dune turned away to put his boots in the closet.

"That must not have been any fun for him."

"I think he had a good time."
Until, you know,
Dune thought,
I drop-kicked his heart.
"You can probably ask to see his pictures at work tomorrow."

"I'll do that." He sat up to fold Dune's sweater and put it neatly on the coverlet. "So."

"Yes?" Dune put the sweater in the closet, too. He'd do a load of dry-cleaning later, he decided.

"Did you miss me?"

"Every second," Dune said dryly. He'd hardly thought about Gavin at all, really.

"I'm touched." Also dry. "Where is your little paramour?"

"Home, I assume. Did you want something, Gavin?"

"I just missed you," Gavin said with a shrug. "I had a boring holiday and I was hoping you'd be around to make it better."

"Sorry," said Dune, sighing. "Why was it boring?"

"Too many breeders, not enough Dune."

"I like Laird and Tristan," Dune said. "They're good people."

"Tristan was much more interesting before she started gestating. Now it's baby this and baby that. Six billion people in the world and they think their baby is worth getting excited over?" He shuddered dramatically.

Dune picked up his hamper to carry it to the laundry nook. "I wouldn't mind a kid or two," he said.

"You've already got Mitchell."

"Micah."

"Michael," Gavin said, standing in front of him and taking hold of the hamper too.

"Micah," Dune repeated. "Let go, please."

"Why did you let me in? You haven't even said 'leave me alone' yet."

Dune tried to pull the hamper out of Gavin's grip, but Gavin was holding fast and smiling that maddening smile. "I don't know," Dune said finally, putting the hamper down. "I wanted somebody to talk to that I didn't spend the last four days with, I suppose."

"And there I was."

"There you were. Like usual. I can't get rid of you."

Gavin gave Dune a sleepy, slow look. "I think you missed me as much as I missed you. Stop fighting it, Dune. Curse me out all you want, tell me to go, whatever you feel you have to do -- but you can't change the fact that I'm under your skin."

"Stop it."

"You don't want me to," Gavin said, and in a moment he had his arms around Dune's waist and his mouth on Dune's mouth.

Dune froze, assaulted by memory -- how it had felt to be eighteen and learning about passion and intimacy from this man. How it had felt to be his, to be in love for the first time.

And how it had felt to have that love kicked into submission, all the hope and joy and optimism beaten out of it, until there was nothing left but pain.

He pulled away. "Gavin --"

"Give me a chance," Gavin said, still holding him, lips a breath apart. "I've changed, Dune. I swear. Give me a chance."

"I don't trust you."

"You will," Gavin said and kissed him again, lips familiar and longed-for, and Dune thought,
Just this once,
and kissed him back.

Chapter Seventeen

Something weird is going on,
Micah thought at work on Monday. Gavin stopped by his cubicle -- usually reporters only came to IT when they had an impossible idea about the Internet or their computers had stopped working, and oh Lord, how "operator error" made them blush and bluster -- to ask about the ski trip and said, "Dune said you took some good pictures; could I see?"

"I'll have them uploaded tonight," Micah said. "I'll send you the URL later."

"Okay," Gavin said and ambled away. And that was that. No innuendos, no calling him "kid" -- but there was still something off.

Gavin was gloating, Micah realized. Obviously he'd already talked to Dune -- Dune must have told him something, probably about Stuart and their argument, and now Gavin thought he had a chance of getting Dune back.

Smug bastard,
Micah thought, shaking his head. Dune was smarter than that.

But he still worried, and when Dune didn't call or email him once during the day, the worry grew stronger. Micah tried calling Dune at home, but he must have been screening because all Micah got was the answering machine.

After work Micah drove to Russian Hill, took the stairs up to Dune's loft, and knocked rapidly on the door.
I'm just checking on him,
he thought.
Gavin gives me the willies, but it's probably nothing.

The door opened. Dune was shirtless, his trousers open, an unmistakable erection straining against his shorts, and he said incredulously, "Micah? What are you doing here?"

Micah swallowed and looked past Dune to see Gavin lounging on the sofa, all of his clothes gone. "Nothing," Micah said. "Nothing." He turned and fled down the stairs.

He was halfway to his car when he heard running behind him and Dune grabbed his arm. He'd put on a jacket to hide his boner, at least, but Micah still didn't want to look into his eyes. "Micah, it's not what it looks like."

"It's exactly what it looks like. How could it be anything else?"

"It's not -- it's not --"

Micah crossed his arms and looked at Dune. "You have the love of your life back," he said quietly. "Congratulations. I hope you're very happy together."

"Micah --" He took hold of Micah's shoulder.

Micah shook off Dune's hand. "I guess I can give up on us even staying friends. At least this time it's not entirely my fault." He beeped the alarm on his car and slid into the driver's seat. He could still see Dune in the rear view mirror as he drove away, standing on the sidewalk as if still trying to find the words.

Micah started to go home, but swung the car abruptly into another lane -- earning more than a few honks, but he figured he had the good driving karma stored up to make mistakes like this sometimes -- to head to the UCSF campus. He needed to see Shiloh. He needed family, and Shiloh knew Dune.

He had no idea if she had classes or was working tonight, so he called her dorm room as he waited at a stop light. "Yes, come over, come over," Shiloh said in a worried voice. "Just come on up. I'm in all night tonight."

It was so good to see her that when Shiloh opened the door Micah just hugged her for several moments. He couldn't imagine being an only child, not having someone around who'd known you all your life and loved you no matter what.

"So, what's going on?" she said, pulling him into her room. She reached over to turn off the stereo -- playing some chick with guitar music -- and sat cross-legged on the bed.

"I have to tell you something," he said, taking off his sneakers so he wouldn't get her coverlet dirty, and got comfortable. It occurred to him she might not let him stay long once she knew. He swallowed.