Something Beautiful (35 page)

"Clowns," Micah said, and Dune laughed damply.

"No. Dork. It's finding out that my friends don't actually like me. That everybody I care about just puts up with me because they like looking at me. Sometimes I wish I had a disfiguring scar so I could learn the truth about how people really feel about me."

Micah kissed him. "Dune, Dunie, you are so beautiful. And it wouldn't matter what you look like: you'd still be beautiful. You are so good to people. That's why we like having you around. The prettiness is just a perk." Dune laughed again, quietly, and Micah said, "Gavin tried to take that away from you. He tried to make you believe that what makes you strong wasn't worth anything. And he was wrong, Dunie, he was so wrong."

Dune kissed him hard. "I should have -- I don't know what I should have done. Something other than what I did. I love you."

"I love you, too," Micah said and held him tight. He hesitated a moment before saying, "Dune. Will you do something for me? Will you get help? Please?" Dune started to speak, and Micah said, "We don't want to lose you again."

Dune frowned, kissed him again, and lay down. "I'll think about it," he said with a sigh.

"Okay," Micah said, lying beside him. After a moment he moved his head to rest it on Dune's shoulder, and Dune slowly stroked his back until he fell asleep.

Chapter Twenty

Dune's birthday was in May. He said he didn't want a big party --"Though I guess I wouldn't mind a little party" -- so Micah invited their closest friends and made spaghetti and meatballs, the only dish he was any good at aside from pancakes. He ordered a cake from Ben's bakery and stocked up on red wine, put Dean Martin on the stereo, and told Dune, "Whenever you're ready to kick everybody out, we will."

In theory, Dune was living with Leo. Most of his possessions were in the spare room and the rest were in storage: he'd given up the loft entirely and taken a leave of absence from the paper. But in reality he went to sleep every night at Micah's side, usually spooned against Micah's back. He did the cooking, the cleaning and the laundry, though Micah wished sometimes that he'd come home to find Dune writing instead.

He had relented about therapy, at least, and was seeing a friend of Ocean's twice a week. On those days he was moody and drained and often curled around Micah as soon as he was home. He didn't talk about his sessions, and Micah didn't ask about the bottle of anti-depressants that turned up one day in the medicine cabinet.

He seemed happy enough tonight, though, but who wasn't happy on their birthday. He accepted kisses and gifts with good humor, and when he came into the kitchen to hug Micah it was in gratitude, not for reassurance. "I'm having fun, sweetheart," he said softly and kissed Micah's cheek.

"I'm glad, Dunie," Micah said. "Go play with your friends. This will be ready in a few minutes."

"Looks delicious." He stole a taste of the spaghetti sauce and then went back to the living room, smiling.

They all were feeling nostalgic after they ate, while the ice cream melted on their plates and they nibbled the last of the bread sticks. Frances told about the night Dune was born --"You were almost born in the back yard, I went from zero to fifty so fast --" and Leo told about the time Dune had pneumonia when he was seven. "It was the first time I realized I had this dad thing kind of figured out," he said at the end.

Dune looked puzzled. "I was seven."

"Yes. For the first seven years of your life I felt like I was pretty much just faking it. After that night, though, I felt like being Superdad was within my reach."

"You've always been a good dad," Ocean assured him, and he smiled, pleased.

"I just wish somebody had told me sooner that parenthood is 'learn as you go' for everybody," he said. "Then it wouldn't have taken Dunie almost dying for me to realize it."

Jamie leaned his head on Ben's shoulder, and Ben kissed the top of his head. "So what advice would you offer to new parents?" Ben said. "So I can pass it on to Tris."

"Pick your battles," Frances said.

"Never forget how much you love them," said Ocean.

Leo smiled quietly. "Forgive your parents for their mistakes, because you're about to make them yourself."

Jamie and Ben chuckled, Dune smiled, and Micah played with his wine glass. "I don't know what I'd do if I ever had a kid," he said quietly. "I'd break it."

"They're a lot harder to break than you think," Frances said.

Micah nodded, but thought,
Harder physically, maybe.

"You know what we haven't done for a long time," said Jamie, "and we ought to do while we're still young and unattached: go dancing."

"Yeah, we haven't been since your appendectomy, Micah," said Ben.

Dune drank more wine, eyes downcast. Jamie said, "Do you want to go out, Dunie?"

"I haven't been for a while."

"All the more reason to," Jamie said. "And there's been neither hide nor hair of the asshole, so I'm supposing he's left town."

Leo didn't look convinced, though everyone else was nodding. "It's not good to sit at home every night," said Frances gently.

"Is this a project?" Dune said. "Get Dune out of the house?"

"It's a spur of the moment idea to have some fun," said Ben. "You should come, too, Leo. Get back on the old horse."

"Oh yes," Leo said dryly, "the clubs are swarming with single, gay men in their fifties. You kids go ahead. I'll be fine."

"Do you mean tonight?" Dune said, surprised.

"I was thinking more of Saturday night, myself." Ben looked at Jamie with his eyebrows raised, and Jamie nodded in agreement. "Saturday night. We can have a big group date."

"I think we'll pass, too," said Frances. "A gay bar isn't the most fun place for a couple of old dykes."

"Smaller group date, then," said Ben.

Under the table Micah took Dune's hand and squeezed it. Dune smiled at him and said, "Yeah. Okay, then. Let's go be social."

"You don't have to go," Micah said when everyone had gone home and they were getting ready for bed. "But I'd love it if you did."

"Yeah, it hasn't been a whole lot of fun for you lately, has it?"

"I don't mean that.
 
I just think this will be a good step for you." He wrapped his arms around Dune's chest and kissed his spine. "I worry, you know."

"I know," Dune said quietly. He turned in Micah's arms and kissed him. "I know you worry. I love that you worry."

Micah held him close and nodded. They kissed a lot, hugged and held each other, but Micah felt like asking for sex was pushing too far, and Dune never offered. Micah tried not to think about it much: though he missed sex, as tempting as it was to go cruising, he'd promised himself to be faithful to Dune.

Dune kissed him again, sliding both hands down Micah's back, and Micah started trembling though he tried not to get his hopes up. "You must be getting tired of just jerking off," Dune whispered, and Micah blushed.

"Maybe a little. I miss you."

"You know," Dune said slowly, "we've never really said -- I mean, if you really need to --"

"No," Micah said. "I love you. I don't need anybody but you."

Dune looked at him seriously a moment, then kissed him again, tilting back his head and running fingers through Micah's hair. He slid his hands down Micah's body to that ass, and boosted Micah up onto the bathroom counter.

"Dune," Micah whispered, "you don't have to."

"I want to." He kissed Micah again. "I miss you, too. I need you."

Micah wrapped his legs tight around Dune's waist. "I need you, too." He kissed Dune, tasting his mouth. When Dune tried to lift Micah off the counter, his arms shook.

"Um," Dune said, looking embarrassed. "I'm a little out of shape."

"I'll walk." Micah hopped off the counter, took both of Dune's hands, and pulled him along the hall, and they lay down together on the bed.

Dune's body was lean and sleek; he was starting to put on flesh again, starting to regain the definition in his muscles. Micah touched Dune slowly, with his fingertips, with his lips and his tongue, while Dune trembled and moaned beneath him.

Micah paused and looked at him, then licked one finger and stuck it in Dune's navel. Dune yelped and glared at him. "What was that for?"

"You said you like sex better when it's not serious." He pressed his mouth to Dune's belly and blew a loud raspberry. "So I'm not being serious." Micah pushed Dune's legs open and nibbled the insides of his thighs.

Dune laughed and caressed Micah's head. "You remember."

"Of course I do." He danced his tongue up Dune's body. "I remember everything about you."

"Oh, really," Dune said, disbelieving but warm.

"Oh, yes. Like," Micah began kissing over his ribs and stomach, "I remember that you love Joseph Cotton and Steve McQueen, and you'd rather eat a turkey sandwich than a hamburger, and you know ten different ways to cook with eggplant, and you're always trying to make better cookies than Ben but you never, never will even though your cookies are delicious, and you have an opinion on everything, and someday you're going to write a novel, and you take your coffee with sugar and cream, and your favorite name is Zachary --"

"Okay, okay," Dune said, laughing. "Okay. I believe you."

"See? I know you best." He lay down on top of Dune, their foreheads and noses pressed together. "And I want to love you best. I want to make you happy."

"You do make me happy, love," Dune whispered, rubbing his hands on Micah's back. "You do."

***

Saturday night, Dune and Micah met Ben and Jamie at Zebra. "You look hot," Jamie said in appreciation, eying Dune. Gavin had thrown out most of Dune's club clothes, but left his jeans, which hung low on his hips from his weight loss; and he had borrowed one of Micah's T-shirts, which was bright yellow and printed with a happy kid saying, "I love bacon!" Micah had just giggled when Dune asked him what it meant.

"Hey," Ben said and kissed Jamie lightly. "Don't make me jealous or no cookies."

"You're the only one," Jamie said, batting his eyelashes, and they both laughed as they went down the stairs to the dance floor.

Micah put his arm around Dune's waist and leaned his head against Dune’s chest. "Do you want to dance or get a drink?"

"Let's dance." Dune kissed Micah's temple and then pulled him by the hand down the stairs to the dance floor. The music was loud, the beat fast, and they danced close, grinning at each other.

We needed this,
Dune thought.
I needed this.
His mother was right: he'd been spending too much time thinking and not enough time doing lately. And any time he could spend with Micah -- his adorable, happy, sexy, sweet lover -- was time well spent.

He could see Ben and Jamie nearby, dancing in each other's arms and smiling at each other.
So much love,
he thought, and for the first time in three years didn't feel envious toward them at all. He had enough love to last him the rest of his life.

The thought made him pause with surprise, and Micah said, "What?" in a worried tone.

"Nothing," Dune said and hugged him around the waist. "Just a fleeting thought."

"Hang onto those," Micah said wisely. "They may not come around again."

"Dork," Dune said affectionately and kissed Micah’s nose. He thought,
I don't know if we'll last forever -- but there's only one way to find out, isn't there?

He'd bring up the subject with Micah sometime. Not tonight.

They'd been dancing about an hour or so when Micah said, "I need a drink. Do you want anything?"

"Just bottled water, I think."

Micah ran a hand over Dune's cheek. "You look a little tired -- how about you stake us out a booth and I'll bring the drinks to you."

"Okay," Dune said. "Hurry back."

"Quick like a bunny," Micah said, and hurried off to the bar.

Dune ambled along the edges of the dance floor, looking for an empty booth. There were a few big groups, a few couples nearly on each other's laps, and one guy with his head thrown back and his lips parted -- his companion under the table, Dune assumed. But no empty booths.