Love Revisited

by Marie Brown

  Part of him noticed the dirty look Erik's mom gave him. All of him didn't care.

  "When I got my instruments out of the studio," Erik grunted, trying to get the dulcimer's warped lid to close and stay that way. It fought back. "You were well out of the picture by that point. No one knew where you were. So I took it, just in case."

  "Thanks." Shane pulled the Minimoog out of the closet, thinking surely there was some symbolism there, and lovingly tucked its legs and other parts away for travel.

  "You shouldn't look at my son like that."

  "Huh?" Shane blinked. "Why not? One of my best friends saved my favorite instrument for me. Why shouldn't I look at him all happy?"

  She huffed and left the room.

  "Man, that was almost like something my grandma would've said," Shane shook his head.

  "Yeah, Mom's a bit old-fashioned. Think this is the last of them. Ready to start hauling it all out to the car?"

  "You're like me. Nothing but a few clothes and music."

  "Yeah." Erik grinned. "Oh, and a toothbrush."

  He ducked out of the bedroom while Shane slung the duffel's strap over his shoulder and started for the car.

  The loading process went well. They'd done such things themselves so often before Luna Sea made the big time, it was practically second nature.

  "Feel like we're heading out for a performance," Erik said, tucking the last instrument into the car.

  "Yeah, me too. But there's no bass drum to drop on my foot."

  "Or mine." Erik grinned. "You and that damn drum. I swear I thought Mikey was going to hurt you."

  "Wouldn't have surprised me if he did. At least by the time he got the expensive kind there were real roadies to handle his kit. Ready?"

  "Almost. Think I'd better go say bye to my mom, in the interests of being able to speak to my family ever again."

  He disappeared into the house for an alarmingly long time. Shane relaxed in his patch of car-scented sunlight, once again feeling more than a little unreal. Then Erik came out of the house, all sorts of red and moving like he was pissed off.

  He jumped in the car and squealed out of the driveway without a word. He didn't say anything until the stop sign at the end of the block.

  "Well. That sucked."

  "What happened?"

  "Let's just say I'm glad you like me, because I can't ever fall back on my parents for a place to stay, ever again."

  "What?"

  "Yeah. She really didn't like you. Um," Erik gave him an uncomfortable glance, "you probably should know. My mom's a little nuts. Schizo. For real. Been to the nuthouse and everything. And she lost it all over me in there."

  "Oh." Shane blinked. What do you say when someone tells you his mom is nuts? "Uh. . ."

  "And I lost it right back. She came down on me for all sorts of shit, real and imaginary, and I told her to shove it up her ass. So I don't think I'll be welcome around there anytime soon. Now. Moving on. Where are we going?"

  Shane fished the directions out of his back pocket and handed them over. "Sorry your mom flipped out."

  "Not your fault. I'd rather live with you, anyway. You're more fun in bed." Erik grinned, then looked at the paper. "Okay. Think I can manage this."

  "North Shore, baby!" Shane crowed. "Take us to our new life!"

  "Tell me, what's up with you and this Lakeview place?"

  "I'm a Southside brat," Shane shrugged. "To me, anything North Shore is like the ultimate success. Some people think New York is making it. Southsiders, it's North Shore. That's where all the rich folk live."

  "Ah. Gotcha."

  The drive to Boystown went smoothly, this time of day. Not much traffic clogged the streets as they migrated towards the Lakeview neighborhood.

  The house turned out to be smallish, with a decent sized yard and massive, mature fruit and hardwood trees, tucked in between a pair of big places that looked like they'd been split into multiple units. The style of the bricks and its general architecture hinted that it dated from the late 1800s. The bricks wore a bland and very thick coat of plain white paint.

  "Well, here we are," Erik said, parking the Plymouth on the street in front of the little house.

  "Home sweet mystery," Shane said, holding up the keys with a smile. "Come on, let's check this place out."

  They went through a short wrought-iron gate and up the steps. Shane fumbled with the keys, feeling like he suddenly sprouted all thumbs as he tried to pick out the right one to open the door. Then he succeeded.

  "Well, I approve already," Erik said, as the door opened. "Hardwood floors!"

  "No vacuum required," Shane laughed, eyes sparkling, then they went inside and discovered their new home together.

  Three bedrooms, basement, attic, parlor, formal dining room, a kitchen that made them both want to learn how to cook, and something that begged to be a music room. All of which were painted utterly shocking colors. Not to mention a detached garage out back, clearly added at a different time and in a different architectural style, with front and back porches on the house itself.

  "I think I'm in love," Shane said, as they stood out on the back porch and watched a squirrel scrambling up the trunk of the blooming apple tree closest to them.

  "You'd better be," Erik replied, then caught him close for a long and loving kiss.

  "You know I love you," Shane said, slipping his hands up under Erik's shirt. "But I meant the house."

  "I'm with you on that. I could do without the bruised-plum colored parlor, though."

  "Or the day-glo orange kitchen," Shane shuddered.

  "Yoo-hoo! Hello, neighbors!"

  They broke apart guiltily to find a thin man with large glasses waving at them from the fence.

  "Hello," Shane called.

  "I didn't know Betsy had rented the place out already! Hi, my name is Harvey."

  They stepped off the back porch together and moved to the fence.

  "Hi, Harvey," Erik began. "I'm—"

  Harvey let loose an excited squeal. "Ooh! I know who you are! I don't believe this! Erik Mac Rae and Shane Haggerty! Ha! I always knew you were together."

  Shane and Erik exchanged wry glances.

  "Oh, did you now?" Shane said.

  "Of course! I've seen Luna Sea in concert. The chemistry between you two is just intense. Especially when you sing 'Bedroom Eyes.' That's a dead giveaway."

  "I'm beginning to wonder if there's anybody doesn't know about us," Erik said, raising an eyebrow at Shane.

  "Of course there is," their new neighbor said cheerfully. "Straight folk. They've got no clue."

  Shane chuckled. "Good enough."

  "Include my mom in that," Erik said wryly.

  "Family troubles?" Harvey looked interested.

  "Nothing to worry about," Erik assured him.

  "Good. Well, I confess, I certainly wasn't expecting to find such famous new neighbors. You two are something like heroes to our community."

  "No shit?"

  "No shit," Harvey grinned at Shane. "We all love you around here, our own homegrown Chicagoland rock stars. So are you two getting back together with the rest of the band?"

  "Ha!" Shane shook his head. "No fucking way."

  "Not likely," Erik agreed. "There were. . . problems."

  "Too bad," Harvey sighed. "Anyway, all fame aside, I was going to invite you boys to my party on Friday. Nothing like you're probably used to, just a few friends, and a bit of wine and cheese and such. Are you interested? We can make it into something of a welcome to the neighborhood thing for you."

  "Sure," Erik said. "Shane?"

  "Of course," he nodded. "What better way to meet our new neighbors?"

  "Should we bring anything?"

  "Just yourselves," Harvey beamed. "It's a casual gathering."

  "Good," Shane grinned. "Neither one of us is much set up for society at the moment."

  "Oh!" Erik made a shocked sound, then nudged Shane. "Guess what else we're not set up for?"

  Shane gave him a
blank look, and Erik turned towards Harvey. "Are there any secondhand furniture stores around? We need a bed, or a couch, or something, to tide us over until we can get some real furniture. Shane's right, we've been living out of duffel bags and instrument cases for years now."

  Shane's eyes widened. "Shit! Why didn't I think of that?"

  Erik laughed at him. "Because the last day has been one hell of a wild ride, that's why."

  "Yes, of course there is," Harvey said, and told them where a secondhand store was. And the grocery store. And the best restaurant.

  "Hey," Shane interrupted him. "There a Molnari's anywhere nearby?"

  "Certainly! They even deliver."

  "What's Molnari's?"

  "Best damn pizza in the world, gypsy man," Shane grinned. "True Chicago-style deep dish. You'll love it."

  "You have to love Molnari's to live in Chi-town," Harvey laughed.

  "Hope it's good, then. Shane? Let's get the car unloaded, then get to that furniture place. Sound like a plan?"

  "If you need anything, just let me know!" Harvey said, then waved and returned to his house.

  "What a happy, cheerful man."

  "Yeah."

  They got busy really fast. The sun was already on its way down to the horizon, closing time couldn't be too far away.

  "Whew," Shane said, as they dropped the last of the instruments in the parlor. "That was crazy."

  "Yeah. Now let's go get something to sleep on. Because," Erik pulled him close for a kiss, "I have no intention of letting you sleep undisturbed, nor of having our fun ruined by a bare hardwood floor."

  "I'm with you on that," Shane said fervently. "Anything else obvious we're forgetting?"

  "Probably. This place come with toilet paper?"

  "Shit. Probably not."

  So they made a run for the secondhand store, and picked up a somewhat battered but cheap mattress and box spring, along with a pair of blankets. Then they stopped at the grocery store and picked up a few dire necessities, like toilet paper.

  "I think I'm going to like this," Erik said around gasps, as they wrestled the new mattress up the stairs. It kept trying to escape in weird ways.

  "Like what?"

  "This whole business of having a house. I've always wanted a place to call home."

  "What about someone to share it with?"

  "Only if that someone is you."

  "Aww, that's sweet. Oh, fuck!"

  The mattress twisted vigorously right out of Shane's hands, and Erik laughed at him.

  They managed to get both mattress and box spring installed upstairs, with a lot of swearing. Shane flopped on the bed, breathing hard and wiping sweat off his forehead. The black walls of the bedroom leaned close to inspect the new addition.

  "Shitty," Erik said, flopping beside him. "No pillows."

  "Think we're going to have to make a list, or something," Shane said. "You're a rich man now, right?"

  "Well, I will be in a few days, when it all clears the bank. So will you. There's a lot of money in having an album go platinum and a year, year and a half of sold out shows."

  "Can't believe I never questioned Kirby," Shane grumbled. "I just assumed we never made back more than the advance, because he'd tell us if we did."

  "So trusting. I was, too. But when the advance ran out I started asking questions. I mean, really, what's the point of having millions of people buy your music if you don't get paid for it?"

  "None at all." Shane sighed. "I almost wish we were still recording."

  "If we do that again, let's stay away from the big arena tours, okay? That's where all the trouble came from."

  "Yeah. Fine by me. Stay away from all temptation, and you'll stay with me."

  Erik smiled at him. "Yeah. But we've got to do something about these black walls. Giving me claustrophobia."

  Shane laughed and sat up. "I can see why. Guess we'd better get moving again."

  "Why?" Erik tugged at him until he laid back down. "No hurry anymore. We got the bed, that'll do. Nowhere to go, no reason to get up early in the morning, why can't we just enjoy the moment in our very own house?"

  They kissed, long and slow. Shane tangled his fingers in Erik's hair. "Ever have your life change so dramatically for the better overnight? This day is the utter opposite of what happened a year ago."

  "You're telling me! That was pure misery. This," Erik waved at the room around them, "is so far removed from that horrible day, it might as well be a different world."

  "It is," Shane said, letting his hands drift where they would. "A totally different world, where there is no threat of Frankie or depression or loneliness. . ."

  "So this counts as getting away?"

  "Boy, does it ever! I can totally go for a life on the North Shore. Even the air smells different up here."

  "I noticed that. Definitely less city, more lake."

  "We're going to die in the winter, though," Shane laughed. "Right on the damn shore. Lake effect. We'll get pounded."

  "So we'll just have to lay in a stock of hot chocolate and warm fuzzy blankets."

  "And books. Don't forget the books."

  They kissed again, hands seeking skin beneath clothing. "Think we're both overdressed for this occasion," Erik said, before he made Shane gasp with a well-placed nip.

  "Think you're right," Shane replied, tugging at Erik's jeans. "Better fix that."

  Even undressing became an act of love and sensuality as they explored each other's bodies thoroughly.

  "I've missed you so much," Erik whispered. "Your body, your mind, the way you make me feel. . ."

  "We belong together."

  "Yes."

  Those were the last words spoken for a while. They didn't need words to communicate their love for one another. They had the magic to do that for them.