Something Beautiful

by Jenna Jones

  "Jamie," Dune said in the same tone.

  "Have you and Micah got a little something going on that I don't know about?"

  Dune took the phone away from his ear a moment to stare at the mouthpiece, since he couldn't stare at Jamie. "Me and Micah? No. We just like hanging out together. He wants to find an apartment in the city and he'll be living with me in the meantime. His parents are putting some pressure on him to get married and he needs to get away."

  "They want him married? They've met him, right?"

  "Presumably," Dune said. "I think they know a kid named Micah, anyway."

  "Hm. Well, it's nice of you to keep him under your wing."

  "He fits there," Dune said, confused.

  Jamie laughed. "And everybody wants a place to fit. Ben and I have an appointment we need to get to -- call you later, yeah?"

  "Sure. Take care." He hung up, shoved a hand through his hair and then sat down at his desk to write.

  Social life, personal issues, family worries -- it was time to put all that aside and work.

  Chapter Seven

  Friday night. Dune was shirtless and sweaty on the dance floor at Zebra. There were a few new phone numbers in the pockets of his leather trousers and a big muscled top with a shaved head -- his name was Bill? Phil? Will? -- was dancing against his back, hand on Dune's belly, tracing the bones of his pelvis as they danced.

  Oh yes, Dune thought, lifting his hands over his head and rocking his hips, his eyes closed in the euphoria of dance. Sex tonight.

  "Get lost," someone said to Bill or Phil or Will and Dune opened his eyes to see Gavin standing in front of him.

  "No," Dune said at the same time as Bill or Phil or Will.

  Gavin gave Dune his most disarming smile and then a fierce, "don't fuck with me" look to Bill or Phil or Will. "I said, get lost. Dune and I have things to talk about."

  Bill or Phil or Will scowled at them both. "You should have told me you had a boyfriend," he said, and sauntered away to find some other lovely thing to dance with.

  Dune crossed his arms over his chest and wished he remembered what happened to his shirt. "What do you want?"

  Gavin placed both hands on Dune's shoulders and lightly kissed his lips. "Hello," he said cheerfully. Dune shook him off and pushed through the dancers to the coat room. "Dune," Gavin called after him. "Dune. Dune!" Dune finally turned and saw that Gavin had fallen to his knees, his expression beseeching, his hands open in supplication. "Don't leave me this way, Dune."

  "Is that offer open to anyone?" someone asked him, but Gavin ignored him, eyes only on Dune.

  Dune scowled and went to him, grabbed a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Quit it, you drama queen."

  "I just wanted you to notice me." The pleading look was gone, replaced by Gavin's habitual smirk. "They've still got those private rooms here, don't they?"

  "Not that I'd go into any with you," Dune said.

  Gavin looked at him a moment, then said, "Come on, let's sit down." Gavin took Dune's hand and led him to one of the small circular booths in the back of the club. Dune slid into the seat opposite Gavin, who picked up the cocktail menu and perused it in silence.

  Two can play at this, Dune thought, and inspected his fingernails.

  At last Gavin said, "Why do you hate me?" without looking up.

  Dune looked at him through half-closed eyes, brows lowered.

  "Are you really this unforgiving?" Gavin said, finally putting down the cocktail menu. "Dune, I've changed. I've learned my lesson. I'm a new man."

  "I don't believe you." He started to slide out of the booth.

  Gavin leaned over the table and put his hands over Dune's. "I was young. We both were. I thought that's what love was. I know better now. Dune. I came back to the city for you."

  Dune looked at Gavin and then pulled his hands away. "You can't just show up and apologize and expect everything to be forgiven. You were terrible to me."

  "So let me make it up to you. Let me show you that I've changed. Come home with me tonight. I haven't unpacked much but I have a bed, since you don't want a private room."

  Dune frowned. "We fuck and everything's fine. Right."

  Gavin smiled at him, charming and confident. "Make-up sex is supposed to be the best kind."

  Dune was about to answer when he felt an arm slide around his shoulders, and Micah dropped himself into Dune's lap. "Hello, gorgeous. I'm sorry I'm late."

  "You're forgiven. I missed you," Dune said. He'd never been so relieved to see Micah. He wrapped his arms around Micah's slender waist and kissed Micah's cheek. Micah grinned and winked at Dune, then snuggled himself deep into Dune's arms.

  "I had the worst time getting away. Crises always happen just before quitting time." He looked at Gavin, completely relaxed and not at all self-conscious about sitting on Dune's lap. "I've seen you around the Chronicle, haven't I?"

  "I work the city beat." Gavin looked taken aback at Micah's brazen affection, but he recovered enough to say, "I'm Gavin. Laird's brother. We met on Labor Day."

  "Oh! That's right. I'd forgotten you." Micah's normally sweet voice had an edge of steel to it. "I work at the paper, too. I'm in IT."

  Gavin said, starting to smile, "So I know who to come to when my email crashes and my printer won't print."

  "Yep, I take care of all that," Micah said cheerfully. "So be nice to my Dunie or I'll put girl-on-girl porn on your computer."

  Gavin's smile lost a little of its shine. "Are you threatening me?"

  "I'm just letting you know what's what," Micah said as lightly, as if they were talking about video games. "He's my Dune. Don't fuck with him."

  "Dune?" Gavin said, eyebrows furrowing.

  Dune shrugged helplessly at him. "What can I say? I'm his Dune."

  "I see. I didn't know you'd taken up with toddlers." Gavin slid out of the booth. "I'll see you around, Dune."

  Micah exhaled deeply when Gavin was out of earshot and moved off Dune's lap. "Sorry about that. You looked so unhappy I thought drastic measures were called for."

  Dune kissed him. He intended it to be a simple thank-you kiss, but Micah tasted warm and sweet and smelled divine, like sweat and soap and night air. He pulled away after a moment that was probably too long and smiled. "Thank you."

  "Welcome," Micah muttered, blushing high in his cheeks and looking into Dune's eyes.

  Dune swallowed and looked out at the crowd. "So tell me about the date." A waiter in tight, black shorts finally wandered over and they both ordered drinks, Micah producing his ID with a resigned sigh.

  "It wasn't that she was a bad date or anything," he said as he put his wallet away. "She was very nice. She hated that our parents had set us up like that, too. Turns out she has a boyfriend, but her parents don't approve of him, so they want to find somebody else for her to date."

  "Thinking you're a perfect choice, of course." Dune shook his head sadly.

  "Yeah. Anyway, after the movie we decided we'd made enough of an effort and went our separate ways. So I came here. It's early yet." He grinned and stretched out his arms across the back of the booth. "Plenty of time for dancing."

  "Don't tell me you went on a date with sweet Bonnie Harris wearing this," said Dune, fingering Micah's black mesh shirt that left nothing to the imagination about his physique. His body was slender but strong, his chest and arms with just a hint of definition, his stomach smooth.

  "Oh, no," Micah said. "I wore a regular shirt. I had this in the car."

  "I like it," Dune said quietly, and smiled at the waiter who had finally returned with their drinks. The young man winked at Dune as he placed their glasses on the table, with an extra enthusiastic "Thank you!" when Dune paid him and told him to keep the change.

  "So. Tomorrow. Most of my stuff is packed." Micah sipped his beer.

  "What do your parents think?"

  "My mom just said 'We'll talk about it.' That's all she ever says. I think the only way she's going to take me seriously is if I actually do it."
r />   Dune nodded and tasted his martini. "And if you're drinking tonight you ought to stay with me, anyway," he said and wondered why it felt like saying "Come up and see my etchings, little boy." "Are you going to be okay on the daybed?"

  "I'll be fine. I've been sleeping in little beds most of my life."

  "Okay. So we'll get you moved in tomorrow morning."

  "Cool. It's not much stuff, mostly books and games." Micah was nearly bouncing in his seat. "I'm going to live with you. I'm so excited."

  "Me, too," Dune said, smiling at him. "And if we need more people I'll call Jamie and Dad and we'll pay them with beer and pizza. Tomorrow night we're invited to movie night at Ben and Jamie's, by the way. Want to go?"

  Micah drank more beer and muttered, "Okay."

  "We don't have to if you don't want to."

  "You should go, if you want. I just -- Ben doesn't like me. I'm not really comfortable around him."

  "Jamie likes you and I like you, so that's two against one. And Ben's a teddy bear, really. You just have to know how to handle him."

  "Okay, so how do you handle him?"

  "Just let him think he's getting his way." Dune smiled at Micah and played with his shaggy hair. "Let's at least get your hair cut this weekend, too."

  Micah shook out his head. "I like it like this. I'm thinking about keeping the sideburns, and maybe growing a beard, too. Maybe then people will believe that I'm not a teenager with a fake ID."

  "You're very manly without the beard," Dune said indulgently, and then laughed as Micah pounced on him and gave him a loud, smacking kiss on his mouth.

  "Dance with me!" Micah commanded, pulling him out of the booth, and Dune was content to follow. The beat of the music didn't allow for slow, close dancing, but they could still dance hip-to-hip and belly-to-belly. They got plenty of second looks from other dancers, and a few tried to move between them, but Micah brushed them off easily. Every time he went out with Micah, Dune loved to see how people reacted to him, like they couldn't believe someone so ethereal was real.

  Dune put his arms around Micah's neck, looking into those eyes as they danced, and Micah beamed up at him. "If Gavin bothers you I can do horrible things to his computer."

  "Don't worry about it. I think he's taken the hint."

  "If he hasn't, I'm happy to play your boyfriend as much as you want."

  Dune kissed his forehead. "I wouldn't expect it of you."

  Micah slid both hands around Dune's waist and into the waistband of his trousers. "I missed you so much over the summer."

  "I missed you, too," Dune said softly. "We all did."

  "Yeah," Micah muttered, ignoring the thumping rhythm of the music to hold Dune close and sway. "I should have brought you with me. You would have enjoyed the same things I did and we wouldn't have fought." He laid his head on Dune's shoulder, his fingertips massaging Dune's back.

  Dune shivered as Micah stroked him. "You think so?"

  "We never fight. I like that we don't fight."

  Dune rubbed his cheek against Micah's soft hair. "I bet we could have found something to argue about. Three months of just you and me? We'd probably be bickering over which cheese to eat by the end of the summer."

  "Nope. We never fight. Even when you're upset with me you never make me feel like I'm stupid -- just that I did something stupid, which is something else entirely."

  "That's true," Dune said, "it is." He poked Micah's shoulder -- mostly to distract himself. Things were starting to feel entirely too cozy. "So why didn't you bring me with you, huh? Your very own best friend, but you still left me to languish all summer."

  "Because I wanted my boyfriend. I'll know better next time. Boyfriend bad, best friend good."

  "No, boyfriends are good. Just not that particular boyfriend. Not for you, anyway."

  "You know what?" Micah said. "You should find me the perfect boyfriend. You know lots of guys and you understand people. You have to know somebody who's right for me."

  Dune opened his mouth to answer, then laughed and shook his head. "If I had any idea what kind of guys you like, maybe -- but the only things your boyfriends have in common is that they were all men." He looped his arms over Micah's shoulders to look into his eyes. "So tell me what kind of guy you want and maybe I'll find him, if he actually exists."

  "Hm," Micah hummed thoughtfully, his hips falling easily into rhythm with Dune's. "Well...somebody hot, of course. He has to be cute. And smart. I like smart." He smiled at Dune, looking angelic. "And warm. I want somebody who's warm."

  "Can somebody be both hot and warm?" Dune rested his forehead against Micah's.

  "Yes. And not pushy. He'll have to understand about all the complications I have to deal with. And he has to like me for who I am, not for who he wants me to be."

  "You and everybody else want that."

  "Funny how many people fall in love and then want to change everything about the person they love."

  "The trick," Dune said, "is to not fall in love."

  "The trick," Micah replied, "is to fall in love with the right person. And how are you ever going to know that unless you try a few on? So introduce me to some of your friends and maybe one of them will be right for me."

  "You can have Gavin," Dune said, and Micah giggled. "Or Daniel. He's free, now that he's not keeping me company any more."

  "I don't want Daniel. He's too tall."

  Dune laughed. "You should have added that to your list."

  "I'm adding it now. No one too tall. They can be my height, though, that's okay. And I prefer brunettes, though blonds are okay."

  "All right," Dune said, "anything more? Eye color, religion, political affiliation?"

  "Religion, don't care, politics, obvious. Eye color," Micah mused. "Dark. And big and soulful. Eyes that when they look at you, you feel it."

  I know what you mean, Dune thought, returning Micah's steady gaze. I know exactly what you mean. "Stop it."

  "Stop what?"

  "Whatever you're doing. Stop it." He let Micah go, stepped back, and pressed his hands to his eyes a moment. "I think it's time I go home," he said when he took his hands away.

  "Oh," Micah said, his disappointment obvious. "But it's early."

  "I'm tired. It's been a long week."

  "Okay," Micah said, and Dune knew he shouldn't fall for the big-eyed, forlorn waif act, but he put his arms back around Micah anyway and pulled him close. Micah sighed and leaned his head on Dune's chest.

  "Micah. You know I love you."

  "I know."

  "But I'm not in love you."

  "You could be." Micah looked up at Dune and bit his lip. When Dune didn't answer, Micah said, "I mean, I really like you. You know how much I like you. And maybe that hot, smart, warm guy I'm looking for is you."

  "Micah," Dune began.

  "You know you're the first person I think of when I need help and the only person I trust completely and -- and -- and take me home, already," he finished in a helpless, hopeful tone. "Take me home with you, Dune."

  Dune felt his pulse kick up. His mind was whirling with frustration and possibility. Micah wouldn't be his first friend-with-benefits, but he would be the first who didn't start out that way, and there were so many ways their relationship could go completely wrong if Dune didn't handle it the right way. And he had no idea what the right way was. "Take you home and do what?" Dune said softly, even though he knew.

  "Don't be dopey." Micah ducked his head and blushed. "I want to be your boyfriend. I want to live with you and date you and sleep with you. I want -- you. I want you."

  Dune stroked Micah's cheekbone with his thumb. "My boyfriend, eh? You just got out of a relationship."

  "So did you. And neither of us was very happy in them. Lucas wasn't the right guy for me and Daniel wasn't the right guy for you."

  "Daniel was more of an arrangement than a relationship."

  "But you get what I mean."

  "I get what you mean," Dune said, wrapping his arms around Micah's shou
lders. He stooped to lay his head on Micah's shoulder and slowly exhaled. "What makes you think we're right for each other?"

  "I just do," Micah said, arms tightening around Dune. "I need you. All the time. And you need me -- to give you someone to look after. You're a helper. If you don't have somebody to take care of, you don't know what to do with yourself."

  "So we're co-dependent, is what you're saying."

  "You know, I've never been sure what that means."