by Jenna Jones
"Well?" he said when the grinder shut off.
Dune poured the grounds into the coffee maker, letting his hair fall in front of his face as he bent his head. "A delegate, huh?"
"Yes. A representative. And if this doesn't work we'll try an intervention, and if that doesn't work we're resorting to kidnapping."
"And if that doesn't work?" Dune said softly.
"Bribery with cookies? I don't know. We didn't plan ahead that far."
"Great," Dune muttered, and filled the water reservoir.
"We miss you."
"You mentioned that."
"Gavin's no good for you. He's cutting you off from your family and your friends. He's not taking care of you and he's certainly not inspiring you to look after yourself." The tumble of hair in front of Dune's face was worrying him, and Micah reached across the bar to push it back. Dune flinched and looked away, and Micah could see why once his hair was out of the way: Dune's left eye was bruised and there was a cut healing at the corner of his mouth. Micah dropped his hand. "And he's hitting you," he said in a voice he didn't bother to keep steady.
Dune combed his hair back in front of his face. "It's nothing. I fell."
"Oh, bullshit. Bull. Shit. He's hurting you and hiding you away and --"
"I tripped and fell down the stairs. I'm fine."
The bruise, the way Dune was holding himself so stiffly and moving without his usual grace -- Micah jumped off the stool and went to Dune and pulled up the pajama top without asking. Dune sighed and raised his arms, not bothering to cover the bruise across his ribs. Micah looked up at Dune, frowning. "Did he do this to you?"
"I fell," Dune said again, but didn't sound like he was trying to be convincing anymore.
Micah took a deep breath. Screw turning the other cheek, he thought, and said, "He's in there?" as he pointed to the bedroom and started walking toward it.
"Whatever you're thinking, stop it."
Micah said in a low voice, "I am stopping it," and threw open the bedroom door.
Gavin stirred and blinked at him. "What are you doing here?"
Micah crossed the room quickly, grabbed Gavin's T-shirt, and punched him hard in the nose. "Shit!" Gavin shouted, his hands flying to his nose as blood spurted over the dark green sheets.
"Does it make you feel like a man?" Micah roared at him. "Does it make you feel like a big, strong man?"
"What the fuck are you talking about, you little shit?" Gavin shouted back. "You broke my nose!"
"Good! Get up! Get up and get out!" He yanked back the sheets and threw the nearest shirt at Gavin. "Get out of here and never come back!"
"Dune!" Gavin shouted.
"I said get out!" Micah threw a pair of pants at Gavin. "Get dressed and get out!"
Blood still gushing down his face, Gavin fumbled into the shirt and pants. "This isn't over yet, asshole," he said thickly and pressed his bloody T-shirt to his nose. "Dune!"
Micah shoved him toward the front door. "You're not worthy of licking his boots," he told Gavin harshly and threw shoes and a jacket that looked like his at him, too. "Go away and never come back!"
"Dune!" Gavin shouted one more time, and then Micah slammed the door shut and locked it.
Micah turned around, panting, and saw Dune in the kitchen, whose eyes were wide and arms were crossed over his chest. Micah inhaled shakily, said, "I think I broke my hand," and began to weep.
Dune came to him and held him, kissed his forehead and whispered, "Shh, Micah. Shh."
"I'm no better than he is."
"No, baby, you're worth a thousand Gavins. A million."
"I've never hit anybody like that. My hand hurts."
"Let's get some ice on it," Dune said gently and drew him back to the kitchen. Micah struggled to regain control as Dune filled a dish towel with ice cubes and gently pressed it to his swelling knuckles. After a moment Dune said, "I've never seen anybody do anything like that."
Micah sniffled. "My dad -- there was a woman in our church who was really afraid of her husband, and when the husband wouldn't attend counseling my dad tried talking to them at their house. Dad brought me along -- I was about sixteen and I think he thought I'd be, I don't know, helpful somehow -- and the husband was, well. An ass. He backhanded the wife right in front of us and Dad -- wow, he lost his temper like I've never seen before. He picked the guy up and threw him out like he was a bouncer at last call. The family stayed with us for a while, and then she took the kids and lived with her parents, and we lost touch."
"Your dad's a good man," Dune said quietly.
"He's got his moments." He looked up at Dune. "Dunie." Dune met his gaze, solemn. "I thought if I didn't see you --" His voice started to shake again. "I thought if I didn't see you I'd stop wanting you -- and needing you -- and loving you." Dune pressed his lips together, his eyes full and dark. "But I didn't," Micah whispered. "I'm sorry."
Dune held Micah's face and kissed his forehead. "I have missed you so much," Dune whispered, and leaned their foreheads together.
"I've missed you, too," Micah said, and his eyes stung. "Come back to us, Dunie. We all miss you."
Dune looked at Micah a moment, then simply nodded and held onto Micah, burying his face in Micah's neck. It hit Micah then, how this mess had happened: somehow Gavin had convinced Dune his friends didn't want him anymore.
We should have done this weeks ago, Micah thought, and rubbed his back and kissed him tenderly. "Come on, Dunie," he said. "We should go to your dad's for a few days. Gavin might come back and it'll be safer for you if you're not here."
"I don't want to run away," Dune said.
"It's not running away. It's retreating to decide the next course of action."
Dune gave a ghost of a smile. "And what about when you go into work tomorrow? He'll be there."
"I'll deal with it," Micah said stoutly, and wondered if he'd be out of a job. But the important thing was Dune. "Come on. Let's get your things together and I'll drive you to your dad's." Dune was still smiling faintly, and Micah said, "What?"
"I'd rather go to your place."
"Oh," Micah said and nodded. "Okay. Come on, then. Let's get you packed. Do you want your computer?"
"Yes," Dune said and followed Micah into the bedroom and watched him hunt up a backpack and his laptop bag. "Gavin changed the password on my email."
"I can hack it. It's not hard. What clothes do you want?"
"Comfortable clothes," Dune said softly, and lowered his head so that his hair covered his bruised eye again.
Micah stopped packing and looked at him. "If you want to press charges against him I'll take you to the police station."
"I don't want to press charges. I just want to go to your place. That's all I want."
"Dunie --"
"Please, Micah," he said, and he sounded helpless and exhausted.
"Okay," Micah said, and resumed packing up his bag. "No police."
When the bag was packed, the coffee maker turned off and Dune had pulled on a coat and some boots, they walked down to Micah's car, Micah keeping an eye out for Gavin. He expected to get beaned on the head with a beer bottle, but the only evidence of Gavin's anger was deep scratches on his car that hadn't been there before. Micah scowled, and Dune said, "You don't expect him to be mature about this, do you?" and Micah had supposed he was right. You force a guy away from his lover, you're lucky that having your car keyed is all there is.
Dune leaned his head on Micah's shoulder as Micah drove, and Micah thought if Dune were feeling better he'd suggest going to Golden Gate Park and finding a place they could make out. You're assuming stuff, he thought, and just touched Dune's cheek to reassure him. He might be sworn off sex for good.
What a dreadful thought. Micah frowned and Dune said, "Is something wrong?"
"No," Micah said and kissed the top of his head. "It's getting better."
"That's true," Dune said, resettling comfortably against him.
***
With Dune safely in th
e shower at his place, Micah called Leo. "He's here but he doesn't want to see anybody just yet."
"Is he okay? What happened? Was Gavin there?"
"He's okay." Micah hesitated. "I threw Gavin out."
Silence for a moment. "You never cease to amaze me," Leo said in a voice that wasn't joking at all.
"I might have broken his nose," Micah added, surprised at Leo's response.
"Good. Karma's a bitch. What's this about Dune not wanting to see anybody?"
"Not just yet, is all. He's really tired." And thin and sad, Micah thought and looked back at the bathroom. "Let's feed him after he's rested."
"I'll make something. What would he like, do you think? Stir-fry? Lasagna?"
"I don't know," Micah said honestly. "You might want to talk to him before you start cooking. Leo, he's -- he's in really bad shape."
Another pause. "I'm coming up."
"Leo," Micah said, but he had already hung up the phone and was knocking on the door before Micah had even put away his own.
"What do you mean, he's in bad shape?" Leo said, and Stuart, at his elbow, nodded with concern.
"Come in," Micah said and closed the door behind them. "I mean, I think Gavin's been hitting him. In fact I'm pretty positive of that."
Leo's face lost all its color. "Hitting my son," he said in a voice that was filled with quiet, focused rage.
"He hasn't said so," Micah said hastily, and something in Stuart's face said that wasn't helping. Micah finished, helpless, "He's got bruises."
Without another word Leo went back to the bathroom and yanked open the door, causing Dune to shout, "Dad!" before the door was closed again.
Micah sighed and said to Stuart, "Would you like some coffee?"
"Actually, I'd prefer tea if you have any."
"I'll look. I don't buy it often." He started poking through his cupboards for tea packets, listening all the while for any words to be coherent through the fan in the bathroom. Whatever Dune and Leo were saying, though, was too quiet to hear.
Micah pulled out a box of chai tea bags and said, "This is all I've got. Sorry."
Stuart shook his head, resigned, and said, "Coffee will be lovely, then. So what's this about you breaking Gavin's nose?"
"Oh. Um." He picked up a bag of coffee and plugged in his coffee maker. "I don't know if I broke his nose. There was blood."
"You probably did, then," Stuart said, looking proud.
"I didn't mean to. I got so angry when I realized he was hitting Dune and I -- but all my life I've been taught to turn the other cheek and love our neighbors --"
"Even Jesus lost his temper," Stuart said mildly. "Remember the money changers in the temple."
"Yeah, I know," Micah muttered. He measured coffee into the filter. "But even if Gavin is a complete and utter asshole I still shouldn't have punched him."
"Perhaps. But you also showed him that you meant business and that you're willing to fight for Dune."
Micah paused, biting his lip in thought. Willing to fight? Yes. Maybe even willing to die.
"Yeah," he said. "I guess I am."
"I think," Stuart said, "if there was any question left in Dune's mind about whether you loved him or not, it has been answered."
Micah turned on the coffee maker. "But I still don't know if Dune loves me."
"He'll let you know, when he's ready. He may need time after this, though."
"Yeah. Well, I've got time." He sighed, and Stuart laughed and hugged him.
"Don't despair, dearest child. You'll get your true love, I promise."
"That's right," Micah said, starting to smile. "I keep forgetting you control fate."
"Yes, I do," Stuart said firmly and smiled at him. "Dune will be fine. It's horrible that this happened to him but we got -- you got him out before any more damage could be done. I'm sure he's feeling quite grateful toward you about now."
"Yeah," Micah said. "Grateful." Gratitude was not a great way to start a relationship, he knew -- he didn't want Dune to feel indebted to him, he wanted Dune to feel passionate. I want my best friend back, he thought and leaned his head against Stuart's shoulder.
Stuart smoothed the furrow between Micah's brows with a fingertip. "'Promise me you'll never be thirty and wear pearls,'" he murmured, and Micah raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well, I'll never wear pearls," he said, puzzled.
"It's from a book." He let Micah go. "A modern-day Gothic novel where the protagonist is never named. Lawrence Olivier played the hero in the movie. He was always one of my favorites."
"I don't know who he is."
"Have you ever seen The Clash of the Titans?"
"Yeah, of course. It's one of the last movies to use classic stop-motion animation."
Stuart looked amused at that piece of trivia. "He played Zeus. He was quite a bit older then, of course, than when he played Maxim de Winter."
"Oh," Micah said and nodded, and Stuart gave that resigned laugh again.
"Ah, youth."
"Stop that," Micah said and poked him. "I'm not that young."
"Darling, you're younger than my first vintage. You're younger than my son."
Micah backed up and blinked at him. "You have a son."
"Yes," Stuart said, "and two daughters, but they're younger than you are and thus ruin my point."
"You have children."
"Yes, I do. I haven't seen them since they were very small. Their mother took them away when I came out to her."
"You were married." It was like hearing he'd been a gun smuggler.
"No," Stuart said, "we never actually got married."
"Still," Micah said. "You lived with someone long enough to have three children and then you dropped it on her one day, boom, 'I prefer guys'? Wow."
"Yes, I suppose I did," Stuart said after a moment.
"Wow," Micah repeated. "What are their names?"
"My son is Jean-Claud and my daughters are Nicole and Amelie."
"Pretty," Micah said. "What do they look like? Do they live in Paris? Are they --"
"Micah. As I said, I haven't seen them since they were small. If I passed them on the street I wouldn't know them."
"That's terrible," Micah said. "You should -- you should --"
"What? Intrude on their lives after twenty years? I'm honoring their mother's wishes. I wouldn't feel right doing otherwise."
"If I had a kid I'd want to know," Micah said. No question about it.
"I do know they exist," Stuart pointed out. "I just don't know what they're like. I'm going to see if Leo needs any help with Dune." He left the kitchen.
"Still," Micah muttered, and got down mugs for everyone.
In a few minutes the bathroom door opened again, and all three of them came to the kitchen. Dune gave Micah a "you had to call them, didn't you" look and took a mug with a quiet "Thank you."
"Bless you," Leo said, taking a mug too. "Now if you'd just convince Dune to answer our questions we could get something done here."
"Dad, I don't want to talk about it," Dune said wearily. "I'm fine. I don't want to call the police and I certainly am not getting a restraining order. I just -- I just want to rest."
"The offer stands," Stuart said. "If you need to get away --"
"I'll think about it," Dune said, and drank some coffee. He looked surprised at the taste and looked questioningly at Micah.
"What?" Micah said. "I know how you like your coffee."
Dune smiled and drank more.
"All right," Leo said, "what about Micah? When he goes into work tomorrow Gavin will be there and will quite probably cause some problems for him, but if you have Gavin arrested today Micah won't have to worry about it."
Dune sighed. "What do you think?" he said to Micah.
"I can handle Gavin," Micah said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "If he decides to press charges against me I'll tell the truth: I was taking care of my friend. That will have to count for something."
Dune sighed again and ran
a hand through his hair. "If it comes down to protecting Micah, then yes, I will go to the police, but I don't want to otherwise. Okay? I don't want to make a report, I don't want to press charges, I don't want to be examined, I don't want to answer questions. I just want to rest. Please?"
