by Jenna Jones
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.
He stuck his hands in his back pockets and started making his way through the crowd to the bar. He and Micah could find an empty table upstairs, or even take one of the private rooms if they decided they were feeling amorous. He hoped Micah was feeling amorous.
Someone stepped in his way and Dune moved aside, saying, "Careful, there --"
"Hi, Dune," Gavin said, and wrapped his hand around Dune's forearm.
Dune stopped and swallowed. "Gavin."
Gavin smiled at him with complete insincerity. He'd healed from his run-in with Micah -- there wasn't so much as a new bump in his nose. "Are you here by yourself?"
"Micah's getting us drinks." He glanced around; no sign of Micah returning.
"Ah, yes. The toddler. Well, he's no trouble. He caught me off guard last time, but he won't again." Gavin tugged Dune up the stairs, hand still clamped around his arm.
"Gavin, I don't want--"
"You don't know what you want," Gavin said, not stopping. "I do. You want someone to guide you, someone to make you into a man." He threw open the door to one of the private rooms and said, "Get out," in a cordial, dangerous voice to the men necking inside. They left without a word, one of them giving Dune a curious glance as he passed. Gavin slammed the door shut and pushed Dune onto the long, low couch against the wall. "That boy can't give you what you need," he said as he pulled his belt from his trousers.
"You don't know Micah," Dune said, and cried out when Gavin snapped the belt against his face. Dune's head jerked and he tasted copper and salt.
"Do not say his name to me! The little shit." He knelt over Dune, his knees trapping Dune's arms against his body. "For weeks I've been watching you play house with that asshole. I should've run him down with my car when I had the chance."
Dune struggled to push Gavin off, wishing he'd starting going to the gym sooner -- if he'd been at his full strength Gavin wouldn't be able to hold him down like this. "Don't you touch Micah!"
"I'll do what I want," Gavin said, grabbing Dune's throat. Dune clawed at his fingers, but Gavin's hand was too strong. "And you'll do what I want. Understand? You belong to me. I own you, body and soul."
Micah, I'm sorry, Dune thought, closing his eyes.
"That's right, don't fight it," Gavin said, and Dune heard his zipper open.
The door to the room slammed open and Gavin's weight was pulled off his body. Dune sat up, confused, gasping for air, dazzled at the sudden flood of light. When he could see, the sight was unbelievable: Micah, face a white mask of rage, was pummeling Gavin, his face, his ribs, his kidneys. For all his big talk, Gavin wasn't fighting back at all: he had his arms in front of his face and kept trying to slide down the wall to hide behind his knees, but the force of Micah's punches kept him upright.
It all happened fast: there were Ben and Jamie, Ben pulling Micah off Gavin with a, "Don't kill him, he's not worth it!" and Jamie coming to Dune, holding him tight and whispering, "Are you okay, did he hurt you?" and there was Bruiser, Zebra's head bouncer, and the club owner, Andrew. And then Gavin was yelling something about assault and Micah was crying and Ben was stroking Micah's head with both hands like he was soothing a spooked horse and whispering, "Calm down, calm down, calm down."
"I'm okay," Dune whispered, and laid his head on Jamie's shoulder.
"He attacked me!" Gavin was still yelling, pointing at Micah. "He burst in here and just started swinging!"
"Uh-huh," said Andrew and sat on the couch at Dune's side. "How are you doing, Dunie?"
Dune nodded and swallowed. "Give me a minute," he said, his voice raspy.
Andrew patted Dune's knee and said, "Okay. Let me get it straight, what happened here."
"That little fucker attacked me!" Gavin shouted.
"I heard you the first time, Mr..." He looked at Gavin questioningly.
"Marcus," Gavin growled. "Gavin. Marcus."
"Gavin Marcus. Right. A name I've been hearing more and more often lately. So, Dune and Gavin Marcus came in here, told the previous occupants to leave, and commenced to --"
"We're consenting adults," Gavin said. "We all know what happens in these rooms."
"Shut up," Andrew said pleasantly. "All of these rooms are monitored for our guests' safety. I suspect you didn't know that, Gavin Marcus."
Gavin's face went pale at this, and at Dune's side Jamie snickered. "Sorry," he whispered, and Dune managed a tiny smile.
"So we have it on video that you hit Dunie with your belt and that you choked him and were about to force him to suck your dick when --" He paused, holding a hand out to Micah. "Michael, isn't it?"
"Micah," Micah said and swallowed hard. "Ferguson."
"Micah. Okay. When Micah came in and stopped you. So, as I see it, Micah was preventing a rape."
Gavin's face lost all its color, and Ben, still holding onto Micah, made a sound very like a growl.
Andrew sighed. "Now, Gavin Marcus, every time you come into my club, I get complaints about you. And believe me, over the years I've heard some weird-ass complaints, but you're really starting to get on my shit list. And now you've tried to hurt Dune, who I like very much. He's a good customer: never causes trouble, never skips on a bill, and he's really pretty.
"While you -- well. You don't impress me, Gavin Marcus."
"My family --" Gavin began.
"I don't care," Andrew said, his voice losing its friendly, conversational tone. "I don't care if your family is the mother-fucking Windsors. I won't stand for violence in my club. Now. Bruiser is going to help you get your coat and then he's going to take you outside to wait for the police to come, which should be any minute now. And he's going to turn you and the video tape over to them and give them any information they need. Dune, I should say, will be wanted to make a statement."
Dune nodded, eyes not leaving Gavin, who had clearly just become aware that Bruiser was standing right behind him, arms crossed.
"Let this be a lesson to you, Gavin Marcus. Don't mess with the clientele. It upsets me." Andrew nodded to Bruiser, who clapped a hand the size of a basketball on Gavin's shoulder and steered Gavin out of the room.
Gavin started yelling again: "You can't do this to me! Don't you know who I am? My family has this town in its back pocket!" but then the music was too loud to hear anything more.
Dune exhaled and leaned his head on his hands. Andrew patted his shoulder. "You'll be fine, kiddo," he said, standing. "I've been looking for an excuse to bust that jerk for a while. I'm sorry it had to be you, but at least he'll be out of our hair for a while."
Dune nodded and whispered, "Thanks, Andrew."
"Anything for you," Andrew said and paused in front of Micah. Micah looked up at him with wide eyes. "You did the right thing," Andrew told him gently, and Micah nodded and tried to smile.
When the door was closed behind Andrew, Ben let out a breath and said, "Wow. That was -- wow."
"Do you really think he'll get any jail time?" Dune said quietly.
"If we get a sympathetic jury," Ben said, "yeah, I think he will. Or if he pleads out to spare his family any embarrassment."
Dune sighed. The Marcus family fortune could buy Gavin a lot of things, from a reduced sentence to community service.
"I'm sorry I got hysterical," Micah said quietly. He'd been under Ben's protective arm this whole time, Dune realized.
"Hey, it's okay," Ben said. "I have brothers. I know how it can be sometimes, to just lose it entirely. But you're all right." They looked at each other, serious, and Ben said again in a quiet voice, "You're all right."
Micah smiled and moved out from under his arm, to kneel in front of Dune. "You're bleeding a little," Micah said, touching his face where Gavin's belt had hit him.
Dune touched the cut and looked at the blood on his finger. "Will I need stitches, do you think?" he said quietly.
"We should get you to a hospital, just in case." Jamie brushed back Dune's hair from his face.
Micah was still looking at Dune, hands on his knees, eyes wide and worried. Dune took his face in both hands and kissed him gently. "Let's get out of here," he said, and Micah nodded and kissed his hand.
***
Micah had sprained three fingers, but was otherwise unharmed. As soon as the ER doctor finished bandaging him and the police officer finished questioning him, he went in search of Dune. A nurse had taken Dune into a separate room as soon as they arrived, and it seemed to Micah that there was a lot of activity at his end of the corridor. He knocked on the door and opened it at Dune's quiet, "Yes."
"Hey, Dunie," Micah said quietly. Dune was dressed and tying his sneakers. There was a bandage taped to his mouth where Gavin had cut him, and Micah supposed the stitches were beneath it.
"Hey," Dune said. "Can you believe all this fuss?"
"They're just taking care of you," Micah said.
"I know." He straightened up, hands on his thighs. "I have to wait until they tell me I can go, but it shouldn't be much longer." He held out his hand. "Please sit with me."
Micah went to Dune gladly and wrapped his arms around Dune's waist. "You're still too thin."
"I know. You could feed me more cheeseburgers."
"You don't like cheeseburgers. What did the doctor say about the cut?"
Dune sighed and rubbed his chin. "It probably won't scar much."
"Well," Micah said, "you wanted a disfiguring scar. Careful what you wish for, right?"
Dune chuckled without much humor and rubbed his fingers on Micah's back. "Still going to love me with my disfiguring scar?"
"I'd love you even if you lost all your hair." Dune chuckled again and moved his hand up to rub the base of his neck. Micah rolled his shoulders and tried to breathe deeply. He had to say it: he hadn't been able to stop thinking it ever since they left Zebra. "But if you don't want to be with me anymore I'll understand."
Dune's hand stopped moving. "Why would you think that?"
"Because -- because -- I never thought that kind of violence was in me. But it is, and --" He exhaled slowly.
"Micah." Dune tilted up Micah's face and kissed his nose. "You were protecting me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?" Micah shook his head. "Safe," Dune said and kissed him again.
"Safe," Micah whispered and put his arms around Dune's neck, resting his cheek on Dune’s shoulder.
"Yes. Everybody says they'd do anything for love, but you actually do." Dune held him close, patting his back and stroking his hair. "I love you so much, Micah," he said softly. "Your odd, silly, sweet, ferocious self."
"I'm not ferocious. I'm just -- me."
"And 'just you' is lovely and amazing." He kissed Micah and splayed his hand over his cheek.
Micah let his eyes fall closed and he hummed with pleasure. "You're not afraid of me, Dune?"
"Never. Never, never, never. You know what the difference is between you and Gavin?"
"A journalism degree and about four inches?"
"That, and that you're actually a good person. While Gavin approaches the world as his for the taking and nobody had better touch his toys. I have no idea where he got that from: Laird turned out pretty good. On the other hand you, sweet Micah, are a giver."
Micah smiled and said, "I don't know, I think I can take with the best of them."
"You know what I mean, horny bastard."
"Yes, I know." He smiled against Dune's neck. "I love you, too. And I'd never hurt you."
"I know," Dune said softly. "I know you won't."
"Or try to control you or tell you who you can see or what you can eat or what you can wear...but you can borrow my T-shirts whenever you want. They look really good on you."
Dune chuckled. "I will happily wear your T-shirts any time." He was quiet a moment, fingers tracing Micah's ear. "So are they going to arrest you?"
Micah shook his head. "I don't think so. They would have by now, wouldn't they? If they were going to?"
"I think so. God, I hate this." He sighed and leaned his chin on Micah's shoulder, and Micah wrapped both arms around him tight. "Can't we just make Gavin go away?"
"Maybe after all this." Micah looked up when the door opened and a nurse in dark blue scrubs came into the room.
"Mr. Bellamy, we're ready to release you," she said cheerfully. "Here's your prescription for the pain, and we want to see you in a week to get those stitches removed. Okay?"
"Okay," Dune said, smiling, and then wincing as it
pulled on his stitches. "Ow."
"Yes, be careful with that," the nurse said. "Do you need to call anybody? Is your friend here to drive you home?"
"We have a ride waiting for us," Dune said. "Thank you."
"Sure thing, sweetie," she said and included Micah in her smile, and left them.
"Can we go home now?" Micah said, standing. He folded Dune's prescription and put it in his pocket.
"Yes, please," Dune said, sounding exhausted, and put his arm around Micah's shoulders to lean on as they went to the waiting room to meet Jamie and Ben.
