Something Beautiful (13 page)

"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 shoulders. 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."

"It means we make each other's bad behavior possible."

"You don't have bad behavior," Micah scoffed. "And you always call me on mine."

"I have plenty of bad behavior. It's more subtle than other people's."

"Then you need me around to call you on it," Micah said triumphantly. "Dunie. Just stop arguing and say you want me."

Dune chuckled, wondering why he was fighting. It wasn't that he'd never desired the boy -- Micah was a beautiful creature, sweet and smart and gobbling up life by the mouthful. But Micah was so young and he could be so fickle, and not one of his relationships had ended well. He traced the curls of Micah's ear and said, "I don't want to be your rebound guy."

"You're not my rebound guy," Micah said. "I had a bunch of rebound guys in Europe. You're the exact opposite of a rebound guy." His fingers twisted in the hem of Dune's shirt. "Take me home tonight, Dunie. Give me a chance."

"Gonna keep battering until you wear me down, are you?"

"Yes." He grinned and kissed Dune, not letting a silly thing like height difference and being in public get in the way. He licked deep into Dune's mouth and squeezed the muscles of Dune's back in his hands. "Wear you down and wear you out," he whispered. "Take me home."

"Micah," Dune whispered and nuzzled their faces together.

"Take me home, Dune. Fuck me."

"It's not that simple."

Micah bumped their foreheads together in rebuke. "Yes, it is, if you don't over-think it."

"Like you normally do?" Dune said seriously, looking into Micah's eyes.

"Dune," Micah said impatiently.

"I thought you liked it when I call you on your faults."

"I accept it when you call me on my faults. That doesn't mean I like it." The look he gave Dune was nearly a pout. "Don't you want me?"

"You know I do. I don't think it's a good idea."

Micah looked at him with the saddest eyes in the world and kissed him again, even harder and longer, a hand in Dune's hair and the other at the small of his back.

"Going to win me over with lust, then," Dune gasped when Micah pulled away.

"I'm going to kiss you until you tell me to stop," Micah said in a vaguely threatening tone. "And maybe I won't stop at all."

"Stop," Dune whispered, but Micah was already kissing him, both hands framing Dune's face, that mouth eager and sweet.

"Do you still want me to stop?" Micah whispered, butterfly-kissing Dune's cheeks with his impossibly long lashes.

No,
Dune thought,
I don't want you to ever stop. I want you to kiss me every day.

"You've convinced me," he whispered and leaned his head against Micah's neck a moment. "Let's go home."

***

They stopped long enough for Dune to get his jacket from the coat room. There was no way he'd find his shirt, so Dune decided he would get in from the lost and found some other time. Bits of clothing were always getting left at Zebra, so his shirt would not be the only one still on the floor in the morning.

"Where did you park?" Dune asked Micah as they walked up the hill, arms around each other's shoulders.

"I left my car at your block and walked."

"Good thinking." Dune's voice was low, his breath warm against Micah's ear. Micah felt terrified and exhilarated at once -- Dune, beautiful Dune, and Micah was going home with him not as his friend, not as his protégé, but as his lover.

He traced Dune's cheek and Dune closed those eyes a moment, before opening them again and smiling at him. They kissed as they walked, and Dune leaned their foreheads together, holding his cheek.

Everybody in Zebra wanted you,
Micah thought.
But I'm the one you're taking home.

It made him want Dune even more -- he pushed Dune against the nearest brick wall and kissed him, sucking in his breath. Dune laughed and kissed him back, holding his head and working a knee between Micah's legs. Micah arched into him, slipping his hands under Dune's jacket.

"I can feel your heart," he whispered, and it seemed like the most profound thing he'd ever said.

Dune laughed under his breath and moved Micah's hand to cover the bulge in his trousers. "Feel that, too?"

"I feel it," Micah said and kissed him hard, squeezing Dune just enough to make him gasp. "Oh, I feel it." Micah kissed Dune's neck and his chest, and Dune hugged him close and kissed his head.

"Home," he said and pulled Micah back to the sidewalk. "Home, home, home."

They continued down the sidewalk, arms around each other, footsteps somehow in stride. The sidewalks were crowded, as they always were in the city even at two in the morning, but it didn't matter: they were so obviously together that people cut a swath around them, all the tourists and drinkers and students and homeless and lovers.

Lovers like them.

He buried his face in Dune's neck again and kissed him quickly. "I am so fucking happy right now," he said into Dune's ear.

"As you should be, sweetheart," Dune said. "So am I." He stopped walking again and kissed Micah's forehead, and then pulled him up the stairs into the warehouse.