Something Beautiful (6 page)

Stop thinking about your friend like this,
he scolded himself and turned his pillow over for the cool side.
Things are complicated enough.

Thinking about Micah was much more pleasant than thinking about Gavin, though. Tristan had mentioned, the last time they spoke on the phone that Gavin had moved back to the city but Dune hadn't seen him yet. He thought about asking her to warn him before he ran into Gavin at someone's house or at a party, but decided that would be cowardly -- and would require more explanation than he cared to give.

The phone rang after eleven, which was a decent enough time, Dune supposed -- but he didn't bother to hide the weariness in his voice, either, when he answered. "'Lo?"

"You sound tired," his father said.

"I am tired." He rubbed his face. "Micah's flight was late. I didn't get home until five."

"Aw," Leo said. "You're such a good friend to that boy. Anyway, I was calling to make sure he got in okay and that you got home, and it sounds like he did and you are."

"Yes to both." Dune stretched out an arm and yawned, enjoying the feel of his muscles waking up.

"Did he tell you anything more about what happened with his boyfriend?"

"More or less. Lucas was pushing commitment and -- well. You know Micah. What really amazes me is that Stuart took care of him after."

Leo's voice was gentle. "Stuart's not as bad as everyone thinks he is."

"You say that about everybody." He smiled with affection. "He was horrible to Jamie, Dad."

"He was good to Jamie for a long time first, Dunie. And everybody makes mistakes. Micah did and you like him just fine. Breaking someone's heart doesn't make a person evil."

"I've never broken a heart," Dune muttered. It was time for a subject change. "You're going to the barbeque at the Laird and Tristan’s Monday, right?"

"Yes, I am. We are, if I can get Adam away from his desk. Your mothers are still in Key West, I think."

"Yeah, Frances said they won't be back until later in the week in her last email. They really like it there -- their vacation gets longer every year."

"Yes." Leo paused a moment. "They're thinking of moving there."

"They've been talking about it for years, I'm sure they'll do it someday."

"I mean, after this year is over. Frances didn't get tenure."

Dune sat up and said, "Oh."

"She's put off telling you," Leo said with a sigh.

"Yeah, she has." That didn't surprise him, actually: he usually was the last person to find out anything in his family. "Well, they like Key West. They'll be happy there. And now I'll have an excuse to visit out there more often. I haven't been since I was thirteen, I think."

"That infamous summer," said Leo. "Though I sometimes think I'd worry more if you'd never rebelled at all. I'd wonder what kind of Stepford child we were raising."

"But aren't I practically perfect in every way, Daddy-daddy?" Dune said dramatically, and Leo chuckled.

"Yes, you are, my son. I'll let you sleep. Or whatever you intend to do this beautiful Sunday. Love you."

"Love you, too," said Dune and hung up the phone. He pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms around them, looking at the sliver of half-hearted sunshine that shone beneath the heavy curtains over his window. It would probably be a lovely day once the fog burned off.

That did, of course, raise the question of who to spend the day with. Jamie and Ben, possibly -- they were always good company. If he didn't think Micah was at least as exhausted now as he'd looked last night, Dune would be happy to go kidnap him for a day of debauchery in the city, but Micah was probably still sound asleep. If Frances and Ocean were home he'd be happy to go to Berkeley and spend the day with them: his mothers would spoil him senseless and send him home with homemade pomegranate jam or a canister of oolong tea. But they were still on vacation -- and, apparently, he'd have to get used to them being on the other side of the country eventually. He might as well start now.

Dune was not a solitary creature by nature. He did not consider this a failing on his part -- he just liked people, preferred to be around them rather than not. Friends, lovers, strangers -- it was all the same to him. He could, for example, go to the coffee shop on the corner for a late breakfast and find somebody who'd like to tell him their life story -- that would be a pleasant way to pass an hour or two.

Or he could stay home. Putter. Do some laundry, start next week's column, and if he wanted company he had a PDA full of phone numbers of people who'd say "Me please!" if he asked them, "Who wants some sex?"

Hell of a way to live,
he thought with a chuckle and threw back his sheets. The old floorboards creaked under his feet as he crossed to the kitchen, but they wouldn't be too cold to walk on barefoot until at least, oh, November.

Dune picked up the phone and dialed Daniel's number: he was also always good for a laugh, he'd eat whatever Dune put in front of him and tell him honestly if it was any good or not, and there was a ninety-nine percent possibility of what Jamie liked to refer to as beautiful, long-legged sex later.

Daniel was very beautiful. And his legs were very, very long.

"Hey," Dune said cheerfully when Daniel picked up the phone. "I'm bored and want company. Want to play with me?"

There was a pause, and Daniel said, "I'm pretty busy today, Dunie."

"Oh -- okay. That's cool. Are you going to the Marcuses' barbeque tomorrow?" He leaned against the wall, pulling his pajama sleeves over his hands against the morning chill.

"I can't -- the deadline for the next comic is Friday and I've still got fifteen pages to do."

"Oh," Dune said again. "Well, work's important. Talk to you later, then?"

"Dune," Daniel said, "look. Here's the thing. You're really fun to be with and everything, but it's just that -- you're -- well --"

"What?" Dune said when Daniel paused.

Daniel sighed. "Do you have any idea how many of our conversations have started with you saying you're bored? Eight of the last ten, including this one. It's like I exist only to amuse you."

"Daniel," Dune said in surprise. "You don't. I know you don't. I don't only call you when I'm bored, do I?"

"You also call me when you're horny."

There was no denying that. Dune pressed his lips together. "So what are you saying?" he said finally.

"I'm saying," Daniel said, and there was no teasing in his tone, "I think we should see other people. And I know you already see other people, so I think it's time I see other people, too."

"Oh," Dune said quietly, and thought,
I'm being dumped. Holy shit. He's dumping me right here and now.

"But, I wouldn't worry. You have a dozen people who'd drop everything to sleep with you. You could open your window and whistle and they'd come running. The rest of us have to just work on it a little."

"It's not just that. I like you."

Daniel sighed again. "You like everybody and everybody likes you, so I wouldn't worry about that either. I've got work to do. You'll be fine. You always are. Bye, Dune." He hung up.

"Bye," Dune said to the dial tone and hung up his own phone, his good mood utterly deflated. The arrangement between them had always seemed just fine to his mind: no strings, no expectations, just the two of them when they didn't have anything better planned.

But that was the trouble, wasn't that what Daniel was saying? Daniel was tired of being a backup plan -- and Dune knew he'd made no secret of letting Daniel know he thought of him that way. It had never occurred to him Daniel would mind.

Dune started to reach for the phone again, then put it down and went into his bedroom to get dressed. He wanted to have a conversation in person today. Micah would have been ideal, but Jamie would do.

Dune felt restless enough that he put his car keys away and walked to Bernal Heights, where Ben and Jamie lived in the same building as his father. There were times when Dune prided himself on bringing the two of them together: they'd met without him, but never would have run into each other again if he hadn't decided Ben was perfect for Jamie and vice-versa.

Then there were times when he thought he'd only been a convenient facilitator for fate, and the two of them would have found each other no matter what or who interfered.

No matter, he supposed. He believed love wanted to be found -- but he also wondered why it was also so good at hiding.

He took the creaky elevator up to Jamie and Ben's floor and rapped on their door. Jamie was always in the middle of some project, no matter what time the day or night, so it took a few minutes for him to answer. He threw his arms around Dune once the door was open. "Hi! Come on in, I'm making lunch for when Benjie gets home from church."

"Hi," said Dune and hung onto the smaller man as Jamie pulled him into the apartment. Jamie found nothing unusual in this: they were always clinging to each other. "I wasn't sure you'd be home but I didn't particularly want to call."

"You're always welcome, you know," Jamie said comfortingly and kissed his cheek. "You look tired. Here, sit." He led Dune to the kitchen table. Dune got comfortable in one of the chairs as Jamie resumed cooking.

"I picked up Micah at the airport this morning. His flight got in at three."

Jamie gave him an amused look. "Your devotion impresses me."

"It's not devotion. I just didn't think he should be riding BART at that hour of the night, particularly after he'd already been traveling for thirty hours or whatever it was." Jamie started chopping onions, and Dune inhaled the sharp scent, closing his eyes.

"Longer than any sane person," Jamie said with a nod. "So, how is the lad?"

"Fine. Tired. He loved it. I'm tempted to follow his example now." Dune leaned his elbow on the table and his head on his hand, and traced a line between the knots in the smooth wood.

"Haven't you been to Europe?"

"Never. I've been to Cancun, but that's the extent of my foreign experience."

"Ah, mate, everyone should see London. I'll take you. Show you all my old haunts." Jamie laughed shortly. "Though if I do that it'll consist mostly of, I got fucked in this alley and I got fucked in this loo, and this is where I went to art school. Oh -- sorry, would you like a coffee?"

"I'd love some."

Jamie poured Dune a cup and gave it to him. "I can never remember how you like it -- just sugar, isn't it?"

"It's just sugar and cream," Dune said and helped himself to the sugar on the table as Jamie got a bottle of cream from the refrigerator for him and then resumed cooking. "Ben's at church?"

"Yep. Mass. Confession, I think, too. I like to think it's the highlight of Father Tucker's week, hearing all our exploits since the last time."

"I think the point of confession is to go and sin no more," Dune pointed out.

"Well, we can't help it, can we?" He flashed a grin at Dune. "I'm not that enthused about celibacy, m'self. Sin at least offers orgasms."

Dune chuckled. "Orgasms trump just about everything else, that's true."

Jamie looked at him a moment. "Are you sure you're all right? Do you need to nap a little?"

"I'm fine. It's been a strange day already, though, and I've only been awake a couple hours."

"Oh?" Jamie wiped off his hands with a paper towel, sniffed them and made a face. "My hands smell like onions. Anyway. What's happened?"

"My moms are thinking of moving to Key West when this semester's over. Frances didn't get tenure and I guess they're ready for a change of scenery."

"Oh, Dunie," Jamie said sympathetically. "I'm sorry. They've lived in Berkeley a long time, haven't they?"

"Since I was about eleven, and here in the city before that. I can't even imagine them on the other coast. But they love Key West. They've vacationed there every summer since forever."

"So you'll just have to visit them more often," Jamie said, and poured himself another glass of tea.

"Yeah," Dune murmured and sipped. "What are you making?"

"Cornish pasties. Ben insists English food isn't worthy of further exploration and I'm trying to disabuse him of this notion. He did like banoffee pie, at least."