hurts."
"'Kay. Do you want home, Dune, or back to Jamie's?"
"Back to Jamie's. My car is still there."
"Oh, yeah." Micah got into the driver's seat and Jamie climbed into the passenger seat beside him. He leaned back his head as the car rumbled to life and settled in comfortably for the ride home.
He felt a tentative touch of fingers to his hand, and grasped them lightly. A hand that still seemed too big for the body it belonged to--slender fingers with bitten-off nails--he smiled. This, he thought, is how it's done.
***
"That guy wanted you," Micah said when they were alone. "I could tell."
"You're imagining things," Jamie said as he hung up his sweatshirt. "He was just being friendly."
"I've been checked out enough to know it when I see it." He held Jamie's slipped his arms around Jamie's waist and kissed him. "But you're mine now."
Jamie nodded solemnly. "Right. You've got the key to the handcuffs."
"Jamie. How much do you remember of last night?"
He shrugged and pulled Micah by both hands to the bed so he could lie down. "I remember we got laid off, the whole lot of us. I think there was disco at some point. Cuddle me."
Micah wrapped his arms around Jamie's chest and kissed his forehead. "You--you don't remember what you said."
"I remember I said Phil needed to kiss my ass goodbye."
"In the car you said--oh, never mind." He sighed. "When you've got a job again you should really get some furniture for downstairs."
"When I've got a job again, I will. Hopefully it'll be a job that won't eat up all my time and energy like this one." He looked at Micah. "Are you really going to go to school?"
"I think so. My folks are right: it's hard to get anywhere in this world without a degree, no matter what you actually know. So I'll get a degree."
"Somewhere in the city, yeah?"
"They want me to go to Stanford, since that's where they went. I'll apply to UCSF and San Francisco State. I'll apply to other places, too. I don't want to limit my chances."
"Nonsense." He traced his thumb over Micah's chest. "Any place would be thrilled to have you."
Micah blushed and muttered, "Thanks," and snuggled his head into the crook of Jamie's neck. "I'd love to go to school here--live with you--we'll see." He kissed Jamie's neck. "Maybe--maybe Dune's right."
"He is with frightening regularity, the bastard. About what?"
"About you painting. Being an artist. You're happy when you're making art--if you could do that for a living--"
"Selling seascapes at boot sales? No, thank you."
"There's other ways. Galleries. Um. I don't really know much about it but I know there are people who do. I mean, it's not impossible. Right?"
Jamie sighed and combed his fingers through Micah's hair. "It's not impossible," he said. "It's just--"
"Scary," Micah leaned on his elbow so he could look into Jamie's face. "It's scary. I know. I know from scary." He smiled and leaned down to rub Jamie's nose with his. "I believe in you."
Jamie closed his eyes, deeply touched, and held Micah's face in both hands to kiss him.
***
When Jamie found the business card in the muffin bag, with 'Ben Gallagher, call me anytime,' and a phone number scribbled on the back, he almost threw it away.
He kept it.
Chapter Four
It happened fast. Jamie's house was sold as soon as he put it on the market, and while his resume got a few polite responses there were no offers. The more Jamie thought about it, though, the more it seemed to him that Dune was right: this was not the time for doing more of the same. This was the time for pursuing something he really wanted to do. It was time to chase his dream.
"I've got to be practical, though," he said to Dune as they packed his clothes. "I have to do something to pay the bills until my paintings start selling."
"I like the freelance design business idea."
"So do I," Jamie said, nodding. "I think I'll like doing that. And it's an extension of the fine arts thing, yeah? The art will be for me and the design will be for the
"'Kay. Do you want home, Dune, or back to Jamie's?"
"Back to Jamie's. My car is still there."
"Oh, yeah." Micah got into the driver's seat and Jamie climbed into the passenger seat beside him. He leaned back his head as the car rumbled to life and settled in comfortably for the ride home.
He felt a tentative touch of fingers to his hand, and grasped them lightly. A hand that still seemed too big for the body it belonged to--slender fingers with bitten-off nails--he smiled. This, he thought, is how it's done.
***
"That guy wanted you," Micah said when they were alone. "I could tell."
"You're imagining things," Jamie said as he hung up his sweatshirt. "He was just being friendly."
"I've been checked out enough to know it when I see it." He held Jamie's slipped his arms around Jamie's waist and kissed him. "But you're mine now."
Jamie nodded solemnly. "Right. You've got the key to the handcuffs."
"Jamie. How much do you remember of last night?"
He shrugged and pulled Micah by both hands to the bed so he could lie down. "I remember we got laid off, the whole lot of us. I think there was disco at some point. Cuddle me."
Micah wrapped his arms around Jamie's chest and kissed his forehead. "You--you don't remember what you said."
"I remember I said Phil needed to kiss my ass goodbye."
"In the car you said--oh, never mind." He sighed. "When you've got a job again you should really get some furniture for downstairs."
"When I've got a job again, I will. Hopefully it'll be a job that won't eat up all my time and energy like this one." He looked at Micah. "Are you really going to go to school?"
"I think so. My folks are right: it's hard to get anywhere in this world without a degree, no matter what you actually know. So I'll get a degree."
"Somewhere in the city, yeah?"
"They want me to go to Stanford, since that's where they went. I'll apply to UCSF and San Francisco State. I'll apply to other places, too. I don't want to limit my chances."
"Nonsense." He traced his thumb over Micah's chest. "Any place would be thrilled to have you."
Micah blushed and muttered, "Thanks," and snuggled his head into the crook of Jamie's neck. "I'd love to go to school here--live with you--we'll see." He kissed Jamie's neck. "Maybe--maybe Dune's right."
"He is with frightening regularity, the bastard. About what?"
"About you painting. Being an artist. You're happy when you're making art--if you could do that for a living--"
"Selling seascapes at boot sales? No, thank you."
"There's other ways. Galleries. Um. I don't really know much about it but I know there are people who do. I mean, it's not impossible. Right?"
Jamie sighed and combed his fingers through Micah's hair. "It's not impossible," he said. "It's just--"
"Scary," Micah leaned on his elbow so he could look into Jamie's face. "It's scary. I know. I know from scary." He smiled and leaned down to rub Jamie's nose with his. "I believe in you."
Jamie closed his eyes, deeply touched, and held Micah's face in both hands to kiss him.
***
When Jamie found the business card in the muffin bag, with 'Ben Gallagher, call me anytime,' and a phone number scribbled on the back, he almost threw it away.
He kept it.
Chapter Four
It happened fast. Jamie's house was sold as soon as he put it on the market, and while his resume got a few polite responses there were no offers. The more Jamie thought about it, though, the more it seemed to him that Dune was right: this was not the time for doing more of the same. This was the time for pursuing something he really wanted to do. It was time to chase his dream.
"I've got to be practical, though," he said to Dune as they packed his clothes. "I have to do something to pay the bills until my paintings start selling."
"I like the freelance design business idea."
"So do I," Jamie said, nodding. "I think I'll like doing that. And it's an extension of the fine arts thing, yeah? The art will be for me and the design will be for the
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