Chiaroscuro (27 page)

"And you? Just going to lie there awake for a while?"

"Maybe--or maybe I'll get back to sleep, too." He steered Jamie out of the sun room, back to his bed. "I just want to keep you company."

"Mm, I like company," Jamie purred as Ben helped him take off his robe. He crawled between the sheets and settled against the pillows, smiling when Ben followed him. "I like this company."

"Yeah," Ben murmured as he slowed his breathing and relaxed. It wouldn't hurt to sleep in, when Jamie's bed was so warm and his body so comfortable.

Jamie's hand moved through Ben's hair, slower and slower until he was asleep, palm cupping the back of Ben's head, and Ben was asleep soon after.

Chapter Thirteen

Church and the gym didn't happen but breakfast, walking through a flea market, and a movie, did. Ben found more pulp novels for Jamie's wall and Jamie bought him a bowling league shirt that had "Ben" stitched above the left pocket. "It's meant for you!" he said, holding the shirt up to Ben's chest.

When they returned to their building Ben supposed he should finally go home, but instead he flopped on Jamie's couch. Jamie held up one of his new books to his wall, comparing it to the other covers. Ben said, "Should I get out of your hair?"

"No, you can stay," Jamie said absently. "Do you mind if I work a bit, though?"

"No, not at all." He considered, then stretched and put his hands behind his head. "I could make you lunch."

Jamie smiled at him over his shoulder. "That would be lovely. I don't have much to cook with, though."

"You know the funny thing about that?" said Ben, bounding up from the couch. "I know how to improvise. Comes with the training." He went into Jamie's kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

"I'll need more than cake."

"You'll get more than cake." There were grape tomatoes, raw spinach, mushrooms and baby carrots: he gathered these up and put them on the counter. "You are talking to a fully certified graduate of the California Culinary Institute. I know how to make food that will make your hair curl." He opened the pantry door: canned olives, dried angel hair pasta, olive oil--he could make a fine dish with this.

"Well--a home-cooked meal prepared by an actual chef. Very posh." He popped his head into the kitchen long enough to grin at Ben again.

"Not so posh," Ben said. "Very basic. But tasty. I can promise you that. Spices?"

"In the cupboard." Jamie started into the kitchen to help him when someone knocked on the door. "Just a mo'." Ben hummed in acknowledgment, poking about in Jamie's cupboards for spices and pans.

"Dunie!" Jamie exclaimed when he opened the door, and Ben looked out to see them hugging and kissing each other's cheeks. Dune didn't look particularly happy, but managed a smile when Ben called hello to him.

"Can I talk to you?" he said to Jamie in a low voice. "Privately?"

"Of course--but you can say anything in front of Ben. As he was just pointing out to me last night, we have no secrets."

"None," Ben confirmed cheerfully. "Come and help cook, you two."

Jamie came into the kitchen and pulled out a cutting board from a drawer. "Here. What needs slicing?"

"Mushrooms and olives, please."

Dune leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, his arms folded. "All right," he said and took a deep breath, but didn't speak as Jamie opened the can of olives and drained off the liquid.

Ben started water boiling for the pasta. "What's on your mind, Dunie?" he said.

Dune slowly exhaled. "I had an interesting conversation with Micah the other night."

Ben glanced at Jamie and then back at Dune. Jamie stopped slicing olives. "Oh? What about?"

"It turns out that he and Ryan are not using condoms."

"You're kidding," said Ben.

"I'm not, unfortunately. And when I told him what a bad idea this was he said, 'Oh, it's okay, Jamie used to let me all the time.'"

Now they both looked at Jamie, who still had not resumed slicing.

"Well?" Dune said. "Is this true?"

"Once," Jamie said, putting down the knife and turning to face them. "I let him once. Not at all the time--just the once."

"Once is enough to give him something, Jamie! You know that!"

"Yes, I do! If I had something to give him, which I don't. I get tested four times a year just like it's recommended." He appealed to Ben. "I'm careful. I am."

Ben nodded, fidgeting with the pasta spoon on his hand.

"And you can't tell me I'm the only one who's ever been overcome and--and--and not thought about consequences," Jamie went on.

Dune shook his head. "Never. Not even when I was a teenager. It was drummed into my head just like it was drummed into everybody's back then. Safe sex or no sex at all."

Ben said quietly, "The only person I've had unprotected sex with was my wife, and only because she was on the pill at the time."

Jamie's eyes dropped. "Right. All right. I'm the foolish one."

"Jamie." Dune crossed the kitchen to put his arms around him. "Jamie, I'm upset because I love you. I love you enough to tell you when you've been stupid." He kissed Jamie's forehead. "Anyway, I took the kids to a clinic yesterday. The tests are a lot faster than they used to be--they got the results before we left. Everything's fine, but--" He looked at Jamie seriously. "You really need to talk to Micah."

"I have nothing to say to him."

"Yes, you do." He held Jamie's face in both hands and looked into his eyes. "You need to apologize to him for being careless with him." Jamie sighed and Dune went on gently, "You were showing him how to be a gay man and now, without you, he's flailing. I'm trying to look after him but you really need to talk to him, Jamie. Promise me you will."

"I will," Jamie said. "I'll talk to him."

"Okay," Dune said. He kissed Jamie's forehead again. "I love you."

Jamie nodded and leaned against him. "I love you too, Dunie. I'm glad you're looking after him. Someone should."

"I'm doing my best. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Jamie said and saw him out.

He didn't come back into the kitchen for a few minutes, so Ben went into the living room--where Jamie had wedged himself into a corner of the sofa and was staring at nothing. He blinked a moment and then smiled shakily. "Sorry about that. It's not exactly the way to impress a new lover."

"I don't expect you to impress me," Ben said, sitting at Jamie's side. "And it's been a hell of a long time since someone's called me their lover."

"Naked-time friend," Jamie said and shifted on the couch to lay his head in Ben's lap. Ben stroked his cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You're my naked-time friend."

"That'll do."

Jamie's voice was quiet. "Are you disappointed in me?"

"No. You're only human. I know we always take precautions and I trust you're being careful with any other guys you're seeing. As long as you're taking care of yourself that's all I need to know."

Jamie sat up and kissed Ben, holding his chin in his hand. "I am. The water's boiling," he added.

Ben kissed him back and got up to go to the kitchen. He dropped the pasta into the water and watched it boil, leaning against the counter. Jamie joined him, wrapping his arms around Ben's waist and kissing him. Ben stroked his cheek. "You already impress me, you know."

"Do I?"

"You do. The art, this place, the way you see the word. It's different." Jamie chuckled dryly and Ben said, "I like it."

"Thanks," Jamie said with another kiss. "I like the way you see the world, too."

Ben embraced him around his neck and closed his eyes. "Just take care of yourself, okay? I'm not always going to be around to remind you."

"Yes, Benjie." He sighed. "There aren't that many others, you know."

"I don't expect fidelity from you. That's not us."

"I know. Just. So you know." He moved out of Ben's arms to resume preparing the vegetables. "And I'm sure you're getting plenty at all these weddings you've been doing lately."

Ben stirred the pasta before he answered. The truth was, he wasn't--mostly because he wasn't looking, which was ridiculous, really. He was always looking. It was his nature to look, his choice. He didn't want to be tied down--he'd done it once, found it not to his taste despite the deep affection he had for Tristan, and had no intention of doing it again. None.

Not even for Jamie.

"Yep," he said. "Getting plenty."

"Good. I ought to go out more. Meet new people. Broaden my horizons."

No, you shouldn't, Ben thought, looking at him--and then shook his head at himself. "Yes."

"Good," Jamie repeated.

Ben looked at him, head bent over the vegetables. He said, "Come try this and tell me if it tastes ready to you."

Jamie came to him and Ben pulled out a strand of pasta from the pot. He dangled it over Jamie's mouth, and Jamie first gave him a puzzled look and then smiled and waggled his tongue, chuckling when Ben curled the pasta into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "Tastes fine to me. Tastes done."

"Good. Strainer is--"

"Here, in the cupboard." He bent to get the strainer out and put it in the sink, and Ben poured the pasta into it.

"Okay. Now we sauté the vegetables real quick, get the salad together, and then we can eat." He put another pan on the stove and turned on the heat.

"No red sauce?"

"Just the olive oil. It'll taste good."

"I have no doubt about that."

"It'd be even better if you had some fresh herbs."

"Herbs," Jamie said, pronouncing the H. "H-h-herbs."

"H-h-h-herbs," Ben said and then kissed him. "You English and your weird language."

"Oscar Wilde once said England and America are two countries separated by a common language." He smiled and kissed Ben in return.

"I like to think of us a cultural exchange," Ben said with a nod, and then lifted Jamie up onto the counter. Jamie laughed, startled, and put his hands on Ben's shoulders, inhaling when Ben kissed him--not just a quick peck this time, but a kiss that was deep and wet, and Jamie's fingers dug into Ben's shoulders.

He broke it off and gasped, "We can't cook and shag at the same time. Something will get set on fire."

Ben snickered against his neck. "In my pants."

"Goofball. Oi. Move so we can finish this up. The pasta will get cold."

"Cold pasta is not that bad," Ben said but tested the pan and found it hot enough. He poured on a little olive oil, garlic pepper and dried basil, and the vegetables Jamie had sliced. "Keep this moving so they don't burn and I'll do the salad."

"Toss the salad, you mean?" Jamie said with an innocent expression and hopped off the counter.

"Language!" He handed Jamie a wooden spoon. "Stir," he ordered.

"Aye, sir!" He stirred, eyes on Ben as he washed the rest of the vegetables and put the salad together. Finally he said, "So, after all that you still want to sleep with me."

Ben turned to look at him. "Of course I do."

"All right. Because there's forgiving and then there's desiring and--I just wanted to be sure."

"Jamie." Ben kissed him again, hoping it left no doubt in his mind how much he was desired. If the way Jamie's breath hitched was anything to go by, it worked. Ben finished the kiss with several smaller ones and then lips still against Jamie's, whispered, "I would forgive you if there was anything to forgive. And I will always, always want you."

Jamie looked at him with wide eyes, grabbed his face and kissed him, hard. "I'll always want you, too."

"Fuck dinner," Ben said and moved the pan off the burner, picked Jamie up and placed him back on the counter. Jamie squirmed and started yanking on Ben's shirt as they kissed, trying to get it over his head.

"But I'm famished," he muttered and nibbled Ben's neck. "I need to eat or I'll pass out from hunger."

Ben pulled off his shirt and while his arms were free, pulled off Jamie's as well and licked his chest. He pushed Jamie back, grabbed a fistful of pasta and dropped it on Jamie's belly. Jamie yelped and squirmed more. "It's hot!"

"Aw," Ben cooed and began eating pasta off his Jamie-plate. Jamie was laughing and writhing, arching up when Ben slurped up the last of the pasta. He gave Jamie his best eyebrow waggled and tugged on the fly of Jamie's jeans with his teeth to get the buttons undone. He had to let go of Jamie's waist to work the jeans down his hips, and once he was naked, Jamie wrapped his legs around Ben and pulled him close. He was erect and hot, his pale skin blushing with arousal. Ben licked his lips and gave him a quick glance, and then exhaled a hot breath over the tip of his cock.

Jamie shuddered and he thrust his hands into Ben's hair. "Yes, please," he breathed as Ben started licking his cock with long strokes of his tongue.

"So polite," Ben whispered, opened his mouth and began working it down the shaft.

"I--" Jamie gasped, "was raised--right--Christ--" Ben moaned around Jamie's dick and Jamie arched, supporting himself on his elbows and panting through clenched teeth. Ben took his cock as deep into his throat as he could get it, sucking with all the force he could muster. Jamie chanted his name, "Ben, Ben, Ben," and Ben was glad the walls of this old building were thick. He held Jamie's hips loosely to let him thrust in abandonment, and when Jamie's legs tensed and his toes pointed Ben sucked as hard as he could, rubbing the points of Jamie's pelvis with his thumbs.

Jamie's shout was almost as satisfying as coming himself, Ben thought.

When he raised his head, he wiped his mouth with a fingertip and grinned. "Any doubts left?"

"None," Jamie said, his chest still heaving. He pushed himself upright and took hold of Ben's head to tug him close enough to kiss. "None," he whispered. "None." He grinned and grabbed a handful of pasta from the strainer bowl, and dropped it into his mouth. "Mm."

Ben laughed and kissed him, licking up an end of pasta from the corner of Jamie's mouth. He stroked Jamie's hair off his forehead. "Your eyes are always a different color."

"They're gray."

"They're blue right now."

"They're gray," Jamie repeated comfortably and pulled Ben's mouth to his.