17. Ethan

CHAPTER 17

ETHAN

Not seeing Mickey had Ethan all tangled up inside. Time and time again he had to remind himself that it was a good thing. Mickey needed to stand on his own two feet. The confidence boost would do him good. It wasn't like Ethan couldn't go and visit, but he hadn't. Not after that impulsive hug. He hadn't even meant to do it, but then he had an armful of Mickey and God be damned if that moment didn't play in a loop in his head.

"Penny for your thoughts, old man." Colby came up next to Ethan and peered over his shoulder. "Smells good."

"I'm just sorry the wind is so high tonight and we can't have a fire outside."

"Eh, this is nice too. A toasty warm house and a big pot of chili. And no one will smell like campfire later."

The campfire smell never bothered Ethan much. Over the years, he'd actually grown to like it and what it stood for. What it represented.

"Seriously, Dad, where are you tonight?"

Ethan glanced at the time. He debated not telling Colby that he had invited Mickey and was waiting for him to show up. It was all he could think about all weekend. He hated that Mickey didn't have a phone and Ethan couldn't call him and make sure he was still coming.

"I invited Mickey for dinner."

"Why didn't you say something? Someone could've picked him up."

"It slipped my mind until a few minutes ago."

"Milo and I got here last, so we're not boxed in. I can go get him if you want."

Ethan was about to tell Colby that they'd give him five more minutes when there was a knock on the door. He hoped the way his heart leaped didn't show on his face. "That's probably him."

Taylor called out that he had the door and Ethan forced himself to stay in the kitchen. He'd never felt like he had to hide anything from his kids before and trying to do so now had him all wrong-footed. He was sure that his every thought was clear as day. One of his kids was going to look at him and know that he had a thing for Mickey.

Not a thing. Feelings. Real, whole-ass, confusing as fuck feelings. Because what business did he have crushing on someone at his age? He was damn near fifty. Mickey was half that, for crying out loud. He'd be better off if Taylor decided he wanted a third boyfriend. Though he seemed pretty happy with the two he currently had. And the idea of Taylor and Mickey together made Ethan want to fling the pot of chili into the snow outside. His hatred for that idea was visceral and irrational. As were his feelings for Mickey.

"Hey." Mickey's voice was soft and unsure and Ethan turned toward it, no longer pretending to be stirring the chili. The chatter of his kids fell away and all Ethan could see or hear was Mickey.

"Hey." Ethan's voice came out sounding a touch too bright, but he pretended that he'd meant to do that. "You came."

"You invited me." Mickey didn't look all that thrilled to be there, but before Ethan could ask him what was wrong, Taylor swooped in and dropped an arm around Mickey's shoulders the way he often did with his brothers.

"Hey, you. How's the new job? Tell me everything."

"It's good. Everyone is really great and Shane has the patience of a saint. But yeah—it's good." Mickey looked around at the packed living room. "No fire tonight?"

"Just the fireplace in the living room. The wind is too high tonight." Ethan usually checked the weather before he set up a fire night, but good weather or not, Tuesday was Mickey's day off.

"Don't worry, the inside fire nights are almost as good as the outside ones."

"They're better if you ask me," Jonah came into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. "No smoke in your eyes. No bugs crawling up your legs. No stinky clothes."

Taylor rolled his eyes. "And Nash calls me a princess." As if summoned, Nash appeared behind Taylor and wound his arms around Taylor's waist.

"I don't call you a princess. You're my princess, there's a difference."

It had taken a bit for Ethan to get used to the public displays of affection between his children and their respective partners, but with the arrival of Nash, Taylor loosened his hold on Mickey.

Mickey gravitated toward Ethan. "Did you need help with anything?"

Normally, Ethan would say no, but he caught a glimpse of something in Mickey's expression that had him rethinking his automatic response.

"There's garlic butter in the fridge and French bread on the counter. If you wanted to cut the loaves in half and butter it and pop it in the oven, I can grate cheese for the chili."

Everyone else trickled back out to the living room and Ethan set about grating the cheese while Mickey worked in silence next to him. He got the distinct feeling there was something wrong, but he didn't want to start prying when everyone was here.

"I'm glad the job is going good." Ethan wanted to slide his face through the cheese grater a few dozen times because of how awkward he knew he sounded. It was stupid to be this fucking off kilter over a guy, but here Ethan was, making small talk in his own kitchen, desperate for any single syllable that would come out of Mickey's mouth.

"Shane's great."

"And the apartment?"

Mickey arranged the loaves of buttered bread on a baking sheet and slid it into the oven. "It's fine. Empty, but that's probably best considering I'm repainting it for Shane."

Ethan ached to tell Mickey that he didn't have to go. That he could've stayed. But he refrained because, really, who was Ethan kidding? Stay and do what? Keep an aging bisexual happy because he didn't have to come home to an empty house and rattle around inside like some sort of pre-dead specter? No thanks. Besides, Mickey deserved better.

"Hey, Mickey, get out here and settle something for us," Colby said as he stepped into the kitchen and was met with a chorus of groans.

"It's a trap. Don't do it. Save yourself." Milo appeared at Colby's side, laughing and squirming as Colby clamped a hand over his mouth.

Mickey looked to Ethan for… what? Permission? Help?

"Don't look at me," Ethan said, giving Mickey what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I bowed out of all their bullshit years ago."

"Hey!" Taylor squawked from his perch on Damon's lap. "It's not bullshit. It's important."

Damon leaned in and said something in Taylor's ear, earning him a scowl. " Et tu, Brute ?" Taylor said to him.

Ethan left them to battle it out among themselves the way he always did and he pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. He arranged everything on the counter assembly line style and ushered Mickey over to get the first bowl. There was plenty for everyone, but Ethan couldn't help making sure Mickey got all that he wanted.

Mickey dished himself up and gave Ethan a soft, sad kind of smile and a mumbled thank you before heading to the living room. Predictably, he sat by the fire and it made Ethan weirdly happy that he'd known exactly where Mickey would choose to sit.

Ethan watched the rowdy group blow through the kitchen in a flurry of activity. Spencer dished two bowls up, one for himself and one for Jonah, who had hung back to keep Mickey company in the living room.

By the time everyone had food, the question they'd wanted Mickey's opinion on had been forgotten. Ethan glanced at the group of them and he sent a quiet word up to his wife about how good they'd done. He didn't often talk to her like that, but every so often he could almost feel her presence. Today he felt her approval drape over his shoulders like a warm blanket.

Pushing all those thoughts aside, Ethan dished himself up and went to join everyone. The only available seat was conveniently next to Mickey, who hadn't touched his food while Colby was getting to his feet and heading for a second bowl.

"I should've asked if you wanted chili," Ethan said it like an apology.

"I do," Mickey said, meeting Ethan's gaze briefly before it darted back down to his bowl. "I wanted to wait for you."

Ethan didn't know what to say, so he said a quiet thank you and dug in. It was almost like being in a bubble after that. Chatter flowed past Ethan and Mickey and every so often someone would try to lure them into the conversation, but neither of them was too keen to take the bait.

And for the first time, Ethan realized that he'd rather be alone with Mickey. He missed their quiet evenings together. The guitar lessons. The way Mickey held his pain close to his chest, but had let Ethan have a glimpse at it.

Predictably, once the food was gone and the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, Ethan found himself with a guitar thrust into his lap and a group of eager fans calling out song requests.

For nostalgic reasons, Ethan played the song he'd been teaching Mickey before he left. Maybe he could convince Mickey to come over for more lessons. How pathetic was that? He was twice Mickey's age and trying to figure out ways to spend more time with him. Maybe Ethan needed a boyfriend. A real one. One his own age.

As quick as the thought entered his head, he dismissed it. Ethan was a one-person sort of man, and right now his foolish heart was set on Mickey. He let his brain go blank after that and he focused on the music he played. Every song held a thousand memories. Each one felt like an old friend. Ethan would've played all night, but Jonah and Spencer both had to leave early. They were teachers at the high school and Jonah had a stack of grading to do.

Colby and Milo left when they did, using the excuse that they were blocking Jonah's car, and if they were going to move it, they might as well move it to their own parking space.

Taylor and his men made their excuses next. Taylor was by the door, sliding into his jacket and boots when he offered Mickey a ride home.

"I'll drive him. It's the least I can do for not arranging for a ride for him to get here in the first place."

Nash looped an arm around Taylor's shoulders and herded him toward the door. "Come on, princess. Let's get you back to your tower before you turn into a pumpkin."

Taylor squawked, indignant, but whatever they were saying disappeared into the night when the three of them filed out the door. Then suddenly Ethan and Mickey were alone.

Mickey headed for his own boots, but Ethan didn't want him to go.

"How about you stay for a while? If you want, I mean. I'll make us a drink and you can play the guitar a bit if you like."

Mickey looked at Ethan with such confliction in his expression.

"Mickey? What's wrong?"

"It's dumb."

Ethan took a step closer. "I promise it's not."

It felt like forever before Mickey spoke. "Could I… can you…"

Mickey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Ethan watched him stare over at the fire and when he spoke, it was so quiet Ethan almost missed it.

"A hug," Mickey said.

That was it. Two words was all it took for Ethan to cross that final bit of distance and he swept Mickey into his arms and held him close. Tight. He buried his face in Mickey's hair and let himself enjoy the way he smelled a little like coconut.

Ethan didn't know how long they stood there, only that he could've held Mickey forever.

"I thought it was going to be just the two of us." Mickey confessed into Ethan's shoulder.

Maybe it was easier to be an idiot when he didn't have to look Mickey in the eyes because the next thing he said was, "Did you want it to be?"

Ethan was suddenly unable to ignore the crackle of anticipation in the air. When Mickey didn't respond, Ethan said his name. "Mickey?"

Mickey pulled away. Only a little. Just enough to look up at Ethan.

And then suddenly Ethan was being kissed by the softest lips he'd ever had the pleasure of touching. He was too stunned to move at first, and then he was pulling Mickey closer. Winding an arm around Mickey's waist, he held him tight, trapping their bodies together. His other hand sank into Mickey's hair and he cradled the back of his head.

God, it was like his whole fucking world shifted sharply to the right and Ethan was just along for the ride now. The kiss went on forever. It was slow and sweet, and mostly tentative at first, but as it built, arousal rolled through Ethan like a slow-moving bank of fog. And when that was all he could see, taste, feel, he pulled away.

Just a little so he could look Mickey in the eyes.

Mickey trembled in his arms. Quaking like a leaf, he clung to Ethan. Ethan cupped Mickey's cheek and watched the way Mickey closed his eyes. Thick lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he leaned into Ethan's touch.

"Say anything. Anything except you're sorry. Anything but that," Mickey pleaded. His eyes snapped open and he stared into Ethan's. "I don't want to be something you regret."

"The only thing I regret about tonight was the number of people in my house when it should've just been the two of us."

It was the truth. And evidently the perfect thing to say, because Mickey's face lit up, making him even more stunning and radiant than Ethan found him to begin with.

Mickey wound his arms around Ethan's neck and smiled as he pulled him into another kiss. Ethan had no idea what he was doing, only that he didn't want to stop doing it.