8. Mickey

CHAPTER 8

MICKEY

How different his life might look if Mickey had someone like Ethan Bennett instead of his own parents. Ethan was steady like a rock and strong as one too. Immovable like a mountain. Mickey's dad thought strength was shouting, posturing, and beating your chest like a gorilla. Mickey had never looked up to his own dad. He'd gravitated between not being present and being a bully when he was. The only reason Mickey was thankful to have been his son and not Ethan's was the fact that it would have made the massive crush he was developing on Ethan wildly inappropriate.

Mickey didn't want to be Ethan's son. He wouldn't argue with being just Ethan's, but that was a pipedream. Mickey had too much trauma and not enough going for him to be worthy of someone like Ethan. Or anyone for that matter. Mickey needed to get his life together. Tomorrow. Tonight was apparently fire night. A much-loved event by all the Bennett boys and their partners.

Mickey studied the pictures on the mantle. There was a photo of Ethan and his boys when they were little. Ethan was hot even then, but there was something about the gray in his hair and the deeper lines in his face that Mickey liked. It wasn't that he looked old now. In fact, he looked amazing for someone who was pushing fifty. Mickey wondered what he'd look like in twenty years when he was closer to Ethan's age.

The next picture was Jonah and someone Mickey didn't recognize.

"That's Spencer, Jonah's boyfriend."

Mickey jumped at the sound of Ethan's voice.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Ethan held out a thick jacket. "The boys will be here in about twenty minutes. I have the fire going out back if you want to join me."

Ethan held the coat while Mickey slid his arms into it. "Will you be warm enough?"

"I'll be fine." Mickey purposely didn't remind Ethan about his former sleeping arrangements, but the man scowled anyway.

"I know you'll be fine, but will you be warm enough?"

Mickey nodded. "I'll tell you if I'm not."

Mickey pointed at the next picture. "I recognize Colby."

"That's his boyfriend, Milo." Ethan's voice was always warmer when he talked about his kids. "Not to be outdone by his brothers, ever, Colby recently had his own bisexual awakening. Milo is the best thing that's ever happened to him."

It didn't escape Mickey's attention that all the pictures were taken in a very familiar back yard, around the same fire pit that was currently waiting for them.

"And that's Taylor, Nash, and Damon. His boyfriends."

A fierce longing pierced Mickey's heart. He was an interloper here. An outsider. He had a place by the fire, but not on the mantle. Through the goodness in Ethan's heart, he was given shelter and support and it made Mickey feel wonderful and terrible all at once. Wonderful because who didn't want to know that there was at least one person on the planet who wanted to see you safe? And maybe even happy. Terrible because Mickey was greedy. In spite of all the things Ethan had done for him, or maybe because of them, Mickey wanted more.

He knew his crush was a hopeless yearning. Mickey was good at wanting things he could never have, but the knowledge didn't dissuade his heart. Mickey could no sooner stop his feelings for Ethan snowballing than he could stop himself from breathing. He could hold off for a short time, but then he'd end up gasping and desperate. It was best to just go back to existing and not thinking about it.

Mickey took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm ready."

Mickey had never seen the back yard like this before and it took him by surprise when he stepped out onto the deck. The snow had been cleared from the deck and from a large ring around the fire pit. The fire was already roaring and Mickey gravitated to it. Ethan followed him and, like magic, produced a chair. He unfolded it and set it down next to Mickey.

"Sit."

Mickey did as he was told and looked up at Ethan. "You're bossy. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"My kids. All the time." Ethan looked like he might want to say something else, but voices carried over the snow and reached their ears. Ethan paused and looked at the house. Mickey saw the moment he spotted his kids because his expression changed. There was such a fondness there that it was like a gut-punch to Mickey, who'd only ever wanted a fraction of that from his own dad.

Mickey didn't know if he could do this. Could he really sit around the fire with the Bennetts and watch them be a happy family? He was ready to stand and bolt into the house when a familiar form practically shoved Ethan aside and appeared next to him.

"You're here!" Taylor looked at Mickey with a joyous expression. "I'm sorry I haven't been by sooner, but Dad has practically forbidden us. He said you needed to rest and recover and didn't need people here bothering you and being a nuisance."

Someone approached to stand at Taylor's side. Either Nash or Damon, judging from the way they slid their arm around Taylor and kissed his cheek. "That's because you're like a puppy on speed. Cute, but busy. You'd wear him out in ten minutes flat."

Taylor melted into his boyfriend's embrace, but he kept his eyes on Mickey like he thought he was going to escape if he looked away for even a second. Truthfully, Mickey didn't blame him.

Chairs were produced and Taylor parked his next to Mickey. "Has Dad warned you about tonight?"

Mickey furrowed his brow. "No… should I be worried about something?"

"He just means that the Bennetts can be a lot to take in all at once." A hand extended toward Mickey. "I'm Nash."

Mickey shook his hand. "Mickey."

"Nash is a famous author." Taylor went on about Nash's books, some sort of detective series. Taylor wasn't bragging about having a famous boyfriend, Mickey realized. He was just really proud of him. Mickey saw the wonder in Taylor's expression when he talked about all the things Nash had written and how much people loved them.

"Is it going to be awkward if I admit that I've never heard of you?" Mickey felt his cheeks heat and Taylor's other boyfriend let out an uproarious laugh.

"Gotta keep his ego in check."

"My ego is fine, thank you." Nash gave Damon a playful shove.

"I meant Taylor's."

"Hey!"

Mickey watched the three of them joke and tease each other and another group of people came spilling out the back door. Mickey's head swam with introductions as they descended on the fire, setting up chairs around the pit, leaving no space for Ethan to conveniently set up next to Mickey.

Instead, he ended up on the other side of the fire. It was almost better that way because then Mickey could steal glances without anyone noticing. At least he hoped he wasn't being obvious. But Ethan was beautiful in the glow of the fire. Surrounded by all the people in the world he loved best, his laugh rang brighter, his smile was wider. It was like he came alive.

Everyone talked to Mickey. They pulled him into conversation after conversation with questions and anecdotes and at first Mickey had given them one-word answers, but slowly he'd warmed up to them. They weren't asking to be nosy or to get information to use against him, they were just curious about him and they seemed genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

By the time dinner was over, which had been bowls of chili covered in cheese eaten around the fire, Mickey was exhausted and ready for bed. But then Colby disappeared inside and returned with the guitar. He handed it to Ethan, who took it and cradled it in his lap. If he was ever asked, Mickey would flatly deny being jealous of a guitar.

The instrument was magic because the first notes from it made everyone go silent and Mickey was glad Ethan had been forced to sit across the fire from him. He was even more glad that everyone seemed to be staring at him, so he didn't look so out of place. So obvious.

The song wasn't familiar to Mickey, but everyone else around the fire seemed to know the words. Mickey didn't try to follow along. He sat and stared at the way Ethan's fingers moved on the fretboard. He memorized the way his mouth moved when he sang. Mostly, though, he tried to breathe through the intense longing that clenched his heart in its fist and squeezed.

Mickey was an outsider here. And even if he belonged, he'd be one of the boys. One of Ethan's kids, and that's the last thing he wanted to be. There was no doubt about it. Mickey had to get out of here. And soon.

Not yet. Not tonight. Tonight he'd let himself sit and watch Ethan and dream about a different life. One where he wasn't across a fire that might as well be a canyon, or a universe. One where he'd be next to him, maybe leaning on his shoulder or cradled in his lap not unlike the guitar.

Mickey's dick of course chose that moment to wake up. He hadn't had a hard-on in months. Not since leaving Lance, and even then, an erection had felt like an achievement. But now Mickey was so hard he could barely think. He took a deep breath and thanked Ethan for the thick jacket that hid the evidence of his arousal.

He wished it had happened when he'd been alone so he could enjoy it, or at least not worry about it so much. But it felt like everyone would see. Everyone would know. It wasn't logical, but Mickey had often thought there wasn't a logical bone in his body. If there had been, maybe he wouldn't have ended up with Lance. Or at least he'd have seen the signs and bailed sooner. Before he lost everything.

Mickey knew the next song Ethan played. Lance had been a big Oasis fan and the nonsensical lyrics to "Champagne Supernova" were impossible to forget. He tried not to let the song get to him, but music was a powerful force when it came to memories and the song felt like sandpaper on his skin. Mickey tried to sit still, but the familiar anxiety of Lance's glaring disapproval bore down on him, crushing him. Compressing him into a speck of insignificant dirt. Something easily discarded. Forgotten. Unimportant.

The song cut out abruptly and another one started to play instead. No one commented on the sudden change, but a foot bumped Mickey's and he looked over at Taylor, who mouthed the question, asking if he was okay.

Mickey nodded. He wasn't. But he would be. Taylor's chair shuffled closer and he put his arm over Mickey's shoulders. Mickey found himself swaying back and forth with Taylor, who sang along with whatever song it was.

Ethan played a few more songs before stopping and pulling his gloves back on. It was like the music ending broke the spell. Everyone started shuffling around and Mickey realized they were all leaving. The chairs disappeared and everyone gathered around, talking and making plans for when they were going to see each other again. For Mickey, it was like being in an alternate universe. Family that actually cared about each other. That liked each other? That got along and wanted to be around each other. It was a foreign concept to someone like Mickey, who'd been tolerated at best and disdained at worst.

"Come by the diner," Taylor told him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He pulled away and looked Mickey in the eyes. "Come inside this time. Dad can show you where our table is."

Mickey nodded, not trusting himself to speak. First, Mickey needed a job. Money. A place to live that was his own. Then maybe he could stand walking into the diner and sitting down for a meal. When he was on his own feet and not existing off someone else's kindness.

That was a problem for another day, though. The immediate problem was that everyone was gone and Mickey had to go inside and be alone with Ethan and all the tangled-up feelings he had for him.