"Definitely bitter." Stuart took Leo's water bottle for another drink.
"I'm not bitter."
Stuart said, contemplative, "When Joelle and I split up I was so angry I could barely function. I suppose this is something similar."
"I function just fine," Leo said. "I go to work. I go out. I have friends over."
Stuart gave him a skeptical look. "Most people move on eventually. You're fighting it at every step."
Leo said wearily, "You're such a good friend, Stuart. I'm so glad you're here to help me feel better."
"I hate to see you moping."
"I'm not moping. I'm grieving. Adam was the best thing to happen to me, aside from Frances and Dune, and suddenly he's gone. I have to cope with it in my own way."
"Your way is not coping," Stuart said and took Leo's water bottle again.
"Sex with some stranger is not going to make everything better."
"You won't know until you try."
"Stop it," Leo said, laying his hand over his eyes.
"Why? It's a way of moving on and satisfying your ego. I prescribe something young and pretty for practically everything."
"No," Leo said. "Really, no. I don't want a random hookup. I don't want a replacement. I'm going to sit back, watch Dune and Micah be together, and get ready to be a grandfather in a few years."
Stuart looked at him, the water bottle paused in mid-drink. "They're not seriously talking children, are they?"
"They are. I don't think either of them is ready, but it's not my decision. I'd feel better about it if Dune's depression was under control, but Micah says he's doing all right, so maybe it's more under control than it appears."
"That Micah-child," Stuart said softly. "He's far too young to be a father."
"I was younger than he is when Dune was born."
"They're both older than I was, too, when Jean-Claude was born. I think we grew up sooner, though."
Leo took the water bottle back. "You should have seen Adam when he was young, Stuart. Curly red hair, porcelain skin, the most beautiful smile..."
Stuart sighed. "If I found you a beautiful boy with big blue eyes and perfect skin, would that help?"
"No. Adam's probably coming to the funeral. He was friends with Malcolm and Jack -- though mostly with Jack. I don't know how to behave if he does."
"You'll be polite, say thank you for coming and direct him to the buffet, and take comfort in the fact that most of the people there like you more than they do him."
Leo chuckled. "That is some comfort, but I don't know if it's true."
"I like you better."
Leo picked at the label on the water bottle. "Nice of you to say so."
"It needs saying."
He looked up to meet Stuart's gaze, and took in it all -- the steely blue eyes, the patrician profile, the fine blond hair starting to turn grey at the temples, the mouth he knew could be as tender as it could be stern.
Without even deciding to -- without thinking about it at all -- Leo kissed Stuart, his hand cupping the back of Stuart's head. Stuart made a pleased sound and turned closer to Leo, his hand curving around Leo's hip.
"What happened to me not being your rebound?" Stuart whispered when they parted, and Leo licked his lips, tasting the water they'd been sharing and the warm flavor of pure Stuart.
"You're not my rebound," Leo said.
"So we're snogging like friends?" Stuart raised an eyebrow.
"Sure." Leo straightened up and drank the last of his water. "It feels late. Let's find the boys."
"Leo," said Stuart as Leo started for the stairs, and Leo turned back to him. "If it would make you feel better--"
"I don't want to sleep with you just to make myself feel better!"
Everyone in the chill-out room stopped kissing each other and looked at him. Leo flushed and left the room quickly, and when he found Dune in the crowd, Dune stepped out of Micah's arms to wrap an arm around him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm an idiot, as usual. Are you ready to go? I'm ready to go."
"Yeah," said Dune, still worried, "we can go. Where's Stuart?"
"Right here," said Stuart from behind Leo. "I'm ready as well."
Dune gave him a look like he didn't know what to say, and Micah interjected, "Okay, into the car, then, kids!" He grabbed both Dune's and Stuart's hands to tug them along.
At the apartment, after they had wished everyone good night, Stuart said as Leo poured himself some water, "If you want me to go to a hotel I will. Though I do think you ought to stop kissing me if you don't intend to do anything further."
"I don't know why I keep kissing you," Leo said honestly.
"I hope it's because you're attracted to me. If it's because you're lonely, it's a lot less flattering."
"I'm not lonely," Leo said though he felt like he'd already lost this argument.
"Then you're attracted to me. Better, though not perfect, as you always stop yourself before it gets interesting."
"If I thought for a second you wanted me on a personal level, maybe things would get interesting."
Stuart looked taken aback. "Leo?"
"I know you like me and care about me, and I know you're here to look after me because you think I need it. Who knows, maybe I do. Nobody's offered to take care of me in a long time so I've forgotten what it feels like." Leo took a deep breath. "I apologize if I've led you on. I won't kiss you again."
"I see," said Stuart. Slowly he nodded. "I haven't felt led on. Only confused and a little disappointed. You're a good kisser."
"You'll get over it," said Leo. "I need to focus on Jack."
Again Stuart nodded. "As you like, Leo. Good night."
Leo said, "Good night," and finished his water, sighing when he heard Stuart's bedroom door close. He missed sex, he wanted it, and he was attracted to Stuart -- Stuart was handsome and dignified, and so casually sexy that he made it look completely effortless.
But Stuart viewed sex as a game, and love wasn't even on the playing field. Fucking Stuart might help with the loneliness momentarily, but it would never replace what Leo had lost. Nothing would replace what he'd lost, and he wished he could make the boys understand. He wished he could make whatever part of him that kept kissing Stuart understand, as well.
Leo finished his water, told himself he could worry about this after he'd gotten Jack through the funeral, and went to bed, ignoring the light from under the guest room door.
Chapter Five
It rained the day of Malcolm's funeral. Sitting behind Jack at the viewing, Leo watched the line of mourners shuffle past the coffin still dripping from umbrellas and collars. Students past and present, faculty from the drama department, couples both straight and gay, the regular company from the theater, as well as some guest actors, the many crew members and support staff -- they all came to pay their respects, and many of them, most of them, paused to offer comfort to Jack.
Jack nodded numbly, not even trying to smile. Jack's brother Charlie sat at his side and did most of the talking. He held Jack's hand, his grip awkward enough to tell Leo this was not something he did often, or probably ever.
Leo pointed out familiar faces to Stuart, seated at his side, and tried to remember all their names. "That's Thomas Reese. He was Hamlet two years ago. His wife is Lydia. I think the boy is Peyton. Or Paxton. One of those. And the woman with the dark hair, that's Carolyn Turner, she's been the ingénue for the company about five years now. Did a lovely Ophelia but her Hermia was terrible, which is strange -- Ophelia's the harder part. The fellow next to her with the blue suit is Enrico Chavez. He's the head carpenter at the theater. The girls behind him are his daughters -- Rosalita and... Inez, I think."
"They're very pretty."
"Rosalita auditioned for the Fool when they did Lear earlier this year. Her audition was stunning but Malcolm thought she was too young for the part, so she's going to be Puck in June. She'll make a great Puck."
"Isn't Puck a boy's part?"
Leo shrugged. "It's Shakespeare. Mixing and matching is tradition."
Ocean and Frances came through the line. Frances had always been a big fan of Malcolm's, and when Leo had decided to stop acting she'd been disappointed, even though it meant he'd be more available to Dune.
After they paid their respects to Malcolm and comforted Jack, Frances paused at Leo's row, holding Ocean's hand, and squeezed Leo's shoulder. "How are you holding up?" she said softly.
"Holding steady." He smiled -- he could always find a smile for her.
"Everything looks beautiful," said Frances, "and the music is lovely."
"Stuart's doing," Leo admitted. "He suggested 'Ave Maria' and I built from there."
Frances beamed at Stuart. "It was a perfect suggestion."
"A little predictable," said Ocean and Frances shushed her.
"We'll be in the back." She squeezed Leo's shoulder again and they made their way to the back of the chapel.
"Ms. Prideaux doesn't trust me," said Stuart mildly.
"Doesn't trust you?" Leo looked back at their retreating figures, trying to piece out what Ocean had said to make Stuart say so.
"The change of cast in the family. They're accepting Adam's absence, but they don't like it, and they think I'm here to usurp him somehow."
Leo looked at Stuart now, still confused. "You got that from one sentence?"
"It's the look in Ocean's eye. An 'I can turn you into a frog' look." Leo was still frowning at him, and Stuart laughed, dismissing it. "She doesn't approve of me."
"If it bothers you I can have a word with her."
Stuart smiled faintly. "It doesn't bother me."
Micah and Dune came through the line, and when they reached the coffin, Dune placed something inside and patted Malcolm's bearded cheek. As they came away, he paused to hug Leo. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
"A little," said Leo. "What did you give him?"
"Mom gave me a picture of you, me and Malcolm she took ages ago. I'll ask her to make you a copy if you want one." He nodded to Stuart. "Good to see you."
Micah saw no need for formality -- he pounced on Stuart, who quietly laughed as he caught him, and hugged Stuart around his neck. "I'm glad you're here," he told Stuart. "You should always be here."
"My roots are in Europe, Micah-child." He kept a loose arm around Micah's waist, and Dune took the empty chair at the aisle, smirking at the way his boyfriend claimed a seat. "Aren't Ben and Jamie coming?"
Micah twisted around to look. "Jamie was in the car behind us. He must have stopped to talk to people. There's nothing quite like a funeral to help you remember how small the city is." He suddenly squeaked and grabbed Leo's arm. "Leo. Leo."
"I hear you, Micah."
"That man, Leo--" He pointed and then hastily covered his mouth with both hands.
"He looks familiar," Stuart remarked as he looked where Micah had pointed.
Leo glanced back too, and spotted the newcomer at once, who was causing reactions from other mourners as well. He knew that face -- had known it even when it had a rougher complexion and trendy 80s hair. "He should -- that's David Campbell." Leo smiled as Micah squeaked again. "The most famous alum of Malcolm's career."
"
The
David Campbell?" Stuart sounded impressed. "Coming all the way here to attend a funeral. What a lovely gesture."
"Malcolm earned all this affection," Leo said.
Micah squeaked again. Dune put a hand on his back. "Breathe, sweetheart. He's just a guy. He puts his pants on one leg at a time, like the rest of us."
"I'm six feet away from David Campbell," Micah whispered, face full of awe. "And he's
gorgeous
."
Leo gave him a stern look. "Behave yourself. This is a funeral, Micah Ferguson."
"Yes, Leo." Micah held himself still with effort, and managed not to squeak when David Campbell, having paid his respects to Malcolm, knelt in front of Jack and took both of Jack's hands in his own. Jack actually smiled at him, something he hadn't managed for most of the mourners. They spoke quietly for a few minutes, and then David knelt up to hug Jack tight.
When David stood he leaned over Jack. "Leo. I haven't seen you in forever."
"David," Leo said, standing, and they hugged over the row of chairs. "I've seen you quite a bit. Sit with us."
David started to answer when Micah squeaked again. "Ignore him," said Dune, "he's just having the vapors."
"Duly noted," said David and took the empty seat at Leo's side. Leo introduced everyone down the line, and David said to Dune, "The last time I saw you I think I dandled you on my knee."
"I've been hearing that a lot today." Micah was turning pink from trying to contain himself, and Dune patted his knee. "Breathe, sweetheart."
"And look at you now, all grown up." David sighed. "It makes me feel mortal."
"Out of all of us," Leo said, "you have the best chance of immortality."
David smiled at him like it hurt. "Film disintegrates."
Before Leo could think of an appropriate response, Jamie stopped at their row. "Room for one more? Benjie couldn't make it today -- too many cakes to bake."
"There's room," said Leo, so Jamie worked his way down the chairs to the empty seat. He and David exchanged polite smiles, and then Jamie did a double take.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like David Campbell?"
"No," said David, innocent, his eyes wide. "Never."
"Don't tease," Leo told him. "Jamie, this is David Campbell, the actor. David, this is James Makepeace, the artist."
It was David's turn to look star struck. "I own one of your paintings," he said, and they were off, talking like they'd known each other for years.
Leo leaned back in his chair. The long line of mourners was finally dwindling, and Malcolm's coffin was filled with offerings like Dune's, pictures and programs and letters. There were two men standing at the coffin, one slim and dark-haired, and the other solid and clasping a hat in his hand. When they turned, the young man holding the older one around his waist, Leo stifled a gasp.
He had known Adam would come to the funeral, but Leo hadn't considered he would bring anyone with him. The young man with him could only be the new boyfriend, the one he'd left Leo for, the one he claimed to love.