Beats of the Heart - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

A couple of weeks had passed since their time at Aura, and they had to place their mutual desire on hold. Shawn had often found himself stuck in the office, carrying out his plan for Eclipse, while Miles had started working more on his turntables. Ever since seeing Trickshot in his studio, he had become worried. He deleted everything that was in progress and the planned setlist no longer appealed to him, so he started over.
He was still tired from the late hours he had put into his studio. He wanted to stay in bed and ignore the world for a few more hours.
Against his better judgment, he picked up his phone and saw several text messages waiting for him. He laughed at the ones that streamed in from Phase and typed a quick reply. He then moved to the next unread message.
Shawn: So, remember that favor you owed me?
Miles grinned as he sent a response.
Miles: Vaguely. Remind me again?
Miles' phone rang with a Facetime call. He felt his breath hitch when he realized it was Shawn. He ran his hand over his face, hoping that he was presentable. He looked down, realizing he was just covered with his sheet and was very naked underneath. He bit his lip and leaned back against his headboard, ensuring his lap was covered, and answered the call.
"Miss me already?" Miles asked. His voice was still heavy with sleep and gravelly.
Shawn's hair was damp from a shower, and he wore a thin undershirt. He stilled as he took in Miles' appearance and his eyes were heated.
"Did the screen freeze?" Miles asked with a chuckle.
Shawn groaned and ran his hand over his mouth. "Give a man a warning if you answer like that."
Miles tilted his head a little and feigned confusion. "What do you mean?"
Shawn shook his head, and Miles noticed a light blush on his cheeks. "Half naked and... damn... did you just wake up?"
Miles grinned. "I did just wake up. I had a late night."
Shawn coughed. "Were you going to the studio today?" Miles could tell that he was trying to be calm about it, but the way he ran his fingers through his hair multiple times showed that he was affected by Miles' appearance.
"Phase is done with his part, and I'm giving Flux a break today, so I hadn't planned on it."
"Ah, that makes sense." Shawn smiled.
Miles raised an eyebrow, feeling that Shawn was beating around the bush. "So, tell me about this favor."
Shawn grinned. "Let me take you out for lunch."
Miles was about to complain that Shawn wasn't answering but paused when Shawn put his phone on the counter and stepped away. He was still in fame but further away and slipping on a button-up shirt.
"Lunch. Right... I can stop by your office," Miles stammered out, entranced by the way Shawn moved.
"How about I pick you up instead? 11:00 works?"
Miles bit his bottom lip. "Yeah. That works."
Shawn turned back to the phone as his fingers were deftly fastening his buttons. He caught him watching him and smirked. "You have a thing for suits?"
"Suits look tortuous," Miles said without concealing how he was ogling him. "Perhaps you should take it off."
"As much as I would enjoy that, some of us can't lay around half-naked all day," Shawn chuckled as he finished with the last button.
Miles grinned. "You've mentioned my lack of clothing twice."
Shawn shook his head with a laugh and knotted his tie around his neck. He leaned against the counter. "Have I?"
"You have, and it's mighty bold of you," Miles said, his grin spreading.
"Bold?"
"Bold of you to assume I had any clothes on at all." Miles winked.
Shawn's mouth fell open, and Miles could see his eyes darken.
Miles' smile grew. "I'll see you soon."
He disconnected the call while Shawn was still frozen on the screen. He laughed as he leaned back against the headboard. This side of himself was foreign. He had to forge ahead with his head down for so long to survive. But suddenly, with Shawn in his life and everything else clicking into place, he felt a sense of calm. He could now tease others and have a little more fun than he allowed himself before.
Miles had spent a while preparing for his lunch date, a smile remaining on his face. He had trimmed and shaped his growing beard. His hair was now longer, steering away from his usual buzzcut, and his curls started to reveal themselves.
He knew that Shawn was in a suit, so he dressed in grey chinos and a cream cashmere sweater. When the doorbell rang, he opened the door to find Shawn as handsome as ever. A coat was pulled tight around him, and his cheeks were red from the cold.
"Well, damn," Shawn said as his eyes looked Miles up and down.
"Is that a good damn or a bad damn?" Miles asked with a chuckle.
"Torn. I was wondering if you would be in the same outfit this morning. But this is also sexy as hell."
Miles let him inside the house. "I admit that I wear a bedsheet well."
Shawn groaned. "You're going to be the death of me."
Miles laughed and led him to the kitchen. "Coffee before we go?"
"Sure, sounds great," Shawn agreed and took a spot at the island while Miles brewed them both cups of coffee.
"So tell me about this favor," Miles urged. "Should I remind you of my conditions?"
"Nothing illegal and nothing that will harm your business." Shawn recounted. "Honesty, I planned on using the favor to lure you out for lunch and then something cheesy like a museum or something."
Miles chuckled. "You could have just asked me like a normal person."
"Where's the fun in that?" He huffed playfully. However, his smile faltered when his phone chimed. He checked his phone and sighed. "These two," he muttered.
"Everything okay?" Miles asked.
"I may have been a little careless with my words," Shawn said, and a blush stained his cheeks.
"Careless?" Miles placed a mug of coffee in front of Shawn.
Shawn tapped his fingers nervously. "I may have mentioned to my parents that I was seeing someone—you, specifically," he tacked on as if frightened Miles would misunderstand. "Now I'm dealing with their 20 questions. Why I taught them how to text is beyond me."
Miles gave him a coy look while still looking down at his phone. "So, we're seeing each other?"
Shawn flinched and jerked his head up, revealing a slight panic. "I know we never talked about being together officially, so I was a little premature, but my mom was on another rant about my age and settling down last night, and it slipped out. And then I may have mentioned my plan to take you out today, so now I have more questions about my... uh... boyfriend?"
Humor danced in Miles' eyes as he saw Shawn stumble over his words. He couldn't help the wave of jubilation when he heard Shawn refer to him as his boyfriend, even if he seemed unsure of the label.
"Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?"
Shawn ran a hand through his hair. "Shit. I'm never this clumsy with my words," he admonished himself and sighed heavily. "Yes. I want to date you. Have a relationship with you—if that's something you're interested in."
"I would like that," Miles said with a wide smile. He felt an unfamiliar giddiness welling inside his chest, and it bubbled into a laugh.
"Why are you laughing?"
Miles waved his hand. "I'm not used to getting what I want without a fight, so I was preparing to spend months to win you over. I didn't think it would happen so easily."
Shawn gave Miles a wry smile. "Easy? You've haunted me for years. You've made me search bars and streets just for another encounter. I'm used to sure things, but you made me rely on improbabilities and chance. There was nothing easy about finally having you."
Miles leaned in and gave Shawn a chaste kiss. It was a long journey for them, filled with regrets and countless nights wondering 'what if.' But the moment they had reconnected, everything fell into place. They were seamless, nearly effortless.
Shawn pulled him between his knees and deepened the kiss, desiring more. However, his phone chimed again. Still holding Miles close, he checked his phone again, and a worried look crossed his face.
"What's wrong?" Miles asked.
"My dad asked to drop off some soup if I can. My mom's having a bad day," he said quietly. "If it were anything other than my mom, I would assume it was a ploy to meet you."
"What do you mean she's having a bad day?"
"Her immunotherapy messes with her," he said, his shoulders sagged.
Miles had cared for his mom long enough to know exactly what that meant. "How bad is it?"
Shawn weighed his answer for a moment and finally responded. "2nd stage breast cancer. We caught it early enough that they are optimistic with surgery and immunotherapy."
"But immunotherapy is rough on the body," Miles added. He kissed Shawn's cheek. "I've seen what it does to a person."
He pulled Shawn up from the chair and to his kitchen before he started to rummage through his pantry and fridge.
"What are you doing?" Shawn asked.
"We are going to make some soup. Got the perfect recipe. Ginger for nausea, turmeric and garlic for her immune system." He said as he pulled out the ingredients. "When I have more time, I'll make a hearty bone broth and handmade noodles, but for now, this will do in a pinch."
"Seriously?" Shawn asked in a broken voice.
Miles pulled off his sweater and laid it on the couch. "Of course. This always did the trick for my mom when she was sick."
They spent the next hour moving around in the kitchen, and Miles had to marvel at how tranquil it was to have Shawn in his space. They shared small touches and idle conversations that held more meaning than Miles any experience he had before with another lover.
Shawn watched Miles tighten the lid on the container that held the soup. "You're more than welcome to come with me. I'll take you out after we drop off the soup."
Miles paled a little. "I... uh... don't do well with parents. Not the best track record. I mean, they look at me and assume the worst, especially if they see the tattoos. God. I don't think my sweater hides all my tattoos." He grabbed his sweater from the couch and held it up to see if it lacked coverage. He turned back to Shawn with a terrified look. "Parents don't like someone like me. Look at my father—he hates me and tries to pit my half-brothers against me. God knows what he says about me in polite society—if I am ever brought up at all. I'm really kept as a dirty secret."
Shawn reached out to Miles, grabbed his chin, and brushed his thumb along his bottom lip, making his stammering fade.
"You're not obligated to do this, Miles," Shawn said gently. "I can pick you up later if that works for you."
Miles sighed. His protests were wavering. Shawn had never pushed him. Everything was a suggestion or an offer. He respected Miles in that regard, allowing him to make his own decisions.
"I just don't think I'm the kind of person they expected you to be with."
Shawn raised an eyebrow. "They expect me to be with someone that makes me happy—at least, that's their hope for me. I have brought some questionable dates home before."
Miles gestured at his tattoos. "I think I fit the bill for questionable."
Shawn traced Miles' tattoos up his arms. "Tattoos of this caliber are costly, so you must have a steady income and budget. You also have to have the knowledge and do research to find a reputable place with a skilled artist. Additionally, it takes patience and tolerance to sit still for an extended period. Your tattoos highlight your assets, not hinder you. Only the ignorant would find you questionable."
Miles groaned and rested his head on Shawn's shoulder. "Stop being so nice."
"Are you sure I'm being nice? We're new, and I just asked you to meet my parents."
"I finally found a fault in Shawn Pierce," Miles chuckled and then looked coyly at Shawn. "Tell me about your questionable dates."
Shawn laughed. "I'm not proud of some of my decisions. Somehow I tend to attract narcissists and gold diggers."
It made sense those were the people Shawn would attract through no fault of his own. Dating fucking sucked sometimes.
"I'm sure there were some genuine people," Miles said, hoping to placate him.
Shawn shrugged. "Nothing worth keeping around. I found myself mostly going on dates with hopeful actors and singers who thought I could give them their big break. And a few felt they needed to show me their skills at the most inappropriate times. Nothing quite like an opera singer belting out Music of the Night in the bathrooms of a bar."
"I'm sure the acoustics were ideal," Miles laughed.
Shawn groaned from the memory. "It was a mess. I stopped trying the dating scene after a while and chose to go to events with friends or people who did not expect a relationship. This, of course, prompted my parents to start worrying about my love life."
Miles sighed again. "You think they'll be okay with me?"
Shawn cupped his cheeks lightly and forced him to look up at him. "You just spent an hour making soup for a woman you didn't know. That alone will win them over. But more importantly, they just want me to be happy, and you make me pretty fucking happy."
Miles flushed. "Sap... Fine. I'll go. But if things go sideways, I'm putting all the blame on you."
Shawn laughed. "Deal."
Miles pulled on his sweater again and fussed at his sleeves before pulling a peacoat over his shoulders.
Shawn wrapped an arm around Miles' waist and led him to his car. Miles couldn't help himself and teased him about being a gentleman when he opened the car door for him. Shawn only laughed and then let him pick the music for the ride.
They both became nervous when they approached Staten Island. Miles released a long breath. "Should I avoid any conversation topics? What will get me chased out of the house?"
Shawn laughed. "Just be yourself. They'll love you."
"Being myself includes an unhealthy dependence on the word 'fuck', sexual innuendos, and random music trivia," Miles said with a groan. "And I have enough sarcasm to make a therapist run for the hills."
Shawn reached over and took his hand. "You're also intelligent, patient, and incredibly charming."
"Stop trying to butter me up," Miles mumbled.
Shawn pulled into a long driveway, and Miles bit back a gasp when he saw the house. He thought the Andersons lived well, but it was nothing compared to the Pierce's estate.
They both exited the car, and Miles clasped Shawn's hand tightly.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Shawn asked.
"Yeah. Fine," he responded with a tight voice.
Shawn gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he led him inside. Miles was surprised that he simply walked into the house. Typically, Miles was required to ring the Anderson's doorbell and wait for the household staff to open the door.
Miles looked around the large house. It wasn't a sprawling lavish manor that screamed unnecessary luxury. It was cozy. Warm colors on the walls, beautiful wood floors, and it was decorated with family pictures and knick-knacks. This was a place that was lived in.
He could hear soft music playing in the house and the sound of laughter, and he found himself relaxing.
Shawn was leading him through the house, but Miles stopped dead in his tracks as he looked into a room.
"Well, fuck me sideways," he murmured.
Shawn turned to see what made him stop and smiled, knowing that Miles would love this room. "Did you want a closer look?"
Miles excitedly pulled Shawn inside. "That's one of Eric Clapton's guitars," Miles pointed to the Stratocaster.
He looked at the other guitars in glass cases hung on the wall. "That's one of his Gibsons," he said as he pointed to another. He stopped by several others, mentioning the artist who played it.
He appreciated some of the other items, mentioning a few odd facts about the artists. His excitement made him forget that Shawn probably knew everything he was saying, and hesitated momentarily. However, Shawn's smile encouraged him to continue.
Miles stepped in front of another display, and he faltered. He placed a hand over his mouth, and his eyes widened as he stared at a blue and gold trumpet.
"That's one of Miles Davis' Moon and Stars trumpets," his voice was practically reverent. "I thought it was in Michigan."
"I'm sure it was," Shawn said. "You're a fan of Miles Davis?"
"One of the staples in my house while growing up. Who do you think I was named after?" Miles released a content breath, still gazing fondly at the trumpet. "This room is better than any museum I have been to."
"I appreciate the compliment," a voice sounded behind them, making Miles flinch.
Miles spun toward the newcomer and knew exactly who he was. The man looked just like Shawn but with white hair and more wrinkles around his eyes. A pair of glasses were balanced on his nose, and he wore a small smile.
"Mr. Pierce," Miles started and held a hand toward Shawn's father. "My name is Miles."
Ray shook his hand with a broad smile. "I didn't think Shawn would bring you over so soon. I have so many questions."
He pulled Miles along, causing Miles to flash a terrified look back at Shawn.