Ring by Jameson Dash

January 20, 2015

Title: Ring

Author: Jameson Dash

Pairing: Jeremy and Miles from A Terrible Husband

Prompt: ring

The call went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even ring.

“Where the fuck are you?” Miles said as he listened to Jeremy’s message. He was only waiting for Jeremy to get through his spiel, reciting a half dozen numbers where he could be reached. When the tone sounded, Miles repeated himself. “Where the fuck are you?”

Then he hung up.

Miles was waiting at the restaurant, a half empty bottle of wine on the table, an empty basket of bread at his elbow. This was meant to be their anniversary.

Now it felt like a mistake.

When Miles missed dinners, which was, admittedly, often, he always called. Even when he was backstage, a makeup brush in his face and fingers in his hair, teasing it up to the ceiling. He had made that call too many times to count over the course of their relationship. The least Jeremy could do was return the favour.

This feeling was new. Jeremy was suddenly famous, and Miles was still getting used to the new way of doing things. He was used to the paps, the press, and the inappropriate questions.

He wasn’t used to reporters on the red carpet asking Jeremy for music recommendations. He wasn’t used to them ignoring Miles in favour of whatever ridiculous patterned shirt Jeremy was wearing that night.

He wasn’t used to Jeremy missing dinner.

Miles opened Messages on his phone, scrolling up through the last few days of texts. They had been chatting about a trip to America last night. Jeremy’s band was heading out on a US tour, and Jeremy didn’t have to go with them, but Miles suggested they make it an adventure.

He figured it was the only way to keep track of his wayward boyfriend.

Not that Miles didn’t trust Jeremy. He knew Jeremy wouldn’t stray, not with other boys. He might wander afar when they were in a department store or exploring a back alley in a new city. But he usually had Miles’s hand in one of his own.

Miles felt better with Jeremy’s hand in his, their fingers threaded together. After only a few years together, Miles felt weird walking the runway without him.

The waiter stopped by the table, ducking down with that sad and knowing look on his face.

“Would you like to order an appetizer while you wait, sir?”

He had asked before, and Miles had said no before, but he was hungry. And Jeremy was late.

“Something with prawns,” Miles said.

The waiter’s eyes lit. “I’ll bring you a bottle of white to go with them.”

Miles watched him go. Miles could have him, if he wanted him. It wouldn’t be too hard to convince the waiter to step into the bathroom with him.

But it didn’t hold the same thrill it used to. It didn’t satisfy Miles like it once did. He would rather wait for the call. For the man who belonged in the chair on the other side of the table.

He dove into his food when it arrived. Miles was hungrier than he knew.

He tried the wine and checked his phone again. He couldn’t help himself. He sent a few emoji. Let Jeremy sweat, wondering what they meant.

“What’s this?” Jeremy said, coming up from behind, putting his hand on Miles’s shoulder and leaning down to kiss his opposite cheek. “Am I supposed to know what this means?” He showed Miles his phone, open to the Messages screen, Miles’s emoji staring back at him.

“It means I love you,” Miles said, turning his face up for another kiss, a better one.

“You taste like prawns,” Jeremy said.

“See what you miss when you’re late.”


Did you enjoy Jameson Dash’s story? If so, check out the rest of Jameson’s books and take 25% off at checkout with the code JamesonDashFlash. Coupon code is good for one order per customer through February 21, 2015.

2 Responses to “Ring by Jameson Dash”

  1. Shirley Ann Speakman says:

    Cute story I like it!

  2. Charlessorge says:

    “I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers about multitudinous a ‚lan in Aeternum.

    He waved to a unimpassioned hogshead apart from us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court prior to continuing.

    “As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a honourable portion of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bow slung across my back.


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