The Colors Between Us

by Kate Hawthorne

  “Can we go now?” Donny asked through his tears.

  “Anywhere you like.”

  Chapter 30

  More Than Empty Words

  Donny handed over his keys and let Roland unlock the front door of his house. Roland guided him inside, never separating their hands. He pushed the door closed and locked it, then leaned his back against it and tugged Donny against his chest and held him. Donny inhaled a shaky breath and settled his cheek over the steady beat of Roland’s heart.

  “I’m embarrassed,” he muttered.

  Roland’s chest heaved when he laughed, “You’ve seen me far worse than you are now.”

  He covered his face with his hands and stepped out of Roland’s hold. He went into the kitchen and filled up the cats’ water bowl, desperate for any kind of distraction. All he’d wanted all week was for Roland to be here, but now that he was, Donny felt nervous and unhinged.

  Pete was lying on the back of the couch, sound asleep, while Jack and Jill were curled up in the cat tree together. Roland set Donny’s keys down on the counter and walked over to the couch. He stood behind Pete and gently dragged his fingers through his fur and closed his eyes. Pete startled, opened his eyes and let out a happy sounding meow before moving and burying his head under Roland’s hand. Donny’s chest constricted.

  Roland stroked Pete’s fur until Pete settled back to sleep, then he turned his attention back toward Donny, still in the kitchen. “Where are your washcloths?”

  “Under the bathroom sink.”

  Roland reached forward and took Donny’s hand and pulled him down the hall into the bathroom.

  “Sit.” Roland pointed at the toilet lid, and Donny sat.

  Roland knelt down and untied Donny’s shoes, pulled them off, then removed his socks. Donny flexed his toes into the shaggy carpet of his bathmat and watched Roland as he leaned over and opened the cabinet and pulled out a washcloth. He stood up and turned on the faucet, moving his hand back and forth under the water.

  He watched Roland with heavy eyes. This had to be a dream— this role reversal between them wasn’t something Donny had ever envisioned. Roland wet the washcloth in the sink, then wrung it out and moved back to squat between Donny’s knees. He unfolded the washcloth and wiped Donny’s face with it, softly and methodically.

  First his cheekbones, then each side of his jaw, his chin, forehead, nose…

  “Close your eyes.”

  He did, and Roland swiped the damp cloth over his eyelids, then cupped Donny’s face in his hand.

  “Open.”

  He did, and Roland’s face was colored with love, and self-loathing, and hope, and regret all at once.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m a mess,” Donny confided, even though it wasn’t really a secret to anyone.

  “I know. So am I.” Roland smiled sadly at him and brushed his hair away from his face.

  Donny was suddenly overwhelmed with his exhaustion. He just wanted to crawl into bed and lie down, close his eyes, and sleep. He was desperate to sleep.

  “Can we do this in the morning, Roland?” Donny asked, pushing himself up. Roland was still on his knees, and Donny dared to graze his hand through the top of his hair. It was as soft as he remembered. He closed his eyes and let Roland’s hair sift through his fingers, and Roland pressed his cheek against his thigh with a sigh.

  “I can come back,” Roland offered, standing and stepping back after Donny took his hands away.

  Donny shook his head. “Would you stay?”

  Roland made a relieved sound and nodded his head. “Gladly.”

  Donny nodded, then led Roland out of the bathroom into the bedroom. He stripped down to his briefs and crawled under the blankets, holding them up in anticipation. Roland stripped down quickly, leaving on his underwear, then crawled in behind Donny. He pulled Donny’s back against his chest, and curled his legs, pushing Donny’s upward as well. He pressed a kiss to the back of Donny’s head.

  “Get some rest,” Roland told him, and so he did.

  Donny wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he woke up feeling slightly more human than he had the day before. Roland wasn’t there, but Pete had curled up on the pillow Roland had slept on and was purring away in his sleep. Donny stretched and rolled onto his side, then dropped his feet to the floor and got out of bed.

  He smelled coffee, so he padded down the hallway and into the kitchen where he found Roland. When Roland heard his footsteps, he turned and smiled. Donny liked the look of Roland in his kitchen, naked except for his indecently skimpy underwear, with his hair all mussed from sleep.

  “Hey,” Roland greeted him quietly.

  “Hi.”

  “You don’t have any food.”

  Donny nodded. “I haven’t been eating much. Athena brings it when she comes over.” He sat down at the table and rested his chin in his hands.

  Roland poured him a cup of coffee and set it down, then poured himself one and came to the table and sat down across from him.

  “I owe you an apology,” Roland said.

  “You’ve apologized.” Donny took a drink of his coffee and savored the bitterness of it before he swallowed.

  “It’s not enough, though,” Roland offered, and Donny raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You deserve more than words.”

  That was true. Donny knew his worth, and knew he deserved far more than what had transpired between them the previous weekend. It didn’t change the fact that even now his heart wanted to explode out of his chest when Roland was around.

  “I know that I’m work,” Roland started, and Donny couldn’t stop the wary sounding snort that left his mouth. Roland cracked a small grin and shook his head before continuing. “I understand that being with me isn’t easy. It never has been, and I don’t imagine it ever will be. But I also understand that I shouldn’t be the one deciding if I’m worth the work or not.”

  Donny took another drink of his coffee and rolled the words around in his head. To say being with Roland was work could be an understatement. Up to now, Roland could be called mercurial on a good day, tempestuous on every other. But that roller coaster did nothing to negate the desperate need Donny felt for him.

  “You manipulated me,” Donny said, placing his coffee mug down to hide his trembling hands. “I told you that I could decide what was best for me, and I gave you my hard limit, and you used that limit against me to take away my choice. And that wasn’t fair.” Donny’s voice came out sounding strangled.

  That was the root of the problem, if he was honest with himself. It was the fact Roland had taken away his ability to make his own choices by forcing him out the way he had. Donny would have forgiven Roland anything, but he didn’t know what to do about this thing. He could easily let it go and let their relationship carry on, but what would happen next time Roland spiraled again. Donny couldn’t live a life of being cast aside then taken back at Roland’s whim.

  “You look like your mind is going a mile a minute,” Roland told him.

  “It is.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  Donny rolled his neck back and stared at the popcorn ceiling, squeezing his eyes closed and taking a deep breath.

  “What’s your goal, Roland?”

  “In general, or right now?”

  Donny inclined his head. “Both?”

  “In general, I’m going to get back into painting. I’m going to keep taking my meds. I’m going to keep working to be healthy.”

  Donny smiled at the last part.

  “As for right now? I just want you to give me a chance to show you I can be deserving of you.”

  His smile shifted downward, and he studied the table.

  “What about what you deserve?” Donny asked him.

  “What do I deserve?”

  Donny blinked back impending tears and replied honestly. “The world.”

  Roland slid his hand across the top of the table and flipped it palm up in invitation. Donny was still trembling, and didn’t trust himse
lf— wasn’t sure if he trusted Roland. But Roland waggled his fingers and smiled, and it was so sincere, Donny took the risk and lifted his hand from his lap and placed it inside Roland’s.

  Roland curled his fingers one by one around the cold skin on Donny’s hand and squeezed it.

  “So do you,” Roland said. He tugged Donny’s hand, and Donny stood reluctantly and walked around the table to Roland’s chair. He pulled him onto his lap and pressed their foreheads together. Donny chewed his lip between his teeth, but instinctively lifted his hands to slide them around Roland’s shoulders. He felt the rise and fall of Roland’s breathing under his fingers, and he closed his eyes.

  “Can I kiss you?” Roland whispered. His breath smelled like coffee as it floated under Donny’s nose. Donny bit his lip harder but nodded, and Roland reached up and tugged Donny’s lip free before leaning in and pressing their mouths together.

  Donny’s entire body shuddered and he parted his lips with a gasp. Roland slowly slid his tongue into Donny’s mouth, as if he knew how shaky the ground they were on truly was, and Donny licked his own tentative way into Roland’s mouth, as if approving the kiss. Roland cradled Donny’s head in his hands and slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss. Donny moaned and tightened his fingers around Roland’s shoulders, pulling their bodies closer together.

  The kiss heated, and Donny followed his instinct, shifting his body so he was straddling Roland. His cock was hardening, and it poked against Roland’s stomach as they kissed. Roland groaned into his mouth and slid his hands down Donny’s body until his fingers were firmly wrapped around his waist.

  Donny felt Roland’s cock jutting upward underneath him, and he moved back, and pulled it free from his briefs. Logic and common sense be damned. Donny was overwhelmed with fire when he was with Roland—this morning being no different—and it was something he had no interest in fighting. He could worry about his heart when they were done. Maybe things would be clearer after an orgasm.

  Donny tugged his own briefs down and wrapped his hand round both their cocks, sliding his palm across the tips to collect their precum, then he squeezed and jerked them both. Roland gasped into his mouth and clamped his teeth down on Donny’s lip, fucking up into his hand.

  Roland wrapped a hand around their cocks as well, his fingers pressing into Donny’s skin and he mimicked the movements. Their mouths never parted— not when Donny’s hold faltered, and he cried out into Roland’s mouth and came all over their hands, and not when Roland used his free hand to grip the back of Donny’s head, completely sealing their mouths together as he groaned through his own orgasm.

  After they both came, Donny lowered his head to Roland’s shoulder and Roland slowly eased his hold on his head.

  “Okay,” Donny conceded softly.

  “Okay?” Roland sounded confused, but he stroked lazy circles up Donny’s spine anyway.

  He nodded. “You can have another chance. We can have another chance.”

  Roland slid an arm under Donny’s knees and picked him up, then walked them both into the bathroom. He placed Donny on the closed toilet lid, then turned the shower on, stripping all the way out of his soiled briefs. He pulled Donny up and kissed the top of his head, then pushed his own underwear down to the ground.

  “Let’s get cleaned up, then I’ll head out.” Roland pulled the shower curtain back for Donny who stepped inside then turned to look at him.

  “Where would you go?”

  Roland stepped in behind him and adjusted the shower head so it wasn’t in his face.

  “Home.”

  Donny’s shoulders tensed, surprised with that answer. Roland slicked his wet hands through Donny’s hair and leaned down to kiss his shoulder.

  “Home,” he repeated. “I don’t have my pills, and I need to feed Elliot.”

  Donny closed his eyes as Roland squirted shampoo into his hand and massaged his scalp.

  “Who is Elliot?” he murmured.

  “My cat.”

  Donny turned sharply and looked up at Roland. “You got a cat?”

  Roland nodded. “I missed Pete.” He turned Donny back around and tipped his head to rinse the shampoo out. Donny closed his eyes until Roland was done.

  “Can I see you tomorrow then? Maybe lunch?” Donny asked. “Can I meet Elliot?”

  “Hmn, not lunch. But yes, and yes.”

  “Why not lunch?”

  “I have an appointment with my therapist at eleven-thirty.”

  And with that, Donny felt like his bones crumbled when the next breath he took seemed like it actually filled his lungs. He wrapped his arms around Roland, pressed his cheek against his skin, and squeezed him in a hug. Donny understood everything Roland told him had been true. He really was trying to get better, to stay healthy— to be deserving. Donny was the one who suddenly felt heavy with shortcomings and faults.

  “What’s this for?” Roland laughed, sliding his hands down Donny’s arms. Donny wasn’t sure how to quantify the mix of feelings he had at the moment, so he settled for pressing his lips against Roland’s shoulder and kissing him.

  “Dinner, then?” he asked, and Roland nodded.

  “Come over tomorrow night,” he whispered into Donny’s hair. “Bring Pete. Let me cook for you. Stay.”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 31

  Create Something Beautiful With Me

  Roland had everything ready. After the appointment with his therapist, he’d picked up some fresh canvases and the ingredients he needed to make dinner. He was by no means a chef, but he could cobble something together with the help of the internet. He vividly remembered the times Donny made sure he was fed and taken care of, and it was his chance to repay the favor. He also knew Donny hadn’t done those things with the expectation of any return beyond the time they shared, but he deserved the same level of care.

  Roland opened the oven and pulled the foil off the dish of macaroni and cheese, then closed it again just as there was a knock at the front door. He knew it was Donny, and he felt a brief surge of adrenaline. He hadn’t seen him since Sunday morning after their shower, when he’d gotten dressed and kissed Donny goodbye before heading back home. Elliot was as happy as a cat could be upon his return, allowing Roland to scratch him between the ears for almost a minute before he disappeared into another room.

  Roland opened the door for Donny, standing rather awkwardly in the hallway holding a cat carrier. Pete was inside, mewling like mad. Roland chuckled and let them both in.

  “Hey.” Donny’s voice was soft, and timid— nothing like the Donny he was familiar with. Roland hated this new tension, but recognized it was his doing. He fought his mind as it tried to beat him down with feelings of worthlessness and doubt that lurked just below the surface, and he forced a smile.

  “Elliot is… somewhere. I’m sure if you let Pete out, they’ll find each other.”

  Donny chuckled as he opened the carrier. “They’ll either get along great or the whole night will be a disaster.”

  Roland wasn’t sure if he was talking about them or the cats.

  Pete jumped off the kitchen counter and disappeared toward the studio.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Roland asked.

  “What do you have?”

  Roland exhaled a laugh, “The usual.”

  “Water’s fine.”

  “Good. You know where the glasses are. Stop acting like a stranger,” Roland told him, before amending, “please.”

  Donny nodded and walked around to the cabinet by the sink and removed a glass which he filled from the tap.

  “It smells really good.”

  “It’s just macaroni and cheese.”

  “Don’t start that again,” Donny chided.

  Roland sat down on the couch and Donny walked around and sat beside him, not quite touching.

  “Don’t start what?” He turned on the couch so their knees bumped.

  “Disparaging what you have to offer.” Donny looked down and picked at an imaginary piece
of cat hair on his knee.

  Roland’s lip tipped up in a smile before he gave Donny a small nod. “You’re right. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

  Donny chuckled, and Roland pushed off the couch and walked back into the kitchen. He served up two plates of macaroni and cheese and pulled some squash out of a pot he’d used to steam it on the back burner of the stove.

  After a few bites, Donny spoke up, “So, therapy?”

  “The day after,” Roland cleared his throat. “After we fought. I trashed the studio again. And I felt like shit, worse than before. I don’t know why I did it, why I called the doctor I mean. I was just tired, I guess.” There was a silence before Roland added, “I wasn’t sure if the medication was enough.”

  “I’m proud of you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

  “It wasn’t. It’s not. But she’s trying to help.”

  “Did she show you the thing?” Donny asked, simulating the tapping on the side of his hand.

  “The tapping is supposed to help.”

  “Does it?”

  “So far.”

  “I think that’s all anyone can ask for.” Donny smiled and took a drink of water, and another silence stretched between them. Roland wanted to crawl out of his skin.

  “I hate this,” he blurted out.

  Donny’s head snapped up. “Hate what?”

  “This tension between us. This awkwardness. It wasn’t even like this when we just met. It’s only been a week and I feel like you’re more of a stranger now than you ever were before.”

  “It’ll just take time,” Donny whispered. Roland could see the hurt etched across his face, even though he tried to hide it with a downcast stare. Roland clenched his fists and counted backwards from ten to give him time for his breathing to normalize. This was his fault. The unrest between them, the pain that floated across the surface of Donny’s eyes— it was Roland’s doing. Donny had been there when he needed someone, and Roland had to find a way to offer the same steadiness in return.

  “Come on,” he said, pushing his chair back from the table and standing. He extended a hand down to Donny, and he did his best to blink back the hurt before sliding his hand into Roland’s grip.