Roland was still seeing his therapist every week, and after his most recent visit, she’d tried to delve into his unresolved feelings about the end of his relationship with Cody, but he was having none of it. The last time he’d thought about Cody had been before Donny came back to him, and he refused to even risk the mental backslide.
He’d long maintained he didn’t need a therapist. The medication historically was enough to keep him in a good place most of the time, but she’d helped when she shared coping mechanisms and showed him how to identify his triggers. His interest in therapy had never centered around rehashing past hurts.
When he arrived home, he felt on edge. He’d counted, and he’d tapped, but was struggling to squash the feelings his therapist had unintentionally churned. Donny was already there, sitting on the couch playing with Pete and Elliot. The cats, as it turned out, got along splendidly. He looked over his shoulder when Roland walked in and smiled. Roland tried to force the appropriate smile back, but could tell he’d failed when Donny faltered.
“What’s wrong?”
Roland gritted his teeth. “Nothing’s wrong.” He stomped into the studio and started squirting paint onto a clean palette, hoping to make some progress on his current piece.
Donny rapped his knuckles softly on the open door. Roland looked up and narrowed his eyes.
“Come on,” Donny coaxed. “Talk to me.”
Roland dropped the tubes of paint and threw his hands up. “What do you want to talk about?”
Donny angled his head backward and raised his eyebrows. “I want to talk about what’s got you so fucking salty today, to start with.”
“Salty?” Roland scoffed.
“Salty.” Donny leaned against the open door and crossed his legs at the ankle. He looked amused, and that infuriated Roland.
“You think it’s funny?”
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t even know what’s bothering you.” Donny took a step into the room. “I assume therapy did not go well today.” Donny kept walking and pushed Roland’s art supplies around, making a clear space on the large work table, then hopped up and sat down.
“I’m not going to go see her anymore,” Roland declared.
“That seems rash.”
“It’s not your decision!” He bellowed, and Donny crossed his arms over his chest. The level of casualness he was exuding right now was making Roland angrier with every passing moment. He knew he didn’t even have a reason to be angry. Donny hadn’t done anything wrong at all. He’d just asked how Roland’s day was.
He didn’t do anything wrong.
No one had done anything wrong.
Roland wasn’t sure he could stop his mind from retreating into itself, but he needed to try. He closed his eyes and counted back from ten. When he reached zero, he opened his eyes and found Donny sitting on the table with the exact same look he’d had on his face before Roland started counting.
“So, you’re not going to see her anymore?” Donny asked, and Roland squeezed his eyes closed in response and counted back from ten again. When he reached zero, he answered.
“I don’t need to go back through every failure I’ve ever had. I don’t need to pay someone for that. I can do it quite well on my own.”
“How’s the counting working?”
Roland glared at him. “How do you know I’m counting?”
“The ten second silences?” Donny smirked.
“You’re not fucking helping me at all, Adonis.” Roland growled, his voice louder than speaking volume, but lower still than his earlier yell.
Donny slid off the table and walked over to Roland, wrapping his arms around his waist. Roland’s arms hung at his sides.
“Now you,” Donny encouraged, wiggling his hips from side to side so they bumped Roland’s hands. He sighed and dug his fingers into Donny’s hips. “See? Isn’t that nice?”
Roland closed his eyes, and counted back one last time, and dug the tips of his fingers into the fabric of Donny’s shirt. Donny just held him while he counted and breathed a slow and steady rhythm against his chest.
The tension left Roland’s shoulders and his grip on Donny’s hips loosened. Donny pressed a kiss against his shoulder and took a step back. His casual smugness from earlier was gone, his face now downcast and tender.
“Do you want me to go?” Donny asked, shoving his hands in his back pockets. Donny was staring intensely at a point on the floor Roland couldn’t find any fault with and he refused to look up at him.
“What?”
Donny glanced up. “The last time you got like this was my birthday. I just figured you would want me to go like before.”
Roland’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline and his mouth opened in shock.
“Go?” He was disbelieving. “Adonis. Donny. I never want you to leave.”
Donny finally looked up, his head cocked to the side in question.
“I want you here with me. Always.”
Donny stepped backward and bumped into the table. He wrapped his fingers around it and Roland saw the white of his knuckles as he gripped the edge.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, stay. Move in. Whatever. I don’t want to wake up another morning without you.”
“You just don’t want me to have anywhere to go when you get like this,” Donny chuckled.
Roland boxed him in. “Even when I get like this, you don’t want to go anywhere anyway, do you?”
Donny shook his head.
“Then don’t.”
Donny raised his hands toward Roland’s chest and flattened them, sliding them down to his abs and around his waist.
“You don’t fix things. But I feel better when I’m around you. I feel more me around you,” Roland admitted, letting go of the table and wrapping his arms around Donny’s shoulders. Donny looked up, then tugged Roland’s hair so he looked down. Their eyes met, and Roland’s breath caught in his throat.
He hoped there wouldn’t ever be a day when he looked at Donny and wasn’t completely awestruck by the vibrant blue of his eyes. Roland swallowed, and lowered his head until their lips met.
“I’m sorry,” Roland murmured. “I know my anger was misdirected earlier. I know it.” He pulled back slightly to ensure Donny could see his face. “I know it, and I tell myself that, but my mind won’t listen. It doesn’t listen.” Roland’s voice climbed up an octave and he felt his body tightening again with tension.
Donny cupped Roland’s cheeks in his hands and silenced him with another kiss. His tongue licked into Roland’s mouth and danced behind the backs of his teeth and he leaned in closer, taking, and taking, and taking whatever Roland would give him.
Donny separated their mouths to take a breath. “Roland, all I’ve ever asked of you is that you try. That’s all I’ll ever ask.” He kissed him again, a chaste and tender connection this time.
“I’m sorry,” Roland muttered, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his earlier outburst. He should know by now Donny loved him, Donny wouldn’t leave him over a bad day. The wars that waged in Roland’s head were no match for the relationship he’d built with Donny. His heart knew that, and unsurprisingly, Donny knew that. Roland just needed to start believing it himself.
“Don’t be,” Donny replied, giving Roland’s waist a squeeze. “Can we paint now?”
Roland stretched behind Donny and grabbed a tube of crimson paint from the back of the work table and headed toward the easel in the corner.
“You’re sure they’re going to like it?”
“Hmn? Sorry. Distracted.” Roland looked over his shoulder and caught Donny blatantly staring at his ass. Donny laughed, “Yes, they’ll like it. Athena promises.”
Roland held a brush out and Donny came to stand beside him to look at the painting they’d been working on— a wedding present for Gabriel and Joel. They hadn’t set a date yet, but Gabriel had promised as soon as Joel decided, it would be done. He didn’t strike Roland as the type to be interested in a long engagement an
yway.
He knew Gabriel appreciated art, at least, appreciated his art, so a custom painting was the best gift he could think of. Donny had been painting with him for months now, and his technique added a different level of detail to Roland’s more abstract ideas.
Roland had started painting a forest full of red trees, then Donny had come through and created rays of light that burst through the canopy to illuminate the forest floor.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, why did you choose red?” Donny asked.
“I heard Gabriel call Joel ‘Little Red’ one time when we were over there. I have no idea why that stuck in my head, but it did. Made me think of Little Red Riding Hood, and then I thought of a forest, and here we are.”
Donny painted a long stroke of white along the side of the canvas. “I love the way your mind works sometimes, but I hate how talented you are.”
“Hate?” Roland laughed, checking Donny out of the way with his hip.
“You’re brilliant.”
“And burdened,” Roland added on, tapping the end of the brush against his temple.
“You manage.”
“I manage.”
And that was the reality of their relationship and of Roland himself— with his medication, and with his therapist, he managed. Some days were better than others, but every day was another chance for a new memory with Donny, and he treasured those.
And Donny loved him. Whether it was for it, or because of it, or in spite of it, Donny hadn’t balked when Roland had asked for another chance, even though he should have. He poured himself back out for Roland in the purest and most beautiful way, and even on bad days, Roland tried to never take that for granted.
He was very much his own work in progress.
“I think it’s nearly there,” Donny observed, and for a fleeting moment, Roland was afraid he’d verbalized his thoughts. He blinked at the canvas and looked at Donny, who’d taken a step back and was looking at the painting.
“You’re right. I think it just needs a little…” Roland trailed off, swiping his brush through some blue and blending out the sky into the top edge of the canvas. He stepped back and crossed his arms, accidentally hitting himself in the chin with the brush.
“You got a little something,” Donny chuckled, gesturing toward his face
Roland raised his hand and wiped at the swipe of blue paint on his chin, then smeared it across Donny’s cheek. Donny feigned shock and rubbed at the place on his cheek where Roland had touched, but it only served to smear it.
The blue he’d used on the sky was the same blue he’d made after his first encounter with Donny, and he’d never seen it this close to Donny’s eyes before. But he was finally able to confirm it was a perfect match, just as it’d always been.
Epilogue
“Can you believe it’s been almost two years?” Roland wrapped his arms around Donny’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. Donny turned his head to the side and puckered his lips for a kiss, so Roland kissed him.
“It’s been a long two years,” Donny sounded reflective, and Roland pinched him in the side. “Hey! It has! You’re a lot of work, buddy,” he teased. “This has been a lot of work.” He gestured to the building in front of them.
“I told you I was work.”
“I told you I don’t mind the work.” Donny turned and rested his ear against Roland’s chest. He hummed a happy sound and smiled.
“Better you than me.” Roland chuckled and kissed the top of Donny’s head. He stroked a hand down Donny’s spine, grazing across his ass, then digging into his back pocket and pulling out a set of keys.
“Oh, I see. You’re only using me for my access to our very own studio space.” Donny pushed Roland away and pretended to pout. Roland smiled and nodded, then slipped the key into the front door.
They’d decided, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Roland was going to sell the penthouse and they’d find a place closer to downtown that had a work/live situation. It would give Roland more room to paint, and also allow them a separate space that they could utilize for public use. Many nights were spent over half-full takeout containers, discussing floor plans and utilization, and decoration—until one day this had practically fallen into their laps.
Over one of their standing lunch dates with Gabriel, Joel and Athena, Gabriel told them he’d heard about a space right in the heart of the arts district that had suddenly come up for sale, and then handed Roland a business card. They’d called after lunch and set up an appointment to go see it, and it was better than they’d anticipated. The space checked every box they had, so they made an offer before they went home, and three weeks later, closed on the space.
Now, here they were, holding hands and standing in the public use area of their new home.
“I think you should teach,” Donny said. “I know we talked about it, but I really think you should.”
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.”
“You taught me.” Donny laughed and pulled Roland farther into the room.
“There was a very good reward involved with teaching you though.” Roland squeezed his ass, and Donny jumped and swatted him.
“Whatever. Just open the door.” Donny pointed at the locked door tucked into the corner of the room which led upstairs to their private loft.
Roland smiled sweetly, if not patronizingly, at Donny and pushed the door open. He trailed Donny upstairs and followed him across the space to the large window that overlooked the street.
“Do you think people could see the outline of your cock if I fucked you against the window?”
“People could definitely see my cock if you fucked me against the window.” Roland stepped behind Donny and pushed his cock against Donny’s ass before he got any ideas about shouldering Roland against the window.
“Good.” Donny shimmied against him. “So, where are we gonna put the bed?” He turned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Roland pushed him away and walked around to look at the rest of the unit. It was new, as the arts district was still blossoming up around the east edge of downtown. It wasn’t cheap, but finding a space they could buy instead of lease would work out better in the long run.
“So, teaching?” Roland called over his shoulder after poking his head into the bathroom to check out the shower.
Donny ambled into the hallway and nodded, kicking at Roland’s ankle in a familiar way before passing him by and finding his way to the space the real estate agent had suggested they use for a bedroom area.
“Teaching,” he affirmed. “Getting back into your painting helped you, whether you want to recognize that as a catalyst or not, and I think if you taught other people how to paint, they may be able to find that same kind of help for themselves.”
“I’m not patient, though.” Roland cocked his head to the side.
“You waited for me.”
“That was a week.” He rolled his eyes.
“But wasn’t it the longest week ever?” Donny walked over to him and pulled the ends of his hair so he lowered his head. He pressed their lips together with a smile.
“For you, maybe.”
“Jesus,” Donny scoffed. “I don’t even know why I keep you around. You’re so mean to me now that you’re comfortable.”
Roland laughed and kissed him again.
“You know I love you.” Another kiss.
“I love you, too.” Donny pushed him away and looked around the area. “So where in this space would you prefer to get fucked regularly? I think if it’s over there,” he pointed toward a corner with windows, “the sun would get in your eyes when I wake you up for it.”
“You’re the most thoughtful boyfriend on the planet, you know that?”
Donny nodded. “I do. I’m so glad you noticed.” He looped his arms around Roland’s waist from behind and kissed his spine. Roland’s entire body shook as a spike of lust flared through him.
“We should put the bed back here,” Roland suggested, his voice suddenly thick wi
th desire. Donny’s arms snaked around his torso and his fingers skirted under the waistband of his pants.
“We can put it wherever you want.” Donny chuckled and he grazed his palm across the base of Roland’s cock, which jumped at the attention.
“Yeah, you know I’ll put it wherever I want,” Donny replied suggestively. Roland closed his eyes and stepped backward, walking them both toward the wall until he felt Donny’s shoulders bump the concrete. Donny’s dick sprang to life, and Roland felt it pressing against his crack even though it was constrained by Donny’s jeans.
Donny groaned and pulled his hands out of Roland’s pants, smoothing down his cock and doing his best to separate their bodies. “Don’t get me started. I don’t have any lube.”
“Shocking.” Roland widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows.
Donny scowled and shoved his hand down his pants to readjust himself. “I know. But you were so insistent about it last night, and I didn’t have time to put more in my wallet, you needy boy.” Donny made a tutting sound and shook his head teasingly and walked away.
Roland trailed him back downstairs to the public space and propped himself in the doorway while Donny walked around the room and looked at the placement of things like countertops and electrical sockets.
“Teaching will be good for you.” Donny’s voice was soft and reflective, matching the look on his face when he turned to look at Roland. “Do you think painting together helped us?”
“Obviously.”
“Then why wouldn’t it help someone else? You could have community classes and teach kids, or couples. You know, I was reading a thing online and it was talking about how art can communicate things that are hard to say in words, and it can even dig into your subconscious and you can paint things that you don’t even know you’re thinking about.”
“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?” Roland arched an eyebrow. Donny dropped his head back and rolled it from shoulder to shoulder a couple times before he looked up and faced Roland again.
“I think about you a lot.”
Roland knew that to be true, and the feeling was mutual. There wasn’t a decision or a move either man made without taking the other into account, including the decision to buy this new place. Donny always managed to give Roland all the things he needed, including space, without ever making Roland feel neglected. Donny walked a fine line, and Roland was aware of it, and felt overwhelmed with appreciation when he thought about all the manners and ways in which Donny loved him.
The Colors Between Us Page 23
