Dreaming in Color

by Cameron Dane

  Staggered by thoughts of Payton, stronger than any Marek had experienced in quite some time, Marek's head started to spin with possibilities. “Christ, Pay,” he whispered, “I know you would want me to be happy again. Are you making Colin have those dreams? Did you bring him here to me?”

  Silence encapsulated Marek's bedroom. No breeze drifted in through the open window, and no birds or bugs chirped in greeting the day. It felt like Marek sat in a void. No spectral soul hovered in the room; it was just Marek, alone.

  He rubbed his face and scratched his beard, and the grit of tired irritated his eyes. Payton wasn't here guiding him or magically manipulating his and Colin's lives from the grave. Marek knew the man wouldn't hide from him if he did still wander this earth as a ghost. More than that, Marek would feel Payton's lighthearted, easy presence surrounding him if he were here, and right now, Marek could not.

  Not this time.

  Right after Payton's death, mired in grief and guilt, Marek believed Payton visited him, once, in his old place back in Pittsburgh. Drunk off his ass every night for almost a month, Marek had opened his eyes in the pitch-black darkness and saw Payton kneeling before him. Smiling sadly, Payton had taken Marek's face in his hands and brushed the flow of tears away from his eyes. His familiar, lopsided smile tore a sob out of Marek, but Payton only pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He had whispered, “Find peace for yourself, my sweet man. I don't want to head home knowing I destroyed you.” Marek brokenly promised he would, for Payton. With that, Payton's vow of “I love you” resonated deeply in Marek's heart, and his lover disappeared.

  After that vision, Marek sold the scrap metal company and got out of Pittsburgh. Peace would never come to him in the place where Payton had been murdered. Where Marek's own selfishness and fears had kept them from being the couple Payton so wanted them to be.

  Sitting in his bedroom, right now, Marek knew Payton was not responsible for Colin's dreams. He did not guide Colin to Fiji and Marek's home; Marek felt that truth powerfully in his gut.

  But if it's not you, babe, then who? What?

  Another picture of Colin filled Marek's head, and his near physical perfection stoked the embers inside Marek that responded to men. Colin's eyes lit up when he smiled, and his infectious laugh fluttered butterflies in Marek's stomach. More than that, Colin's sheer tenacity and sincerity scratched at the slammed-shut door inside Marek, getting the key he held very near to the rusty lock within. I don't want him looking in there. Sweat broke out on Marek's upper lip, and his heart raced too fast. He'll hate me if he finds out why that terrible night in Henderson happened.

  The hum of activity on the water broke through the eerie silence of the morning. Marek moved across the room, peeked out the window, and saw Colin's speedboat slicing across the water toward the dock. Oh Christ. Marek exhaled an uneven breath. I can't be close to him right now. Lingering arousal for Colin, as well as thoughts of Payton, swirled in Marek's head, confusing his already sleep-deprived mind and sending panic in a flood throughout his body. I don't know what I'll do if he touches me again. I'm not ready.

  After quickly grabbing a notepad and pen, Marek flew out of his room and down the stairs.

  * * * * *

  “Hello?” Colin shut the door behind him and draped a garment bag across the railing at the bottom of the stairs. “Marek? Good morning!”

  No answer. Disappointment lanced Colin even though he had anticipated this possible result. It was too much to hope the man would greet him at the front door with a glass of orange juice and an order to prepare himself for a day full of fucking. It wouldn't surprise Colin to find Marek working in his greenhouse; Colin sensed the man spent a lot of time holed up in there. Close to Payton but away from the world. Familiar knots tightened in Colin's stomach, twisting him with worry that he would lose Marek before he even had him.

  Colin knew it was foolhardy to think he had a right to Marek based purely on a relationship in dreams, especially since Marek didn't even share the same awareness. Didn't change the need living inside him, though, clawing to get free. He wanted to stride up to Marek and kiss him full on the mouth, in front of an audience, to stake ownership once and for all. In front of a ghost too, if necessary.

  Steeling himself for a potential battle, Colin muttered, “No time like the present.”

  Passing through the kitchen, his mind fully on his next plan of attack, Colin almost missed the note clipped to the refrigerator door. Scrawled out in block letters with bold lines, it read: I'm okay. Went for a hike. Don't know what time I'll be back.—Marek.

  Colin couldn't help grinning at the man's signature. As if Colin wouldn't know who left the note. As quickly as Colin smiled at the thoughtful gesture of the little missive, it wobbled and went away. He covered the note with his open hand and leaned his forehead into the fridge, sighing. I kissed him too soon. I scared him.

  Panicking for a second, then pausing to think for a longer minute, Colin shuffled through the options for his next move. Tossing idea after idea aside as not right for Marek, Colin settled on perhaps the riskiest of all moves. It wasted precious time and put the ball entirely in Marek's court.

  Colin grabbed the note off the fridge and tucked it into his pocket. Taking a second to swipe the notepad off the counter, he backtracked through the house. Only one thing to do; Colin grabbed his bag off the railing and walked up the stairs, heading straight for Marek's bedroom.

  * * * * *

  Hours later, emerging from around the side of the house, Marek stalled, slumping against the side of the porch when he didn't see Colin's boat tethered to the dock. He didn't stay. Disappointment stabbed Marek, and he chuckled dryly at his own contrary thoughts. He ran to hide in the mountain, missing breakfast and lunch entirely so he could avoid Colin, and now here he stood, hurt that the man gave him exactly what he wanted: solitude on his island.

  Dragging his feet, Marek went inside, made himself a veggie sandwich, and downed a few chips with an icy fruit drink. With his mind centered squarely on Colin, though, he barely tasted the meal. His clothes were dirty and drenched in sweat after his hike, his mood had turned foul, and Marek didn't have anyone to blame but himself.

  He rinsed his plate and glass and put them in the dishwasher, muttering obscenities to himself as he climbed the stairs. Marek's entire life in Henderson had centered around repression and hiding virtually every thought, opinion, and feeling he ever experienced, always sensing his parents and brother would more than reject him if they ever found out who the real Marek was; they would have brutalized him and then thrown him out on his ass. Upon Payton's death, Marek had made the trip to Henderson to tell his family he was gay and would no longer hide it. They reacted with disgust and violence, as he'd always feared they would, and Marek no longer had contact with them.

  On the day Marek put Payton in the ground, he swore he would never hide who he was and what he wanted ever again. Only, Marek hadn't counted on Colin, the one man whose past tangled Marek up in a blanket of guilt and shame he could never release. A terrible choice made long ago, brought to the surface and relived repeatedly in his nightmares ever since Payton's murder. The part he played in Colin's attack.

  Why did it have to be you, Colin? The one person who might make me break my promise and deny myself what I really want. I think with you.

  Feeling rudderless, Marek entered his bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.

  “What?”

  Marek went closer, halting in front of his wardrobe, where a tan, lightweight suit hung from the door. It had a note speared through the hanger hook, and Marek ripped it off, sitting down on his bed to read.

  Come to my friends' wedding tonight. Jordan and Tag say they would love to have you. You can stand off to the side, out of the way, if you want, no big deal. I didn't know if you had a suit, and we're close to the same size, so I brought you one of mine. I'd love it if you would come. It's silly, but I missed you today. Hope to see you there.—Colin.

 
Listed at the bottom of the note was a location and time.

  Marek crumpled the paper and brought it to his mouth, his eyes falling closed as he fought a wave of longing strong enough to pull him under. His pulse raced, pumping so fast Marek opened his eyes and could see the beat under the skin on his wrist. Christ, he didn't know what the hell to do anymore. Go to the wedding, essentially declaring to Colin he wanted to be with the man, and in the process open himself up to a potential shitstorm of pain. Or stay home, reject Colin openly, and hurt him in front of his friends. Also probably run him off for good. Marek's chest squeezed just thinking about never seeing Colin again.

  If I could have just a day with Payton back, living openly, I would snatch it in a heartbeat. Today, if Payton were around haunting this place, Marek knew the man would materialize and smack him for missing a wedding and a chance to get to know a new person better.

  Yet more proof that Payton had no part in Colin's dreams.

  Remembering his promise to Payton, Marek stood and went into his bathroom. Beyond his vow to his former partner, and the happiness he knew Payton would want for him, Marek had missed Colin today while hiding up in the mountain.

  Looking at the mess staring back at him in the mirror, and getting a whiff of the stink clinging to his body, Marek chuckled and turned on the shower.

  He had some work to do.

  * * * * *

  Tag jumped to Colin's side as soon as Colin entered the bedroom. “Is she freaking out yet?” he asked. “Tell me she hasn't bolted for Australia.”

  Laughing, Colin strode across the bedroom and straightened Tag's tie. “Jordan is still here. Getting nervous as hell, though. You're right about that.”

  “I knew she would.” Tag spun away and walked to the sliding glass door, and Colin joined him. They looked down on the beach where Tag would soon say his vows. Torches were lit, already blazing for when the sun would set, and orchids littered the beach. No chairs; the witnesses would stand during the brief exchange of vows.

  The small number of guests already mingled, most of them members of Tag's family. An older gentleman looked up and waved. Tag waved back and wiped his hand on his suit pants.

  “Are you nervous?” Colin asked.

  Tag shook his head, his focus still on the scene below. “Not for myself. I've wanted to marry that woman since the day I met her. Shit, though. Jordan is all tough, but she's scared as hell of marriage.”

  God, Colin envied Jordan the love and understanding Tag had for her. “You would be wary too if you had the family she grew up in.” He slid Tag a sidelong glance. “Just don't give her any reason to regret taking this chance with you.”

  “Never gonna have to worry about that.” Tag exhaled and started pacing the length of the bedroom. “As long as I can get her to the minister to say her vows.”

  Colin followed Tag's track from his position at the sliding doors. “Jordan has three women in that room with her who aren't going to let her panic and run. She doesn't want to run anyway. She loves you; she's just frightened of the everyday stuff of being together that comes with a marriage.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just have to remember it took her a while to settle into believing in me as a boyfriend, so it's probably going to take the same to get her to trust me as a husband. I'm prepared.” Tag finally stopped circling the room and looked up at Colin. “How about you? Do you see your guy down there yet?” Colin had shared details of his dreams, and the reality of them manifesting in Fiji, when talking to Jordan and Tag about inviting Marek to the wedding.

  Looking down at the beach from the second-story window, Colin searched the small gathering. No Marek in sight. Deflating, he said, “No. I guess it was a long shot, at best. He doesn't know anyone, and from what I've picked up about him over the last few days, he seems a very private man.” Colin tried to smile in the face of defeat, but his reflection in the window showed the hurt in his eyes.

  “What will you do now?”

  “Sleep on it. See what my gut tells me tomorrow.” Although, damn, Colin had been so certain Marek would show, despite the discomfort he might feel in a group of strangers.

  Tag joined Colin at the door once again. “If you think these dreams mean something important, if this man is who you want, and you sense he wants the same, don't let his fear or yours hold you back. Look at me.” He lifted his arms and turned in a circle. “I'm in fucking paradise marrying the woman of my dreams.”

  “Thanks, man.” Smacking Tag on his thick shoulder, Colin covered his swell of emotion with a lighthearted tease. “If you swung my way, I might fight just about anyone to get you for myself.”

  “If I swung your way, you'd already have me on my back. Well”—Tag flashed a fast grin and arched a brow—“maybe the other way around.”

  Colin rolled his eyes and laughed. “Right.” Heterosexual males, geez.

  A knock sounded at the door right then. Tom let himself inside without waiting for a response. “All right, guys. The minister is here. I just talked to Alison, and she says Jordan is ready to make the walk. Let's go.”

  “Finally,” Tag said. “Let's do this.” He threw his arm around Colin and hauled him to the door. He grabbed Tom too and had them both half running to keep up with his race to the altar.

  Tom joked, “Someone wants a wedding night.”

  Colin jogged, almost tripping as he leaned behind Tag and accepted Tom's high five.

  * * * * *

  Colin stood between Tag and Tom and looked over the crowd gathered, proud and happy as hell for Jordan and Tag. He shifted, searching for where Jordan would emerge from the rented bungalow and walk down the “aisle” to her groom. Instead of Jordan, Colin froze on the face he crossed instead. Holding back a bit among the palm trees, Marek stood, looking right at Colin.

  He's here.

  Tall and fit, wearing Colin's tan suit, the man stole Colin's breath. Somewhere in Marek's schedule today, someone had given him a haircut. And his face, oh God, his face was shaved clean. No more beard. Just…Marek remained.

  Holy shit.

  Colin trembled where he stood.

  He is stunning.

  Chapter Nine

  Colin crossed the expanse of beach and approached Marek after the ceremony, unable to believe the dryness in his mouth and the way he perspired. God, what the fuck is wrong with me? I've let this man inside me hundreds of times in my dreams.

  The answer was simple. This was real, and Colin wanted Marek to like him, to be attracted to him in reality. The dreams didn't matter anymore.

  Everything Colin did from here on out, in person, did.

  He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand in greeting. “Hi. I'm glad you came.” His voice wavered when Marek engulfed his palm in a firm shake. God, he turns me into putty with hardly a look or touch.

  Marek dipped his head and gave Colin a little smile. “Thank you.” He let go and slid his hands into his trouser pockets—Colin's trouser pockets. Damn, the guy looked good in Colin's suit. “It was a pretty ceremony, even from back here.” He looked over Colin's shoulder to the gathering behind them. “Simple. Nice.”

  “Except for the clothes.” Colin reached up, undid the top button on his shirt, and loosened his pale blue tie, breathing a little easier when he did. “Leave it to Jordan to want a wedding on a beach, but at the same time want everyone in the party to look like they're standing in a traditional church wedding.”

  “Right.” Marek eyed Colin's black suit and shiny shoes. “You look nice though.”

  Heat flamed Colin's face. He could only pray the evening shadows covered his telltale sign of pleasure. “Thanks.”

  “Everyone does,” Marek quickly added. He darted his attention off Colin once again. “And your friends look happy.”

  “Oh, absolutely happy. They're a good match. Right for each other. All that kind of good stuff.”

  “Right.”

  Nerves ate at Colin, tripping up the wires in his brain that connected to form sentences. He couldn't s
eem to find the middle ground between innate rambling and utter silence. Fuck, though, he just could not get over Marek's trimmed, dark hair, and his clean-shaven face. No tan lines existed from the cover of facial hair, just smooth skin that looked prone to five o'clock shadow.

  “Col!” Jordan's voice boomed across the night sky, bellowing from the deck of the house. “Bring your friend and come get food! I haven't eaten all day! Let's go!”

  Colin turned, and Jordan beckoned at him like a traffic controller bringing in a plane on manual. With her veil thrown back, her strapless white gown, and her bouquet still in one hand, Colin had to laugh.

  Shifting, Colin included Marek. “You want to go meet my friends?” He indicated the deck with a move of his shoulder. “I promise they're casual and cool and won't make a big deal or single you out for teasing.” He smiled wryly. “They'll do that to me alone later on.”

  Marek's focus went from Colin to the crowd walking up to the rental bungalow's back deck. He studied the shadowed bodies for a long minute, and Colin could see his hand beating against his thigh inside his pocket. “Okay,” he finally said. “I'd like something to eat.”

  “Good.” Colin evened out his voice and stamped down any visual excitement at his small victory. Inside, he whooped like a little boy. “Follow me.”

  * * * * *

  Colin lifted his face and for a moment closed his eyes. “The cool breeze feels nice, doesn't it?”

  “Yeah,” Marek murmured, his voice hushed. “Your friends couldn't have picked a better night for a wedding.”

  With bare feet and his dress pants rolled up to his calves, Colin walked along the darkened beach. The water lapped onto the shore and washed over his toes, up to his ankles, and tickled his skin. Marek strolled beside Colin free of his shoes and socks too; he had his tie now fully undone, hanging loosely around his neck. Colin had removed his before sitting down to eat, and his jacket remained back at the bungalow as well.

  The bride and groom had left for a luxury honeymoon suite a short while ago to enjoy some privacy, and most of Tag's family had returned to their hotel. A handful of people remained talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company. Soft strains of slow music from Sylvia's iPod drifted down the beach, snaking its haunting melody into Colin's marrow. The moon looked like it touched the water, he had a gorgeous-as-all-get-out man at his side, and Colin didn't think he had been in such a romantic setting in his life.