When Roland had finished the sandwich and two pickles, Donny dropped the plate into the sink and walked around the island, taking Roland by the hand.
“Now we go to bed.”
Chapter 17
The Taste of Vodka and Hope
Roland followed Donny into the bedroom and stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do or where to go. He felt so off balance when Donny was around, like the world was spinning and he wasn’t. It wasn’t necessarily an unwelcome feeling so much as it was an unfamiliar one.
“Take off your pants.” Donny was on the other side of the bed now, pulling his clothes off while he traced his eyes up Roland’s body. Roland pushed his pants to his thighs and the fabric slipped down, then pooled at his feet. He clenched his hands then relaxed them, moving his fingers back and forth across the hairs on his thighs.
Donny reached into Roland’s bedside table and pulled out the bottle of lube and a condom and closed the drawer with a soft click. He tossed the lube on the bed but held the condom in his hand.
“Come here. Lay down.” He gestured to the bed and began to stroke his cock lazily in his free hand. Roland watched Donny’s hand slide up and down his shaft until it thickened and leaked from the tip. Roland licked his lips and did as he’d been told.
“Get yourself hard.” Donny stayed standing, continued stroking, and his eyes burned into Roland’s skin as Roland dripped some lube into his hand and then palmed his cock. When his fingers wrapped around his shaft, his eyes fell closed and his back angled up off the bed. He let out an involuntary sigh and then settled back down.
“Have you ever topped, Roland?” Donny tore the condom open with his teeth and waited for his reply. The answer was no. Roland had never topped. He’d never been with someone who’d been interested in bottoming which, in all honesty, was fine with Roland. He loved the feeling of being taken, being used, being controlled. He didn’t need to think about anything or make any decisions. He had only to take what he was given.
“No.”
“Hmn.” Donny crawled onto the bed just as Roland leaned up on his elbows to sit. Donny pressed a hand flat against his chest until he was lying back down.
“I’m going to fuck you, Roland. I’m going to use you to get myself off. I’ll give you what you need, and I’ll take what I deserve.”
Roland’s mouth went dry and he nodded his head.
Donny rolled the condom down Roland’s cock and covered it in lube. He took two slick fingers and reached behind him, pressing them both inside of himself as Roland watched. Donny fucked himself onto his hand, tossing his head back and groaning.
Roland stared, watched the lines of Donny’s chest contort as his breaths stuttered, watched the way his cock bobbed as his fingers worked their way in and out of his hole. Roland reached his hand out and grazed his fingers along Donny’s thigh, causing Donny’s head to angle down and his eyes to snap open.
Donny looked nearly lost to pleasure, and he removed his fingers, moving to straddle Roland’s torso. He reached behind him again, this time grabbing Roland’s cock and holding it firmly around the base so it pointed toward the ceiling. He braced one hand on Roland’s chest and lifted up, then backward, then down.
“Fuck, Roland,” Donny whispered, sliding himself down Roland’s cock inch by inch until he was fully seated, his ass resting on Roland’s thighs. A layer of sweat had already broken out across Donny’s chest, and his body quaked as he rocked himself back and forth on Roland’s erection.
Roland clamped his fingers hard around Donny’s thighs. “Stop,” he choked out, and Donny slowed his movement, his jaw clenched together, and his eyes bored down into Roland’s.
“You feel so fucking good inside me,” Donny said, finally stopping his gyrations.
Roland needed a minute. He pressed his eyes closed and took a series of steadying breaths. This was too much. Maybe not for Donny, but far too much for him— so much more than he deserved. He could feel his heart thumping erratically inside his chest, and his palms slicked with sweat as his hands tensed on Donny’s thighs.
Donny shifted and leaned forward, stroking his hands down Roland’s chest and torso. Roland could feel the heat radiating from his palms and he was well aware of the barely restrained tension that vibrated down Donny’s arm.
“Be good, Roland. Be fucking good for me.” Donny sounded less in control of himself than he ever had and his hips bucked involuntarily while he petted Roland.
“Okay, yes.” Roland nodded.
Donny moaned and resumed his assault on Roland’s dick, fucking himself easily and thoroughly. It was unlike anything Roland had felt before. He could see the appeal to topping, could understand why it appealed to other people. The knowledge you could give someone the level of pleasure that Donny was feeling now could be as intoxicating as a good drink.
Donny continued to use Roland’s dick to get himself off, and Roland studied him, distracted and mesmerized by the shade of red that enveloped Donny’s cock as it grew harder and stretched the skin around it. Roland stared and licked his lips, pressing his nails into Donny’s thighs. Donny moaned and bucked his hips out of time with his thrusts and reached his hands up to cover Roland’s.
“You’re being so good, Roland. Making me feel so good.”
Roland’s reply was a choked whimper.
His mind was at war with itself, a common occurrence, but generally one that didn’t occur when he was being fucked. The warmth of Donny’s ass as it slid around his cock bordered on overwhelming. It was too much responsibility, too much trust to fuck Donny.
Roland didn’t deserve this.
“Roland, get out of your fucking head and let me get us off,” Donny panted, sliding a hand up his own chest to his throat. “Just feel. It feels so good.”
Roland tried. God, he tried to shut his mind off, but it was getting the better of him. He raised his hands to his head and gripped his hair, closed his eyes and arched backward, pressing his cock deeper into Donny.
Donny groaned but slowed his movements, bringing both his hands down to Roland’s chest.
"You spend too much time in your head,” he whispered between heavy breaths. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me.”
Roland didn’t want to.
“Open. Your. Eyes.”
Roland did, and Donny’s mouth tipped up into a smile. He ground himself down against Roland’s thighs and moaned. He leaned down and grabbed Roland by the neck and pulled him up to a sitting position. Donny held him there, nose to nose, staring into his eyes.
“I deserve this, don’t I?” Donny breathed the words against his mouth. “Stop trying to give me less than I deserve, less than I want.” He resumed his grind, fucking himself with Roland’s cock.
Roland wasn’t sure how long he could last, his senses overwhelmed by the complete and consuming proximity to everything that was Donny. Roland wanted to be enough for Donny, in this moment, and all the moments after. His brain wouldn’t allow him to believe he could be, though. Donny may deserve this from him, but he didn’t deserve this from Donny.
“Open your eyes.”
Donny’s voice shook him out of his own head; he didn’t even realize his eyes had been closed again. Donny pressed their lips together, his blue eyes intent and hungry as he licked his way inside of Roland’s mouth.
All Roland could taste was the tang of the pickles from lunch, and lingering kick from all the vodka. He pushed his tongue inside Donny’s mouth, but there was nothing to overtake the residual taste of the alcohol. Roland placed a hand at the back of Donny’s neck and pressed their mouths closer together, desperate to just find out what Donny tasted like.
It felt like he was being eaten up by a nagging urge to know the man on top of him— to know him inside and out. Roland’s eyes frantically searched through the deep pools of Donny’s blue eyes to see any hint of trepidation, or displeasure, and all he found was overwhelming lust fueled need.
Their teeth and noses clashed together, but
Roland held his eyes open and watched Donny’s eyes turn fiery. Donny fucked him faster, his cock smashed between them, slicking against Roland’s stomach with every thrust.
Roland’s entire body shuddered as his orgasm barreled through him.
“I’m coming,” he grunted out into Donny’s mouth, and Donny hummed a sound of happy approval when Roland’s hips thrust upward. Roland tightened his grip on Donny’s neck, using it to hold him in place while he bucked violently, deeper into Donny through the duration of his orgasm, only separating their mouths and loosening his hold when he needed to take a breath.
Roland dropped his forehead against Donny’s and let his eyes close. Donny pressed kisses to his cheeks and his eyelids. He tangled his hands into Roland’s hair and tipped his head backward so his lips could reach the delicate skin on the underside of Roland’s chin. Donny licked and nibbled and kissed his way across Roland’s entire face, sliding his tongue over his ear.
Donny’s breath was heavy as it fell evenly across Roland’s face. Roland slid his hands up Donny’s back to his shoulders and down again, settling them around his waist.
“I’ve never come like that before. You’re amazing,” Donny whispered, pressing more kisses against Roland’s skin. “No one has ever made me feel the way you do. Whether you’re inside me or I’m inside you.”
Roland furrowed his brows together. When had Donny come? Neither of them had touched Donny’s cock. Roland pulled back slightly, and felt a damp coldness between them, and looked down and found both of their stomachs covered in cum.
His eyes found Donny’s face and Donny smiled at him.
“See what happens when you do as you’re told?”
Roland folded his arms around Donny and lowered his forehead to Donny’s shoulder. His chest heaved with the weight of his own breaths, but he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. He felt overwhelmed. By life, by what had just happened, by Donny. It was too much— the trust Donny gave him. Roland didn’t deserve…
Donny’s hands wrapped around the side of Roland’s face and pulled his head up until they were eye to eye.
“Stop it,” Donny demanded.
“Stop what?” Roland managed to whisper.
“Get out of your head right now, Roland.” Donny pressed their mouths together. “Just be here with me.”
Roland wanted it. He wanted it so badly. He would need to conquer himself because he didn’t want to miss whatever this was. He wanted to deserve it. Roland nodded his head and opened his mouth to Donny’s insistent tongue.
Roland’s cock had softened, and it slipped free from Donny, who sucked in a sharp breath of air and sealed their lips completely together.
Roland lost track of time. He didn’t know how long they sat there, Donny’s legs around his waist and their arms around each other. But Donny’s cum had dried, sticky on their skin, and their sweat had cooled and then bloomed again from the intensity of their kissing. Their mouths finally parted, and Donny reached up and swiped his thumb across Roland’s cheek. It felt cool and damp, and Roland reached up and touched his face to find it was wet.
He touched his other cheek, and it was wet, too. Roland didn’t even realize he’d been crying, and his face burned as he quickly tried to wipe away the evidence. It was futile, of course. Donny knew.
Donny reached up and stilled Roland’s hands. He pulled them away from Roland’s face and turned them so Roland’s palms were facing him, and he pressed his lips softly to the wet skin of Roland’s fingertips.
Donny kissed his tears away, then lowered Roland’s hands and kissed the tears from his cheeks. Roland sniffed and Donny pressed their mouths together in another kiss. He could taste the salt on Donny’s lips, and as their mouths parted and came together, Roland discovered a new flavor.
Still somewhat masked by the flavor of vodka, Roland thought he found a taste of Donny, and all his mind could do was think of hope.
Chapter 18
Your Trust is Beautiful
Donny hadn’t let Roland get out of bed even though it was still early in the afternoon. He’d gotten up and found a washcloth in the bathroom, soaked it with warm water then came back to wipe Roland down. He cleaned his chest and his stomach, then pulled off the condom and smoothed the washcloth over Roland’s softened cock until he was clean. He padded back to the bathroom and washed himself up, cleaned his hands and then crawled into bed, tucking himself under Roland’s arm.
“Close your eyes and rest with me,” he mumbled, putting Roland’s arm around his shoulders and fidgeting until he was able to get comfortable.
“My mind is going a mile a minute,” Roland replied, stroking his fingers across Donny’s shoulder.
“I know,” Donny replied. “Just turn the tv on or something. Put on a movie.” He lifted an arm and pointed toward the TV mounted on the wall.
Roland stretched away from him to reach the remote, then powered the television on. He flipped through some channels before ending on a cooking competition and dropping the remote onto the bed.
“Thank you,” Donny mumbled eventually, breaking a comfortable silence that had stretched between them.
“What for?” Roland scoffed.
“For earlier. For this.” Donny dragged a finger across Roland’s cheekbone, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He woke later, the room was dark and the sun was barely beginning to filter through the blinds. Roland was tangled around him, arms and legs secure, holding him in place. Donny angled his head backward to see the clock. It was nearly five in the morning. He stretched his limbs and tried to extricate himself from Roland without waking him, but Roland roused and held on to Donny for dear life.
“Don’t go,” Roland muttered into the top of Donny’s head.
“I gotta pee.” He kissed Roland on the chest and Roland’s grip relaxed, letting him up. Donny went into the bathroom and took care of his business, then returned to bed and sat under the sheets with his back against the headboard.
Roland curled into him, resting his head in his lap, and Donny stroked his fingers through his hair and into his beard. Donny finger combed the wiry hair and massaged his fingers onto Roland’s chin.
“Do you like having a beard?”
Roland shook his head. “Not particularly.”
“Then why don’t you shave it?” Donny tugged some of the hair when he spoke.
Roland shrugged and turned his head away. Donny grabbed him by the beard and angled his face back so he could see Roland’s face.
“Don’t do that. Not now.” Donny scrunched his face together and shook his head at Roland.
“Not now,” Roland parroted, his voice soft.
“Not now,” he affirmed, leaning down and pressing their lips together. They kissed until Donny separated their mouths, and he smiled down at Roland whose eyes looked slightly clearer than they had in the past.
“Come with me,” Donny said, again extricating himself from underneath Roland and tugging him into the bathroom. “Stay here, okay?” He sat Roland down on the closed toilet and went into the kitchen.
He yanked open Roland’s junk drawer and found a pair of scissors, then returned to the bathroom. He set the scissors on the counter, and Roland eyed them, then shifted his look up toward Donny.
“You have clippers?” Donny asked.
“Yeah.”
“Where are they?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Under the sink.” Roland pointed at the cabinet.
Donny squatted down and grabbed the case that held the clippers and then set them on the counter beside the scissors. He pulled Roland’s razor and shaving cream out as well, lining everything up so he could reach it.
“Is this okay?” Donny asked, his intentions clear.
“Yeah,” Roland’s voice was rough. “Yes,” he clarified, sounding a little more certain.
Donny held Roland’s face in his hands and stroked his thumbs across his cheekbones. Roland closed his eyes and breathed into the touch
Donny
picked up the scissors and snipped a section of Roland’s beard away.
“You are so beautiful,” Donny whispered when he snipped another section of hair away. Roland looked up at him, his eyes still clear, but full of doubt. Donny clipped Roland’s entire beard to a manageable length, then set the scissors down and plugged in the clippers.
“The trust you give me is beautiful,” Donny said, using the clippers to trim a line up Roland’s cheek. Donny could feel Roland’s eyes on him, following the movement of his eyes and hand.
“The way you give me your body is beautiful,” Donny trimmed Roland’s other cheek and his chin. “The way you let me take what I need from you is fucking beautiful.”
Donny finished with the clippers and set them on the counter. He turned on the tap and filled the sink with warm water. Roland reached his hands up to his face and ran his fingertips along the short hairs, then set his hands under his thighs on the lid of the toilet.
Donny dunked the razor in the sink and set it on the counter. “Do you not believe me?” he asked, squirting shaving cream into his hand.
“I want to believe you,” Roland answered, closing his eyes when Donny brought his cream lathered hands to Roland’s cheeks. Donny covered the remainder of Roland’s beard with shaving cream and then dunked the razor in the sink.
“That’s a start,” he said smiling and dragging the razor down Roland’s cheek. Once the hair was gone, Donny slid his thumb up and down the smooth patch of skin that had been revealed.
Donny rinsed the razor and shaved another patch of skin, and another, and another until Roland’s face was smooth and clean. He ran a washcloth under the tap and raised it to Roland’s face, wiping away the remaining shaving cream.
Roland tilted his face up and looked at him, and Donny’s breath caught in his throat. His lips parted, and he grazed a knuckle down Roland’s cheek. He felt as though he was seeing the real Roland for the first time. Roland was the fucking winter sunset, the green flash— his eyes. Donny couldn’t help himself; his heart stuttered like it had in Gabriel’s hallway, and Donny dipped his head down and seized Roland’s mouth in a kiss. And it wasn’t soft or tender. It was hungry, it was furious. Donny’s kiss made demands.
The Colors Between Us Page 12