The Colors Between Us

by Kate Hawthorne

  “What do you mean if you get kidnapped?” Roland asked.

  “This guy is super weird. I’ve delivered here before.” Donny straightened and walked up to the porch. He rang the bell and waited. The door was opened by a barefoot man about Donny’s size who had a nervous and panicked look about him. He had disheveled black hair and eyes so brown they looked like chocolate. His eyes darted over Donny’s shoulder, then to Donny’s face. His mouth opened, but quickly snapped closed when Richard came around the corner and strode confidently to the front door, his shoes clacking across the floor.

  Richard put a hand on the man’s shoulder, and he tensed slightly with the contact.

  “Can you excuse us?” Richard asked, before closing the door in Donny’s face. He heard hushed voices before the door re-opened revealing Richard there alone.

  He smiled. “Sorry about that.” Richard held his arms out for the boxes, which he stacked inside the door with ease, then signed his name on the delivery slip and passed the clipboard back to Donny with a twenty-dollar bill and closed the door without a word.

  Donny shook his head and retreated down the walkway and climbed into the car. Roland was fiddling with his phone in the passenger seat, and he looked up and smiled when Donny turned the car on.

  “Glad to see you made it out safely,” Roland said with a smile.

  “I did. He’s still super weird, but I managed to evade the basement, and he gave me a good tip, so I think it’s a win.” Donny chuckled.

  “What about the other sad little delivery boys he has down there, though?”

  Donny sucked in a dramatic breath, “They can fend for themselves. The important thing is I’ll live to fuck your pretty little ass at least one more day.”

  He had been seeing, and fucking, Roland consistently for a few weeks, and Roland was smiling more, and drinking less. He was by no means a happy person or a sober person, but the change was noticeable, and Donny was pleased by it.

  Roland still hadn’t set foot in the studio as far as Donny knew, but he’d been allowing Donny to draw him more. They would stay up nights, Donny tucked against Roland after he’d sketched something in the penthouse, and Roland would give him tips on refining his technique.

  Donny had asked Roland if he would teach him to paint, but it hadn’t been the right question at the time. Roland had properly clammed up and then pounded an entire glass of vodka without even speaking. Donny had been left awestruck on the couch, and Roland looked surprisingly ashamed when he set the glass back down empty, so Donny didn’t bring it up after that.

  Roland had good days and bad days, like most people. But Donny was well aware that unlike most people, Roland’s bad days were more like unexpected spirals into an abyss. He’d keep the blinds closed, and he wouldn’t speak to Donny beyond offering him the occasional exasperated grunt. When Roland got that way, Donny would fuck him senseless and then hold him in the quiet dark until they both fell asleep. On the nights Roland shook him off, he would just go home and when he returned the following day, Roland would be Roland again.

  “Thanks for agreeing to come to lunch today,” Donny said while he tapped out a beat on the steering wheel.

  “What if they don’t like me?”

  “What’s not to like?”

  Roland scoffed, “Be serious.”

  “I am.” Donny glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “We have a half hour drive back to Beverly Hills. I can list the reasons.”

  “You don’t even need the drive to the next exit before you’d run out of them.” Roland dropped his head against the window.

  “You are handsome. You’re better than handsome. You’re fucking sexy as hell, with and without the beard, but especially without. Your jaw is unbelievably sexy, the way your face is shaped. Fuck. And your hair, it’s like fucking silk. It turns me on so much when we’re kissing and it drapes around our faces, like we’re in our own fucking world. Just you and me.” Donny reached across the console and squeezed Roland’s knee. “While I’m thinking about just you and me— your cock. Jesus. It’s a work of art by itself. You should pay attention to the way it throbs when you come, it’s unreal. And there’s the way you take care of Pete.”

  “Pete is a cat; he doesn’t need to be taken care of.”

  “Well, not anymore, but he did, and you did.”

  “I got drunk and he sat in a blob of paint.”

  “The one time and you made up for it.”

  “By getting drunk and not letting him sit in paint.” Roland snorted a laugh.

  “You’re missing the fucking point.” Donny snapped.

  “And what is the fucking point then, Adonis?” Roland ran a hand through his hair and shook it back from his face.

  “We’ve had this conversation before. What I think and what I feel fucking count. Stop trying to invalidate my feelings just because they disagree with yours.” Donny exited the freeway and tried to slow his heavy breathing. Roland hadn’t said anything, hadn’t looked at him, just fiddled with his phone in his lap. “I’m sorry. I understand that’s wrong of me. I know that me forcing my feelings on you makes you feel like I’m saying your perceptions don’t matter. But they do.”

  Donny pulled into the guest parking and turned the car off, then angled himself in his seat and grabbed Roland’s hands and forced him to face him, both of their knees banging into the center console.

  “I think the world of you,” Donny whispered. “This thing between us is important to me.”

  Roland eyed him, his face marred with doubt.

  “You are important to me.” Donny reached a hand up and wrapped his fingers around the back of Roland’s head and tugged him closer. Roland’s eyes closed and Donny pressed a kiss to his barely parted mouth.

  “Why?” Roland asked.

  Donny huffed out an exasperated noise and pulled back to see Roland’s face lit up, his lip pulling up in a smirk.

  “You’re an ass. I have no idea why I like you,” he said, pulling Roland in for one more kiss before pushing him away and getting out of the car.

  “So, what’s the deal with this again?” Roland trailed Donny into the elevator.

  “My sister has a standing date to see Joel for lunch once a week, and he’s living with Gabriel now, so she just comes over and makes lunch. And I don’t know how I got the invite, since it’s not her house, but once you meet my sister, it’ll make sense. So, if I’m free on lunch day, I pop by.”

  “That’s very gracious of Joel’s boyfriend.” Roland observed, finally sliding his phone into his pocket when they exited the elevator on Gabriel’s floor.

  “His name is Gabriel.” Donny walked down the hallway and knocked on the door. He turned to Roland and hooked his fingers through Roland’s belt loops.

  “Gabriel and Joel,” Roland murmured, dipping his head down and pressing his lips against Donny’s forehead.

  “And Athena,” Donny’s sister chirped as she pulled open the front door.

  “You get to open the door here too? Have you moved in?” Donny questioned her.

  “Gabriel appreciates me, don’t you, handsome boyfriend?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Of course,” came a reply from the kitchen.

  “You must be Roland the artist,” Athena greeted him with an extended hand.

  Roland tentatively returned her handshake and nodded.

  “The artist part is used loosely.”

  Donny elbowed Roland in the ribs.

  “Not according to the paintings in the hallway, which my brother assures me are sunsets even though they just look like colors to me.” Athena dropped Roland’s hand and ushered them inside.

  Donny pushed the door closed and slid his hand under Roland’s shirt, flexing his fingers against the skin at the small of his back.

  “Donny said you liked roast beef and cheddar, so that’s what we got and pickles too, also—” Athena was well into her list of ingredients as she lined up eight pieces of bread on the cutting board.

  �
�Calm down, Theenie,” Joel chided, coming down the hallway and into the kitchen. He scanned the room, his eyes passing over Donny and Roland, before they came to rest on Gabriel. His entire body relaxed and he smiled when Gabriel held his hand out in an invitation. He reached over and wrapped his fingers around Gabriel’s, then turned back to Donny and Roland.

  “You must be Roland.” Joel smiled.

  “And I assume you’re Joel. Even though Donny is apparently terrible with introductions,” Roland chuckled and Donny slid his hand down and grazed his fingers across the top of Roland’s ass.

  “Watch your mouth,” he teased. “This is my sister’s best friend, Joel, and his boyfriend, Gabriel. Joel and Gabriel, this is Roland.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Roland said smiling at the two men.

  “Can I get either of you a drink?” Gabriel asked while he dragged his fingers across the tops of bottles in his wet bar before settling on whiskey.

  Donny clenched his jaw together but forced a smile. “I’m fine with water.” He looked up at Roland, hoping that his face read in an even mix of whatever you want is fine and please don’t want more vodka.

  Roland smiled at him and reached out, lightly touching Donny’s cheekbones with the tips of his fingers.

  “It’s a little early. Just water, please.”

  Donny’s entire body relaxed as he let out a tense breath. Roland flitted his fingers across Donny’s cheeks again and he smiled. It was a small thing, but it felt huge to Donny. He wrapped his hands around Roland’s face and tugged him down, sealing their mouths together. Donny lifted up onto his toes and kissed Roland harder, licking his mouth open.

  “It is early, isn’t it?” Athena called from the kitchen.

  Roland quickly pulled away, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

  “Did you want your usual, Little Red?” Gabriel asked, and Joel nodded, leaving a soft kiss against Gabriel’s spine before walking into the kitchen. Gabriel set two glasses of water down on the table as Athena brought the sandwiches around.

  There was casual chatter, and Donny picked at his sandwich, just waiting for Athena to start her twenty questions routing. Roland was nearly halfway done with his sandwich when she finally opened her mouth.

  “So, if you’re not an artist, Roland, even though my brother says you are, what do you do for work?” Athena asked. Roland chewed thoughtfully, Donny assumed it was in an attempt to keep his mouth full of food for as long as possible before he answered her.

  “Well, when I was an artist, it paid really well,” Roland confided, shoving another bite of sandwich into his mouth. Donny nibbled at his own, cautiously.

  “Ah, so living in the lap of luxury,” she chuckled.

  “That’s rude, Theenie,” Joel chimed in. She turned her attention to him and raised an eyebrow. “It is. You wouldn’t say something like that to Gabriel.”

  “He has a point,” Gabriel added.

  “Shut up, you two. You’re looking a lot less handsome today, questionable boyfriend.” Athena wagged her finger across the table.

  Roland finished his sandwich and pushed back from the table. “Can you point me to your restroom?” he asked Gabriel, who pointed down the hallway. “Thanks.”

  “He’s cute,” Athena whispered once Roland was out of the room.

  “I know,” Donny said, nodding. “I wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t.” Donny hadn’t been on this end of Athena’s inquisition before. He’d never dated anyone seriously enough to bring around. He looked down at the remaining half of his sandwich and used his tongue to pick bread out of his teeth.

  “So, is he your boyfriend?” Joel asked.

  “What? No. Boyfriend? No. I mean, we haven’t talked about it. But, no,” Donny stumbled over his words and made the decision to clamp his mouth shut before he said something stupid while Roland was in earshot.

  “Right.” Athena smiled and shoved the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth.

  “I need to piss.” Donny stood up and glared at his sister before turning to go down the hallway toward the bathroom. He was staring at the carpet, mumbling to himself, trying to decide at what point Roland would qualify as being his boyfriend and if that was something they should discuss at some point. Donny assumed that even if they didn’t have a title, they were exclusive. He was over at Roland’s frequently and he hadn’t seen any signs of another person. He’d have to ask and not sound jealous— just be safe.

  His thoughts were interrupted as he walked into something and looked up to find it was Roland who was standing deathly still in the middle of the hallway.

  “Hey, are you okay?” He slid his arms around Roland’s waist and rested his head against his arm. Roland didn’t reply. He just stood, staring straight ahead. Donny followed his stare and ended up looking at the winter sunset painting. "Oh, yeah. Look, I’ve been inside the guy who painted that,” Donny chuckled and pressed a kiss to Roland’s shoulder.

  Roland didn’t respond, just reached out a hand towards the painting and pulled it back quickly, then curled his fingers tightly around Donny’s shoulder. He stepped back and looked down at Donny, still silent, but his face looked different somehow. Donny couldn’t place the change though. He squinted and cocked his head up at Roland.

  “Can we go?” Roland whispered.

  Donny was overtaken by worry. “Are you okay, Roland?”

  He nodded. “I need to go home and paint.”

  Chapter 21

  Now You're Not Blue Anymore

  As soon as Donny parked the car, Roland was out and nearly sprinted to the elevators. He held the door for Donny and slammed him up against the wall of the car as it ascended.

  “Thank you,” he breathed into Donny’s mouth, releasing him as soon as the door opened on his floor. Donny, for his part, seemed a little stunned and lingered in the elevator, raising a hand to his lips.

  “What for?” He stepped out and trailed Roland down the hall.

  “The reminder.”

  Donny stood still, slightly shocked once they’d made it inside, his weight propped on the kitchen counter. He scrunched his eyebrows.

  “I’m going to go paint,” Roland said and Donny smiled at him. “Don’t leave?”

  Donny blinked slowly and his smile softened before he answered, “I’ll be here.”

  Roland took one last glance at Donny, then retreated down the hallway toward the studio. Pete was inside, mewling around the legs of the easel and he swished his tail around when Roland shooed him away.

  “Go play with your Daddy. I don’t want to get you messy,” Roland told the cat, ushering him out the door and closing it.

  Roland propped a clean canvas on an easel, pulled his shirt over his head, then opened the curtains to let the light in. He pulled out tubes of cerulean blue and cobalt— he dug out raw umber and permanent rose. Without much thought, he squeezed the color out and mixed the shades he’d seen in his mind and began to paint.

  Roland felt good. It had been so long since he’d truly wanted to paint. He’d spent years forcing it and ending up with less than stellar results. It was as if he’d spent the past year trying to paint in colors that only registered as different shades of gray, and someone had finally handed him a palette full of every vibrant hue on the spectrum. It had been more gradual than that though, just gray, and gray, and gray, then gray with that fucking blue of Donny’s eyes, then gray and blue and that beautiful crimson of Donny’s straining cock. But then a switch flipped when Roland was in the hallway at Gabriel’s and everything lit up like a sunrise.

  And so, he painted.

  Roland looked up when he heard the door open. Donny stuck his head in, a small smile dancing across his lips.

  “You doing okay?”

  Roland wiped a hand across his face and nodded.

  “You’ve been in here for hours. I thought you might want a snack.” Donny dangled a bag of chips in front of him.

  “Hours?” Roland felt revitalized, like he’d just gotten started. He looked ove
r his shoulder and saw the sun had set. He looked back to Donny, then at the canvas he’d been painting. Roland took a breath and set the paintbrush down.

  “Hours.” Donny crossed the room toward him, and placed the chips down on Roland’s stool, then trailed his finger through a smudge of blue paint on Roland’s chest. “You’re a mess. You’re blue.”

  Donny stood beside the canvas, but wouldn’t look at it. He just stared up at Roland with those fucking perfect eyes of his, the ghost of a smile flirting across his lips.

  “Hours.” Roland swallowed. “You can look.”

  Donny shifted his eyes to the side before he turned his face. He gasped audibly when he allowed himself to look at the canvas. Roland loved that he’d waited for permission. He loved the easy way Donny understood him and accepted him, faults and all— grays and all.

  “It’s…” Donny trailed off, then turned to look back at Roland. He reached up and pressed his hand against Roland’s chest. He looked at the painting again, then back to Roland. Donny’s eyes glittered like sunshine was reflecting through his irises. Roland stared at them, then looked at what he’d painted.

  It was a near perfect match.

  Donny slid his hand over the errant paint on Roland’s skin, the sweat from his clammy hands causing the color to spread.

  “It’s?” Roland questioned in a low voice.

  Donny shook his head, then grabbed the ends of Roland’s hair and tugged his face down, pressing their mouths together. Donny sank his teeth into Roland’s bottom lip and moaned when his mouth opened. Roland slid his hands around Donny’s waist and deepened the kiss, pressing their bodies closer together.

  “Take this off,” Roland begged, pulling at the fabric of Donny’s shirt. They managed to get it over Donny’s head and quickly fused their mouths together. The paint from Roland’s chest smeared across Donny’s skin, and he pushed Roland against the wall, knocking over the stool, the chips, and the palette Roland had mixed his paint on.

  Donny separated their mouths and darted his hand out to catch the palette so it didn’t topple, inadvertently smearing purples and reds across his palm. He propped it on a table by the easel and glanced down at his hand.