The Colors Between Us

by Kate Hawthorne

  Donny stood, nearly tripping over Pete and Elliot as they chased each other under the legs of the table, and Roland guided him down the hallway to the studio. He’d set up a fresh canvas and pulled out some paint and new brushes before Donny arrived. He settled Donny in front of the canvas and stood behind him, wrapping his fingers around Donny’s shoulders.

  “What’s this about?” Donny asked, tilting his head backward so it rested on Roland’s shoulder.

  “Paint with me.”

  “What?” Donny scoffed, but Roland held his shoulders so he couldn’t turn away from the canvas. He leaned down and breathed into Donny’s ear, “Create something beautiful with me.”

  Donny’s body was wracked by a tremor, then he stilled, and his shoulders straightened as he nodded. Roland skirted his fingers down Donny’s arm, raising the fine hairs in his wake, and then covered Donny’s hand with his own, aligning their fingers with ease.

  He used his hand to guide Donny’s toward a brush, which he dragged through a splattering of paint before raising it up to the canvas.

  “Ready?” he whispered, and Donny nodded again.

  Roland touched the brush down against the canvas, creating the basic lines of a flower vase in the center of the canvas.

  “Wipe the brush,” Roland said, gesturing toward a rag on the stool next to them. Donny picked up the rag and wiped the bristles of the brush, Roland’s fingers never lifting from his.

  “Now green.” Their hands dipped the brush into the green paint and Roland lifted them back to the canvas, leaving arching, swooping lines with every pass of the brush until the vase was overflowing with leaves and stems. The painting was starting to take shape and Roland heard Donny’s voice catch in his throat before he spoke.

  “Roland,” he choked out. “What is this?”

  “One of the many things I owe you.”

  There was a part of Roland that was afraid he’d never be able to make things right with Donny, and his fingers reflexively tightened around Donny’s hand as he thought about not being able to get back to where they’d been before. Roland felt Donny’s shoulders shaking against his chest.

  Ten.

  Nine.

  Eight.

  Roland willed himself to not let his regret ruin this moment.

  Seven.

  Six.

  Donny wiped the brush again and dipped it into the red, well aware by this point what they were painting. He lifted both their hands and hovered the brush in front of the canvas without touching it.

  “Show me,” Donny murmured, and Roland pressed the brush against the canvas, painting dozens of red blooms atop the stems. They used a new brush for orange, and layered the colors over the red.

  “Drop it,” Roland instructed, and Donny opened his fingers, letting the brush clatter to the floor. Roland moved Donny’s fingers to a larger brush and swiped it through the blue. “The background, now.”

  Donny filled in the space around the blooms and stems as best he could with Roland’s assistance. He was aware that Donny hadn’t stopped shaking, his entire body vibrating with every pass of the brush. He’d lost track of time, unsure of how long they’d been there, and unwilling to stop and check. It didn’t matter anyway. They were here, together, in this perfect fucking moment, and if this was the last one he got, Roland would hold it tight forever.

  “New brush,” he whispered.

  Donny dropped the brush he’d been holding and it fell to the ground. He reached for a clean brush and as his fingers gripped the handle, Roland released his hand. Donny turned his face so his cheek lay angled against Roland’s shoulder, and he tilted his head up but stopped short of making eye contact. Roland easily made out the dried tear tracks that laced their way down Donny’s cheeks.

  “Why’d you stop?” Donny questioned.

  “White,” Roland replied, and Donny dipped the brush on his own, then tentatively raised it toward the empty stems in the front of the vase. He reached a hand around Donny’s front and pressed his hand flat against his chest, closed his eyes, and felt the pressure of Donny’s heartbeat thump against his palm. “The white has always been you,” he admitted.

  Donny turned his attention back to the canvas and lowered the brush, painting the first daisy with relative ease.

  “Daisies represent innocence,” Roland whispered as Donny moved onto the second bloom. “They are pure,” he added. “You are pure.”

  Donny pulled his hand away from the canvas, shaking his head, but Roland gripped the brush and placed it back against the canvas before letting go.

  “No, I’m not,” Donny said; his voice sounded thick.

  “You are to me. You’re a good thing in a sea of not good things.”

  Donny was painting, so Roland kept talking, his hand still firm against Donny’s heart. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I’ve let my depression get the better of me. It’s hard to fight my own brain. And I’m not saying that being with you fixes it, because it doesn’t.” Donny dipped the brush in more paint and continued painting. “But where you’re involved, there’s so much more color than before.” Roland pressed a kiss to the side of Donny’s head.

  “Roland.”

  “Don’t quit now. See it through,” Roland encouraged, even though he wasn’t sure if he meant the painting or their relationship.

  Donny’s heart accelerated, Roland could feel it under his hand, and Donny picked up some more white and returned the brush to the canvas, painting the remaining daisies. Roland slid both his arms around Donny and lowered them, resting his palms flat against his shirt, barely above the waistband of his pants. Donny made a noise that sounded like resigned need before he finished the last bloom and let the brush fall to the ground. He pressed himself back against Roland and lifted onto his tiptoes so Roland’s hands would skate lower toward his groin.

  Donny raised his arms over his head, twining his fingers together behind Roland’s neck. Roland lowered his face into Donny’s neck and sucked his lips around the skin above his shoulder, intending to leave a mark. Donny gasped and bucked forward against his hands.

  “Please,” he begged, and Roland undid the button of his jeans and slowly slid the zipper down. He glanced down Donny’s body and watched his cock try to press out through the opened zipper, but remain constrained by Donny’s briefs. His own erection pressed against Donny’s back, and Roland palmed Donny’s cock in his hand through the damp fabric, while Donny thrust himself forward and groaned.

  “Tell me what you need,” Roland whispered softly into Donny’s ear. He curled his fingers around Donny’s covered dick and tested a teasing stroke up the protruding length. Donny let out a strangled groan.

  Donny slid his hands into Roland’s hair as he looked upward, then pressed Roland’s head down so they were nearly touching. “Take me to bed,” Donny demanded, before slanting his mouth across Roland’s in a blistering and possessive kiss.

  Chapter 32

  It's Ours Now

  Roland slid his hands down Donny’s body, gripped under his thighs and lifted him up. Donny wrapped his legs around Roland’s waist, unwilling to allow their bodies to part. Roland felt strong and sturdy, and Donny wanted to melt into him. He was desperate to quiet his mind enough to trust Roland, enough to be here in this moment.

  Roland pushed the bedroom door open and carried Donny inside, lowering him down gently. He kissed his way across Donny’s cheek to his ear so he could whisper, “Tell me what you need.”

  Donny’s senses were on overload. Not only was he here with Roland kissing him, touching him, feeling him, but Roland had initiated it. Every touch tonight had been instigated by him. Roland rubbed their bodies together, cocks bumping through the fabric of their pants. Donny arched his back and groaned, “You.”

  It was a heavy answer for a loaded question. Roland’s entire body stilled over his. Donny dragged his hands up Roland’s sides, pulling the material of his shirt up as he went. “I just need you.” He arched upward again to make his point cl
ear.

  Roland leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head, and quickly grabbed Donny’s and tugged it off before he lowered back down and pressed their heated skin together. He sealed their lips, darting his tongue into Donny’s mouth and tangling his fingers into his hair to hold his head in place.

  This was a new Roland, and Donny didn’t hate it. The reciprocity he didn’t even realize he’d been missing heated his blood and hardened his cock like no one ever had before.

  “Are you sure?” Roland asked, a hint of familiar doubt surfacing in his voice. Donny rubbed their noses together, then settled himself in a position where Roland’s eyes were in focus before he answered.

  “Roland, I just need you.”

  For further emphasis, he snaked a hand between them and grabbed Roland’s cock through his pants and squeezed. Roland uttered a curse and reached between them, bumping Donny’s hand away to fumble with the button on his jeans.

  Once divested of the rest of their clothes, Donny pushed himself upward into Roland, rubbing their dicks together, the heads slippery with precum. He was acting needy and clingy, but that was how he felt. He’d never felt more frenzied than he did right now with Roland’s weight on top of him, his breath in his ear.

  Roland stretched to the nightstand and grabbed the lube, then settled back between Donny’s thighs.

  “Roll over,” Donny whispered, and he did, flipping so Donny was now on top, straddling him. Donny ground himself against Roland, sliding forward to grasp Roland’s cock with his ass. Roland pressed his head into the pillows and closed his eyes, but opened them as soon as Donny’s lube slicked hand wrapped around his shaft.

  “Let me at least get you ready first.” Roland said, shocked.

  Donny shook his head with a smile. “I am ready. I just, I need it to be this way.” And that was the truth. Donny was craving the burn and the sting that would come with Roland’s claim. He needed that moment to remind him of everything he had to lose— everything he stood to gain. But not with anyone. Just Roland. Just the two of them.

  Donny gripped the base of Roland’s shaft and lifted up so he was able to angle Roland’s tip against his entrance. His hand shook and he closed his eyes, assaulted by his own feelings of inadequacy. He must have held them in that position for longer than he realized because he felt Roland’s fingers wrap around his own, steadying himself so Donny could take him, but he felt too fucking scared.

  He looked down at Roland smiling underneath him, so fucking perfect, so trusting, so everything. Roland locked his stare onto him, and Donny flattened his hand against Roland’s chest then lowered himself down, inch by inch, onto Roland’s erection.

  Donny’s mouth opened to cry out, but no sound louder than a gasp escaped. He forced his eyes open as he took Roland inside of him until he was fully seated. His breathing felt stunted, like every lungful of air was dragged into his body by force. He was sure there was something that should be said, but not a single word made its way from his mouth.

  Roland waited until Donny made the first move, and before he could slide himself back down, Roland sat up, wrapping his arms around Donny’s back and looping his hands over the top of his shoulders. Donny’s arms instantly went around Roland in return and then they were nose to nose, breathing in each other’s exhalations, but otherwise unmoving.

  “I’m sorry,” Roland whispered into Donny’s mouth.

  Donny managed to move his head in a small nod, then he lifted slightly and rocked himself back down against Roland.

  “Forgive me?” Roland asked, and he managed another nod, quickening his movements.

  Donny’s cock was painfully hard and throbbed between their bodies as he fucked himself down around Roland’s dick. This was what he’d been needing, what he’d been missing. This feeling, this connection he felt when Roland was brave enough to look at him. And here, in this bed, Roland wouldn’t take his eyes off Donny.

  “I almost forgot,” Roland choked out. “Jesus, you feel perfect.” He slammed his lips against Donny’s and thrust upward, crying out into Donny’s mouth as his cock emptied. Donny felt the twitches and spasms as Roland’s orgasm rolled through him.

  Roland gasped into his mouth, never closing his eyes and Donny pressed a hand to his chest, disconnecting their bodies slightly and lowering Roland back to the mattress. Donny grabbed the lube and poured it over himself, stroking his cock twice before lifting off Roland with a wince. He repositioned himself easily between Roland’s thighs and notched his cock against Roland’s entrance, dragging it over his hole once before pushing inside.

  Donny dropped down and braced his shoulders against the back of Roland’s thighs, pushing them upward and pressing deeper inside him. Roland propped himself on an elbow and placed a hand around Donny’s neck, tugging him up the bed so he could kiss him.

  Donny had more feelings running through him than he could put names to. His brain was simultaneously muddled and clear, and he fucked Roland with a sense of ownership he hadn’t felt before, and Roland took him beautifully, mumbling words of affection and apology over and over again.

  He grasped Roland’s chin between his thumb and forefingers, a hold meant to feel punishing without pain. Roland’s lips parted and his eyes glistened as he watched Donny claim him with every eager thrust.

  “I love you, okay?” Donny croaked. “I fucking love you so much.”

  His orgasm built inside him like a firestorm and exploded outward, his cock filling Roland with cum, and Donny collapsed on top of him. Roland wrapped his arms around Donny easily and held them in place— held them together.

  “Please don’t do it again,” Donny whispered into Roland’s neck. “Please don’t push me away again.”

  Roland shook his head and placed a hand against the back of Donny’s head. He turned and pressed a kiss to Donny’s temple.

  “I promise,” Roland said. “I promise you, I’ll try to always be the man you deserve.”

  Donny let out a breath that felt like it released him from all the anger, and pain and confusion he’d felt the past week. He focused on the way Roland’s arms felt around him, and the way his cock felt, throbbing with aftershocks of his orgasm inside of the man he loved.

  Donny woke the next morning, tangled in a sweaty mass of Roland’s limbs. He groaned and shifted himself so he could get a leg out, and Roland grumbled, then settled back with his head resting on Donny’s chest.

  “Does this mean we’re boyfriends now?” Roland chuckled, his voice thick with sleep. Donny carded his fingers through Roland’s hair and laughed.

  “Are you in the market for a boyfriend?”

  “Only you.”

  “Mmmmn,” he hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of Roland’s head. “Thank you, for last night.”

  “Thank you. I like these flowers better than the first ones anyway.”

  “I don’t think I’d take it that far.”

  Roland nodded against Donny’s chest. “It’s true. Because they’re ours now.” A silence stretched between then, and Donny massaged his fingers into Roland’s scalp while they lay together. “I know you probably know, but we’ve never talked about it.”

  “About what?” Donny’s fingers faltered, then resumed.

  “I was diagnosed with depression years ago. That’s what my meds are for. And, I just started seeing a therapist. To help with things.”

  “Does it?”

  “It seems like it.”

  “That’s all either of us can ask for then.” Donny said quietly. After a moment, he spoke again. “I hate to tell you this, but I need to work today.”

  Roland groaned and rolled off of him.

  “Can I see you later?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Donny sat up and situated himself with the pillows behind him, and he tugged Roland so his head was resting on his lap. Donny carded his fingers through Roland’s hair and watched his eyes drift closed.

  “Roland.”

  His eyes opened.

  “You are
a far better man than I deserve.”

  Roland scoffed.

  “I mean it.” Donny swatted a hand against Roland’s shoulder. “I get it though, I get this. I don’t expect it to be easy. Hell, I’d probably be disappointed if it was easy. What I mean is, you’re worth the work.” He offered Roland a cockeyed smile.

  “I disagree.” Roland frowned slightly.

  “I’m not surprised.” Donny smiled and folded his body down so he could kiss Roland. “Good thing it’s not your problem then, isn’t it?” He pushed his way out of bed so he could get in the shower and get ready for work.

  Donny turned the water on and stepped inside. He was using his fingers to push the water through his hair when the shower door opened and Roland crowded in behind him.

  “What a nice surprise,” Donny murmured as Roland stepped up to him, pressing his chest to Donny’s back. Roland’s arms slid around him and his hand snaked down Donny’s torso until his fingers dragged across the base of his dick. Roland stroked him until he’d hardened.

  Donny rolled his head against Roland’s shoulder. “Fuck, Roland.”

  “We can’t,” Roland teased. “You’ve gotta go to work.”

  “I can be late,” Donny pleaded.

  Roland chuckled and turned Donny so they were facing each other, “I have a better idea.” Roland slid down to his knees and swallowed Donny’s cock.

  Chapter 33

  A Perfect Match

  It had been an anticlimactic six months, all things considered. Roland had felt happy with Donny being around. They learned about each other, and the relationship Roland had started out fighting had developed into something bountiful. He looked forward to the nights they spent together, when he could wake up with Donny’s skin pressed against his, or Donny’s cum dried on the backs of his thighs— oftentimes, both.