“I wasn’t drunk,” Roland shot back, his fingers unwittingly tracing the lines Donny had drawn in his book.
“But you can’t remember it enough to paint it less than twenty-four hours later?” Donny was angry, his voice tempestuous. He was worth more than this. He deserved better.
“It’s not that I don’t remember it.” Roland threw the sketchbook across the room and it bounced off the wall by Donny’s head. “It just won’t fucking come out. There’s something wrong between here,” Roland pointed at his head as his voice grew louder. “And here.” He waved his hands around.
“Bullshit.” Donny snorted a laugh while he bent down to pick up his sketchbook. “You’re Roland fucking Wilson. You think I don’t know who you are?”
“Yeah? Who am I?” Roland advanced on Donny.
“A successful fucking artist, to start with. And a functioning alcoholic probably, while we’re on the subject.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” Roland fisted his hands and glared at Donny.
“Well, that’s not really my fault now, is it?”
They stood toe-to-toe, Donny glaring up at Roland and Roland shooting daggers back at him. Donny could feel his body shaking with anger and arousal and he couldn’t decide which was the more overpowering feeling..
“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to know, anyway.” Roland’s attitude shifted in the blink of an eye and he stepped backward, giving Donny space to breathe.
“No way, don’t you fucking dare check out on me again.” Donny launched himself forward, slamming his lips against Roland’s and forcing his tongue into Roland’s mouth. Roland wrapped his fingers around Donny’s waist and walked him backward into the wall, pushing his shoulder blades into the plaster with a thud.
Donny oomphed out a rush of air from the impact and grabbed Roland’s face in his hands so he couldn’t pull away from the kiss. Donny explored Roland’s mouth with his tongue and kept his face secure in his hands, unwilling to allow an inch of space between them. He separated their mouths briefly, to take a breath.
“You infuriate me, Roland.” Donny pressed his lips back against Roland’s, a little bit softer, but just as insistent.
“I’m sorry,” Roland apologized into his mouth.
Donny groaned.
Roland skirted his fingertips along the waistband of Donny’s jeans and Donny’s cock pulsed with renewed pleasure. He arched into Roland’s touch and Roland’s fingers delved inside the band of his briefs, grazing the base of Donny’s cock.
Donny closed his eyes, gasping into Roland’s mouth, “Please.”
Roland popped the button on Donny’s jeans and tentatively explored the length of Donny’s cock with his fingers. Roland fondled and stroked him from base to tip. Donny separated their mouths and his eyes rolled back in his head. He let go of Roland’s face and pressed his palms flat against the wall.
“Fuck yes, Roland. Please.” Donny wasn’t above begging. He was still mad, but the arousal was winning, and Roland wastouchinghim, and Donny could have died happy in that moment.
Roland jerked Donny’s cock and Donny met every thrust with a press of his hips. Roland’s eyes were closed, his hair hanging around his face like a shield.
“Look at me,” Donny pleaded, reaching up to brush Roland’s hair behind his ears. “Please, Roland. Look at me.”
Roland shook his head slightly, causing his hair to obscure his entire face before he opened his eyes. Donny moved Roland’s hair aside and the feelings that flamed behind his eyes could have set them both on fire. Roland wanted this, but he hated that he wanted it. That felt like a breakthrough, as far as Donny was concerned. Roland snaked another hand between them and cupped Donny’s balls, offering them a light squeeze.
“Oh, fuck,” Donny moaned, and he grabbed Roland by the neck, pulling him down and sealing their mouths together. Roland kissed him back, and Donny’s cock exploded, coating Roland’s hand with cum. Roland stroked him, using his cum for lube, and continued the motion until Donny was trembling and pushing back into the wall to get away.
Roland released him and held his hand up between them. Donny grabbed Roland around the wrist and raised his palm to his mouth, licking a stripe from his wrist to fingers, filling his mouth with his own cum. Donny thumped his head back against the wall and licked his lips, dropping Roland’s hand.
“What was that about?” Donny asked after regaining his composure.
“I’m not the things you say. I’m not an alcoholic. I’m not a fuck up.”
Donny cocked an eyebrow at Roland’s last defense.
“I just made a mistake.” Roland’s voice was quiet and his eyes were downcast. Donny’s cum dripped from his hand to the floor.
“Yeah, me too.” Donny stepped around Roland and picked up his sketchbook from the floor. Donny flipped through it, looking for a specific sketch he’d done of Roland, and then he extended it toward him. Roland looked at Donny and took the sketchbook. Roland’s mouth scrunched up in the corner, and his eyebrows pressed together as he looked at the drawing. He tentatively raised a hand and traced the lines of the drawing with his pointer finger.
Roland looked up from the page and locked his eyes on Donny’s chin, his own eyes shining with tears. He closed them in a long blink before he was able to look up and meet Donny’s stare.
