“The door at the end of the hallway,” Roland offered in return as he unlatched the carrier and opened his hands for Pete.
Donny watched the kitten scamper happily into Roland’s outstretched palms, not the least inhibited by his bandaged paw. Pete meowed and leveraged himself up Roland’s arm to his shoulder. He stretched across it like he was a goddamn parrot and meowed softly as he wove his way into Roland’s tangled hair.
Donny rolled his eyes and pushed the cart ahead of him and into the room at the end of the hall, like Roland had indicated, but was surprised to find it completely empty.
“Anywhere in particular?” he called over his shoulder.
Roland approached him, parrot Pete still burrowed into his hair. “Wherever. I’ll set it all up later.”
Donny nodded and pushed the cart to the window in the corner and started to stack the boxes on the floor. Roland flipped the light switch on and it startled Donny. He looked up and blinked, trying to get his vision to adjust to the sudden brightness. Roland’s face tensed, and then softened, like he’d seen the culmination of all his dreams manifest right in front of him.
No one had ever looked at Donnythat way before, and he’d be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t wish the intent behind the look wasmeantfor him. He could get used to the intensity harbored inside those bottomless green eyes, and he longed to see how beautiful they looked when Roland was desperate to come. Donny watched a range of emotions fly across Roland’s face, from shock, to desire, to sadness, before his features finally settled on something that might have resembled tentative happiness. Donny wanted to fuck Roland right out of tentative and into absolute.
Donny couldn’t stop his lip from tipping up into a smile before he looked down and straightened the boxes on the ground so he could busy his hands.
“Will you look at me?” Roland whispered, raising his hands to untangle Pete and lower him to the ground. Pete hobbled across the concrete toward Donny, his bandaged foot sliding out from underneath him as he went.
Donny looked up, his eyes sharp and appraising. Roland stepped closer, extending his hand toward him, but stopping before he was close enough to touch. Donny’s breath caught in his chest as he stood only inches away from Roland. His head barely reached Roland’s shoulder and he sucked in a gasp when he felt Roland’s exhaled breath blow across the top of his head.
Roland’s chest was broad, his shoulders far wider than Donny’s. He thought how nice it would be to tuck himself against Roland’s heaving chest and feel Roland’s arms wrap around his back and hold him. Roland would be far warmer than a body pillow and his arms would hold him in return. Roland’s hips would buck…
Donny blinked, forcing himself out of that thought. He was not trying to get a fucking boner in front of his sexiest client. He wanted to save that for when he was home alone later and could do something about it.
Roland grazed his finger across the top of Donny’s collarbone, to his shoulder, and down his arm. His touch was feather-light, like he wasn’t sure if he should allow himself the indulgence of touching someone else’s skin.
“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” Donny blurted out as he watched the rise and fall of Roland’s chest.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Roland replied, his breath ghosting across Donny’s ear.
“Why not?” He raised a hand and gently grazed his fingers across Roland’s exposed forearm.
Roland stepped back, severing their connection. “You don’t know me.”
Donny raised his eyes to see a look of utter misery cross Roland’s face just as the moment was shattered by the sound of boxes clattering to the ground. They both looked down to see a box of paintbrushes come open and watched the contents roll across the polished floor toward an upside down Pete, who was half hidden under a blank canvas.
“I’m sorry, he’s a handful,” Donny apologized, dropping to his knees to collect the brushes so he could organize them back into the box. Roland picked up the ones that had rolled farther away and handed them to Donny, connecting their skin once more. Donny yanked his hand away, unable to quell the increasingly deviant thoughts in his head when he was in actual contact with Roland.
“How are you going to watch him if you have to work? You can’t cart him all over the city with you.” Roland took the box of brushes from Donny and set them on the windowsill, near two containers of paint.
“I’m off tomorrow, and he can manage the drive for a day or two after that.” Donny side-eyed Pete, not entirely convinced that Pete wouldn’t drive him insane wreaking havoc on all of his deliveries. He just didn’t trust Pete at home with Jack and Jill until the bandage was gone.
“He can stay with me,” Roland offered, and Donny chuckled.
“I don’t even know you.”
Roland took a step closer, then hesitated and stepped back. Donny glanced downward, skated his gaze over the torn of fabric of his sneakers and across the space to Roland’s bare feet. He had long feet and pale, slender toes. Donny couldn’t help but notice how soft Roland’s skin looked, and then couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how badly he wanted to touch it.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow, then we’ll know each other.” Donny propositioned, looking up, and Roland stared at him like a deer in headlights.
“I don’t—” Roland started to protest
Donny smiled and took a step closer. “No, stop. Let me make it easy for you. I’ll bring you dinner. We can eat here. No stress, no pressure. I’ll bring Pete and he can get the lay of the land. Then, when I’m convinced you’re not a serial killer, Pete can stay.”
Roland nodded. “Alright. What time?”
Donny smiled. “I’ll be here at six.”
“Six,” Roland repeated, sounding unsure.
