"Do you, man. I'm going to get some work done." Othello stepped into his office and did just that.
Later that night, Othello entered Des's apartment, shaking his head at Des for not locking the door as he set the grocery bags on the counter. The neighborhood was safe, but you never knew what could happen. He then went and searched for his lover. Hehad texted Des and told him he’d be stopping by after work, so maybe that's why he left the door unlocked.
Othello looked around the apartment and noticed that Des had unpacked more boxes since the last time he had been there. It didn't look like he had a lot to fill his large apartment. Taking the stairs two at a time, his brows creased together when he got to the top of the stairs, hearing voices that not only belonged to Des. He walked down the hall. They were in the part of the apartment that Des had designed as his studio. He was about to interrupt but stopped when he heard his name mentioned.
"Do you think Othello will like it?"
"I do. This is brilliant work, Des. When you quit working at the hospital, I doubted that you could do this, but after seeing this, I believe you can make it as an artist."
"Thanks, Gray. I needed to hear that. To be honest, I doubt myself. I still do. I keep wondering if my parents were right and I'm no good at this."
"Hey, man, don't do that to yourself. This is your dream. This is something that you've wanted to do your entire life. Remember, your grandfather believed you could do this, or he wouldn't have defied your parents."
"I know. And I just don't wanna let him down. I want him to look down from wherever he is and be proud of me. Be proud that I put my everything into this."
"He is, and he will be. Just keep doing what you're doing. And when you become super famous and mega rich, I'll be able to say that's my best friend."
"Quit that. I'm not doing this for fame, but I don't mind the mega-rich part."
Hearing the silence between them, Othello pushed the door open. "He's right, you know."
Both men gasped and turned to look at him. "Othello, what are you doing here?" asked Des.
"I texted you and told you I was coming. Your door was unlocked, so I let myself in." Although he was speaking to Des, his eyes zeroed in on the man who called himself his lover's best friend. Who would've guessed it was someone he’d had run-ins with.
"Oh, damn," Des said. "I was so focused on finishing up the painting that I didn't hear my phone."
"Detective Gratiano, I didn't expect to see you here," Othello said, moving farther into the room.
"You know each other? Gray, you never mentioned that."
"Only in passing," Gray answered, glaring at Othello, who smirked at his feeble attempt. "Mr. Moor and I have spoken a time or two."
Hearing that, Othello quirked an eyebrow in the man's direction.Is that what he wants to call it? Fine, then we'll go with that.
"Alright, I can tell you to have plans, so I'm going to head out," said Gray.
"Are you sure? Don't you want to stay for dinner?" Des said. "I would love for my best friend and my lover to get along."
"I bought enough groceries for only the two of us," Othello added before the detective could respond.
"Oh." Des sighed, then turned to look at Gray. “How about we change plans and meet for lunch or dinner some other time?"
"That sounds great." Gray smiled, then leaned in and kissed Des on one cheek. "Don't give up on yourself, Des."
He looked at Othello, this time less threatening, and nodded as he walked by him.
"Let me walk him out," Des said, coming over to kiss Othello.
While he was gone, Othello took the time to observe the painting Des had done for him. Weeks back, he’d commissioned a painting of Alessandro and Maria on their wedding day. To be given to them at the anniversary party. Othello had taken a gamble since he had never seen Des's work, but looking at the artwork, he could only say he'd made the right decision.
Des had captured the essence of the couple's love. He had gone a bit further by incorporating a pose of them now, with Alessandro holding Maria possessively, staring deep into her eyes with admiration that would make anyone jealous, desiring the same kind of affection just standing in front of the artwork. Othello had only given Des the wedding picture, so the other pose had to be taken from his heart.
"I hope you like it," Des said, standing beside him. Othello heard the slight tremor in his voice, and he could tell the man was nervous.
"I feel that it is wrong you won't let me pay you for this," Othello said, gazing at Des. "The detective is right, and as someone who appreciates fine art, your confidence comes out in your work. Don't sell yourself short, Doc."
That brought a genuine smile to Des's face, and his cute dimples became more pronounced.
