Chapter Fourteen
Colt is lying in bed watching Marc get ready for work. It's been over two weeks since he's actively looked for a job. It's getting easier to just exist in this house. It's getting easier to make all of his decisions around Marc's schedule and what Marc wants him to do. The only things he gets out of the house for are Drunk Wizard gigs and practices, grocery shopping and beer and alcohol runs.
Marc sits on the edge of the bed beside him to pull on and lace his boots. "I'll be home for dinner tonight, Vanilla. Make me something good."
"I will." Colt's taken to trying new recipes that he gets from online. It's fun, cooking new things. If Marc doesn't like what he cooks they order take out.
Colt reaches out to tickle his fingers at the small of Marc's back over his shirt. "I have an idea... but I might need your help with it."
"Yeah? Tell me your idea."
Colt steels himself, letting go of his pride because of what he's about to do. "I'm thinkin' about trying to be a bartender, but the classes cost money... not as much as like schooling for music or whatever, but still, it's more money than I have and you said I could spend some of your money on me."
He hates having to ask Marc for money. His remaining funds since he's lost his job have dwindled though, barely replenished by gigs with the band.
Marc seems to consider for a moment, reaching out to brush his knuckles over the scruff at Colt's cheek. In the end, he draws a deep breath and shakes his head. "No, Colt. That's not what I meant when I wanted you to spend my money. I meant clothes and books and whatever... stuff you want. Like I said, go get a new violin."
"But-"
"Look, I like that you wanna use the money finally. That's good. But bar tending?" Marc smirks and shakes his head. "Do you know how many people I'd have to kill for flirting with you? I already have to fight it when you're on stage and everyone's looking at you."
Colt is amused and shakes his head. It's hard to tell if Marc would actually kill anyone or if he's joking. "You wouldn't."
"It's asking for trouble." Marc leans down to kiss at Colt's lips and Colt kisses him in return. "The answer's no. Alright? Keep asking me for things though. I wanna say yes when you ask for things."
Colt stares up at Marc for a moment, an explanation of why his trying to do something productive outside of this house a good idea on his lips. He swallows the words down though. Maybe Marc is right. It's asking for trouble. "Alright."
Marc looks pleased with him and that makes Colt smile. "You could stay home today."
That crooked grin makes an appearance and Marc almost laughs. "I could. But I'm going in anyway. How about you do something for me today?"
"What's that?"
"Don't wear any clothes." Marc says, standing up and pulling the sheets with him until Colt is lying there in just his boxer briefs. "I wanna see you naked, all day."
"Is your imagination that good?"
Marc grins again and pulls at Colt's briefs. Colt lets him take them off and lays in their bed naked.
"I don't care what you're doing today, Vanilla. Laundry, dishes, cooking, reading... whatever. No clothes. Yeah?"
Colt looks up at Marc for a long, drawn-out minute before nodding. "No clothes."
"All day."
"All day." Colt agrees as Marc pulls him up from the bed and into an embrace. It feels strange to be naked while Marc is fully dressed. Marc's kisses ease some of that discomfort though.
When Marc leaves, Colt stands naked and alone in the living room. He thinks about all the ways that Marc must be right about his whole bar tending idea. It was a stupid whim, really. Colt definitely doesn't want to invite more trouble in than they already have.
There's a few times when Colt thinks about putting his cut off sweat shorts on after Marc leaves. How would he know as long as Colt takes them off again when Marc is getting home?
He reads a lot. He looks online for more recipes and makes up a grocery list for the next week. He naps and watches TV. Laundry gets done. Every time he thinks about why he's naked, because Marc wants him this way, he's aroused. He's turned on a lot during the day.
Eventually, it's time to cook dinner and Colt has been naked all day.
Colt is rewarded with an amazing blow job when the other man gets home. Marc is always so good at it. Colt still feels like he's fumbling around when he returns the favor. Marc assures him that he's good at it too.
Dinner is cold by the time they get to it, but Marc still tells Colt it's great. Although he wouldn't say it out loud just yet, sometimes Colt thinks this has to be what love is. At a minimum, this version of love is far better than the version he grew up with.
**
It's a Saturday and Marc has been on another job for his uncle for two days now and he doesn't expect him back for another few days. Last night he played a show with the band and he knows he saw some of Rodrigo's men there this time. He imagines Marc asked them to look after him and that's kind of sweet, really.
Colt is outside playing ball with Emmitt when he hears the rumble of Marc's car. Marc is back already.
He's smiling when he enters the house looking for Marc. He finds Marc in their bedroom, digging things out from under the bed.
"Hey, babe. You're back early."
"Yeah, there was a bag under this bed. Where is it?"
Colt shakes his head. "I didn't move any bags."
"Colt." Marc stands up. "You cannot fuck around with this shit. Where's the bag?"
Colt takes a step backward. "I told you, I didn't move any bags. I don't know what you're talking about."
"You didn't? You're sure of that? Like when you were vacuuming or something?" Marc is stepping closer and closer to him and Colt is stepping back until his back hits a wall because he doesn't like how frightening Marc suddenly looks.
Colt goes to that place in his mind where he isn't really listening to or actively present in what's going on around him. He vaguely hears Marc speaking to him. Marc sounds frustrated with him.
Marc pats Colt's cheek harder than necessary like he's trying to wake him up or jog his memory. Colt snaps back into the present situation.
"I need you to think, baby. Think." Both of Marc's palms rest against the wall on either side of Colt's head. "There was a black bag under the bed..."
