Chapter Fifteen
There are black roses on the dining room table, a bouquet of them that Marc keeps replenishing since Colt let him back into the house a week ago. Colt stares at them as he waits for the timer to go off so he can take dinner out of the oven. Black roses are beautifully sad, he thinks. Or maybe that's just how he's been feeling lately -- not beautiful, just sad.
Things have been rocky between him and Marc, not from Marc's end, rocky from Colt's end of things. Marc keeps meeting each obstacle Colt gives him and pushing past them until Colt succumbs to him, but then, after awhile, Colt begins to overthink things again. It's become a vicious cycle in his mind.
How did he get here?
It's his fault, he decides. He texted Marc and let him get a foot in the door. How could he have known that that was all that Marc needed to permeate everything in Colt's life? It was over from that moment because Marc is who he is and Colt is who he is. The moment Colt texted him, the moment he let Marc be brave for him, that was it. This was the only possible outcome.
Colt scratches at his beard. He needs to trim it up a bit. He's taken to wearing his hair up in a bun since Marc had used his sandy blond locks against him when he was angry. He'd thought about cutting it off short but Marc had told him that he didn't want that. Marc likes his hair the way it is. It's grown down past his shoulders.
The timer beeps, drawing him out of his thoughts. Colt goes to the oven to open it, sprinkle some cheese on top of the casserole and then put it back in for five more minutes.
He looks up at the corner of the kitchen above the cabinets where he now knows there's a camera. Is Marc watching him now?
He'd asked Marc to remove them. Marc had convinced him they were needed now, now that their house has been broken into, the cameras are needed. Colt couldn't disagree.
A top-notch security system was installed this week. Marc says it was needed as well. Colt couldn't disagree. It freaks him out to think too much about the fact that someone had broken in without their knowing about it. Nothing else was touched as far as he can tell. Nothing else was stolen, just the bag of drugs.
When Colt asked about who was in their house he was told he doesn't need to worry about it anymore. Colt still worries about it, but he didn't press for more. Maybe he should have, but he remembers Marc telling him that it isn't his place.
It's best for him to keep out of it.
Colt doesn't like to think about the things Marc has seen on video without Colt's having known it was going on. He'd seen innocent things like Colt dancing to music and singing loudly to music. Then he'd seen more intimate things; Colt pleasuring himself in bed and in the shower, when he'd gotten himself off on the couch while on the phone with Marc, the day he'd spent naked. Not to mention Colt on his knees numerous times giving Marc blow jobs.
They'd had a long conversation about it. Marc installed the cameras the first time Colt had left him alone at the house. Colt asked if he kept any of the video. Marc admitted that he did. It's the best kind of porn, Marc had said. Then he'd made Colt sit and watch video on his phone, video with Colt on his knees sucking Marc off.
It's strange to see yourself do that, maybe especially so for Colt. It's also an eye-opening experience. Watching the video, Colt sees irrefutable evidence that he likes doing the things that Marc and he do together. In a strange, twisted way, he enjoys watching it.
Marc convinced him that no one would see. It was just for him. Then he fed Colt whiskey and they fooled around. Colt succumbed.
The timer beeps again and Colt takes dinner out of the oven to set it on top of the stove. He looks at the clock. Marc isn't home yet. He's usually home by now.
He goes into the bathroom to trim his beard and mustache to pass the time until Marc gets home. When he's done with that and Marc still isn't here, Colt texts him.
Colt: Still at work?
He stares at himself in the mirror. The bruising around his nose is now a dark yellow and brown color. He'd called Sam and told him he was sick this past Friday night, skipping his first Drunk Wizard's show since he'd joined the band years ago. He hated bowing out of a show, but he didn't want the questions. He didn't go to church on Sunday either. In fact, he hasn't left the house since he got the injury. Colt is ready for the bruising to be completely gone. He doesn't want to be reminded of how he got it every time he looks at his reflection.
Out of sight, out of mind.
When there's no reply to his text ten minutes later, Colt lays down in bed and opens his latest book. He doesn't read a word, instead losing himself in his head space until he falls asleep.
**
It's very early the next morning, before most people are up, before the sun has even started to rise, when he slowly wakes up to the sound of the shower running. Colt lays there, listening to the sounds of Marc showering, listening to the water turn off and the curtain pushed aside, listening to Marc brush his teeth.
The bathroom door opens, only briefly flashing bright light into the bedroom before Marc turns the light off. The other man collapses into the bed and pulls the covers up over him.
As Marc wraps himself around Colt, Colt realizes Marc is completely naked. He feels a kiss to his shoulder, up on his neck and back down to his shoulder again.
"You awake, Vanilla?" Marc whispers.
Colt thinks about pretending to be asleep for a few seconds. That's stupid though. Why would he even think about that? "I'm awake. You missed dinner. I was worried about you."
"I did and I'm sorry. I had unexpected business that came up."
