Grant & Theo
GRANT & THEO
Grant woke alone, the morning sun streaming through the eastern window. He stared at the empty space beside him, listening closely to the house. There came no clatter, no soft footsteps, only the creak of the wood and the muffled sound of the waves outside.
He sat up, finding the two cats curled at the end of the bed. Grant’s clothes were still scattered about the hardwood floor, but there wasn’t a trace of Theo’s. Hoping the uncomfortable curl in his gut was wrong, Grant slid out from beneath the sheets and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
“Theo?” he called from the top of the stairs.
The returning silence settled roughly in his gut.
Taking a deep breath, he walked down the stairs, finding nothing but his furniture to greet him. Grant looked through the doors to the veranda, finding no cloud of smoke drifting on the wind to signify where Theo might be.
He walked into the kitchen, hoping maybe the man was out front instead. His eyes stuttered over a pad of paper beside the coffeemaker, a familiar scrawl on it. He picked it up, shoulders sagging as he read the two words.
I’m sorry
“Oh,” he whispered.
* * *
Scowling, Theo transferred the phone to his other shoulder. “Is that all you called for?”
Blair sighed. “Yes, Theo. All I called for was to see how you’ve been because you like to drop off the face of the planet, and I was concerned after three weeks of silence.”
“Well, obviously I’m alive,” he told her.
The morning light was too damn bright, and it wasn’t helping the pain radiating through his skull as he sprawled against his couch. He’d always intended to put up blackout curtains but kept forgetting to set money aside. As the headache grew stronger, he was growing to regret it.
“Well, aren’t you in a wonderful and shining mood today?” she asked grumpily.
“The sun is shining out of my ass.”
“More like you have something stuck up there.”
He rolled his eyes. “Right, okay.”
She groaned. “Christ, is that the problem? Have you gone weeks without getting laid?”
Theo flinched, hating the guilt that settled into his chest like a brick. There was no doubt in his mind that Grant would be waking up soon, and he would find the cowardly message Theo had left behind. The only thing that kept him on his couch instead of running to take it back was the all-too-close sound of water surrounding him.
No, he had to breathe, and he couldn’t do that with Grant around him, not anymore.
“I’m fine. Thank you for being so worried about my sex life,” he ground out.
“Seriously. The last time you were this foul, you’d been around your mother for more than five minutes.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening again.”
“Is this where I ask what’s wrong and where you tell me it’s none of my business.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Theo. Why are you so keen on keeping the world out?”
“I paint the fucking world!” he spat out, thrusting an arm toward his studio space.
“You observe it, you capture it, but that’s just another way to keep it out.”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil. I appreciate the life advice. When’s your next book coming out?”
Her annoyed reply was cut off by his phone buzzing in his hand. Glad to have an excuse not to listen to her, he pulled his phone away from his ear and opened the message blindly.
I’m sorry too.
Theo closed his eyes, letting out a slow, shaky breath. It felt like he’d been dunked in ice water, and he bowed his head forward to take another breath. He wasn’t sure how long it took him to realize Blair was still talking, her voice tinny coming from the phone.
“I’ve got to go,” he told her softly, ending the call.
He turned his phone off, letting it drop to the cushions.
* * *
Feeling eyes on him, Grant looked up to find Lydia studying him carefully. “What?”
She pointed at him with a fork. “Whatcha doing?”
Grant motioned to the bowl in front of him on the table. “Having lunch.”
She raised a brow. “Weird.”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, it’s weird because you’ve spent more time pushing it around the bowl than actually eating it. That and this is the second day in a row you’ve been in the break room.”
He couldn’t argue with her first point. “Are doctors not allowed to eat in the break room?”
“You always eat in your office or snack as you walk around.”
He shrugged. “I’m allowed to change things up if I want.”
“Uh-huh.”
Grant turned his attention back to the bowl. Knowing Lydia was still watching him, he stabbed some of the leafy greens and chicken to shove into his mouth. He had to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose as he chewed. The chicken was dry, and the dressing was too vinegary. Then again, as much as he’d like to blame the sub place for making bad salads, nothing tasted all that great to him.
“Doesn’t that look tasty,” Lydia commented.
“Is there something you’re trying to get at Lydia, or are you content to sit there and make idle commentary?” Grant asked tightly.
“Oh. Been a while since you were in a bad mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood,” he lied.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
Grant closed his eyes. “I appreciate that, and if I need a talk, you’ll be the first one I come to.”
The derogatory noise she made told him she didn’t believe him, but it did, thankfully, make her grow quiet. He appreciated her concern, but he was happy to frown at his salad and be left alone.
Lydia left a few minutes later, and Grant felt her eyes on him until she was gone. In the now-empty room, he let out a shaky breath. Against every logical thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket. He wasn’t surprised to find no messages, but it didn’t stop the nauseating swoop of his stomach.
Hadn’t he known this was a possibility? Hadn’t he seen the caginess in Theo’s eyes? Grant had seen it alright, but he’d always dismissed it, telling himself it was nothing to worry about. If Theo was going to leave, he would leave no matter what Grant said. He’d expected it to happen sooner than it did, but he told himself it would always be a possibility.
He just hadn’t realized how much it would hurt.
* * *
Growling in frustration, Theo slapped the brush down on the nearby table. He jerked as red paint flicked from the end, splattering across his cheek. With another snarl of frustration, he smacked the offending object away from him with a swipe of his hand.
“Fucking shit,” he huffed, picking up a towel to wipe his face.
For two days, he’d been trying to get something, anything at all, onto a fresh canvas. He’d told himself it didn’t matter what, as long as it was halfway decent. Emily had managed to contact him, Blair undoubtedly giving the woman his number. She told him about the interest in another show. He could definitely use more money, and he’d set himself to work.
Yet it didn’t matter what he did, it all turned to absolute shit within a matter of hours. He’d tossed out more half-finished paintings in the past forty-eight hours than he’d done in four months. The colors were wrong, the shapes grotesque, the entire idea was utter nonsense, and a litany of other criticisms thrown at them from his lips.
From the couch, his phone chirped happily, alerting him to a message.
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” he hissed at it.
Still grumbling, he stomped over to the couch. He would have happily kept the thing off for five days but needed to keep it on. After Emily had contacted him, he needed to make sure he updated her, showing his interest in a new show.
That didn’t explain why he kept his phone on after her call, but he tried not to focus too hard on that.
He unlocked the screen. Sure enough, he found a message from Emily, throwing dates his way to see which ones would stick. All of them were within a month or two, and with the lack of progress on his part, Theo wasn’t sure any of them would work. He thought about ignoring the message but tossed the idea aside immediately. She would end up contacting Blair, who’d rip him up one side and down the other for ignoring her.
So instead, he told her he’d have to get back to her about a later date and that the muse was being a fussy bitch. He’d never referred to his work as being motivated by an actual muse. It sounded so goddamn pretentious. But he also knew she was used to dealing with temperamental and fickle creative types and wouldn’t bat an eye.
Not caring what she had to say, he tossed the phone aside and turned back to his easel. Even having taken a break from the current attempt, he still hated it. Christ, what had he been thinking, trying to capture the ocean and cliffs again? The cliff looked like it was made out of Legos, and the sunset looked like someone threw up after a Sex on the Beach cocktail.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
His eyes fell on the painting he’d finished before everything went to hell. The last good thing he’d done or even thought of.
It was the cave Theo had known and loved for so many years. The dark walls sparkled faintly from seawater and moonlight, while the shadows further back were long and foreboding. Yet just before the cave’s mouth sat two figures, nondescript save for the dark outline, bathed in moonlight as they sat together, staring out at the ocean. The canvas sat beside the painting he’d finished days before, the little restaurant, dimly lit, and a warm hand resting upon the table.
“Fuck that.”
* * *
He threw an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the intrusion of the sunlight coming through the window. Grant still had a few hours before his shift, but he felt he could sleep for at least three more.
He groaned at the thought, forcing a pillow over his face. He could have understood if he’d been a miserable bastard for a few days after Theo disappeared. That would have been acceptable. But here it was, almost a week and a half later, and he was still morose and dragging his heels.
The man had made his choice, and it hadn’t been Grant. It didn’t change that he wished he’d had at least one full night with Theo, to wake up with him in his bed, wrapped in his arms. Then again, it might have made the departure all the more painful.
Two weights padded their way up each of his legs and then over his hips. Grant couldn’t help his small smile at the duet of purring, both sounding like dying weed whackers as they grew closer.
Grant sighed, peeking out to run his hands over the cats. “What am I going to do, MD? This is sad, pining over a guy who wasn’t ever mine to begin with.”
The cat duo responded by flopping gracelessly on top of him.
He scritched behind Mike’s ears and under Delta’s chin. “Mom tried to warn me, didn’t she? In her bossy, nosy way, she tried to warn me. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else, though, huh? He’s young and having fun. I’m officially middle-aged and set in my ways. It would never have worked anyway.”
Delta batted gently at his face while Mike chirped softly.
Grant nodded. “I guess it was always going to be this way. Doesn’t make me feel any better, though.”
And it didn’t stop him staring at the painting in his office when he was forced to go in there. It didn’t stop him keeping the letter Theo had left, even if it did send a knife through his chest. It didn’t stop Grant looking over their text conversations, wishing he could have figured out something, anything at all to have stopped the inevitable.
“Just a little heartbreak, right guys?” he asked.
He sighed as they nuzzled against him, closing their eyes contentedly.
Yeah, only a little.
* * *
Okay, the club had been a bad idea. Theo knew that now.
He was drunk, cranky, and had absolutely no patience for the clumsy attempts of his ‘peers’ to try and get into his pants. At least the one guy who’d tried to stick his hands down Theo’s pants had been direct. He’d also been shitfaced and incapable of getting past the waistband, practically spraining his wrist in the process.
“Idiot,” Theo muttered, drinking from the beer he’d snuck out of the club.
So, instead of being drunk and getting laid to give his mind some rest, he stumbled his way back home, drunk and alone. At least twice on the way back, he found himself with his phone in his hand. Once, it had been with Grant’s contact info pulled up, his finger almost pressing the call button before he’d stuffed his phone away. The next time was the text history, and Theo had to stop walking as shame hit him so hard he felt the world spin.
Or maybe he was just that drunk.
He at least managed to make it back to his building without much fuss, which was something he could be thankful for. The gratitude went sour when he tripped and sprawled on the first landing with a jarring thud.
“Goddammit,” he muttered, thumping his head against the wood.
“That’s one word for it.”
He jerked guiltily at the sound of his cousin’s voice. He’d heard Blair irritated, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard her sound pissed before. Rolling over, he faced her as she stood on the stairs above him.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked dimly, trying to push himself upright.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Wondering what the ever living hell has happened to you.”
“I got drunk. Didn’t get laid, though. That’s a shame.”
“You made Emily cry.”
“She wouldn’t leave me alone about the goddamn show. It’ll happen when I can get something done.”
“Your apartment is a disaster. Paint everywhere.”
“Shit happens, Blair, it’ll get cleaned.”
“You haven’t answered any messages of mine in over two weeks.”
“I’ve been busy with this show you guys want me to do so damn bad.”
Her nostrils flared. “And you’re being a bigger prick than I’ve ever seen you before.”
Well, that stopped him cold. Blair didn’t take any shit, though she was more lenient with his. But Blair Atkins never never raised her voice, and she sure as shit didn’t swear more than an occasional hell.
“Uh, what?” he managed.
“You heard me. You’re being an absolute fucking asshole to everyone who’s just trying to help you.”
“Ugh, I don’t want help,” he muttered, rolling onto his stomach.
“Look, I don’t know what is going on with you. I haven’t seen you act like this big of an asshole since we were teens, and your mom made you end?—”
He froze. “Blair.”
“You met someone.”
“Don’t.”
“That’s why you were so quiet but happy for weeks. And why you’re like this now.”
“I’m serious,” he growled, pushing unsteadily to his feet.
She smiled gently at him. “Oh, Theo.”
He shook his head with an angry snort. “I’m not having this conversation. I’m going to bed and forgetting you ever brought this up.”
She sighed, speaking again only when he got to the next landing. “Go to the Center, Theo. You haven’t been in weeks, I know.”
“I…” he began, not sure what his protest would be.
“Go, Theo. It always makes you feel better. And those kids love seeing you. It’s been too long.”
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. He didn’t know why, but they did love seeing him. And she was right, it had been far too long since his last visit, it was long overdue.
“I’m sorry he broke your heart,” Blair said softly.
His throat tightened. “He didn’t.”
Theo took the next step, and the one after that, trying to ignore the tension in his chest, the feeling like something was yanking him apart from within.
“I did that just fine on my own.”