Epilogue
EPILOGUE
One Year Later
With a heavy sigh, Grant opened the front door to the bungalow. It felt like his shift at the hospital had been never-ending, but then again, that was what he got for taking repeated double shifts for the past few days. He had no one to blame but himself, but it made the nights alone a little easier to bear.
Theo had never entirely stopped his habit of delving so deep into his work that he disappeared, but at least he gave Grant a head’s up when it happened. It had taken some weeks of work, but Theo had also learned to pull himself out of his zone long enough to text Grant during his artistic surges. It would be an odd arrangement to an outsider, but for Grant and Theo, it was just a fact of life.
Grant froze when he heard soft music coming from the living room. His weariness melted as he stepped out from the entryway and into the kitchen. A smile crossed his features as he spotted a familiar and all too welcome tattooed man sitting cross-legged in the living room chair.
“Well, howdy, stranger,” Grant said.
Theo looked up from the book in his lap, bright eyes twinkling. “You’re looking mighty fine, Doc.”
Grant laughed, laying his coat over the back of a dining room chair before joining Theo. His boyfriend watched him intently, his body relaxed, but his eyes locked on every movement Grant made. Grant knew that look all too well, and he made a mental note of where he’d left the lube the last time.
Kissing him gently, Grant traced one of the tattoos around Theo’s collarbone. “I am, now you’re here.”
“Sap,” Theo purred at him.
“I have my moments,” Grant murmured.
“I like to think of it as a constant state of being.”
Grant chuckled. “I’m not that bad.”
“You made your mother cry when she was over for dinner last month.”
“I held your hand and kissed your cheek.”
“Still made her cry.”
He grunted. “That’s just my mother. She used to cry at those old animal commercials.”
Theo wrinkled his nose. “I don’t blame her. Sarah McLachlan should be held accountable for her crimes.”
Grant shook his head, pressing his face into Theo’s shoulder and inhaling the familiar smell of his boyfriend. Theo still smelled of paint, with just a trace of soap. He was at ease, loose, and playful, as always, when he returned to the house. Theo had moved into Grant’s house officially six months before but kept his place to use as a studio. Theo needed a separate space to work, to be by himself, and to let his passions and drive flow through him without interruption. When a new idea caught his attention, the man would be ensnared by it, and it wouldn’t be long until he retreated to the old building.
Grant didn’t mind, even if he did miss Theo when he was gone. He’d known full well that Theo was an independent, hardworking, and slightly erratic man. But he so loved seeing Theo when the ideas formed in his head, lighting his eyes and getting him to mumble under his breath. They were the signs of Theo’s upcoming disappearance, but when he returned, he was calm, happy, and desperate for time with Grant.
“Get your idea out?” Grant asked, sitting on the couch and pulling Theo into his lap.
Theo laughed, giving a token squirm before letting himself be cradled in Grant’s arms. Try as he might to make Grant out to be the sappy one, Theo turned to putty whenever Grant manhandled him. It was a slight weakness that Grant had never outwardly acknowledged but abused constantly.
“I did. Blair loved the picture of it I sent earlier. Says Emily practically peed herself when she saw it,” Theo told him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Grant leaned against Theo, closing his eyes contentedly. “I don’t think that’s what Blair said.”
“No, but I can read between the lines. The woman is like...a puppy.”
“Just keep her away from the new rugs,” Grant told him.
“Uh-uh, not my problem. She piddles on the rug, it’s up to Blair to clean it up.”
Grant didn’t bother to hold his wry chuckle as he worked his fingers under the hem of Theo’s shirt. His skin was warm, and Grant traced the shape of Theo’s hips with his fingertips. As much as he was okay with Theo’s occasional sojourns to his studio, Grant was greedy when Theo returned. He knew Theo wouldn’t run away again, but Grant always had to be touching Theo those first twenty-four hours.
Theo never argued.
“We can go see it tomorrow if you want,” Theo offered.
“God, yes,” Grant told him. He would always want to see Theo’s work.
Theo’s work had changed in the past year. It could have stayed the same, and Grant would have still loved it. It was fascinating to see what Theo’s mind could create when given a canvas and paint. But it had changed, and Theo was fascinated. It was still hard and unwavering, often using dark tones, but the hint of hope, of light, was so much greater than it had been before. The sun broke out from twisting violet clouds or a garden of aching beauty sprouting up in a rundown and decrepit cityscape.
It spoke of a promise, of something greater and better than the cruelty of the world, Theo had told him. They’d lain together after one of Theo’s returns, the young man curled up in Grant’s arms as they lay in bed. Drowsy and content, Theo told Grant he’d finally understood what he’d always wanted to show in his work before, and it was finally coming out. He could finally show the world what he’d always felt was possible and now knew was.
“But tonight,” Theo whispered, tracing his finger over Grant’s jaw.
Grant hummed contentedly. “Tonight?”
“Tonight, we’ll get some takeout that I already ordered. Then I’m going to seduce you. And then we’re going to curl up in bed for the rest of the night because fuck knows I missed the hell out of you,” Theo said, eyes bright and eager.
“The hell out of me, you say,” Grant chuckled.
Theo gave a heavy sigh. “I know, it’s almost like I love you or something.”
“Or something.”
Theo kissed him then, and the last thread of stress unraveled in Grant’s chest. Their beginning might have been rough, and the road hadn’t been easy. Grant had to learn to give Theo space even when he hadn’t always wanted to. And Theo had been forced to learn to give a little, to compromise and let Grant in, even if it was measured in inches. There had been arguments, and there would be more, but they got through them.
They had kept their promises to one another. Grant had never faltered or failed to be there for Theo, and Theo learned to talk and share himself. Yet for all the arguments, the stress, and the fight to find a middle road that made them both happy, Grant would do it all again. It was their road, their life together.
“I love you too,” Grant told him softly.
He was home.