Page 59 of Painted

Early turned to smile over their shoulder as Rhys entered the flat, tossed his jacket and keys aside, and continued on into the kitchen, a smile on his face. He walked right up to the counter, where Early was tossing a few herbs in with the haricots verts they’d just sautéed in butter, pressed himself against Early’s back, and grasped their hips possessively.

“It looks amazing, too,” he said, peeking over Early’s shoulder, then turning his head to the side so he could breathe in Early’s scent, then dip down to kiss their cheek.

Early couldn’t breathe at all. A feeling of happiness and excitement swirled through them, making every cell in their body quiver. This was what they’d dreamed of their whole life but never thought they’d even have a chance at. It was so domestic that it was almost laughable. Rhys was treating them like a partner, like he came home to see what they were cooking every day.

“How was your day,” they asked when Rhys stepped away to fetch himself a glass of water, unable to wipe the smile from their face. “Were you out somewhere?” They glanced back to where Rhys had tossed his jacket over the back of the sofa.

“I had to run an errand for Dad,” Rhys explained as he held a glass under the tap. “He wanted these specific stands for some of the artwork being auctioned on Friday night, and I was the only one available to pick them up.”

“I’m glad you were able to help.”

Early’s heart was so incredibly light as they watched Rhys drink his water, their eyes focused in on the bob of Rhys’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed. It was definitely the sort of conversation that two long-term partners would have as they settled in for a quiet, cozy evening together.

Better still, it might have been the first time Rhys talked about something having to do with the fundraiser as if it were banal and not the end of the world.

“How are you feeling about our surprise visitor this afternoon?” they asked, confident that they were close enough to Rhys now to bring up such a touchy subject.

They doubted whether they should have said anything for a few seconds as Rhys finished his water, set his glass aside, and frowned at the counter as he gathered his thoughts. Half a dozen expressions played across his face before he drew in a breath and looked at Early.

“I’m okay,” he said, sounding confused about his own emotions. “That whole thing this morning came out of nowhere. I definitely wasn’t ready for it.”

Early lowered their head slightly, concentrating on not burning the couscous as they took it off the hob and stirred in a collection of spices they’d prepared earlier. “I don’t think any of us were ready for it. Knowing someone objects to something in theory is way different than being hit by the force of their upset.”

Rhys was silent for too long. Early glanced up to see how he was doing.

“You’re right. It was weird being faced with someone who I agree with in principle, but who….” Rhys pressed his mouth shut and shook his head. “Is that what I sounded like when I was struggling with this whole thing in the beginning?”

Early swallowed, then nodded. They felt bad for telling Rhys the truth.

“I’m sorry,” Rhys went on with a sigh. “Seeing the way I felt reflected in someone else was….” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Grief is weird,” Early said in the same voice they’d used when they were trying to calm Nancy down in the office. “I don’t think there’s anything any of us can do about it.”

Rhys sent him a wry, affectionate smile, then stepped back over to scoop them into his arms. He kissed them softly, then said, “Thank you for being so understanding and forgiving.”

“You’re easy to forgive,” Early squeaked out, even though their throat was tight with joy and arousal.

Rhys laughed and let them go. “I’m really not. You’re just one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met.” He moved to sit at the table as Early plated everything they’d cooked. “Ms. Flint was unkind to you this morning and you still tried to make things better for her.”

“If I was mean or cold every time someone snubbed or insulted me, I’d be mean and cold all the time, and I don’t want that,” they said, bringing the plates to the table.

Rhys’s smile as Early sat across from him was so proud and pleased that Early felt themself blushing hard. “You’re too good for me,” he said.

Early lost their smile and almost dropped their fork just as they picked it up. “Don’t say that,” they said. “I…I want to be with you. I don’t want you to push me aside again because now you think I’m too good for you instead of?—”

They stopped themself when they realized what they were saying and blushed even harder.

“Hey,” Rhys said, catching their attention as they looked down to avoid his eyes. They looked up again as Rhys continued with, “It was never that you weren’t good enough for me. I’ve always known how special you are. That was part of the reason I never said or did anything, why I never let myself believe there could be anything between us. I didn’t want to ruin a really good thing by making mistakes. I didn’t want to hurt you by getting too close.”

“Are you sure those are good reasons?” they asked, somehow managing a light, teasing smile as they started to eat. “I’m not some precious doll up on a high shelf that you might fumble and break.”

Rhys laughed. “You’re certainly beautiful enough to be a doll.”

Early’s smile widened. They suddenly imagined themself playing with Rhys by having him dress them up like a doll and do their hair and make-up…and then undress them and smudge all the hard work he’d just put into making them look sweet.

“I see you like that,” Rhys said, heat filling his eyes the same way it must have just filled theirs.

“I like everything where you’re concerned,” they admitted. They sobered up a bit and chewed a bite of chicken before summoning up the courage to say, “I want to try a lot of things with you. I know you have more experience than me, but I want to learn and find out what I like. I can only do that by trying all sorts of things…with you.”

---