Friday Festivities

Today’s installment is about Aaron and Jason from “The Prince and the Painter,” which is a dark contemporary romance full of serial killers, rapists, true love, and revenge.

The Prince and the Painter

Amazon | Changeling Press

Encounter: Drawing Together

Drawing Together

A Prince and the Painter short story by Emily Carrington

                When Aaron walked out of their joint office, his face was troubled and though he didn’t look on the verge of tears, he looked crestfallen.

                Jason, who’d been grading papers at the kitchen table because he’d wanted to spread out more than his small desk allowed, studied the tight line of his husband’s shoulders and the way Aaron wouldn’t quite look at him. He got up, left the kitchen, and took Aaron’s hands. Instead of speaking right away, he guided Aaron to the couch and sat, encouraging his lover to sit beside him if he wanted to.

                Aaron, narrow of hip and  relatively short of stature, sat on is lap instead. Whatever was wrong, it wasn’t between them, and it wasn’t anything that made Aaron feel distant or unsettled. He apparently needed the closeness.

                Jason wrapped his arms around Aaron’s waist and gazed into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

                “I heard back from Colton University.”

                Jason’s stomach tightened and not with hope. “They chose someone else to take the graphic arts teacher position?”

                Aaron nodded. Then he pulled out of Jason’s arms, got up, and started to pace. “If I wasn’t such a coward, this wouldn’t be a huge blow.”

                Knowing partially where this over arching and inaccurate statement came from, Jason said, “You’re allowed to be skittish in large crowds. That’s not a reflection of your courage but a hold over from your past.”

                He saw the moment his gentle words had the effect he was going for because Aaron’s shoulders slumped and he quit moving in tight circles. Facing Jason, he said, “I know. I don’t mean to be so hard on myself. It’s just… If I could travel to art shows all over Pennsylvania, New York, and a few other states, I’d be bringing in more money.”

                Jason wanted to point out he hadn’t married Aaron in the hopes of getting rich but he thought that would come out snarkier than he intended. So, he held out his hand in invitation.

                Aaron returned to his lap, snuggling in close. “I wish I had more than a Bachelor’s in Art,” he said on a sigh. “I don’t want to be in the amount of debt it would cause to get a teaching degree but…”

                “You love teaching small groups,” Jason reminded him softly. “Teaching one on one or in groups up to ten is where your heart lies. Handling all the classroom management issues of a group of thirty to forty children isn’t something you want to do.”

                Aaron nodded and sighed again. “I just wish I could figure out how to help us make ends meet without the strain.”

                Jason kissed his curly hair. “Breathe, beautiful,” he murmured. “Something will come up. It always does.”

                “I just wish you didn’t have to work summer and winter break every year. Maybe I should  try to work at a gas station or grocery store.”

                “No,” Jason said firmly.

                “There’s no disgrace in—”

                “You’re right. There’s not. Under the current political climate, with transgender folks getting attacked right and left, I’m not willing to let you work in a place where you might be forced to defend yourself.” He let out a breath, realizing that had very nearly been a speech. Aaron wasn’t helpless and it wasn’t for Jason to tell him what he could and couldn’t do.

                Aaron nodded, his smooth cheek against Jason’s ear. “I’m afraid too. That’s why I thought, if I sought out academia…”

                “What about the community center here in marisburg? There are paid positions for music teachers. Maybe they could use an art teacher too.”

                He felt Aaron relax against him. “I love you. You’re a genius.”

                Jason chuckled. “A genius with a sexy man on his lap.”

                Aaron sat back, gazing at him. “You have papers to grade,” he said.

                Jason grunted. “Yeah, but…” He put on a puppy dog look. “I don’t wanna.”

                Aaron laughed outright. “I know you don’t but it’s got to be done. You teach tomorrow. How about I make dinner?”

                It was Jason’s turn to cook but he’d been struggling with student math assignments for almost two hours. It was nearly six in the evening. “I won’t say no.”

                Aaron kissed him gently, a kiss that wanted to be hotter except that Aaron was good at turning down the heat when there were chores to be done. “Come on.” He got up and held out his hand. “Maybe I can even make you something tasty for dessert.”

                Jason rose and hugged Aaron against him, feeling his lover’s half erect cock through the jeans Aaron wore. “Something warm, please,” he said as a January wind shook the house.

                “I promise,” Aaron breathed, “you’ll be plenty warm.”

* * *

                About a month after Jason’s suggestion of the community center, Aaron was wrapping up his second weekly class. He exchanged favors with another artist on staff, who was talented in ceramics. Aaron took classes from hEr for free and she supplemented his roster by taking his drawing class for free. He had eight other students, making him feel comfortably busy for that two hours each Saturday.

                Today’s lesson had been about the differences between drawing what was in front of you as a series of lines and angles or drawing by naming the parts you were attempting to recreate. He’d taken the lesson directly from  the book he’d used to teach Jason basic drawing all those years ago when they’d first met. It brought back so many memories, both light and dark, that he thought he’d make up his own lesson for next week.

                There hadn’t been much light in his life when he met Jason. Their relationship had changed all that but not without a lot of pain. As the class wound down, Aaron found himself thinking of the two men who’d stalked him during that time. He wished fervently that they were both in the Christians’ hell. It seemed like a worse place to him than the Jewish beliefs about the afterlife that he still mostly believed.

                He’d left the door partially open mostly because he liked to feel less caged in. Now, as the students, all adults, were packing up, he wandered over to the exit, thinking only of wishing everyone a good day and going home. Both of the stalkers were dead but their ghosts still sometimes haunted him.

                As did the memory of the creeper who’d lured him to Marisburg before accosting him.

                He glanced out into the hallway…and his nervous energy dissipated. Seeing kids did that to him. His heart ached for children of his own but there was no way he and Jason could foster when Aaron was still conquering his own demons. That also didn’t take into account their precarious financial situation.

                The kid, who was maybe ten or so, was drawing, or maybe writing, on a piece of paper. His attention seemed laser-focused.

                Not wanting to disturb him, Aaron moved back into the classroom, almost bumping into Irene, the ceramics artist.

                She raised a delicately curved eyebrow at him and asked, “Someone out there?”

                Aaron nodded. “ He seems to be working hard on something. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

                She peeked out the door. The rest of the students were crowding around them. “That’s Evan,” she murmured. “He sits outside some of my classes too. Good kid. Quiet.”

                Aaron moved out of the doorway, allowing everyone else to pass into the corridor.

                Irene hung back with him. “Don’t approach,” she advised. “He’ll run.”

                Aaron nodded. He knew all about fragile people, so much so that he’d briefly considered becoming a school guidance counselor. No child, tween, or teen should be alone in this world. He went across the room away from the door and began gathering up his own materials.

                Irene exited and Aaron didn’t hear her say anything to Evan.

                He waited in the room for about three minutes, to give her a chance to vacate the area. Having two adults right there might make the boy even more jumpy.

                When he went out of the classroom, the kid was gone. He’d taken his pencil and left the paper.

                Aaron walked over, hands behind his back. He discovered a sketch of a chair, the only other chair in the hallway, in fact. To this expertly-crafted representation, the artist had added a vase of flowers. Not roses but some Queen Anne’s Lace, dandelions, and daisies. The flowers were a little out of perspective, a little too large for the chair to be real but their details were exquisite.

                Aaron wasn’t sure what to do with the picture. Maybe Evan would be back for it, in which case, Aaron should move along. On the other hand, maybe Evan had left it on purpose. Maybe he was one of those people who drew for the simple joy of creating and didn’t care what happened to his drawings afterward.

                I’m assuming an awful lot about someone I haven’t even passed a single word with. Aaron was half irritated with himself and half amused.

                He left the picture. Jason would be waiting for him soon. The walk from the community center to their house would be beautiful in the spring but it was the second week of February in a little Pennsylvania town. Catching a ride was preferrable.

                He decided to keep his mouth shut about both the memories he’d carelessly stirred up and the silent visitor.

* * *

                Jason arrived home on Monday afternoon ready to throw his briefcase across the room, fall on the couch, and kick off his shoes.

                He reined in his frustration as he entered the house. He froze for an instant as cold air rushed out at him along with a good deal of smoke. Heart thudding, he shouted, “Aaron?”

                “Opening windows,” his husband called, sounding flustered but unhurt. He coughed and then laughed. “Apparently vegetables and meat cook at different rates as well as different temperatures.”

                Jason cautiously entered the house, shutting the door behind him. “Are you all right?” he asked, still not able to see his lover.

                Aaron poked his head out of the kitchen. His eyes were smoke-reddened. “Frustrated with myself but otherwise mostly okay.”

                That little word in the middle of his speech, that “mostly,” made Jason pause. Aaron wasn’t much for qualifiers. Still, maybe it was only the smoke he referred to. “Do you need me to open any other windows?”

                “Nope. It’s already a lot easier to breathe.” Aaron strode across the intervening distance and put his hands on Jason’s shoulders. He stood on tiptoe and kissed Jason thoroughly. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

                Jason kissed him back, embracing this man whose usual demeanor was cheerful despite all that had happened in his life. He drew him even closer. He could feel Aaron’s excess energy in the way his husband clung to him and the slight shaking of his muscles. “Are you really all right? Between the two of us, I’m usually the one to create smoke.”

                Aaron laughed and relaxed against him fully. “That was only twice, and the first time wasn’t your fault really. An apple pie exploding is unusual.”

                Jason rubbed Aaron’s back and brought him back to the topic at hand. “What’s stressing you?”

                Aaron stepped back but took Jason’s hand. “Come sit down.”

                Jason did.

                “I misjudged my lesson on Saturday. I thought I could teach from that book I used to show you basic drawing techniques.”

                Jason thought of the Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain  how-to book. It had saved his grade in the art class he’d taken. There had been a lot going on at that time though, for him and for Aaron. “Did it make you think of Vance?” he asked carefully.

                “And Isaiah. Bastards,” Aaron added with feeling. “It made me feel vulnerable. I’m going to use a different book as a guide next weekend. That was part of why the smoke got so out of hand. I’d brought out all my texts from college and I was choosing a lesson.”

                That made sense. “Multitasking isn’t always a good thing,” he agreed. “Are you all right?”

                “Getting there,” Aaron admitted and he leaned against Jason, slipping an arm around his back and hugging him. “I meant what I said. It’s really good to have you home.”

                Jason bent his head and kissed Aaron’s dark curls. He wasn’t sure what to say. If Aaron needed to talk more, he was willing but sometimes just the confession of the central struggle was enough and Jason didn’t want to force him to relive anything he didn’t want to. Not unless it became absolutely necessary.

                Aaron placed his free hand on Jason’s thigh, high up without quite touching the juncture between his legs. His question wasn’t about lovemaking though. “Do you mind if we order pizza tonight?”

                “Before or after I pleasure you?” Jason asked.

                Aaron chuckled. “After.”

                “I don’t mind.”

                Aaron trailed his fingers over jason’s zipper, flicking the button on his dress pants open with practiced ease. “Right here?” he asked. “I’ve been craving you all day.” He snorted. “Actually, since Saturday, but my old issues were too much with me to allow for norniness.”

                “I don’t think that’s a word,” Jason pointed out just to see what Aaron would do.

                His husband didn’t disappoint. He closed his hand over the hardness tenting Jason’s boxers and said, “If I wanted an English major for a lover, I would have married one.” He put a little more pressure on Jason’s erection and added, “I’m quite happy with the math professor I fell for. Now…” He slid off the couch and, kneeling on the deep-piled rug they’d placed in front of the sofa a few years ago, he nudged Jason’s thighs apart. “I’m hoping to ride you,” Aaron confessed as he trailed his fingers up the insides of Jason’s trouser-clad legs. He paused when his fingers met each other at Jason’s crotch and added, “If you’d let me prepare myself.”

                Jason’s groin tightened. Aaron tended to let him do the preparing, but Aaron’s ways of getting himself ready were…sensual. Jason nodded.

                “Good.” Aaron leaned forward and blew warm air over the head of Jason’s still-covered cock. Then he slipped both hands down his own jeans and gripped his ass. He rocked back, favoring Jason with a grin that wasn’t the half embarrassed quirk of his lips it had been the first time he tried this. He’d discovered Jason liked it when he pleasured himself.

                Jason watched hungrily as Aaron pulled his hands from the back of his jeans and cupped his crotch in one delicate palm. Aaron’s hands were small. They were androgynous hands that fit the rest of him. Aaron looked equally good dressed as a man, a woman, or a nonbinary person. As he ran the fingers of his other hand over the bulge above his palm, Jason groaned. Aaron’s eyes were slitted half closed and Jason could read the need in every line of his lover’s body.

                Aaron whispered, “Are you ready for me?”

                “yes,” Jason rasped, breathless with the beauty before him. It had been a dozen years since he and Aaron had met. Their foreplay still aroused him.

                Aaron stood and tugged down the zipper of his jeans before popping the button open and shimmying a little so the top of his boxers showed. Then he quit teasing. With a flurry of movement, he pulled down all coverings and stepped out of them. Bare-assed, he straddled Jason’s thighs, positioning himself perfectly with his knees on the couch.

                Jason steadied him when he wobbled, placing a hand on either hip and holding firmly until Aaron found his balance.

                Aaron whispered, “I’m glad you’re ready.” He freed Jason’s cock with practiced grace.  Then he eased his hole over just the head of jason’s member.

                Jason moaned.

                Aaron grinned wickedly at him and didn’t move. “More?” he murmured.

                “Shit, yes, please… Aaron!” He half shouted his lover’s name when Aaron reached underneath himself to caress Jason’s balls.

                Again, he stopped the torment, gradually lowering himself until…

                “Aaron…” Jason gasped. “Feels so tight. Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

                “Absolutely sure.” Lifting up a little, Aaron pushed down firmly.

                Jason screamed his lover’s name. He’d been unprepared for the orgasm that washed over him. He gripped Aaron’s hips and jerked his own hips up, releasing fully inside his husband. “Will you come for me?” he begged.

                Aaron’s eyes were almost crossed in his own pleasure. He rocked on Jason’s softening cock. “Can’t… quite….”

                Jason wrapped his fist around Aaron’s lightly precum-beaded shaft and began to stroke. Once. Twice.

                On the third, Aaron arched his back and came all over Jason’s hand.

                Maybe a minute later, breathing hard, Aaron said, “This is why we cover the couch with a sheet.” He snickered. “Much easier to wash.”

                Then he sobered. “I need to write in my journal. I saw a kid burdened by the cares of the world and between that and the lesson I was trying to teach, I feel like the universe stomped all over me.”

                Jason kissed him softly. “Let me know if you need to talk about it more.”

He felt a tremendous rock roll off his heart when Aaron smirked and said, “Or maybe I’ll just make love to you all night long and my ghosts will be exhausted and unable to keep up.”