22
Tucker turnedup the music, laughing when he heard Calvin moan from up in the loft.
He was covered in paint, about a half dozen canvases painted in a fascinating palette of blues and purples and creams.
The men were soaring—the birdmen from the city had transformed, lifting from the streets and pushing up into the air, lit by the lights.
He was having a ball.
“Is there an elevator?” Calvin called to him, peering over the top of the ladder and grinning.
“There isn’t. That would be cool, though. An elevator.” He smiled right back, just beaming.
“Damn.” Calvin threw a leg over the top of the ladder with a groan and climbed down slowly, rung by rung, naked butt dancing to the music all the way.
Pretty ass. Tucker admired the climb, the way the taut little muscles moved. That was worth the cost of color TV.
Calvin danced over and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, tiger. I am so wonderfully sore. Ooh. Look at what you’re doing! I love it.” Calvin was perfectly disheveled, hair standing up on one side, a long line across one cheek from the pillow.
“Yeah? Me too. It has good breath, don’t you think?” Oh, that pleased him, balls to bones.
“I don’t know what that means, exactly. But it’s so new for you, those colors and all that light. It’s lovely. Wait, how many have you done? How long was I asleep?” Calvin wandered over to check out the other canvases he’d done while his lover was sleeping so soundly.
“A few hours? Six?” It was dark now, cool, and he was hungry. “You want some food?”
“Sure….” Calvin seemed to have only half heard him, caught up in examining all the paintings. “These are going inside. On your walls.”
“Are they? Okay. I told you, you can hang whatever you want, except for the ones from—”His little psycho break.“—my temper tantrum.”
“Maybe you should hang those in the maze so I know when I’m going the wrong way.” Calvin laughed, turning to face him again, and gave him a smile brighter than the moon. “Maybe we could do a huge bonfire.”
“Maybe. I could handle that. I don’t want them in the house.” He went to the sink and began to wash, scrubbing the paint from his hands.
“Me neither. Wait. When did you do this one?” Calvin appeared in his peripheral vision, twisting to get a look at the mark on the back of one thigh.
He reached out, traced the little bruise. Yummy. “After orgasm three, I think. They sorta blended.”
“Pfft. I didn’t… did I?” Calvin looked at him. “I did? Whoa. All I know is that you were amazing. It’s never been like that, ever.” Calvin moved closer. Close enough that he could feel the body heat.
“It was magic.” He grabbed a towel and dried his hands, then pointed them toward the door. “Let’s scare up something to eat. I’m hungry.”
“You got it. Gotta feed a hungry tiger. I got these.” Calvin scooped up the clothing they’d worn into the barn and then took his hand.
The house was dark, but the pool area was lit up, the rainbow lights warming the whole sight.
It lit the way in, and he opened the big french door, letting the air in as he turned on the lights and the fans.
“The sun was kind of brutal this morning, but it sure is nice here at night.” Calvin followed him inside.
“It will be until July or so. August and September are hell.” He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one over. “Eggs?”
“Yuck. Well, I guess I don’t know where I’ll be come August anyway. Egg whites? I can separate them.”
“Sure. Do you cook them just the same?” He wondered if he could just eat the extra yolks. He sort of liked the yolks.
“Yep. Just the same. Scrambled works, or an omelet if you have any veggies. And you need to keep smiling just like that. Because you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen when you smile. Just sayin’.”
He watched as Calvin floated over and opened the fridge.