“The sculpture, the painting, the sadness…” Arik’s words trailed off as he realized he’d spoken out loud.
What he’d said must have confused Kellus, because the artist stared back at him with a puzzled look on his handsome face.
“Thank you for telling me.” Arik leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kellus’s.
Kellus drew back, using his hand to push Arik away, creating distance for the second time in a matter of minutes.
“It’s not a joke, Arik. This is serious.” Kellus started to step to the side, away from him. Arik stopped him, placing both palms against the wall on either side of Kellus’s head, caging him in.
“I would never treat it as such, and I’m truly sorry for your pain.” He pulled his hand from the wall and skimmed his fingers along Kellus’s cheek. “I’m very into you. And I’m glad you’re being honest with me. I needed to know and now it all makes sense. I wondered why you kept pushing me away, and when I say that, I don’t mean anything by it. I understand and I’m concerned about you. Are you getting care?”
“Yes, I have a doctor.” The sadness was thick in Kellus’s voice as he dropped his gaze to their feet. Man, he hated the pain Kellus must hold inside. “My viral load’s undetectable and has been since I started seeing the doctor. I’m very regimented with my medication and care.”
Arik placed his fingertips under Kellus’s chin and tilted his head back, watching his expression. Kellus’s eyes held such insecurity. Unease danced in their depths, and he wanted nothing more than to draw the man into his arms and comfort him. “Good. I’d hate to have found you only to lose you. When were you diagnosed?”
“It’s been a little less than a year.”
“You did that sculpture around the time you found out, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and it shocked me when you recognized it in the piece. It’s like you had an inside line to my feelings. That scared me. Now that everything’s out in the open, I hope it doesn’t change your future commissions with me. I don’t want to lose your business over any of this,” Kellus said, sounding almost resigned.
“Kellus, I’m on PrEP. I have been for a while now.” Arik was surprised when Kellus just blinked at him. “You know what that is, right? Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis.” He needed to explain because he wanted to be upfront and honest with Kellus from the start. “Look, I’ve never claimed to be a saint, nor have I ever been in a monogamous relationship, so I felt taking PrEP was the right choice for me. People form opinions when they hear I’m on it, but screw ’em, it’s ultimately my decision to make.” He paused, letting those words sink in. “I want to explore this thing between us. I don’t know what it is I’m feeling, but I don’t want to ignore it either. Please, come home with me. Let’s not have this conversation out here.”
Kellus stared at him, his breath hitched as he plastered himself against the wall, keeping space between them as Arik moved in closer. “I don’t know…”
“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Arik closed the distance, leaning in, lightly resting his hand against Kellus’s shoulder as their lips came together. “Come home with me. We need to talk.”
Moments passed. A heavy silence hung in the air as he watched Kellus struggle with his decision. Surely Kellus had to know what the combination of an undetectable viral load and his use of PrEP would mean. To get to this point, they’d both have to be incredibly responsible with their health.
“Okay… My van’s around the corner. I’ll follow you.”
“No. Ride with me.” His statement must have caught Kellus off guard. His head jerked up, and suddenly, Arik found himself staring directly into questioning blue eyes.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave my van here.” Kellus’s tone led him to believe he may be having second thoughts.
“I’ll send someone after it. Ride with me. You’re always disappearing on me. I need to make sure you get there myself,” he replied quickly. He wasn’t about to let Kellus out of his sight, not this time.
“What do you mean disappearing?” Kellus asked.
“Back at the resort, when I finally got a chance to come talk to you, I’d turn around, and you’d be gone.” Arik let the hand he placed on Kellus’s shoulder ghost down the artist’s firm chest. His fingertips skimmed lightly along the stitching of Kellus’s shirt, then slid across his heart, pausing to give a slight pinch to the nipple, which hardened at his touch. That drew a sharp intake of breath from Kellus. God, Arik was hard as fuck, stuck on the side of a public building, wishing he could press his dick against Kellus’s hand and find some relief. “Please, say yes.”