Before he had met Reed, he had spent the majority of his days and nights alone. He could handle the long business trips, the stale meetings, the expensive hotel rooms, and he’d get on just fine. And now he had someone, a someone that he couldn’t stand to part from. He knew Reed would be fine, that he’d fill his hours with creativity, busying himself with blank canvases and pools of paint. Connor would come home to his beautiful boy, and things would be right again in the world. Alas, when two weeks had passed, Connor decided that he had simply had enough, and he was coming home. He closed the deal early, uncaring for the small talk that he was due to engage in, and he’d called in a fake personal emergency. It was an emergency of sorts, if you considered a severe lack of kisses an emergency. He had a man waiting back at home for him, one that he wasn’t going to spend another day without.
He’d brought his things with him to his final meeting, not wanting to waste any time in between heading back to his jet. In that duration, he’d neglected to touch his phone, it wasn’t purposeful, it was simply that Connor was in such a rush to get back, that his phone had gone forgotten in his jacket pocket.
Having slept and showered on the flight, squeezing in what little time he had to make sure that no amount of time with Reed was wasted on frivolous things such as sleep. Why would he want to close his eyes when the love of his life would be right there in front of him? Absurd.
Connor was in a hurry to get back, and his things were left in the hallway as he jogged up the stairs to find his boyfriend, following the sounds of his music. He knew he’d be in here, he couldn’t imagine him hiding anywhere else. It was Reed’s sanctuary when Connor was not home. With one simple touch of his hand to the panel on the wall, he turns the music all the way down and stands by, watching as his lover turns to face him.
“Miss me?”
Unlike the rest of the house which was always clean and tidy, Reed’s studio was was mess. It was organized chaos with empty canvases, paints, tables full of sketchbooks and walls full of works in progress scattered throughout. The walls and floors were covered in drips of dried paint so much so that the floor had really become a canvas of its own.
Though he rarely needed one when Connor was around, the room had become a sanctuary. It smelled like pastels, and chalk; the light from the windows filled the space with warm light and seemed to ignite the colors throughout the room.
Wiping his hands on his overalls, Reed leaned back to observe the canvas so far. Even though it had been at most, ten minutes, it was hard not to check the clock again. He let out a soft sigh and tilted his head. The cool blues and grays on the canvas were certainly reminiscent of his loneliness. Even in the abstraction of the art he could feel the emotions dripping from the canvas almost as if they’d been saturated within the paint.
When the music in his headphones dropped to near silence, Reed turned expecting the butler or one of the maids. But, who he saw surprised him.
Two days, sixteen hours and twenty-seven minutes early.
Almost instantly, Reed jumped up from his seat near the canvas and dropped the paintbrush he was holding. “Connor!” The name parted with his lips so easily, more familiar than prayer and just as holy. He rushed over to his love, jumping into his arms and wrapping his entire body around the other with a soft, excited squeak. And when Connor finally had a hold of him, he took hold of his face gently and kissed him fervently.
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