Paint Me Like One Of Your French Men

Painting Two

The only problem the two faced now was sleeping locations. Adrian had been cleaned, fed, but now that it was already dark out, where was he going to sleep? Same bed? Should Vincent sleep on the couch? He was too tired to care about any of this anymore. Sleeping in the same bed would have to do. 

"The bed is kind of small now that I look at it," Vincent said. "I always sleep naked so it might be kind of awkward," he confessed. 

'It's fine,' Adrian wrote, 'I get cold easily so body heat would be nice.'

"Well, you've already seen me naked so it really doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Vincent laughed and proceeded to strip. Adrian crawled underneath the covers. There had to be a screw loose inside Vincent's brain. He didn't fear Adrian at all.  

The lights turned off and Adrian could feel the covers lift and a body lie down next to him. It was strange. He wasn't used to this warmth. Or nakedness. "I've never shared a bed with anyone before," Vincent spoke. His voice was gentle. Adrian hadn't heard it like this before. It really tugged at his heartstrings. "It feels nice," Vincent said and closed his eyes. Within minutes he was lightly snoring. 

Adrian turned on his side and stared at Vincent's face. Sure enough, the guy was a goner. Would he be mad if he touched him? Adrian wanted to trace the scars on Vincent's sides. Who would leave marks on such a pretty man? Adrian was strange to begin with so scars just made him slightly stranger. But Vincent was different. His scars were out of place. 

Adrian reached over and began to feel Vincent's side. In his attempts to find the scars he felt silly just petting the sides of his stomach. So smooth then suddenly so rough. It wasn't right. He tried the other side of Vincent too and it felt just as awkward. If only he could remove these marks. They didn't belong. Or maybe he should replace them with marks of his own. Adrian looked at his overgrown nails. Could they cut skin? They didn't seem strong enough to leave a scar. At most it would leave a scratch and then be gone. Adrian sighed. He was being silly. 

Vincent was too comfortable around him. Adrian would feel bad if he harmed a clueless man like this one. He was sleeping soundly with a stranger in his bed. He could choke him right now and the guy probably wouldn't wake up. Adrian's hands moved on their own towards Vincent's neck. They wrapped around his throat but refused to squeeze. 

"Hm, are you going to kill me after all?" Vincent's eyes were still closed but his voice startled Adrian. Had he been pretending to sleep this whole time? Was this some sort of test? 

"I don't want to die at the hands of poverty! Give me back my money you useless impulsive buyer! I shall slaughter this part of myself and redeem my lost fortune!" he mumbled. Adrian removed his hands and sighed. No. The guy was just an idiot sleep talking. There was no way he was really awake. 

Adrian let out a laugh. Vincent was such an idiot. He was a lovable idiot though. Adrian found himself falling asleep with a smile. 

When morning came the two woke up in each other's arms. Adrian was blinded not by the sun, but by the smile on Vincent's face. "You're awake? I guess I can get up now. You've been clinging to me so tightly that I felt bad moving."

Adrian removed his arms so suddenly that he lost his balance on the bed and fell off. Vincent jumped up and rushed to Adrian's side. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt falling like that?" Adrian turned to face Vincent but he was now eye-level with the naked man's crotch. What a time to be alive. He should've rolled underneath the bed and morphed into a bug. At least that way he wouldn't have to deal with this idiot that decided sleeping naked is the best way to go. 

"Ah!" Vincent's voice made Adrian flinch. The male jumped up and grabbed clothes. "I have to go to work! I'll be back! Don't have too much fun and don't forget to move around slowly and carefully. I don't want to come home to a dead body," Vincent raced out the door. Adrian could hear the sound of it locking. 

Adrian lay on the floor and carefully replayed the past day in his mind. He'd been taken off the street by a stranger, took a shower with said stranger, was fed by said stranger, and slept with said stranger. Adrian mentally abused himself for being such an easy target. Why was he simply going along with all of this? Was it because Vincent was convenient? He wasn't asking much of Adrian and that only made Adrian feel all the more guilty. 

Maybe he should leave. He didn't have any need to stay here. However, the thought of Vincent's defeated expression upon realizing that Adrian had left persuaded him to stay. Was he falling for this guy? Adrian sat up and stared at the wall. It was blank. There was nothing on it. Didn't this guy say he was a painter? Where were his paintings? 

Adrian wandered around the small apartment looking for paintings or anything that showed the slightest sign of an artist living there. That's when he found it. A closet filled with anything and everything art related. It also contained a single painting. Just the one. It was an angry looking guy that had black hair and thick eyebrows. He looked strong. The exact opposite of everything that Adrian currently was. This guy had short dark hair while Adrian had long light hair. He had thick eyebrows and Adrian barely had any eyebrows at all. He looked masculine. Adrian was super feminine and could be mistaken for a woman at first glance from afar. That wasn't always the case but that is what he became after living on the streets. 

"You found my drug stash," Vincent's voice made Adrian jump out of his skin. He turned his head to look behind him. When did Vincent get back? He hadn't even heard him come through the door. Did he really spend so much time carefully moving around the house looking for this? Had the day passed already? Adrian felt like an idiot. 

"Oh, I forgot that painting was in there," Vincent looked at the painting with a nostalgic gaze. He seemed to be remembering something but to Adrian it just seemed as if he was thinking about an old lover. Adrian didn't like that idea. 

"His name is Diedrich," Vincent said picking the painting up to stare at it closely. "We had a short and sweet affair until he decided that having a family was more important than a childhood romance. I wonder how he is doing now. Maybe I should give him a call." 

A feeling of unease churned in Adrian's stomach. He didn't want Vincent to abandon him for someone else. How was he supposed to explain this feeling? His heartbeat sped up and his breathing became difficult. The world felt like it was closing in on him. What was going on? He hadn't experienced this in so long that he'd forgotten what it was. He could barely hear the sound of Vincent's voice. He needed to breath but breathing was impossible. 

"Adrian? Hey! Adrian, look at me," Vincent cupped Adrian's face and knelt down beside him. "Breathe," he said. The world stopped caving in when Adrian's focus had been altered. He focused on breathing. In and out. Deep breaths. Things were going back to normal. 

Adrian wrapped his arms around Vincent and clung to him. Silent tears fell from his eyes. He prayed that he wouldn't be abandoned again. He didn't care anymore how weird of a stranger Vincent was. Anything was better than living alone in a place where no one cared about you. He didn't want to be forgotten again. Not again. 

Vincent began to pat Adrian's head. He didn't say silly things like 'it's okay' because he knew that it wasn't. He was just there for moral support. He let Adrian hug him until he'd calmed down. Adrian didn't want to separate from Vincent. He knew the moment that he did he wouldn't feel secure anymore. However, he couldn't just continue to cling to him like this. The guy must've had things he needed to do. 

But Vincent never once complained or showed any sign of wanting to force Adrian off of him. He was just there. Waiting patiently. Supporting silently.