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“No! You can’t keep ignoring my boundaries, Ol. Putting art on the walls without discussing, giving away my t-shirt collection to charity, and now this. Fuck off!” The front door slammed close as David left; the bang echoing through the apartment. Olly tried to swallow the lump in his throat, hoping it would prevent him from crying. He looked from the fur bundle on his lap to the door, wishing it would open, David would come walking in and they would make amends, preferably followed by some make-up sex. But the dark shadow that had crept into his chest and was occupying it ever since he saw the disappointment in David’s eyes when he had brought home the kitten wasn't dissipating.
He had used his charm to try to warm David up to the pet. He had been praising him for the parental skills he used when he was mentoring junior colleagues, telling him they would be perfect for raising a kitten, and he had dangled the tiny, red cat in front of him, unabashed, hoping his man would cave in, forgive Olly for adopting a cat, and they would gain a new roommate.
David, however, had not been moved. Well, he had been, but not in the way Olly had anticipated. He had seen the anger boil behind his love’s eyes, David cracking his knuckles, and shooting daggers at his boyfriend. Then Olly, blatantly pleading, had tipped David over the edge. David’s demeanor shifted even more, and after he scolded Olly, Olly was now alone, slumped down on the sofa, the little kitten trembling on his lap.
He stroked the red fluffy ball absentmindedly, his thoughts with David and the way he had reacted. David could be short-tempered but not to this extent, he wondered what made him so crossed. He was also worried. He saw the time ticking away, but still no sign of David; not physically, not a text or a call. Olly shot him a quick text saying he loved him and asking him when he was planning to come home. It was left unread.
After making a cup of tea, he crumpled up an old shopping list – David still insisted on using those – and threw it around so the cat had something to play with. He stared at the little figurines that he had bought at an underground art exhibition and put on several cabinets and sidetables in the apartment. His eyes landed on the colourful Keith Haring poster he had hung recently instead of some non-descriptive poster of a sunset. He had bought it after David had said he liked Keith Haring and even had it framed. Olly had wanted it to be a nice surprise, but David’s reaction had been nothing more than a tepid acknowledgement and the question where the other poster had gone. Olly had been a tad disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm about the new art but had shrugged his shoulders and attributed it to David’s busy schedule.
As Olly looked around the room and watched the kitten play, he noticed everything was in the same colour scheme, toned down and quiet. He always assumed David had never really given his interior much thought and had just chosen some random, non-offensive art to put on the walls to make it less bare and sterile. He glanced at the tea mug, also in the same beige tint as the walls.
Oh shit. It was a deliberate choice, Olly felt his blood drain from his face. He was so used to hanging around arty types, he only used that as a reference when it came to decorating. He should have known better; he should have paid better attention. He picked up his phone and called David. After three rings the line went dead.
David had also mentioned the shirts. Olly remembered when they had officially moved in together. They had dumped all the bags with his clothes on the bedroom floor and instead of putting them away, they had opted to fool around. Olly smiled as he remembered the way he had blindfolded David with one of his love’s ties. It had been the first time playing like that, and David had been anxious at first, but Olly had talked him through it, and it had resulted in a mindblowing fuck.
Still totally blissed out, they had tried to get all Olly’s clothes into the closet later, but there wasn’t enough room. Olly had found a pile of t-shirts with text like “Sarcastic comment loading… please wait”. He had thrown the blonde a questioning look. David had laughed and explained that his buddies from uni and he loved those shirts, but that he didn’t need them in the wardrobe anymore. So the next day, Olly had taken them to charity. David had been far from enthusiastic to learn that, and through gritted teeth, he had told Olly he would have wanted to keep those shirts, only not in the closet. The younger man had cosied up to him, apologised, and told him he looked much better without a shirt anyway. With David reciprocating his hungry kisses, he had assumed that was the end of the matter. Apparently he had read the signs wrongly again.
And now the kitten. He looked at the tiny animal exploring the room. David had told him multiple times he wasn’t ready for a pet.
A deep sigh escaped him, and an anxious nervousness made Olly shiver. Whilst biting his lips, he sent a text.
Olly: I’m really sorry. Can we please talk?
He kept on checking his phone, hoping the tick marks turned green, but nothing happened.
David had told him he found his impulsiveness straining at times, but he also claimed he loved it, as it was a part of Olly, the man he had fallen for so deeply, and it helped him step out of his comfort zones and out of the fixed, more toxic mindsets he’d hid behind.
This was their dynamic, right? Olly pushed and David reluctantly resisted, until he eased into it, and then Olly got his way. David loved it in the bedroom, for sure, Olly teasing him, edging him, massaging him gently from a deep orange to an enthusiastic green.
Then it hit him. The art, the shirts, they hadn’t been orange acts, they had been solid reds, and this kitten was even a superlative of those reds. He had fucked up massively. The dark shadow of what he’d done flooded him and he couldn’t keep the tears in any longer.
Options tumbled over each other in his head, weighing them, figuring out if they were wise, putting them in a logical order of implementation.
The cat had to leave. As much as he already loved the fluff ball, it was clear David didn’t. He couldn’t take it back to the shelter, though. In his head he made a list with people who would take the kitten in. He didn’t even have a name for him, yet; he had planned to name him with David.
After several phone calls – and almost at the end of his list – he reluctantly pressed the call button again.
“Hi Tori. Yeah, I know I look like shit. No, I'm not drunk. 11.30pm… no, I didn’t realise. The thing is…”
Tori first scolded him, then Michael woke up too and joined the conversation, and after abundant relationship advice from him, the cat jumped on Olly’s lap and captured Michael’s heart. Tori looked less enthusiastic, but her eyes were soft and she nodded when Michael asked her if they could adopt the cutie.
“We’ll come and pick it up tomorrow, Olly. Please let us know when it is convenient. I hope David gets home soon. And now let us sleep.” With that his sister disconnected.
Olly’s heart felt heavy hearing his love’s name in combination with losing his new pet. He rubbed his eyes. Well, twat, time to act like an adult.
What was next? The poster. He would hang the sunset back. Maybe he could find another spot – preferably less conspicuous – for this one some other time. He rummaged through the storage room, where he had stowed the frame. It was hidden behind a couple of boxes. Within minutes the posters had been swapped. Olly checked the time; midnight and still no sign of David. He thumbed open his phone again. The messages had been read, but no reaction. The young man was afraid of what that could mean and worst case scenarios started to swirl his brain. He flopped on the sofa on his belly and hid his face into a pillow, trying to numb his spirals.
The turning of a key in the front door made him jump up. He restrained himself from running to David and throwing his arms around his beloved.
“Hi,” Olly muttered.
“Hi.” David took off his shoes and shoved them under the coat rack.
“I’m so sorry. The cat will be gone tomorrow.”
“We need to talk, Ol.”
Olly winced as David ignored his apologies. He knew he had no right to be offended now. They both sat down on the sofa, each at an outer end.
“Why do you keep deciding things that affect us both without discussing it first?” David’s whole demeanor radiated intense fatigue.
Despite reflecting almost all evening, Olly still had no solid answer.
“I didn’t think the things you mentioned were big deals. And you like me being impulsive. It drives you wild when I do it in the bedroom.”
David leaned on his knees, his hands rubbing his face.
“We have a system there, love. Red is a no. When we’re outside the bedroom, you don’t even give me a chance to tell you it’s red. You think you can turn everything green, That is not how it works. We still discuss dos and don’ts when it comes to sex, we talk about wants and needs. But somehow outside the bedroom, you think we don’t need that.”
Olly shifted uncomfortably back and forth on the sofa. The truth hurt. David was right. How had he never seen that? He took a breath to tell, but David continued. “I love you, and I love you being a little shit, but this is not being bratty, this is ignoring my boundaries. You fucking talk all day about what you are going to do and what you have experienced, can you please also talk about things that concern us, like getting a pet or changes in the house?”
Olly sucked in his lips and nodded. He had to do better. Slowly pieces started to fall into place and tears streamed down his cheeks as the bigger picture quietly unfolded.
He just wasn’t used to communicating like that. It had never been necessary. His mum and dad had been too occupied with his siblings and their mental challenges, so he basically could do as he pleased and got away with anything. In the dorm, where he used to live, everyone was pretty self-centred, and except for the occasional schedule coordination, they all just did their own thing. He realised he actually had no clue to properly live together with someone.
“I think I’ll need your help with that, babe.” From the corner of his eyes he assessed David.
A glint of annoyance flashed on David’s face but then softened. “Yeah.” He nodded to emphasise his words as he leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he frowned and focussed on the wall.
“Where did the poster go, hun? Why did you swap them? Just hang it back. I actually like it. I got used to it. It might be a bit of an acquired taste, but so are you and I love you.” Olly felt the cold and hard undertone that was so present the whole conversation, being replaced by a warm timbre.
His heart skipped a beat; after all the doubts and worries that were still nestled in his veins, this was a more than welcome confirmation of their love still existing. He laid his head in David’s lap, turned his head up and whispered, “I love you too. So, so much.”
David stroked the unruly curls of his love and carefully lifted Olly’s head and stood up. “It’s late. Come on. We can talk more tomorrow.” With that he took Olly’s hand and led him to the bedroom.
As soon as David turned on the light, they found the kitten curled up on David’s pillow. He didn’t say anything but picked up the cushion with the cat and carefully put it on the ground. Olly shoved his pillow to the other side without making eye contact. They undressed and the blonde slipped between the sheets. Olly quietly laid down next to him, not touching, afraid to overstep. But David pulled him close and spooned him, burying his face between Olly’s shoulder blades.
With his love’s warm breath stroking his shoulder in a rhythm that slowly synchronised with his own, he let the dreams take over.