“I think you’re selling them short,” insisted Allen, as he stood in Luke’s apartment. “The paintings you’ve done of Hunter have always been some of your best work. I think we should just run with it. We can put those in the show, and you can fill in the gaps with some of this new stuff you’ve been doing.”

Allen paced around the apartment looking at various canvases.

“The thing is, Luke, you’ve kind of become the Thomas Kincaid of this city. People know what you’re good at, and they know what to expect of you. It’s all scenery, landscape, and skylines.  While it’s very good and there’s still a demand for it, you’re starting to become a little less interesting than you used to be to everyone.” Allen shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to look at Luke.

Luke sipped at his coffee as he sat on a stool by his easel adding a few finishing touches to the current painting he was working on. He had abandoned his earlier attempts to capture the city’s more intimate side. This canvas was a painting from memory of Hunter standing naked by the window and gazing out at the city in the early morning.

“Something like this is exactly what people are interested in right now,” continued Allen, circling around behind Luke and peering over his shoulder at the painting. “It’s intimate, but tasteful. It’s relaxing, but also a little enticing. The composition is well balanced, but also feels effortless.”

“I just don’t know how I feel about putting the old paintings in a show,” said Luke. “You were the one that said you wanted all new pieces.”

“Yes, all new pieces. New to the public. No one has ever seen any of your figure work before. I guarantee they’ll be falling over one another to get their hands on them,” said Allen.

Luke sighed and set aside his brush as he looked at the box of old paintings sitting on the far side of the room.

“They’re too intimate,” said Luke at last. “They’ve got too much of the old Hunter wrapped up in them. Even this one,” he gestured to the canvas in front of him. “It’s too personal.”

“Have you shown them to him?” asked Allen.

Luke eyed him for a moment before returning to his work without a word.

“Right, stupid question,” said Allen. “Of course you haven’t. Because you’re still struggling with this idiotic idea that you need to atone for your sins or something. News flash, Luke, you didn’t do anything wrong. The rest of us have to tiptoe around him so as not to expose your little charade. How long do you intend to continue this?”

“Until I get him back,” said Luke simply, staring at the canvas in front of him. “I know it’s not fair to you or anyone else. I know I may be a fool for doing it this way, but I can’t help but think this is the only way that I’m going to avoid losing him for a second time.”

Allen sighed and shook his head. “Let me know whether or not you want to go ahead with those paintings. If you do, then that’s probably ninety percent of the wall space right there. We can bump up the date of the gallery opening and get things moving forward.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Luke without looking up from his work.

Allen let himself out of the apartment and left Luke alone with his thoughts.

He knew Allen meant well but, just like Melinda, he wasn’t content to let others head down the wrong path without giving them ample warnings. What they both failed to consider, however, is that everyone’s path was different. Their warnings had to be taken with a grain of salt, otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy.

Luke absently pulled out his cellphone and glanced at the time. It was already well past noon, and he hadn’t heard anything from Hunter. Was it too much for him to simply check in on him? They were friends right? And he’d helped take care of him yesterday. It was probably fine.

“Feeling better?” he typed in the message, but his finger hovered over the send button. Was that too familiar? Should he be a little less casual? He quickly deleted the message and started over. “I just wanted to check in and make sure...” he paused mid-sentence and deleted the entire thing again.

He knew he was overthinking things. He retyped the original message and hit send before he could change his mind. Only a few minutes later, a reply came through.

“Much. Just polished off half the leftovers in the fridge.”

That was good. At least his appetite was back.

Feeling a little better, Luke turned back towards the canvas and sighed. If he was going to fill the gallery with something other than pictures of Hunter, he needed to stop wasting time on distractions like this. He couldn’t even picture Hunter’s reaction if he saw even half of the paintings of himself.

Luke’s cellphone chimed again. Another message from Hunter.

“Cooking lesson?”

***

.

“So, I’m just going to add this to the list of things I probably won’t cook on my own,” said Hunter, staring at the pile of misshapen pancakes sitting on the table between them.

To be fair, the majority of them weren’t inedible. They were just extremely ugly and varying degrees of burnt and/or under-cooked.

Luke was beginning to think it might have something to do with his teaching methods. He hadn’t thought it was possible to flip three pancakes in a row out of the pan and onto the floor, but somehow Hunter had managed it.

“What else is on that list?” asked Luke as he drowned a mostly burnt pancake in syrup.

“Cake...and spaghetti,” said Hunter with a laugh.

Luke sighed comically. “You know, I really am trying to impart my wisdom here. I really am.” He chuckled.

“I’m just really not that comfortable in the kitchen. I can use the refrigerator and the microwave, but everything else is a bit overwhelming. I honestly don’t know why.” Hunter shrugged. “I mean, it’s not as bad when you’re with me.”

Luke looked up and met Hunter’s gaze. “I think,” said Luke after a long moment had passed, “ you have a dirty mind. Look at this.” He held up a pancake that was rather phallic in nature.

Hunter laughed, “No, I think that must be one of yours.”

“I don’t think so,” said Luke, shaking his head. “Mine all look like pancakes.” He held up a round, normal looking pancake. “Yours,” he pulled a third pancake out of the stack, “look like penises.”

Hunter burst out laughing. “They really do, don’t they?” His face was turning red from embarrassment, but he seemed too amused to care.

“I can’t imagine what you were thinking over there drawing penises with pancake batter.” Luke shook his head slowly and laughed.

“Don’t judge me too harshly,” said Hunter in between laughs. “I wasn’t trying to.”

“I just like watching you blush really,” admitted Luke, sitting back in his chair. A soft smile touched his lips.

“You’re cruel,” chuckled Hunter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Luke grinned back at him.

Silence fell over the table. Hunter dug into his pancakes, and Luke prodded at his while trying to come up with something to say. Everything that came to mind was rejected almost immediately. Confessions of attraction and admissions of affection were all far too inappropriate for this situation.

But how long did he have to wait before he could broach that subject? How long did he have to restrain himself before he could admit the full breadth of his affection? A month? Two? He didn’t know and it was slowly driving him crazy. Subtle flirtation was only going to get him so far.

“Allen texted me earlier,” said Hunter suddenly intruding on Luke’s thoughts and dragging him back to reality. “He said he’s meeting one of his customers tomorrow and invited me along for the ride.”

“Are you going to do it?” asked Luke. At least Allen was managing to rebuild his friendship with Hunter without problem.

“Yeah,” said Hunter, sounding a little uncertain.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that my friend doesn’t want me to do this job.” Hunter shook his head. “He hasn’t given me any good reasons not to though.”

Luke clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the jealous bile that had started to rise in his stomach. He still had no idea who this ‘friend’ was and Hunter had given him no clues. He hadn’t even hinted at a name.

“I had to tell him that I was going to do it and there was nothing he could say to stop me,” said Hunter with a shrug. “Now he’s not answering my texts or my phone calls. He’s completely avoiding me.”

“Honestly,” said Luke, “I would ignore him. If he’s acting like that because he didn’t get his way, then he’s probably not worth your time anyway.”

“Luke...” Hunter seemed bothered by his negative tone. “He’s been really good to me. He’s looked out for me and tries to help take care of me when I need it. I know he’s a little overbearing, but he’s not all that bad.”

Realization slowly dawned on Luke. He’d heard this speech, or one like it, from Hunter before.

There were still a few more people it could possibly be, but Luke’s suspicions settled on a single individual, the only one he could think of that would jump at the chance to try and secure Hunter’s heart for himself once more. Vincent Crane.

Vincent’s manipulative tendencies had dug themselves into Hunter’s heart before Luke had ever met him. From the sound of things, the process had already begun again.

Luke had won Hunter away from Vincent once before, and he knew he could do it again. Unfortunately, that battle had taken place over several years. It had been a grueling struggle that had strained everyone and left scars. If he could avoid putting Hunter through that again then he would. That didn’t leave him with many tools to work with, however.

He knew from experience that attacking Vincent’s character or speaking out against his actions would only drive Hunter towards him. He’d likely already begun painting Luke as the villain in all of this. That meant he was already starting from behind. The only sliver of hope he had was Hunter seemed to be a bit more willful this time around.

“I’m sorry,” said Luke after a moment. “You’re right. I don’t know him.”

Hunter seemed to relax again. “I know he’s not perfect, but he’s admitted as much to me himself. I think he’ll start to relax if I give him a little time to realize that I’m not going anywhere and there’s no need to hold so tightly.”

“You might be right,” said Luke, clenching his fist beneath the table. “It sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”

“I don’t know,” said Hunter. “A lot of the time I just feel like I’m making everything up as I go along.”

Luke chuckled to himself. “Welcome to adulthood.”