Splintered Hearts

Sixteen

Noah

Deciding to do this in my room where there’s more light and space, Jamie moves on my bed, adjusting the pillows. Having him here in my bedroom delights me more than it should. I’m just so happy we’re okay now. Even if he doesn’t like me, that’s fine, I still want to be his friend. A tiny little olive branch.

Grabbing one of my pillows, he wedges it in the corner, allowing him to sit comfortably while he draws, sitting cross-legged. I nearly laugh at this big man taking up so much space while sitting like a preschooler.

“They’re a good brand. My mother doesn’t sacrifice quality for price.”

“They were for Isa’s program, but they needed edible markers.”

“Isa.” Jamie smiles. “What, she can’t give the kids full sleeves?”

“No,” I laugh. Reading the box, his eyes are still shadowed, but there’s something relaxed now that hadn’t been there when he first came in. Maybe it’s the weed; maybe it’s the tentative truce we’re in.

“Do you have any skin allergies?”

“No.” Reaching behind, he takes off his sweater. At first, I think he’s going shirtless, until I see a red sleeveless shirt. My eyes go to his arms, defined and decorated. The snake on his right catches my attention, going all the way up his arm. All his tattoos are black and gray, save for the little cherry blossoms around the snake.They’re beautiful.

Grabbing a white marker, he uncaps it with his teeth—it’s sexier than it has any right to be—and studies my skin as if seeing the picture in his mind. “Any requests?” I open my mouth to speak, but Jamie shakes his head. “No penis or sex toys of any kind.”

“What about—”

“No. None.”

“Can I draw a penis on you?”

“Noah, the day I let you draw a penis on me is the day I chop mine off completely.”

“Ow.” I think for a minute. “You could draw your penis? I can confirm, it’s a work of art.”

Jamie smiles without humor. “I could get up and leave.”

“Not in the mood today. I got it.” I think for a moment, but I can’t think of anything; my mind’s too busy focusing on him. We’d talked for weeks and it was so... nice. I just want a little bit of that back. I want the friend I’d made since that party back. “Anything you want. I don’t care.”

Something flickers to life behind his dark eyes. “Stay as still as you can, okay?” The marker tickles my skin at first and all I can do is lie back. I want to watch, but relax into my pillow instead, trying so fucking hard not to inhale that spicy, woodsy scent of his.I can feel my dick rallying in my sweats, and if Jamie notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “When did you start drawing?”

His hand stiffens briefly, before he relaxes and continues sketching on my ribs. “As long as I can remember, it was—” Biting his lip, Jamie shakes his head. “I’ve always drawn.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Can you stop so I can concentrate?”

“We are feeling spicy today, huh?”

Putting the pen down, he glares at me. “You wanted me to do this.”

“I thought it would be fun.” He grips the marker hard in his hand, and I ignore the attitude. I thought we were getting somewhere! “You know, believe it or not, you can talk to me a little bit when we’re not giving each other orgasms. It won’t ruin your reputation if you’re a little bit nice to me. I promise your secret will be safe with me. I won’t alert the townspeople that you, Jamie Amato”—I cover my mouth, gasping dramatically—“are not that bad. I promise.” Relaxing back onto my bed, I fold my arms over my chest, mimicking zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

He glares at me and looks down at whatever he drew on my skin before his shoulders sag. Moving higher, he grabs a different marker. “I’m going to draw Mark’s ass cheeks.”

My eyes widen, and Jamie’s lips quirk a tiny bit. “You’re evil,” I hiss. That makes a tiny laugh slip from his lips. “How do you even know what they look like?”

“I’ve seen him running down the hall a few times, from the shower back to Hunter’s room. Those two weren’t quiet or subtle at all.”

“Slightly concerned that you remember it vividly enough to draw it on my skin.”

“That’s not something you can just get over.”

“It’s haunting.”

“Try living with it for years.”

“Trying sleeping with it.”

“No thanks. I have enough problems.”

Awkward silence blooms between us, making my skin itch. “Um, don’t you think it’s funny we never met until recently?” And we’re back to ignoring me. Great. I press further because if there’s one thing Jamie needs to know about me it’s that I’m not a man who can easily be ignored. It’s best he just finds out now. “Don’t you find that weird? Our best friends have been dating... for years.”

Jamie concentrates, but his focus is a little too intentional. “It’s not weird. It’s not like we were friends, Mark and me.”

“Yeah, but—”

He puts down the marker as I glare at him. “I don’t like hanging out with people, okay? Just drop it.”

Maybe this is a bad idea. What do I even want out of it? It’s not like Jamie will just fall for me by drawing on my skin. That’s so dumb. I’m so dumb. “Me-fucking-ow.”

Jamie relaxes a bit with a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I just like being by myself. Hunter knows that. That’s all.”

“So the party—”

“Just another level of hell.” Resting the marker on my hip, he looks at me. “I wanted to show him I was okay with him leaving, though. So I tried, for him.”

“Until you couldn’t.” Ignoring that, he goes back to drawing. “At least you got a spectacular blow job out of it.” Grinning as the tips of his ears redden, I press on. “I think it was a great party.” He sets the marker down and I’m now hyperaware of his hands on me—one on my upper thigh, the other holding the marker now resting on my side.

“You’re distracting me.”

“Mmm, so my body is distracting?”

“You know you’re beautiful, okay? I’m not in the mood, though.” Jamie peeks at me before concentrating back on the drawing. “I didn’t have a good day today.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

Jamie shakes his head. “No. Thank you, though.”

“I’m just teasing you. I’m not trying to seduce you, I promise. Like, at all.” All I want to do is spend time with him. That’s it.

Done sketching, he grabs another marker, shifting a bit before frowning. “Can we move a little?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Jamie thinks for a moment, chewing his bottom lip.

“What is it?”

“Just trying to think of how I want you.”

“On all fours from behind is a fan favorite.”

Jamie surprises me with a tension-breaking laugh. “I have no doubt.” Getting off the bed, he looks down at me and whatever he was drawing. If I wanted to peek I could but I kind of want it to be a surprise.

Moving to the side of me, he looks down. “Can you turn more this way?” Motioning me to roll a bit, I do, moving more onto my side. Sitting down, he grimaces, turning to the side and putting himself in an awkward, twisted position. Jamie’s eyes flick up to mine, and I see clear pain.

“Back bothering you that badly?”

Brow furrowed, he goes back to my stomach with a black marker, drawing again. “I’m fine.”

“I can move more so you don’t—”

“I said it’s fine!”

Snatching the marker out of his hand without looking at the drawing, I get up. “Stop being a baby and ask for help. You’re exhausting!” Knowing where he needs to draw, an idea to comes to mind. “You need the front of my stomach right?” Looking away, he nods. “Sit back against the wall. Come on.” Shooing him into position, I wait for him to get comfortable and hand him the marker. “Stay there.”

I open my dresser, grabbing the heating pad I sometimes use when I work out, while Jamie rests against the wall, looking miserable. Looking behind the bed, I find an outlet and plug it in. Then, turning it on, I motion him back and reach under his shirt, startling as he grabs my wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just putting it on your back. Relax.” Glaring down at the fingers on my wrist, anger hits me. “Grab me like that again, and I’ll rip your dick clean off your body and have it stuffed.” It’s not that it hurts, it isn’t violent, but each time he does that it takes me back to my home, to my father, and I’m tired of it. “Use your words. Don’t be a dick.”

Peeling his fingers off me, Jamie seems to sink into himself before grabbing the heating pad. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m not going to strip you naked and sit on your dick. Just relax. Believe it or not, I can resist you, Jamie. Honestly, each time you open your mouth, it makes it easier to do so.” Pinching his lips, Jamie concedes as I wrap the heating pad around his body, and I smile as his eyes close with the heat. I can’t help but feel good. “Feel’s nice, doesn’t it, asshole?” Opening his eyes, they soften, and he looks away with a nod.

Climbing onto his lap, I sit up on my knees, right before him. “What are you doing?”

“You need my stomach, but you’re too stubborn to tell me how much pain you’re clearly in. Here’s my stomach.”

“I didn’t mean sit in my lap.”

“I’m sitting up on my knees, barely even touching you.” Jamie glares up at me. “The more you waste your time being sexually frustrated and bitchy, the longer this is going to take. Just get what you need to get done.” This was supposed to be fun.

Glaring for a stubborn second, Jamie grabs the marker again. I rest my hands on his shoulders so they have a place to go. Jamie doesn’t even comment on the touch, just concentrates on drawing. The marker tickles as it drags across my stomach.

While he focuses, I squeeze his shoulders a bit, kneading the muscle there, not commenting on the tiny noises that leave him when I squeeze a certain way. When Jamie snapped at me, I understood it for what it was. A defense. A mask. For some reason, he doesn’t like to ask for help. “You can ask me for help, you know. I won’t think less of you.”

The marker freezes on my skin. Looking up between my arms, Jamie frowns before capping the pen. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I—” Swallowing he shakes his head. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Jamie’s eyes go unfocused and he shakes his head. “The scars?”

“Yes.” Jamie uncaps a new marker, going back to the drawing.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Other than that they looking fucking gross?” Okay, well, I understand being self-conscious, but I have a feeling there’s more to it.

“Well, I’m sure they aren’t.”

“I know what they look like.”

“They look like scars on your body, I’m sure. What’s the big deal?”

Jamie stops, looking up at me. “You’re going to tell me you’d be just as attracted to me with them?”

“Why do you care if I find you attractive?” I smirk. A scowl grows on his face. He knows I got him.

“That’s not... that’s not what I mean. That’s not what—”

“Close your eyes. Just trust me.”

“Trust you?”

“Sweetie. I am a very patient man.”

“Doubtful.” Pressing his lips into a fine line, Jamie sighs, closing his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t flinch or hit me.”

“I’d never hit you.” He glares.

I didn’t think so either. “Trust me.” Sighing heavily, he nods. I take the hem of Jamie’s shirt and he stiffens. “Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” As I lift his shirt up Jamie goes rigid. “Arms.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me.” He swallows hard, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. He concedes, lifting his arms up and taking his shirt off. I drink him in. Jamie is both right and wrong. I'll admit that the deep purple scars are all over and a little shocking, but he’s wrong to think they take anything away from him. My eyes go to the biggest one, on his pec. Reaching out, I drag myfinger over the puckered skin. He shivers.

Jamie’s eyes flutter open. His big body is so warm under me. Leaning in I press a kiss to the biggest one, and when I pull back, Jamie’s eyes are shining on me. They’re so brown that they’re nearly black.

Gorgeous.

Everything about him is beautiful.

“Jamie, I don’t know how to tell you this.” Leaning in next to his ear, I grin playfully, nipping his lobe. “Your fucking attitude is what makes you less attractive. Not your scars.” Fuck I wish that were true, though, because yeah, his attitude is kind of hot also. Jamie barks more than he bites.

Blinking, Jamie grabs a marker. “Let me finish,” he chokes out, and busies himself going back to the drawing.

“How’s your back now?” I knead the muscles connecting his shoulders and neck lightly. Just a little squeeze, but Jamie’s eyes flutter closed when it feels good. My fingers itch to touch his hair, and Jamie doesn’t move or say a word as I idly play with it.

“When I was younger, no matter what situation I was in or where I was at, there was always something to draw with, or on. Paper, napkins... fuck, one time I used toilet paper. A pen, marker, busted-up crayon. Something. It was the one constant I had, and the one thing that kept my mind busy.” Frowning at his words, I don’t dare speak. “I don’t remember when I started, it was young. I always remember drawing.”

I smile. “Kind of the same for me with reading. My mother used to read to me. Then I had this nanny, she always read to me too. She was really nice. I was so pissed when my father fired her.”

“Why did he fire her?”

“Because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.” Anger hits me. I’m still so pissed. My father’s no stranger to taking advantage of younger women. “She got replaced by this ancient woman who hated kids. Luckily, by then I could read on my own. As long as I had a book I could shut everything else out.”

Jamie looks up, and those striking eyes hit me square in the chest. “Gilded cages and whatnot.”

Laughing softly, I nod. “Yeah, something like that.”

He goes back to his drawing and we sit like that, in comfortable silence. Slipping my fingers out of his hair, I brace my hands on his shoulders and watch him. Jamie’s eyes grow heavy. “Will it smudge?”

“It shouldn’t. These are quick dry, meant for face painting and shit like that. He runs his hand down my stomach, and I shiver. “See.” Holding up his hand as if that touch didn’t short-circuit my brain, Jamie smiles, just a little, but it feels like a win. “All clean.”

“What are you drawing?”

“A secret.”

“Is it your ass? Please, let it be your ass.”

“Unfortunately, no. I don’t think I even know what my ass looks like. Can’t draw it from memory.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to take a picture for you, I’m your guy.”

“So generous, thank you.” Jamie’s quiet a moment as he grabs another color. Whatever he’s drawing is big, running along my side and bleeding onto my stomach. “Um.” Looking up, he seems nervous. “I need you to pull your pants down, just a little. I need your hip. I’m almost done.”

“Do you need me to move?”

Looking to the side of the bed, he thinks. “Lean against those pillows again. I get off his lap reluctantly, and Jamie gets up, grabs the heating pad, sets it down, and shuts it off.

“Did it help?”

“Can I keep it for today? I’ll give it back.”

“Go ahead. No rush. I use it sometimes after I work out. How are you going to do this?”

After thinking for a moment, he gets on the bed between my legs and looks at the art. “I just need your hip for like fifteen minutes. I’m nearly done.” Cheeks pinkening, he looks away. “Can you just pull them down a bit?”

“How much?”

“A couple of inches. I need your hip.”

Thumbing the band of my sweats, I can’t help but look up at him as I slide them down, and Jamie’s eyes are fixed on my fingers pulling them down past my pelvic bone. He drags his eyes over my body—to my hip, then my stomach, and down to the peak of my neatly trimmed hair peeking out of my sweats.

“That’s... good.” Sitting between my legs, with his knee on the bed, his other foot on the floor, and my thigh over his lap, Jamie draws. “Your skin is so soft.” It’s barely a whisper, but I hear it, though I’m unsure if I was meant to.

I let Jamie draw, not knowing what to say, enjoying the comfortable silence between us. Watching him like this is an experience. His face’s hard lines relax and soften, making him look younger.

A smile grows wide on his face as he finishes up. “All done.” He doesn’t let me up, though. Capping the pen, his fingers smooth over the design he drew before they go down, smoothing over my hip. My cock stirs at the touch, and Jamie’s eyes peer up at me before he leans down slowly, eyes locking with mine, and presses a quick kiss to my hip bone.

My breath hitches. “Can I see?”

Nodding, Jamie gets off the bed and holds out a hand, helping me up. I go to my full length mirror and take it all in. “Holy fuck.” A fox runs down my stomach. I can’t believe how much he’s done in such a short amount of time. Flowers surround it, wrapping around and spilling onto my hip. Orange and black mix with the stark pink and red of each flower and the leaves around them. It’s realistic and abstract at the same time, with black geometric shapes and lines around the drawing. “This is insane.”

“Can I take a picture?” he asks.

“Only if you send me a copy.”

Smiling, he leaves the room, then returns with his phone in hand and takes a picture. Thumbing the band of my sweats, I pull them down slightly, watching the way Jamie’s eyes track down with the slight peek I’m giving him. “Uh, sent.”

“You are so damn talented.” His work should be in galleries. Through the mirror I watch Jamie sway a bit, looking at his drawing. “Hey, uh.” What he needs is sleep. “Back still sore?” Jamie looks up, glaring, before the fight drains out of him and he gives me a short nod. “Lie down.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh my god, stop being a baby. Just lie down. I won’t bite you... unless you ask nicely.” That earns me a soft laugh as he concedes, too tired to fight. “On your stomach.” Jamie rolls onto his stomach, and it takes everything in me not to react to the scars along his back—to the giant one running down his spine.

Damn.

Plugging in the heating pad, I place it on his lower back. “It’s bad.”

“Your scars don’t bother me. Just relax.” I turn it on high, and Jamie’s eyes flutter close. While we wait for the heat to come on, I lie down next to him. “Better?”

Shoulders sinking, Jamie looks at me and nods. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” I reach down and grab my blanket, pulling it up over us. “This is the greatest fox ever created! Everyone must see it. I don’t think I can ever wear a shirt again.”

“The horror.” His sleepy voice sounds too cute, and his eyes grow heavy, just like I wanted.

“It’s beautiful.” Lying down, I roll to my side, watching him. Carefully, I reach out, touching his face and smoothing my thumb along his temple. I can’t help but watch him soften with sleep. “Why a fox?”

One sleepy eye peeks open before shutting again. “I love foxes. They’re my favorite animal.” His voice is groggy, and I think he’s fallen asleep until he says after a minute, “They’re independent. They’re playful and mischievous and beautiful.” Eyes opening, Jamie looks at me. “Just like you.”

Words are lost to me, so I say nothing, and after a moment his breath evens out and softens

Moving a little closer, I adjust the pad, before laying my hand on his lower back. I freeze at the scars. Just like the front, they’re thick and ridged. As I slip my hand out, he moves closer, out cold now and snoring softly.

I throw an arm over him, and Jamie stirs but doesn’t move away when I shift closer inside his arms. I hold him against my smaller body, my own eyes closing softly. So comfortable.

It’s peace, and I feel Jamie could use a little of that.