Ben
Maybe Gavin hadn’t heard him. And that was probably for the best, right? Because, seriously, I’m coming and oh-by-the-way-I-love-you is kind of ridiculous. Who does that? He hadn’t meant to say it, but once the words were out, part of him had been relieved. The rest of him was in a cold panic, sure, but there was one small fragment that was glad he’d finally let it out. Gavin had been chasing him for a full year now, and was ready to be caught.
Despite how absurd the idea of them together was.
He made quick work of the cleanup without saying anything else, and when he had finished, he tucked Gavin up against him, covered them both, and reached for the lamp. Maybe he just needed a good night’s sleep to clear his head and let this thing go.
“Don’t,” Gavin said quietly, reaching out to stop from turning off the light. He shifted in ’s arms and pushed him onto his back. “I wanna see.”
Gavin looked bashful as hell, but he crawled on top of and started tracing his fingertips over ’s skin.
“Can’t you see in the morning?” asked, quirking a brow, unable to stop his smile as he looked at Gavin.
At first, Gavin only shook his head in answer. Then, as his fingers landed on ’s oldest, and probably his favorite tattoo, Gavin said, “This one isn’t your design.”
How he knew that was a mystery, but nodded. He didn’t have to look down to know which one Gavin was talking about. He could feel Gavin running over the amateurish lines of the wolf, baying at the moon.
“Did your friend do this one?” was pretty sure he knew which friend Gavin was talking about, but Gavin added in an apologetic whisper, “The one who died?”
Jeremy had been his best friend since the second grade. They’d been more like brothers than buddies. They were technically distant cousins, but hadn’t learned that until Jeremy’s funeral when he was seventeen. Fucking leukemia.
“How’d you know that?”
Gavin looked surprised by the question, but he answered anyway. “You never fixed it. It’s never been touched up, or… I just figured that was probably why.”
Well, hell. The kid paid even closer attention than had realized. With a shrug, said, “I’ve thought about fixing it, could probably do it myself in the mirror, but…”
“Sometimes the imperfections are what make it perfect.”
Damn. nodded in answer. He didn’t know what to say to that. Gavin was right, of course, but looking up into Gavin’s face, the way his blond hair fell over his eyes, his full lips flushed pink against alabaster skin… On the surface, Gavin was the embodiment of perfection, but knew him better than that. Gavin’s scars just ran too deep to see, even up close.
Before could say anything else, Gavin slid his hand higher, resting it over ’s heart. “Why don’t you have anything here?”
The answer to that one was more embarrassing than realized, at least when he had to admit it to Gavin. “Saving that for something special. I’ll know it when I find it.”
Gavin didn’t ask for anything further, thank God, but he did inch his way lower. He skipped over the few places he’d looked at earlier, when had stripped off his clothes. Gavin traced the line work down his thigh, over his kneecap, down his shin. Those ones were nothing special, almost like doodles that had tried to work into a coherent design of leaves and flowers, vines. Gavin seemed to know without asking that they were only decorative with no real meaning behind them.
He paused to tickle ’s feet, made him flinch and jump and laugh, before he finally slid off him. thought he might be allowed to sleep now, but no. “Turn over,” Gavin said, his voice quiet, with a hint of childish demand in it.
did what he was asked, rolling his eyes and grinning as he tucked a pillow under his chin before he spread his arms out for Gavin.
He could picture each line as Gavin found them with his fingers, tickling here and there, and waited for the laugh when Gavin moved higher up his legs.
Something close to a giggle slipped out when Gavin asked, “Why do you have a giant rainbow-colored rose on your ass?”
Unable to stop the groan with his answer, buried his face in the pillow and said, “Because I was drunk, and my friends are dicks.”
Gavin laughed again, but he sounded like he was at least trying to stop himself. “You really need a pair of assless leather pants for that one.”
“Never would I ever.”
Gavin leaned over him and pressed a kiss just behind ’s ear. “Not even for me?”
For you? Probably. “No, not even for you.”
He didn’t say anything else, but Gavin did laugh again as he pulled back. He traced one finger up ’s spine and then trailed it over his lower back.
“That one’s—”
“Shh, lemme see if I can guess.”
settled again and let Gavin work his way over each bit of ink. His back was one solid design, a landscape of his life, or the parts that really mattered, at least.
When Gavin swept the palm of his hand over the ocean tide, closed his eyes and pictured it. It felt good, having Gavin touch him like this, as if he were memorizing every detail. But there was something vulnerable about it too. Most people—guys at the gym, even lovers—who’d seen him naked just looked, sometimes curious, sometimes admiringly, but it never felt like there was anything beyond that. When Gavin sat quietly and studied his body, touching the pictures and the muscles beneath, it felt like Gavin was reading him, absorbing every painful moment, every joy, every memory. It was unsettling, even if he didn’t want it to end.
“That’s your dad,” Gavin said quietly, his fingertip running over each wave on the choppy, unpredictable sea. His father had been a fisherman, so that one was maybe an easy guess. But when Gavin ran his hand higher, outlined the full moon above the sandy shore, and said, “That’s your mom.” ’s stomach flinched. The kid knew him too well. “Always pulling him back.”
Gavin spent a few moments on the spindly tree that wrapped around his ribs and reached high on his shoulder, scraping the invisible sky under the moon, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he searched over to the other side and traced the two lonely gulls flying high above. “That’s you and your sister.”
had to ask, “How’d you know?”
Leaning close again, kissing his left shoulder where the two birds flew together, Gavin said, “You always say your parents gave you roots and wings.”
Yeah, Gavin definitely paid attention.
When he sat back again, he moved his hand over to the tree, as if he’d been considering it the whole time. When Gavin circled a small spot, was sure he was tracing the outline of another small bird, frail and huddled on the longest branch. “Your baby brother?”
only nodded against the pillow. Talking about Hunter was never an easy topic for him, but Gavin knew that already. Fucking car crashes. Fucking drunk drivers. Hunter had been three, five. His mother was pregnant with Anna, close to term and ready to burst. Their father had taken the month off to be home when the baby was born. He’d dropped off at school that morning, taken Hunter with him so their mother could get some rest. If hadn’t dragged his feet that morning, or if he’d managed to talk his parents into letting him stay home from school, if they hadn’t gotten caught at the red light, or if they’d managed to get through the railroad tracks before the signal started and the train crossed, if they’d been on time that morning, maybe Hunter would still be alive.
As it turned out, that morning—like just about everything else in life—was about chance and timing. was late for school, rushing to hop out of the car when his father dropped him off. Hunter was sitting in the front seat with a lap belt fastened around him, loose, pointless, but not uncommon for the time. Nowadays, a father driving around with a little kid like that would be a criminal, but then? He was just a dad out with his son.
Instead of turning right toward home, they’d taken a left turn, probably headed for the park. A car ran the light and T-boned them on Hunter’s side. hadn’t been there, had only heard about it in whispers and sobs, but that didn’t stop his little boy brain from picturing it, dreaming about it for years.
Anna was born two days later. She came into the world bloodied and crying, shaking her little fists—or so their mother said. She came into a world of grief and mourning, to a woman crying for too many reasons to count. They bundled her up in a white satin blanket, and she rested quietly in their father’s arms at Hunter’s funeral. A bright spot of hope in a sea of black.
“So the tree,” Gavin started quietly. He pulled out of his thoughts so quickly it was like being jerked out of a dream. “That’s, what? Heaven?”
More or less, thought. “That’s family,” he said instead. “There’s a branch for everyone that’s gone now. My grandparents, Dad, my favorite aunts and uncles…” There was one for Jeremy too, but figured Gavin knew that without saying.
Anyone looking at would never know he carried the names on his skin, sealed in blood and ink. Everyone who ever mattered to him had a small sacred space, in his heart and on his body.
Gavin sat quietly for another long moment. He moved his hands from ’s back and shoulders up into his hair. Gavin stroked him like he might with a restless animal, petting , maybe trying to comfort him. “I think that’s beautiful,” he whispered finally before sliding off to ’s side. The words sounded like condolences and wishes and loneliness all wrapped up together. realized then that Gavin had very few names he’d carry with him. His family wasn’t really family. They were distant at best, hateful more often than not. Gavin had to make his own family, and lying there next to him, it dawned on that Gavin had chosen him for that roster with very few others.
The idea choked him up, but rather than say anything, he turned onto his side again and pulled Gavin as close as he could, wrapped himself around Gavin and tugged the blankets higher. He kissed Gavin’s temple, held him tight, and hoped Gavin could settle down enough to get some sleep.
“You can turn the light off now if you want.”
Right. wanted to stay exactly where he was, but he thought Gavin wouldn’t have mentioned it if he hadn’t wanted it dark and quiet, so he shifted a little, turned off the lamp, and made himself comfortable again.
Gavin wiggled against him, reminding of a cat trying to find the right spot on its favorite chair. When he was done, Gavin had somehow burrowed nearly under ’s side, ’s arm and leg wrapped around, Gavin tucked comfortably against him. lived alone, but he thought if anyone were to walk in, they wouldn’t even see Gavin there, hidden away from the world, his shelter. He liked that idea way too much.
After a long, silent few moments, when thought Gavin had actually fallen asleep, Gavin asked, “Hey, ?” didn’t respond beyond tightening his arms around Gavin and kissing the top of his head. Gavin must have taken it for an invitation to go on. “Earlier, when… uh, when you said… I mean, was that, like, thanks for the orgasm, or…?”
didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. “It was or. But, thanks for the orgasm.”
He could feel Gavin’s little rush of breath against his skin and— was almost sure—Gavin’s lips turning up in a smile.
“I love you too.”
Maybe Gavin fell asleep after that. It took a lot longer, though. He lay awake for another hour or so, thinking how complicated his life just got. He felt like a fool for being happy about it, but his father had told him once that love thrived in complication, in the messiest parts of the soul. The best parts.