Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
FADE CALLUM
Present day
Ifell in love with Erez the second time I met him. Not the first time.
My older brother asked if I’d go with him to get a new tattoo.
It was going to be a big one, covering most of his right thigh.
His favorite tattoo place was Poison Ink in downtown Flagstaff.
He said he really wanted to get a tat from the owner himself because his talent was off the wall, but he was always booked and didn’t take many new clients.
The best he could do was get a tattoo from one of the artists in the shop instead. All of which were incredible, mind you.
We stepped inside, and Shye pointed at the guy sitting behind the counter with his head bent. “That’s the owner,” he whispered with excitement, as if he were spotting a celebrity.
He didn’t appear to be anything special. Not that I could really see him.
“Hi, Erez,” Shye greeted when we stepped up to the counter.
Erez looked up, but he didn’t look at my brother. Just in our general direction.
“I have an appointment with Harley.”
He nodded and got to his feet. I watched as he tapped on the screen then gestured to the waiting area. “He’s almost ready. Have a seat, Shye.”
“Thanks,” Shye said with a big smile.
Erez didn’t return it. He didn’t even look at either of us. We were at the shop for three hours, and Erez treated almost everyone who came in with the same lack of interest. On our way out, Shye said, “I think he’s having a bad day.”
Honestly, I didn’t care what his day was like. That was no way to handle customer service. I’d written off Poison Ink.
Fast forward eight months, and I’d forgotten that interaction until I stepped back into Poison Ink.
I wanted a tattoo, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted or where I wanted to get it, so I’d been shopping around the different local tattoo shops.
Poison Ink had the most positive reviews by far, and they’d even been featured in magazines and shit.
It wasn’t until I stepped inside that I remembered, though it wasn’t even the appearance of the shop that I remembered. It was Erez sitting at the counter with his head bent. Great.
Before I could turn around and back out of the shop, Erez picked his head up and looked right at me. He smiled. “Oh good. I need an opinion.” He held up his sketchpad and asked, “Eyes closed or open?”
I was a little startled by this complete one-eighty from the last time we met, so it took me a minute to convince my feet to move forward. His face was completely transformed. His smile was beautiful. He was beautiful. Those eyes!
Then I looked at the picture he was working on, and my breath got stuck in my chest. I’d never seen something so beautiful. It wasn’t the subject matter so much as just… everything. The skill. It looked so real, so erotic, yet there was nothing overtly sexual about it.
“This is stunning,” I said.
He hummed. When I looked in his direction, I expected to see arrogance, but the expression on his face was anything but. He didn’t agree with my assessment. His hum was more thoughtful. Maybe disbelief.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Eyes closed or open?”
For a long time, I stared at the picture, then I closed my eyes as I imagined what message either would convey. How would it change the message of the picture? How did you keep the same evocative emotions?
“What if you have them looking through slitted eyes?” I asked. “Not in a… glaring way but kind of assessing. Maybe a little sultry?”
Erez tilted his head to the side as he studied the picture he was working on. I was rewarded with a smile that made my stomach flip. “Let’s see.”
Right before my eyes, Erez drew the most seductive eyes I’d ever seen. There was carnality hidden behind the long lashes as they looked at something off picture. They were hiding secrets.
“Wow,” I said before I could stop myself.
“That what you had in mind?” Erez asked.
“God no. I don’t have that kind of talent even in my head.”
Erez laughed.
That was five years ago, and I’ve fallen deeper in love with Erez Deth since then.
However, all my advances are in vain. He is completely and utterly oblivious.
I’m pretty sure I’ve taken him out on a hundred dates since then—walks on the beach, movies, meals, carnivals, whatever—and he’s entirely unaware of how much and how badly I want him.
We’ve become friends, after all. Best friends, I’d say.
So why wouldn’t we hang out and do these things?
I flirt. Endlessly. I’d given up on subtle years ago. I’m positive that everyone around us is aware that I want this man. Everyone except Erez.
I could probably kiss him at the end of a date, and he’d still overlook it. Unless I spell it out for him, I think he’s going to remain oblivious.
The thing is, I’m not even sure if this man is into guys. I’m honestly beginning to think he’s either aromantic, asexual, or both. His absolute disinterest is as frustrating as it is fascinating.
More importantly, I’ve also learned that Erez’s mood can range from really good days to very, very dark days.
The darkest days, I can see the storm clouds reflected in his eyes.
They don’t just hang over his head; they bury themselves inside him.
The rumbling from the impending storm creates static in the air around him.
But he won’t tell me why even though I think Erez has told me most anything I’ve asked. Except this one thing. I don’t know what haunts him, and he won’t tell me.
I park my bike outside the shop and kill the engine as I look up at the Poison Ink sign.
Today is a tattoo day. I don’t have nearly as many as I want.
I’m slowly working my way through my list of places and designs.
There’s this vision in my head that I’m dying to replicate on my skin.
The black ink on my dark skin gives the most alluring appearance. I’m addicted.
But I’m also a little terrified of the needle. Thus why I still only have three tattoos to show for the past five years. I’ve partially convinced myself that I’ve been focusing on trying to get Erez to at least acknowledge my feelings for him instead... even if he doesn’t return them.
Taking a deep breath, I hit the kickstand with my heel and let my bike lean over. I don’t bother to take my helmet off until I’m pushing my way through the door.
Harley, Rod, and Erez are in the shop today. Erez is at the counter where he usually is when he’s in the office. He flashes me a smile when he meets my eyes, but even from across the room, I can tell the storm clouds are still lurking in his eyes.
They’ve been there more frequently over the past few months. Far more than in the past.
“Hey,” I greet, setting my helmet behind the counter on a shelf for safe keeping. “Good day?”
Erez looks around as if he’s looking for the answer. Eventually, he nods. “Yep. Pretty good day. Rod and Harley are fully booked, and their clients are actually turning up and paying their bills.”
“Nice.” I lean against the counter for a minute, then stare down at his sketchpad and sigh. He has more talent in his pinky than I have in my entire body. “I swear, you get better every day.”
He snorts. “Thanks.”
At least he doesn’t argue anymore. I call that improvement.
Erez closes the sketchbook and sets it under the counter. Mine was under it already, open to the image we plan on working today.
I have this huge vision of mythical animals curling around my body, moving up my neck and around my torso, circling my arms and legs. Amidst the intertwined beasts will be smaller images. Symbols. Items that represent something important to me.
Today is a reimagined—and far better—image of a cat I found online. Although it’s in the style of the rest of the beasts that will eventually cover my body, this cat is special. I didn’t want to wait on him.
His fur and features will be in the nonbinary flag colors.
It’s one of the few designs that will be in color, and that color will bleed into the design that will eventually surround it.
Erez perfectly captured masculine and feminine elements on this little beast, and the collar, instead of a name, will read He/They.
Erez turns the book toward me and slides it closer. “Still good with this design?”
I chew the inside of my lip and study it. Honestly, Erez could draw a pile of shit on me, and I’d be happy. His talent never fails to make me breathless. “Yes.”
“Still on your hip?”
“That’s where it fits in the overall design,” I say and meet his eyes. “We’d have to recreate the whole thing if I move him now.”
He chuckles and slides it back. “True, but I still need to check. Ready?” He gets to his feet, bringing the book with him.
My heart races as I follow him to his station in the back. We’re in a private room that’s Erez’s alone. It’s filled with his art and images of tattoos he’s completed in the past. The window overlooks a small park behind the building.
“Take your clothes off,” Erez says as he turns to his computer.
Once again, my heart jumps. My cock jumps too. I know he needs me to take my clothes off for the tattoo. Obviously. But Jesus fuck, I’ve dreamed of hearing him say those words to me.
I swear I’m frozen for just a second, but it’s long enough that Erez glances at me. “You want me to tattoo through your clothes, Fade?”
I roll my eyes to play off my arousal. God, I’m going to get hard while I’m lying in front of him. Naked. With nothing but a sheet covering my dick.
Sighing in resignation, I begin pulling off my clothes and neatly fold them. With a fortifying breath, I drop my underwear and toss them on top. I don’t run to the chair. That would be embarrassing. I also try to ignore the semi-chub.
I suppose this is a way to initiate a conversation about… my attraction to him. A little awkward, but you take the chances you’re given.
Erez doesn’t look at me as he’s getting his inks and shit ready. I usually watch him because the whole process is fascinating to me, but not this time. Otherwise I’d be leaning over his shoulder, naked, and probably poke him in the ribs with my boner.
Once I’m settled with the sheet over my cock and left leg, Erez turns around to face me. I watch as he wipes my hip then covers it with shaving cream. My brain is all kinds of fuzzy and interprets this as romantic.
Because there’s a ton of romantic encounters that involve shaving your lover’s hip.
“Okay so… It’s been a while, and you’re going to be really close to my dick, so if I pop a boner… don’t be, uh, offended,” I warn.
Erez laughs, but he doesn’t break the rhythm of what he’s doing, now wiping it all clean. “Noted.”
I rarely blush, but I can feel my cheeks burn. It’s not like what I said is false. It has been a while since I’ve gotten off with anyone other than my hand.
It’s not easy to see what he’s doing when I’m lying flat on my back. I’d have to awkwardly crane my neck, and that would cause me to move.
“Want me to set up the mirror?” Erez asks.
I consider this. Then I’ll be able to see how hard my cock gets in response to his touch. Yet, yeah. I want to see. Watching Erez draw is one of my favorite things. “Please.”
Erez nods. He’s currently arranging the transfer on my hip so it fits into the grid we’ve lined my body with on his computer. Once he has it settled and flat, he pulls the arm of the chair over and adjusts the mirror so I can see.
“Good?”
I nod. “Perfect.”
Erez gently and slowly pulls the transfer off, and I’m left looking at a smooth outline that looks absolutely nothing like the drawing. The basic shape is there, of course. I know the details will come once he gets the lines in place.
“Why has it been a while?” Erez asks.
I’m so distracted by watching him begin following the lines on my hip that I don’t quite follow his question. “What?”
Erez glances up at me, amused. “You said you’re going to pop a woody because it’s been a while.”
“Oh. Because the guy I like is fucking oblivious.”
“And you’ve sworn off orgasms because he’s oblivious?”
“No.” I’m about to blurt that I’ve had plenty of orgasms since falling in love with him, but that the great majority of those orgasms haven’t been as satisfactory as I’d like.
Probably because I’ve so built up what it would be like with Erez that reality will likely never live up to my expectations at this point.
“I don’t have a reason,” I say eventually.
“Why is he oblivious?”
I roll my eyes. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, “You tell me,” but I decide when he’s poking me with a needle isn’t the time.
“Some guys wouldn’t realize they’re the object of someone’s attention even if the interested guy pops a woody right in front of them.
Even if they’re the only ones in the room. ”
Erez laughs. “Guess not.”
God. Fucking man.
“They need it to be spelled out for them.”
He nods absently.
“Let’s say, hypothetically, that you were oblivious. What would you need someone to say to you?” I prompt.
“Ask me out.”
“That’s what you’d want?”
He nods.
“And if that hasn’t worked? Like, I’m pretty sure we’ve gone on dozens of dates at this point, and he’s still obtuse.”
“Obtuse.” Erez laughs. “Well… Just tell him then, I guess. I like you. Like that.”
“Simple as that, huh?” I ask skeptically.
One of his shoulders rises. “I don’t see why not.”
“Would that work on you, Erez?”
The corner of his mouth remains curled in a grin. “You can’t get more straightforward than that. Can you?”
“You don’t think asking him to go to the movies, or to the beach, or dancing is clear enough?”
“Sounds like it should be.”
“Yes,” I agree, glaring at him in the mirror. “It should be.”
His eyes rise to mine, and yeah. There’s no indication he understands that he’s the guy I’m interested in. When he looks back down at his work, I sigh. “Forever in the friendzone,” I mutter.
Erez laughs quietly.