4. Julian
FOUR
JULIAN
“I’m sorry.”
I bark out a laugh. I mean it’s not funny, but Elijah’s acting like he’s telling me he has three months to live, not that he doesn’t want to hook up anymore.
It’s been a few weeks since I saw him last anyway. I don’t know if I’d call us friends. I mean, we’re friendly. Elijah’s a great guy, and I like hanging out with him beyond the sex.
With him it’s different than any other hookup I’ve had—we hang out after, get dinner or something, and watch TV or whatever. I love animated movies and he’s never made fun of me for that. Some guys I’ve been with think it’s childish, which I think is bullshit.
Maybe we are friends?
“Don’t apologize, it’s fine.” I don’t even think I’ll miss it. It was easy and kind of nice. I like him as a friend, but there’s nothing there beyond hot sex. “You still want me to finish your sleeve, right?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” He laughs. We’re in his truck now and he looks exhausted.
The last few times we’ve hung out there’s been these shadows in his eyes that weren’t there when we first started this a year ago.
I know he’s been going back and forth between his home, nearly an hour away, and his new job.
“It’s nothing personal at all. You’re fucking incredible but I don’t know .
. . something’s going on. I have no idea what. ”
“Something or someone?”
Elijah’s dark eyes swing to me. “I’ll tell you when you tell me why you haven’t asked Ian out yet.”
“You know why, shut up.” I know Ian doesn’t think about me that way. Ian thinks about no one that way. I can’t speak to his grief, only to what I know, and what I know is that Ian loved Maddox maybe more than anyone has ever loved another person. “I don’t think he’ll ever move on.”
Elijah nods. “I know someone who was on call that night,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” He clears his throat. “And no, it’s nothing like that. Well, I don’t think so anyway. I don’t fucking know. It just doesn’t feel right hooking up while I figure it out,” he finally says.
“Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” I sigh. “Guess I’ll have to find someone else to suck my dick.” He slaps me as I laugh.
“Or . . .” Elijah’s red lips curve into a slow smile. “You could nut up and ask Ian.”
“And we’re done here. Fuck you very much.”
Not the image I need right now. Those are the types of images for my bedroom at night, stroking myself to the thought that maybe, just maybe, Ian could feel the same. Some people call them delusions. I like to think of them as spicy wishes.
Shifting in his truck, I have a thought to download an app and find someone new tonight. I have all this pent-up energy, and I’ll admit when I saw Elijah earlier I was looking forward to getting rid of it. “Do you want me to drop you off?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll walk.” I squeeze his shoulder. “Still coming Friday?”
“Yeah. Fuck, Julian, I mean it. None of this has anything to do with you. I like you a lot, I do. You’re amazing and you’re an incredible artist. I like that you’re nerdy and fun to hang around. It’s just me, this shit I’m dealing with right now.”
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
He’s quiet for a moment then shakes his head. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”
“Well, I’m here. I know we’re not exactly friends but—”
“We’re not?” He genuinely looks confused.
“I mean, are we?”
He shrugs. “I mean, maybe.” He laughs softly then leans forward, pressing a kiss to my lips, then he pats my face. “I’ll see you Friday, alright?”
“Sounds good.” I open his door and get out. “And just because I’m not giving you a tip anymore doesn’t mean I don’t get a tip when I tattoo.”
“Fuck off,” he laughs and I shut the door.
I wonder if Ian’s still working. It’s nearly eight now and he shouldn’t be, but he’s been working all day, seven days a week, for so long I don’t know how he hasn’t crashed.
We need new people in the shop. While a waitlist is amazing, ours is too long, and to make a dent in it he’s working himself to death.
Every time I bring it up, he shuts down. I don’t understand why. If it’s because of Maddox, I don’t know how to deal with that. I mean, I didn’t know the guy, but if my man was working himself like this, I’d demand he get help.
Ian can’t keep going like this.
I love Ian. I do. But he gets so focused on one thing he refuses to see anything else around him. Like solving a puzzle in a burning building. He doesn’t notice the fire around him; he just focuses on the problem, refusing to acknowledge the flames.
And right now, the shop is burning.
I have some ideas, but I know it’s not my place. The thing is, this is where I thrive. Before I became an artist, I worked at this startup company. I helped build it into something incredible. I’m great with numbers, but I was miserable there.
I’ve always had a drive for creativity. I love art.
My mother used to tell me I should pursue it, but there was no money in it, and my focus was always making her life as easy as possible.
She worked so much while I was growing up, and I wanted to give her a break.
Then she passed away and her wish was that I finally go after my dreams. I’ve always loved tattoos, even though I didn’t have any of my own.
Once I tried it, I didn’t want to go back.
Meeting Ian was fate.
He changed my life.
Now I just want to make his a little easier. The thing about Ian is, he’s stubborn as hell, and any mention of hiring new artists or doing things differently, he shuts down. I’ve tried. Anna’s tried.
Up ahead there’s a pizza place and I have an idea.
I walk in, order a pizza, and decide to go back to Ian’s.
I don’t want to be alone right now, and more than that I want to see how Ian’s doing.
He’s been off since last week. I guess more off than normal.
I’m really not sure what’s up with the eighths of every month.
He’s never shared that with me. Every month on the eighth he goes down to the cemetery and visits Maddox.
Once my order’s up, I head down the street.
It’s about a ten-minute walk, and doing that with the smell of pizza is torture.
I’m so fucking hungry. I don’t think I ate much today.
I had three appointments and worked straight through.
I was a little nauseous after seeing Jamie get tattooed too, and didn’t have much of an appetite.
I’m not a squeamish guy, but seeing how much he was struggling really hit me.
I know he’s going to be in pain for a while.
Finally, the shop comes into view and I make my way around the building and up the back steps.
I knock and wait. Shit, what if he’s asleep?
Damn, I should have checked. The door opens and Ian stands there shirtless in a pair of sweats, and my eyes go right to the galaxy tattoo.
It’s hard not to look at it. It’s huge, spanning across his chest and up his sternum then spilling up onto his throat.
Throat tattoos scare the fuck out of me.
I want one, but I don’t know. It’s one of the few places I have left.
“Julian?”
“Hey, sorry. I was hungry and wanted to know if you wanted some pizza. I haven’t eaten much today.”
“I thought you were with Elijah.” I don’t miss the way his name sounds on his tongue. Why does he seem irritated? For some reason I don’t think Ian likes him very much. I have no idea why. Elijah’s a great guy.
“Oh, no. He just wanted to talk about something quickly.”
“Talk?” His brow quirks.
My eyes narrow on him. “Do you want pizza or not?!”
“Depends.” Ian looks at me then the pizza. “Is it pepperoni?”
I shove him into his house.
Ian’s apartment is a small studio above the shop. There’s a living room area and a brick wall separating it from the bedroom. The only separate room is the bathroom off to the side. We walk into the kitchen. “You want a drink?”
“Sure.” I follow him to his fridge and watch him grab two glass bottles.
“Let’s go up to the roof. It’s nice out.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
I follow behind him, watching the way the muscles in his back move and flex.
He has a giant tattoo on his back too. It looks like a devil, or maybe an angel.
Its inky black body is muscled. It has no discernible features, it’s face shadowed, and the horns sprouting from its head look like antelope horns curving and twisting.
The figure’s black wings spread across his back reaching his shoulders, and a giant red moon pops behind it while red drips beneath the massive form.
I assume Maddox did it. While the image is clear, it looks like it was painted with ink. A lot like the tattoo on his wrist. Even the inky galaxy on his chest has this style.
He opens the door leading to the stair access to the roof. We’ve hung out up here quite a bit after shifts. It’s warm right now. In the seventies and slowly cooling off.
I follow him to the outdoor couch he has up here and set the pizza on the table, then I open it and hand him a slice. We eat in silence and I can’t help just taking everything in.
I don’t remember at what point I realized I had these feelings for Ian.
I wish I didn’t have them. It’s a brutal reality knowing that you’ll never be enough for the person you care for.
Ian doesn’t talk much about Maddox, but I don’t think he’s been in a relationship since. I know I haven’t seen it.
Maybe he’s okay with that. I know there are people who are at peace never being in love again when the person they love passes. Yet there are shadows in Ian’s eyes. I don’t know if they’re from how hard he works or something deeper he’s not ready to talk about. “Jamie’s tattoo was rough.”
Ian finishes chewing and nods. “I texted him a bit ago. He didn’t respond so he’s probably passed out.” He takes another bite, thinking. “I tried to get him to do it on his ribs. It sucks, but there’s no scarring there. He wanted it on his back, though.” He shakes his head.
“Do you have a plan for the scars?” While tattooing over the types of scars Jamie has is not impossible, it’s not usually something that’s recommended.
I know Ian can pull it off, but it takes expertise and caution to do it.
They’ve only got the outline done, though, which didn’t hit over too many of them.
The color will take a lot more time to make sure he doesn’t damage Jamie’s skin or cause blowouts.
Ian’s very good at his job, and I trust he knows what he’s doing, or he wouldn’t have said yes in the first place.
I know from experience Ian’s got a light hand.
He’s also very patient and gentle with his clients.
He nods, finishing his bite. “I want to put them in the flames. I think the purple will add dimension to the colors I’m picking.
It’s just going to be a shitshow for a bit.
” He laughs without humor. “I don’t get squeamish, but I was worried.
His surgery scars aren’t as bad now, they’ve healed flat, but the raised ones . . . those are going to be tricky.”
We finish our pizza in silence and I grab another slice. I’m starving. Ian does the same. “Thanks for this.” He smiles softly. “I don’t remember the last time I ate today. I’ve got a headache growing behind my eyes.”
“No problem. I didn’t eat much either. I was just coming back from seeing Elijah.”
Ian eats for a moment, but it’s like I can feel his question before he asks it. “Can I ask what the deal is there? Like, are you two together?”
I almost laugh. “No. Elijah is relationship allergic.” I think for a moment and decide on the truth. “We just hang out. Nothing serious.”
“Hang out.”
“Well, parts of us are usually hanging out.”
He barks out a laugh.
“He actually just broke it off with me.”
“Oh, shit, man. I’m sorry.”
I wave it away. “It’s nothing serious; it’s just fun.” Or it used to be. The last few times it was . . . well, it just was. Nothing more, nothing less. “He’s got some shit going on, I guess. Needs a break.” I dare a little as he takes a sip of his drink. “What about you?”
His brows scrunch. “What about me?”
“You seeing anyone?”
I watch the way his face falls then he tries to right it. “Uh, no.” He laughs humorlessly. “Nope.”
The answer pushes us into an awkward silence that makes my chest feel tight. I try to think of something else to say, but the longer it takes the tighter my lungs feel. I can’t think of anything. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. What did I expect to happen?
The town hums beneath us, soft and restless just like my lungs with each passing minute, the smell of warm pizza and night air brushing past me.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m waiting for him to look at me and go, him, right there.
I want him. It’ll never happen, though, and I need to start being realistic. Ian is unattainable.
The tips of his fingers rub slow circles on his temples. “Bad headache?”
“Just tension behind my eyes. I get like this if I don’t eat.”
I move a little to the end of the couch and pat my lap. “Lie down.”
“What?”
“Just lie down.” Ian’s auburn brows quirk before he slowly turns and rests his head on my lap. “Just close your eyes. Relax a little, okay?” He listens, shutting his eyes softly, and I just take a minute.
A small smile tugs on my lips.
I cup the sides of his face with my hands and gently smooth my thumbs along his temples. “That feels good.”
“Good.” I smile. “When I get headaches, I lie down and rub my temples like this.” I sit here stroking his face, and watch the way his body seems to relax a little. “You work tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he says sleepily. “A couple of appointments. Nothing big.”
I want him to rest. It’s been a while since he had a day off, but just like bringing up new artists, whenever I bring this up Ian shuts down. I don’t know what he thinks he needs to prove. Life is short, Ian knows that more than most, and while we love tattooing, there’s more to living than work.
“Need me to come in? I can help.”
Ian’s eyes flutter open and he looks up at me. They’re this blue-green color. “No. Enjoy your day off, okay. They’re easy tattoos.”
My thumbs continue rubbing along his temples. “Feel better?”
“Much better, Jules.” He smiles slightly. “Thank you.”
He gets up and I miss the heat of him. “Anytime.” He sits there next to me. His eyes flick to my mouth then drag up to my eyes. For half a heartbeat neither of us move. We’re stuck in this weird standstill I’ve shoved us into.
Ian blinks then pulls away, sitting back on his side of the couch and snapping this weird tension as he grabs another piece of pizza.
I’m left on this side feeling the charged effects of whatever that was.
It felt like he was going to lean in and kiss me.
Or maybe my brain’s making up more delusions than I want it to.
Whatever that was burns inside me, soft and glowing.
Like a burning star that has yet to give out.