Ink, Sweat, and Tears
Can you find your one true love in the remains of two failed
relationships?
When tax accountant Dean Fowler moves into a new home after
wasting six years in an unfulfilling relationship, he finds the man
of his dreams on his doorstep—literally. His new neighbour,
gorgeous tattoo artist Caelan Stokes, has just become available
after putting up with an unfaithful lover for too long. Opposites
attract and an intimate evening of comparing notes on what it's
like to find your hopes and expectations shattered leads them to
share an even more intimate night of sexual pleasures.
Caelan's wounds might run deeper than it seems at first, though,
and Dean resorts to unusual measures to create something that
lasts, but are the sparks—and the ink—that fly between them
enough to build a new love on the ruins of their pasts?
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary
Length: 27,144 words
INK, SWEAT, AND TEARS
Sage Marlowe
EROTIC ROMANCE
MANLOVE
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove
INK, SWEAT, AND TEARS
Copyright © 2012 by Sage Marlowe
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-859-3
First E-book Publication: July 2012
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Ink, Sweat, and Tears by Sage
Marlowe from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you.
Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or
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Amanda Hilton, Publisher
DEDICATION
Dedicated to the ink in my life…
INK, SWEAT, AND TEARS
SAGE MARLOWE
Copyright © 2012
Chapter 1
“Do you want a hand with that?”
“Huh?” Spinning around at the sound of the unfamiliar but rather
pleasant voice, Dean unexpectedly found himself face to face with a
hallucination. Well, not quite, but the man who stood before him did
look like the ones that his brain could usually conjure up only in some
of his more elaborate fantasies.
“I said do you want a hand with that?” Repeating his offer
patiently, the gorgeous blond jerked his head at the heap of assorted
things Dean called his own.
“Um, that’s very nice of you,” Dean said, baffled.
“Well, I’m a nice guy.”
I’m sure you are. Dean bit the thought back before it could tumble
out of his mouth and instead explained rather lamely, “I’m just
moving in.” Yeah. Right. As if the big moving van that blocked half
of the road wasn’t a clear indication of what he was doing. It was
probably a good thing that the shop which occupied the basement was
closed. The owner would not be too happy about being shielded from
view—and business—by a very big, very ugly, very green vehicle.
“I thought so.” A cute dimple showed in the stranger’s left cheek
as he held out his hand. “So you’re the new tenant, huh? I’m Caelan
Stokes, nice to meet you.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
9
“Dean Fowler, new tenant.” Dean returned the smile, minus the
dimple, and shook Caelan’s hand. “My pleasure.”
Caelan held his gaze for just as long as it took Dean to notice that
he had the most beautiful, grey-green eyes. They were dappled with
tiny black specks and glittered with the kind of underlying mischief
that held a promise of interesting things to come. Intriguing.
Something he could definitely stand to investigate further.
Caelan shifted the focus of his beautiful eyes to the van’s open
belly. “So what about your stuff?”
“Oh, yes. That.” Dean sighed. “I was hoping for two of my friends
to show up but they’re running a bit late. About half a day late, to be
precise, so if you’re serious about your offer, you could help me with
the things that require two people to carry. I should be good with the
rest then. I just really hope I get it all done by tonight. I don’t suppose
that shop’s owner would be too pleased with me if I blocked him for
another day.” Frowning, he looked at the dark windows of the
basement. A tattoo studio, no less. It had made him waver a little over
the decision to move into the building. After all, you never knew what
kind of clientele a tattoo studio attracted. Identifying the thought as
exactly the kind of narrow-minded, prejudiced notion Phil would
come up with, Dean had cast it aside and signed the lease.
“Sure. No problem. The studio’s closed today, so technically
you’d only be blocking it for one day but you’re right, it would be
better if you were done by tonight. What d’you wanna start with?”
Ogling his belongings sceptically, Dean tried to assess the task
ahead. And once again, he regretted having insisted on taking
everything with him that he was entitled to. “How about the sofa?
Then at least we get the worst part over with soonest.”
“Okay.”
It was a lot easier said than done, but in the end they managed to
get the huge but very comfortable sofa up the first set of stairs.
Staring at the door to the flat on the first floor, Dean wasted some of
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Sage Marlowe
his breath on saying, “Maybe I should have tried to get this one. That
would have spared us a lot of sweat.”
“Ah, well, that flat’s taken,” Caelan panted and raised his arms
over his head to stretch his back.
“Too bad. I hope whoever lives there doesn’t mind us parking that
sofa in their hall for a while.”
Caelan flashed a cute grin. “Not at all. We can park here all day if
you want. It’s mine,” he explained in answer to Dean’s doubtful
glance.
“Oh. Care to swap?”
“No.”
“Ah well, it doesn’t hurt to ask. Ready to go on?”
“Yep.”
“Are you sure you want to help me with the rest, too?” Dean
asked some time later when they had recovered sufficiently from
carrying the sofa.
“So far, yes, but stop asking me or I might change my mind.”
Seemingly untroubled and with a crooked grin on his face, Caelan
bounced downstairs where he inspected the van’s contents while he
waited for Dean to catch up.
“Got dumped, huh?” he asked sympathetically and jerked his head
at the pile of assembled furniture, moving boxes, and other titbits.
“Uh, no, not quite.”
“Oops, sorry. I just thought it looks a lot like you ended up with
half a household.”
Glancing at his belongings, Dean realised that he was right. Apart
from the items that were uniquely personal things like clothes, books
and his beloved CD collection, he had indeed ended up with half of
what had been bought jointly.
“It’s that obvious, is it?”
“I suppose anyone who’s been there and done that knows what the
remains of a relationship look like.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
11
“Hmm, probably,” Dean admitted with a grin, suddenly cheerful
as he once again reminded himself of his newly established freedom
and all the possibilities it offered. Or rather, the possibilities he was
allowed to accept now. “You’re right about this being the remains of a
relationship. It was me who did the dumping though.”
“Oh.” For the fragment of a second a scowl flickered across
Caelan’s features, but he quickly chased it away with a lopsided
smile. “Well, I guess in that case I don’t need to offer my
condolences, do I?”
“Not really. Congratulations would be more appropriate. And
appreciated.”
“Okay. Congrats,” Caelan said smoothly, although he did not
sound entirely convinced.
“Hey, what’s with the sad face?” Dean teased.
“Uh, nothing.” Caelan flashed a quick, evasive grin and turned to
pick up one of the boxes. “Let’s just keep moving. You don’t wanna
end up with your stuff sitting here all night, do you?”
“No, you’re right about that.” Following Caelan inside and up the
stairs, Dean seized the opportunity to check him out discreetly.
His new neighbour was a pretty striking creature who seemingly
invested some time in keeping that gorgeous body of his in excellent
shape. Judging from the way he carried the awfully heavy box that
contained a lot of Dean’s CDs, he was quite a bit stronger than his
slender build led one to assume. Well, clothes could hide a lot and
Dean had seen enough guys without any to make an educated guess at
what this one’s faded jeans and black hoodie must be hiding. The
jeans definitely hid long, lean legs and a very shapely derrière that
wiggled enticingly as Caelan climbed the stairs in front of Dean.
Averting his gaze, Dean focussed on the pattern of the stone steps.
Free man or not, he was treading dangerous grounds eyeing up the
only soul who was willing to help him. If he made a dog’s dinner of
working with Caelan, he was most likely to end up alone with the rest
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Sage Marlowe
of his stuff. And there were still more of his possessions to move and
sort through than he cared to think about.
* * * *
They continued to carry things inside for a while, too busy saving
their breaths for the exertion of the work to say anything other than
asking for directions and giving them respectively. It was already well
past nine when Dean put the last box on the stack lining one wall of
his bedroom to-be.
“Caelan?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s it for today! Fancy a beer?”
“Only if I don’t have to carry it up those sodding stairs first.”
Poking his head around the door, Caelan gave Dean a grateful smile
along with a sudden weak feeling in the knees that had absolutely
nothing to do with the strain of an afternoon spent carrying heavy
items up two floors. Sweaty, flushed and dishevelled, Caelan looked
quite plainly adorable. He’d shed his sweater somewhere along the
way and the plain black T-shirt he wore underneath was at just the
right state of crumpled to make him being a little short of breath
credible.
“In fact, you already did. Remember that cool box early on?”
“Oh that. Right.”
Watching him approach, Dean noticed that his assumption about
the shape of Caelan’s body had been right. What the T-shirt revealed
of his forearms was lean but nicely sculpted muscles that flexed
visibly underneath smooth, pale skin. A tattoo decorated the inside of
his right arm from the wrist to just below the elbow. It was obviously
a word, but the angle at which Caelan held his arm prevented Dean
from figuring out what it spelled. There was more ink on him. Black
lines peeked out curiously from underneath the hem of his T-shirt on
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
13
his upper left arm and the side of his neck. So apparently he was well
acquainted with the studio in the basement.
“Here you are.” He handed Caelan a fortunately still well-chilled
bottle, realising only too late that he’d already taken the cap off. Did
you do that for a stranger? A stranger who had just spent the best part
of a Friday night helping him carry his belongings up two floors, he
reminded himself.
“Cheers.” Taking the bottle with an appreciative sigh, Caelan
raised it to his lips and took a few deep gulps. Dean followed the
movements of his jaw and throat for a few moments before he averted
his gaze guiltily and said, “Hey, um, thank you for your help. I
appreciate it. A lot.”
“No problem. It’s not as though I had any other plans,” Caelan
said lightly and took another swig.
“Not? On a Friday night? That’s a bit of a surprise. I’d have
expected someone like you to be at least double booked.” Quit the
flirting, man, Dean told himself firmly. You’re just gonna chase him
away, and he’s by far the most interesting guy you’ve seen in months.
Or rather years, if you counted only the real-life encounters.
Caelan pulled a face as if he’d suddenly realised that he had a
toothache. “Let’s just say I had an unexpected vacancy,” he replied
evasively, but his voice gave him away. The sudden tone of gloom
woke Dean’s inquisitiveness. Well, some might call it nosiness.
“Did your girlfriend cancel on you at the last minute?” he asked
compassionately, unwilling to drop the matter just yet.
“No.” Staring at the label on his beer bottle, Caelan took a breath.
“Well, kind of. I got dumped. It wasn’t exactly last minute, but I
didn’t get round to making other plans yet. Besides, I have to work
tomorrow, so I’m not really up for a wild night out around town
anyway.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.” Caelan sighed and rubbed his neck tiredly. “I guess I
had it coming.”
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Sage Marlowe
Dean took a sip of his beer before he said, “That sounds rather
ominous. You had it coming? As in it was your fault?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is. And it’s not usually just one party’s fault either.
Unless of course someone screwed around, in which case it is quite
simple. At least that’s what I think.”
Noticing Caelan’s wince, Dean had a pretty good idea of what had
happened. Too bad that the pretty ones were rarely the faithful kind.
Keeping his voice carefully void of accusations he asked, “You
did screw around, didn’t you?”
“Um, no, actually.” Caelan swallowed tightly then cleared his
throat. “The problem was that I no longer wanted to put up with my
boyfriend fucking everything that has a dick and two legs, and when I
told him that, he said if I had a problem with him seeing other guys
then for him that only meant that he should stop seeing me.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry. Really.” Staring at Caelan, Dean took in the
lowered head and downcast expression. There had clearly been
serious feelings, at least on Caelan’s side. He wondered if a
comforting hug would be appreciated, while at the same time he felt
guilty for wanting to whoop. So his attractive new neighbour was not
only gay and available, but he also did value fidelity in a relationship.
This was like winning the lottery. And all that on the first day of his
new life.
“Shocked?” Caelan smiled uncertainly.
“Huh?”
“That I’m queer.”
“Oh that. No. No, not at all. I was just, uh, wondering.”
“‘Bout what?”
“How any guy could be so stupid as to let you go,” Dean blurted
out without thinking. A frown crossed Caelan’s face and he stared at
Dean for a long moment. “Well, I guess my…ex doesn’t exactly
consider his decision stupid. I suppose for him I’d just become a
liability he had to get rid of in time.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
15
“I’m sorry. When…did it happen?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Want another beer and talk about it?”
Caelan shrugged. “I won’t say no to the beer, but I’m afraid there
isn’t much to talk about, really.”
Handing him a fresh bottle, Dean watched him closely. Caelan's
mouth was set in a thin line, his shoulders were hunched and his
forehead in wrinkles.
“There’s always something to talk about. How long’ve you guys
been together for?”
“Two years,” Caelan answered unwillingly as he clanked his
bottle to Dean’s.
“Two years? There’s definitely got to be something to talk about
after two years.”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Anything you’re happy to tell. The night is young and I haven’t
got any plans—other than to order us two indecently large pizzas
before my attention is entirely yours to catch. What would you like?”
“You’ve only just moved in and already have the pizza delivery
sorted out?” Caelan smirked.
“Sure. You have to know what’s on offer where you are, don’t
you? So what shall it be?”
“Um, mushrooms, pineapple, ham, please.”
“Okay, hold the thought. I’ll just be a sec.”
Dean made his phone call in the adjoining room, occasionally
catching a glimpse of Caelan who busied himself walking up and
down the length of the room in a good impression of a caged tiger.
Amazing that he still had energy to burn off after the day he’d had. He
had mellowed a bit by the time Dean returned, and although he still
looked sad, the anger had gone.
“Sit down,” Dean said softly. “I don’t want you wearing out the
floor on my first night here.”
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Sage Marlowe
Ogling the sofa sceptically, Caelan did as he was told and
stretched his legs. Dean sank into the plush fabric next to him. “So
what happened?”
“What I just said basically.”
“That’s…nasty. Do you still love him?”
Caelan rolled his eyes and sat upright, chuckling mirthlessly.
“You’re not scared of going straight for the big questions, are you?”
Dean shrugged. “Why should I be? Once you’ve got the most
painful part out and over with, it only gets easier.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“So?”
Caelan took a breath. “It still hurts so apparently I still have at
least some feelings for the bastard, but I don’t think it’s love.”
“Hmm. Did you ever?”
“Love him? I used to believe I did but now I’m not so sure
anymore.”
“What was he—uh, what’s his name?—like?”
“Craig. He’s the kind of guy who can make you believe that the
world revolves around you—until he moves on to the next one, which
as I found out, rarely takes him longer than a few weeks. If that.”
“Although he was seeing you?”
“Yep. We didn’t live together so it took me a while to realise that
he was two-timing me. The first time I caught him at it he at least still
had the grace to apologise and pretend to be sorry. After that he made
a bit of an effort to hide it for a while, but then eventually he became
more and more careless about it until two weeks ago when I walked in
on him fucking some brain-dead twink he met at work.” He drained
his bottle and started picking at its label with shaky fingers. “I told
him I wouldn’t put up with it any longer, and he just said, fine, don’t.
And…” He winced. “And some other stuff which wasn’t particularly
nice.”
Dropping his reserve, Dean shifted closer and put an arm around
Caelan who promptly went stiff with surprise but settled into the
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
17
embrace after a moment or two. “Shh, it’s okay,” Dean said softly.
“You fell for the wrong guy, that’s all. Happens to all of us. I’ll spare
you the clever comments on how it’s better this way, and that you’ll
find someone who deserves you, and blabla, okay? Although if you
want to hear them I’ll make them anyway of course,” he added,
succeeding in drawing a weak smile from Caelan.
“It’s okay,” Caelan whispered hoarsely. “I know all that and I
think that I’m just one or two crying fits away from actually believing
it.”
“See? That’s good then. Do you want me to leave you alone for a
bit so you can have one now?”
“Nn-nn. Definitely not. Crying always makes my eyes go all puffy
and I end up looking like an extra from a horror movie.”
“I don’t think so.” Dean didn’t even realise he was stroking
Caelan’s hair until he became aware of its different feel under his
fingers. Caelan had nice hair. A shade of glossy wheat-blond, short-
cropped at the sides and the back of his head and just long enough on
top to have something to hold on to when he was on his knees and…
Dean pushed the image aside. Glossy hair. Soft. It wasn’t exactly
silky but the gel Caelan used didn’t harden it into scratchy, little
spikes the way Phil’s had. Dean pushed that thought even further
aside. Thick hair. Caelan didn’t have to worry about going bald. Grey
maybe, but he’d probably still have the same lush mop at eighty and
the grey wouldn’t be much of a problem as it wouldn’t really show
with the blond anyway.
“You’re way too cute to be in a horror movie, unless of course
you were cast as the gorgeous blond who gets slaughtered in the
beginning.”
Looking up from underneath his eyelashes, Caelan smiled
doubtfully. “Uh, thanks. Isn’t that usually a girl though?”
“Don’t know, maybe, but definitely a blond,” Dean answered. So
he had really said that out loud. Oops. Well, Caelan hadn’t run away
18
Sage Marlowe
screaming yet so obviously he didn’t mind the blunt flattery too
much.
“What, uh, what was the story with you guys?” Caelan asked
quietly, relaxing further under Dean’s touch.
“How do you know I was with a guy?”
The look Caelan gave him was full of mocking amusement.
“Hmm, where should I start? For instance, I’ve got a bunch of straight
male friends and none of them would pet each other’s hair, at least not
the way you just did mine, let alone that of a guy who they know is
gay and have met only a few hours ago. Also, I might not have been
dating for a while, but I still notice when I’m being checked out.”
“Oh, sorry. And there was me thinking I was being moderately
subtle about it.”
“Uh, yes.” Caelan grinned. “About as subtle as a stripper in a
monastery.”
Dean let out a chuckle. Caelan’s sense of humour was catching.
“Sorry,” he repeated, but Caelan shrugged it off.
“It’s okay. Quite nice actually to know that at least someone
thinks I’m worth checking out. Not to mention calling me cute. I
haven’t heard that in a while.”
“Not? Gosh, the guy you’ve been with isn’t only stupid, he must
be blind, too. You’re by far the most beautiful guy I’ve— Uh, um,
well…” Feeling a blush creep up in his cheeks that could have heated
the city on a winter night, Dean fell silent. Yes, he was single. Yes, he
was free to flirt with anyone he fancied. But, he’d left his ex’s house
only this morning, and if there was one thing he didn’t want to come
across as it was desperate. Although maybe he was.
There hadn’t been much physical affection in the past months of
their relationship. There hadn’t been much of it in the years before
either and now that he thought of it, overall not as much affection as
he’d once believed there to be. Now that he no longer subjected
himself to what his own expectations of a relationship dictated, he
could no longer deny the craving that vibrated inside him. The need
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
19
pulsing in those parts of his body which had been neglected for too
long. But it wasn’t just starvation that drew him to Caelan. To a
certain extent, perhaps, but he was fairly convinced that Caelan’s
immense physical presence would never fail to excite him. Not even
if he could have him every day, not even after six years.
Caelan’s nearness was taunting him. His youth, agility, his energy,
and natural cheerfulness were alluring. It reminded Dean of
everything he’d been denied for too long. Everything he had denied
himself for too long. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be
like to kiss Caelan, take him to bed even. How would it feel to share
this unique intimacy with someone else, for the first time exploring a
new, different lover, after six years of the same old routine? He
wondered what it would be like to touch Caelan, watch those
beautiful eyes close in the moment of ultimate pleasure, feel the
power of those strong muscles unleashed when Caelan let go and lost
control. He couldn’t bring himself to look up and meet Caelan’s eyes
even though he could almost feel the cool grey-green gaze on the
back of his head. It had definitely been too long.
“I don’t—” Caelan started hesitantly, but whatever he was about
to say got cut off by the doorbell.
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Sage Marlowe
Chapter 2
“Dinner!” Dean jumped up, torn between relief at being saved
from an embarrassing situation and irritation because he really would
have liked to hear what Caelan had to say to that. Or maybe he didn’t.
I don’t wasn’t exactly the most hope-inspiring way to begin a
sentence and certainly not something one would like to hear in
connection with the thoughts that were running wild in Dean’s mind.
He tipped the delivery boy rather generously in the hope that the
pizza was good enough to make him want to call the service again and
took the boxes through to the living room.
“Hmm, this looks like pineapple, so it must be yours.” He handed
Caelan one box along with another bottle of beer he’d picked up on
the way.
“Good job I haven’t got a long way home.” Winking, Caelan
raised his bottle to Dean’s, took a swig, and put it on the table to open
his pizza box.
“Mmh,” he sighed appreciatively. “Smells delicious. I hadn’t even
realised I was hungry.” Right on cue, his stomach let out an angry
rumble and they both laughed.
“Maybe I should have thought of feeding you a bit earlier,” Dean
grinned. “You’ve got to be starved with all the hard work you put in
today.” He was definitely beginning to feel light-headed with hunger.
Or maybe that was just Caelan’s presence, something Dean was
increasingly aware of as he watched him chew his mouthful of pizza
and swallow before answering, “That’s okay. It wasn’t all that much.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
21
“You think? I thought it was quite a lot to be honest and I
definitely feel it. You’ve got to be quite fit if you don’t— Well,
actually, you do seem to be quite fit.”
“Yeah, well, I do some special exercises for my back to make up
for the strain my work puts on it,” Caelan sounded charmingly self-
conscious, and Dean just couldn’t resist winding him up.
“Uh-huh. And the fact that it makes you look quite appealing has
nothing to do with you working out, right?”
Caelan grinned. “Having an overall well-developed muscle tone is
a nice side effect, but the main reason is that I just don’t want to end
up as an invalid by the time I’m thirty.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Oh. Seems to be a tough job you’ve got there. What do you do?”
“I’m a tattoo artist. And professional body piercer.”
“Oh. Wow. So that studio in the basement…?”
“Is mine, yes.”
“Yours? It actually belongs to you?”
“Mm-hmm.” Nodding cheerfully, Caelan swallowed another bite
of food. “Opened up three years ago.”
“Is business going well?”
“I’m doing fairly okay, I think. I’ve been having a guest artist
come in a couple of hours a week to support me for a few months
now, so I get to close at a reasonable hour most of the time and can
even take a day off besides Sundays.”
“Sounds like a lot of work,” Dean observed.
“Well, it is.” Caelan shrugged. “But it’s what I love doing and
living in the same building saves me the commute, so I’m not off
worse time-wise than your average employee. Plus, I get to be my
own boss which is just great. Most of the time, that is.”
“Why’s that? Aren’t you a good boss?” Dean shot him a wink.
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Sage Marlowe
“Not when I’m making myself do paper stuff, like taxes. I really
hate that but it can’t be helped. Still, I wish I could make someone
else do it.”
“Why don’t you have someone do it for you?”
Taking another slice of pizza, Caelan shook his head. “You see,
the thing is I can do it, so as long as my rate per hour is lower than
that of a professional tax accountant, I’m better off doing it myself.”
“Hmm, makes sense. Although having a professional look into it
might save you money. But more importantly, this means you’re
creative and clever. That’s a nice combination.”
Caelan actually blushed a little. “Uh, thank you.”
“There’s one thing I can’t help wonder about though,” Dean
added, chewing thoughtfully.
“What’s that?”
“Seeing as you’re someone who makes a living putting ink and
chunks of metal into other people’s skin, I wonder what, uh,
decoration you have yourself.” So far he’d counted the one tattoo on
Caelan’s forearm, the bits above his elbow and on his neck, and three
silver studs in his earlobes. Anything else that might be there wasn’t
visible when he wore jeans and a T-shirt, but well, clothes did conceal
a lot.
“You’d be surprised.” Caelan grinned and took another swig from
his bottle.
“Care to tell me?”
“About all of them?”
“Why not? Are there so many?”
“Well…yes.”
“How many?”
“How many? Tattoos or piercings?”
“Either.”
“Uh, let’s see…” Wrinkling his forehead thoughtfully, Caelan
stared at the ceiling. “Quite a few, I keep forgetting ’cause there are
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
23
several that I can’t see.” He chuckled and added, “You can count
them if you like.”
Count them? Now that sounded very promising. Dean decided to
accept the challenge—if it was one at all. “Well, that’s an offer I’m
not going to say no to.”
Caelan’s eyes widened and he gaped at Dean, dazed. “That’s, uh,
not what I meant.”
Dean held Caelan’s gaze with his own, faintly aware of his heart
hammering in his chest as he forced himself to remain calm. For a
moment, when he’d believed Caelan to be serious, he’d been tempted.
Very much so. And why shouldn’t they, there was nothing wrong
with it. They were both single, both free to chase away the demons of
the past and seek oblivion in the arms of a new lover. But it wasn’t
that easy and Caelan wasn’t easy to figure out. He responded well to
compliments and mild flirting but became jumpy when pushed too
fast. “What do you think I meant?”
“Huh? I, uh… Well, you…” Caelan broke off, confused into
silence. Poor thing. With his rock-star good looks he could have any
guy on his knees, begging for a chance with him, and yet his self-
esteem was in shatters.
“Caelan,” Dean said softly. “I’d just like to see your tattoos. Show
me whatever you’re comfortable showing, and if you don’t want to
show me anything at all, I’m happy for you to just tell me.”
Looking indecisive at first, Caelan’s natural cheeriness soon won
out and a crooked smile appeared on his face. “I will. Later. But first I
think it’s time you told me a bit about yourself. You don’t believe I
didn’t realise that you’ve never answered my question, do you?”
“Oh, right. The one about what happened to my relationship.”
“The one.” Caelan put his pizza box aside and half-turned to face
Dean, pulling his leg up underneath him.
Dean took a deep breath, then a swig of his beer and another deep
breath. “Well, where should I start?
“Hmm, how about right at the beginning?”
24
Sage Marlowe
“Caelan, we spent six years together. That might take some time.”
“So? The night’s still young and we have nowhere else to go—
apart from maybe to the kitchen to get more beer.”
“Your turn to fetch it.”
“Fine with me. I’ll get the beer while you get yourself in the mood
to talk.” Caelan got up smoothly and returned moments later with two
fresh bottles. “Shoot.”
“Okay. His name’s Phil and—”
“Phil,” Caelan echoed with a sneer. “Phil. Gosh, what a name.
What is he, an accountant?”
“Easy, you. I am an accountant. We met at work in fact.”
“No kidding. You, an accountant? You don’t look like one.”
“Tax accountant, to be precise.” Dean sighed, deciding to play
along. “What does an accountant look like in your opinion?”
“Well, the obvious, I guess. Suit, shirt, tie. Boring.”
“That’s what I wear for work, not for moving house,” Dean
pointed out patiently.
Caelan gasped and laughed. “Oh fuck, you’re serious, right?”
“Of course I’m serious.”
“Cute. Go on, tell me about Phil and you and your suits.”
“Only if you stop being a brat.”
“I’ll try.”
“We met at work—”
“Wearing suits?” Caelan elegantly dodged the cushion Dean
threw at him before he continued his story. “We’d been working in
the same department for almost two years before we took notice of
one another. Once we did, it all just took on a dynamic of its own. We
went out a few times, one thing led to another and eventually he
moved in with me.”
“That doesn’t sound like love at first sight.”
“I know,” Dean admitted glumly. “But it seemed just…right. We
were a good match. A perfect match. At least that’s what I thought at
the time. We shared a lot of the same interests and complemented
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
25
each other in other parts. For instance, I’ve always been headstrong
and tended to knock down walls if I wanted to get somewhere while
Phil was more the considering, careful kind.”
Caelan raised his eyebrows. “Sounds good.”
“It was in a way. I knew I could trust him. Phil would never have
cheated on me for instance. Sorry,” he added sheepishly when Caelan
pulled a face. “But eventually, during the years, I figured out that
what I thought to be steadiness was in fact just indecisiveness and the
loyalty and consistency I used to appreciate in him were born from
laziness, not reliability. In the end I felt like I was continually pulling,
trying to get us just somewhere, while all he ever did was drag his
heels or stay put altogether. It may not sound like much, or maybe I'm
being superficial, I don’t know, but I reached a point where I just
couldn’t stand it anymore. I’m only thirty-five, which to you might
sound ancient, but he made me feel ancient. I realised that I don’t
want to keep waking up with the feeling that my life is halfway over
and there’s nothing happening, nothing exciting in it, just because he
couldn’t be bothered to drag his lazy arse out of bed.”
“Was it that bad?”
“It was. I could give you a million examples, but I think what it
comes down to is that I wanted to play while he wanted to stay.”
“But at least you could trust him. That’s got to be nice,” Caelan
said quietly. “Knowing where he is when he’s not with you. Or at
least knowing where he’s not,” he added with a bitter note.
“Well, in Phil’s case it was easy to tell where he was—if he
wasn’t at work he was usually on the sofa in front of the box or in
bed, sleeping. Apart from that, he had the unerring ability to see the
worst in everything and everyone. When he got promoted, he wasn’t
glad that he earned more, he was annoyed that his responsibility was
increased and people started turning to him when they had questions.”
“You are kidding, right?” The expression on Caelan’s face was
half-amused, half-disbelieving, but definitely encouraging, and Dean
found himself talking about Phil. Openly, freely, for the first time.
26
Sage Marlowe
He’d never been able to really talk about Phil with his parents or
friends. Not with his parents, because he knew that overprotective
though they were of him, they had adored Phil and every time Dean
had said something not quite worshipping about him, their eyes had
blazed at the sacrilege.
He couldn’t discuss Phil with his friends either. Phil had never
stood a chance with them anyway and had been the laughing stock
right from the start, so every flaw Dean mentioned would only make
them look at each other in synchronised looks of I-told-you-so.
Caelan was different. After the initial flippant comments he’d made,
he listened attentively and seemingly without judging. He didn’t
interrupt either, but when Dean was losing the thread he could always
tell exactly what the last words had been. Not like Phil, who’d been
easily capable of bringing a heated discussion to an untimely end by
asking what there was for dinner, or making a remark that had
absolutely nothing to do with the topic, and was guaranteed to kill it
off if he didn’t care to hear about it. Dean had hated it. He loved
nothing better than getting to the core of things, looking at a subject
from every possible angle and scrutinizing over it. Caelan was still
paying attention after what must have been a very long and admittedly
very tiring monologue.
“I’m sorry,” Dean said eventually, feeling awkward and
exhausted. It had been nice to talk but he feared that he’d come close
to boring Caelan to death. Well, at least then Caelan had a fairly good
notion of what living with Phil had been like.
“Don’t be.”
“Your ears must be bleeding by now.”
“Nn-nn.” The smile on Caelan’s face was sweet and sincere. “I
like to listen to you talk. It’s adorable when you’re so enthusiastic,
so…passionate.”
“Not what you’d expect from an accountant, huh?”
“Not quite,” Caelan admitted with a laugh. “But actually I was
just teasing you, I hope you know that. I spend a lot of time talking to
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
27
people, and I get to hear an astonishing amount of sometimes very
personal information. I’ve learned not to judge by appearances. The
truly important things aren’t visible anyway.”
“Says the guy who spends his time decorating people’s bodies.”
Caelan joined his laughter. “Ironic, huh?”
“Maybe, but I believe I get your point.”
They sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in his
own thoughts when Dean suddenly remembered an often rejected and
almost forgotten idea. “What would you think of me—boring
accountant guy—getting a tattoo?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Because… I’m supposed to be conservative, aren’t I, and tattoos
and piercings aren’t exactly conservative, are they?”
“So what? Tattoos and body modification in general is a way to
express yourself. If it is what you want, then it’s okay even if you
were the first accountant in the history of society to have a tattoo,
which
incidentally,
you’re
not.”
Caelan
looked
at
him
sympathetically. “We are who we want to be, Dean, not what we earn
our money with. If you wanted to wear a full bodysuit under your suit,
it’d be your decision.”
“Bodysuit?”
“It’s what you call it when the entire body apart from hands, feet,
and head is covered with tattoos.”
“Ouch.”
Caelan grinned. “Not so much ouch as that it takes a fucking long
time.”
“Don’t tell me that’s what you’ve got.”
“No. I’ve got a rather big one, but— Tattoo. I’m talking about
tattoos! Stop laughing, you moron!” Despite his indignant words, he
joined Dean’s sudden burst of hysterical laughter. It seemed that even
with the large pizzas as a basis, the alcohol they’d had on top of the
physical exercise was finally taking its toll on their good manners.
“It’s good that you have no inhibitions talking about it, too.”
28
Sage Marlowe
“Very funny.” Caelan sneered, but Dean wasn’t ready to let go
just yet.
“No, seriously. Don’t your lovers feel…uh, intimidated? Or
envious, maybe?”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Really, Caelan was incredibly cute when
irritated. Even if most of his irritation was faked. There was a
giveaway glitter of mischief in his grey-green eyes and his mouth was
curled into a cute, half-suppressed grin. Dean’s throat went tight.
Should he risk it? How would Caelan react? He was fresh out of a
relationship after all, and unlike Dean, he hadn’t opted for the end.
The moment passed and their glee evaporated as suddenly as it had
turned up. This time, there was a distinct tension in the silence
between them.
“What about piercings?” Dean asked, picking the first topic he
could think of.
Caelan looked bemused at the question. It was obviously not what
he’d expected. “What about them?”
“Do you have any?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Depends on where you get it,” Caelan said vaguely. “There are
some that you barely even feel going in while others hurt like fuck.”
“What about yours?”
Grinning, Caelan answered, “I’ve got some of either sort. The
ones in the ears did not hurt.”
Dean stared at him blankly. “Why do people put up with that?”
Caelan shrugged, and his grin grew naughty. “Sometimes the ones
that hurt the most in the beginning are the ones you can have the most
fun with later on.”
“Fun? What is that supposed to mean?”
“There are some piercings that can create quite a lot of pleasure if
used for sexual stimulation.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
29
“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Dean let out a groan but it wasn’t
all revulsion. The thought had something strangely exciting. He knew
about toys, had even used some—though not with Phil, the idea alone
was enough to make anyone who knew Phil laugh—but having a hole
punched into you just for the purpose of sexual joy? That
sounded…devious. In an arousing way.
“Not at all,” Caelan said levelly.
“That sounds like you have some personal experience with that.”
Would it be too impudent to ask Caelan if he wore some of those
piercings?
Caelan didn’t seem to mind the question. “I do.”
“Have you…?”
“Craig’s got an apadravya.”
“Gesundheit,” Dean deadpanned. “Seriously, a what?”
“An apadravya,” Caelan repeated with a smirk.
“I hear you speak and yet I have no idea what you’re saying.”
Still grinning, Caelan playfully tilted his head to the side. “Do you
know what a Prince Albert piercing is?
Dean sucked in a breath. “Isn’t that…?”
“The one that goes right through the head of your dick, yes.”
“Ouch. Thanks for putting that picture into my brain. You’re not
one for euphemisms, are you?”
Caelan shrugged. “It is what it is. Using flowery language to
describe it doesn’t make it any better. Besides, I did not say that it
goes through the glans, from top to bottom, usually centred and
passing right through the urethra, did I?”
“No, fortunately you didn’t say that. At least not the first time.
Eouw!”
“I’ve been taught that if you can do it, you can talk about it,”
Caelan said coolly, ignoring the face of discomfort Dean pulled.
“Really, why would anyone want that?”
“Well, why does anyone want any piercing at all? I guess you just
have to like it. As to this one in particular, it’s often called a
30
Sage Marlowe
happydravya and if you ever get fucked by a guy who has such a
piercing you’ll know why. That’s one of the reasons.”
“It’s good for your sex partner? Really? Can you feel that?”
A lascivious smile spread across Caelan’s face. “Rubs you right
where it counts. The size of the ball and the correct positioning play a
role of course, but it feels…pretty amazing.”
“I guess I don’t need to ask if his was positioned right, do I?”
“Oh, it was.” Caelan nodded. “It was. It’s not just good for the
partner though, it’s also highly stimulative for the bearer himself.”
“And highly painful, I should imagine,” Dean grumbled.
“No pain, no gain.” Caelan winked cheerfully and Dean stared at
him. “Don’t tell me you…?”
Caelan grinned that playful smirk of his again. “What do you
think? I’ve got to know what I’m talking about, don’t I?”
“Oh my. Well, I had to ask. Did you…did you know he had
that…thing when you started going out with him?” Imagine taking
someone to bed and discovering that. Dean shuddered.
A shadow crossed Caelan’s face as he explained, “It’s how we
met, Craig and I, I mean. He came in and wanted a piercing. We
started talking as I pierced him, he invited me to dinner, we talked
some more and, well, the rest is history. And now we are history,” he
added glumly.
“You did that? You definitely earn your money the hard way,”
Dean observed. “You put such a thing into him and he took you out to
dinner anyway? And even went out with you for two years
afterwards? You must have left quite an impression.”
“More a hole, actually.”
“Ouch.” Dean groaned. “Is that why you went out with him?
Because you knew the sex would be good?”
“Nn-nn.” Caelan shook his head. “I went out with him ’cause…
Oh, I don’t know, actually. It wasn’t as though I’d fallen head over
heels in love with him. He was hot, I was curious. I’d just put a piece
of metal into his dick and he still was interested in me. I guess I did
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
31
feel a bit sorry for him. He was pretty uncomfortable throughout the
evening. In fact, I’ve been wondering the same thing those past two
weeks, but more than that, I’ve been wondering why he picked me. I
mean, why was he going out with me at all?”
“Oh, Caelan. Isn’t that obvious?”
Caelan frowned. “Obvious? Why?”
“You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine,” Dean teased.
Caelan looked indecisive for a moment, then he sighed and
explained, “You see, a piercing like that puts you out of service for at
least two weeks. Plus it hurts like fuck. My guess is that he took me
out just so I would keep him from thinking about it and since he
couldn’t fuck me, he had to actually talk to me. That first time as well
as for another three weeks. I didn’t realise that what I believed to be a
promising start for a relationship—get to know each other and
become friends first, lovers later—was in truth just a friends-with-
benefits scenario. And we never really were best friends. Not even
reasonably good ones, now that I’m thinking about it. Your turn.”
“Why I think he went out with you? Quite simply because you’re
beautiful, clever, funny, cute, and, oh, just a very gorgeous package
altogether.
A multitude of emotions battled each other on Caelan’s face.
Confusion won, nervousness was a close second. He stared at
something behind Dean’s left shoulder. He dropped his gaze to the
floor, sighed, looked up again, and stared at Dean. Finally he met
Dean’s eyes and the message in his grey-green gaze was clear.
32
Sage Marlowe
Chapter 3
They both knew that it was going to happen, that it had just
become entirely unavoidable and yet, in that sweet moment of
anticipation right before their first ever kiss, Caelan looked scared and
vulnerable. Slowly raising his hand, Dean cupped the side of his face
and pulled him close for a first, tentative brush of lips. Caelan let out
a soft moan and when Dean looked at him through his lashes, his eyes
were closed. A tiny frown line wrinkled the skin between his
eyebrows but the anxiousness had gone.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Dean whispered, still close enough
to feel Caelan’s breath on his skin, and then he tightened his grip and
leaned in again.
He touched Caelan’s lips with his own, gently parted them with
his tongue and dipped into the sweet warmth of that tempting mouth.
His groin started to tingle at Caelan’s shy and somewhat contradictory
responses of tilting his body forward to intensify the contact while his
mouth remained passive, allowing Dean to explore him. Caelan tasted
nice, in spite of beer and pizza, which Dean knew made up most of
his own taste, too.
Caelan’s hands came up, blindly searching for something to hold
on to. They found Dean’s chest, and after a brief moment of
hesitation, Caelan stroked and touched him back just as his tongue
became more involved in the kiss. He moaned again, more urgent this
time and his fingers sneaked underneath Dean’s jumper, hesitated at
the waistband of his jeans then determinedly untucked his T-shirt to
get at the bare skin underneath. Dean sighed. This was nice. Caelan
had lovely hands, as he had noticed before. Long, sensual but strong
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
33
fingers that skilfully explored his body, roaming in the confined space
to reach every part of him they could get at. And Caelan seemingly
was determined to get at every part of him.
Tugging and pushing, he freed Dean of his T-shirt and sweater,
breaking the kiss just for the second it took to pull both over Dean’s
head before he latched back onto his mouth with unconcealed greed.
His hands were back again, touching, caressing, exploring. They
found a nipple, squeezed it cautiously, then harder until Dean winced.
The same with the other one. Caelan was testing his reactions,
carefully mapping his body to find out what he liked. It was sweet. It
wasn’t what a guy did just to bring another off, not these gentle,
cherishing touches that had Dean quiver and turn to pudding in
Caelan’s hands.
Far sooner than he’d expected, he longed to feel those hands
lower, needed to feel those strong fingers wrapped around his rapidly
filling dick. Reading his mind, Caelan undid the buttons on his fly and
touched Dean’s hard length. Dean groaned. “Yes, baby,” he panted
and pushed into the touch eagerly. He felt Caelan smile against his
lips as he carefully pulled out Dean’s cock, fortunately not bothering
with platitudes anymore. He curled his fingers around Dean’s shaft
and stroked down and back up and…
“Oh, fuck, yes!” Dean moaned, but resisted the urge to thrust into
Caelan’s hand in favour of simply enjoying what his lover treated him
to until it was time to return the attentions. He undid Caelan’s fly and
Caelan’s handsome cock leapt at him, clearly happy to be released.
Dean welcomed it with a gentle squeeze around the head. He
tightened it until Caelan sucked in a breath and tilted his hips
forwards. No point denying, they were both horny and ready for it.
There was a short moment of confusion as they tried to sort out
how to do it without breaking the kiss, but Dean solved it by simply
pushing Caelan back on the sofa and climbing on top of him. It wasn’t
even so much a decision as what his instincts told him, and the way
Caelan sank back willingly and spread his legs had him believe that
34
Sage Marlowe
they were probably even better compatible than he had hoped for.
How perfect could things get? Caelan arched his back, urging him on
and…
“Shit!” Dean groaned. “I, uh, I haven’t got any condoms, I’m
afraid.”
Caelan sounded faintly amused as he whispered, “Shh, it’s okay.
I’ve got some.”
“Sorry, I haven’t needed one in a long time.”
“I haven’t stopped needing one,” Caelan said grimly as he reached
down and pulled two foil packages from the pocket of his discarded
jeans. “Never wanted to take the risk, certainly not with me bottoming
most of the time.” He frowned as he held the condom and lube out to
Dean. “You still know how to use them though, right?”
“Oh, I believe I do.” Leaning forwards, Dean kissed the frown
away and took the lube from Caelan’s hand. He ripped it open,
gathered some on his fingertip and gently massaged it into that tight
little opening to Caelan’s body, feeling the muscles relax under his
caresses.
“How’s that?” he teased quietly when Caelan’s breath started
coming in fast, irregular gasps.
“It’s… Oh, uh, oh yes… Um, you certainly know how to use that.
I was…oh, unghh…talking about the condom though.”
“Hmm. I think I should be all right with that, too, but if you want
to make sure I got it right, you can put it on me.”
A lascivious smile appeared on Caelan’s face. “You know what? I
think I’ll do just that.”
He picked up the condom he’d dropped at some point, tore the foil
open and reached for Dean’s cock. Gentle though he was, Dean
couldn’t help flinching a little as Caelan aimed the condom at him.
“You do know how to do that, right?”
Caelan grinned cheekily. “Hey, I’m a guy, gay, and a body
piercer. I get to handle quite a lot of dicks on a regular basis, so don’t
worry. Yours is entirely safe with me.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
35
“Yeah, all right. Just don’t get me confused with one of your
customers and stick a needle into it, okay?”
“Ah, no, I wouldn’t do that to that pretty cock of yours.”
“No? Why not? Is there anything, uh, wrong with it?”
“Not at all. It’s beautiful.”
“I mean something why you couldn’t put a piercing into it,” Dean
clarified. Not that he wanted one, but it didn’t hurt to know. Caelan’s
eyes flicked south for a quick assessment. “Um, professionally
speaking it’s just fine. I don’t think there’s any piercing I could not
put into it, although I’d have to check with decent lighting to be able
to tell that for certain.” He smirked when Dean pulled a troubled
grimace.
“But the reason I wouldn’t pierce you is that I still have plans for
your pretty dick, but if there was a fresh piercing in it we wouldn’t be
allowed to do that.”
He rolled the condom on with a smile and well-practiced ease and
lay back again. “Come on then, cowboy. Take me for a ride I won’t
forget.”
Dean stared at him for a moment then burst out laughing. “Do you
know how fucking corny that just sounded?”
Grinning up at him, Caelan nodded. “I do. Helps with the nerves
though.”
“I guess you have a point there.”
Getting started wasn’t quite as easy as they’d expected however,
as the sofa turned out to be too narrow for Caelan to lie on his back.
After a few moments of awkward twisting and turning, he ended up in
a rather bizarre position half on his side with one leg hooked over the
back of the sofa, but the unusual angle seemed to be highly
pleasurable for him. After a short warm-up phase, Dean took him for
a ride he was fairly certain neither of them would forget for a while.
Far sooner and with a lot less effort from his side than Dean had
expected, Caelan went tense underneath him and held him back with
one hand against his chest. “Easy, or… Uh, gonna come,” he panted.
36
Sage Marlowe
“Just from that?”
“Hmm-hmm.” Gripping his bottom lip between his teeth, Caelan
looked charmingly distressed. The effort it took him to keep himself
in check was plain to see on his face. Dean froze mid-thrust, giving
Caelan the time to regain his self-control while seizing the moment to
watch his lover. He’d seen Caelan sweaty and flushed before, but
arousal had added a delightful glow to his features. Stretching up to
reach him, Dean kissed him tenderly. “Don’t hold back on my
account. I’m more than happy to go myself.”
The thought clearly appealed to Caelan who pushed back as well
as his awkward position allowed him to do. Dean gladly accepted the
invitation and was just about to give Caelan’s so far mostly neglected
cock some attention when Caelan let out an adorable little cry and
shuddered underneath him. Right at the point between going on and
letting go, Dean chose the latter and followed Caelan over the edge,
welcoming the fireworks that went off in his groin and shot up his
spine to explode in his brain.
They remained lying there for a moment to catch their breath,
arms and legs hopelessly entangled in their twisted position, enjoying
the moment of sweet exhaustion and fulfilment.
“Can you, uh, get off me please?” Caelan mumbled into the sofa
cushion. “Only I think I’m developing a crick in my neck.”
“Oh, sorry.” Dean would have liked to lie down for a proper
cuddle, but their position made that impossible, so he settled for
another kiss before he sat back and took care of the condom. Caelan
sat up, too. He looked softer after his orgasm, less overwrought, and
just a little dazed.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked softly.
“Mm-hmm.” Sighing, Caelan rubbed his forehead and ran his
fingers through his hair which didn’t do anything to make it less
tousled.
“You’re pretty easy to please.” Dean grinned. “I can’t even
remember being with a guy who could come just from getting
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
37
fucked.” Certainly not Phil who had never made a secret of the fact
that bottoming was something he only put up with as a favour to
Dean.
A cute, slightly embarrassed smile tugged at Caelan’s eyes. “Well,
yeah. I am easy that way, but that doesn’t mean my dick doesn’t enjoy
getting some attention, too.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“No.” Some of the earlier mischief sparked up in Caelan’s smile.
“Just a piece of personal information about me I think you ought to
have.”
Easily picking up on the teasing pitch in Caelan’s voice, Dean put
on a mock thoughtful expression. “Hmm. That’s what you think? And
what do you think I need this piece of information for?”
“Oh, just for future reference. In case anything comes up that
requires, uh, your attention.” His eyes flicked downward briefly and
Dean grinned at the innuendo. Clearly they weren’t done with each
other yet.
“I can be very attentive, you know.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Is there anything in particular you want me to attend to?”
“Oh, there certainly is. But not here.”
“Not?”
“No. Your sofa is murder on my back and I’d much rather be able
to move around a bit more.”
“Hmm. I think I know what you mean, but unless you’re willing
to assemble my bed first I’m afraid the best I can offer you is a
mattress on the floor.”
“Ah, no thanks.” Caelan shook his head. “Definitely no mattress
on the floor for me. How about we go downstairs to my place? Take a
shower and sleep in a decent bed. I’ve got a waterbed,” he said with a
wink. “How does that sound to you?”
“Mmh, a shower sounds very tempting and a bed with you in it
even more so. I wasn’t thinking about sleeping much though.”
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Caelan smiled mischievously. “Neither was I. Not until after
you’ve bestowed some more attention upon me, that is.”
* * * *
They didn’t bother getting dressed properly, just put on what was
necessary to be decent enough to sneak down a flight of stairs late at
night. Caelan wore his jeans and the T-shirt he’d never managed to
take off in the first place. Dean had slipped into a pair of clean, loose-
fitting cargo trousers and a long-sleeved T-shirt, as he was in need of
a change of clothes anyway.
Caelan’s flat had the same layout, although of course it lacked the
charming chaos of the bomb site Dean’s currently displayed. There
wasn’t much time to make out many details as Caelan simply grabbed
Dean’s hand and pulled him through to the bathroom, shedding his
clothes along the way. Once inside the shower, Dean took the
opportunity the bright lights offered to make out as many details of
Caelan’s body as he could. Having already checked him for the
answer to the most important question—there was no piece of metal
in Caelan’s cock or any other area of his private parts—he approached
the rest of the task ahead with a little more serenity.
Apart from the three piercings in his ears, Caelan had only one
more, a small silver stud in his left nipple. Dean toyed with it briefly
and, discovering that Caelan responded very well to this, decided to
save it for a thorough inspection at a later time. Instead he moved on
to take stock of Caelan’s tattoos, which were far more plentiful than
the piercings. No wonder Caelan had trouble remembering the exact
number of what he had. The word on his right forearm was just the
beginning. His entire upper left arm as well as his shoulder and back
was covered by an intricately designed, abstract pattern that narrowed
into barely more than a fine line in the same pattern which crossed the
ridges of his rib cage downwards to spread out again, decorating the
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
39
area from his hip to the top of his thigh and from right next to his
cock over the most part of his buttock.
“Wow,” Dean whispered, impressed. “That must have hurt.”
“Only parts of it,” Caelan smirked.
“Really?” Dean eyed the black ink lines doubtfully.
“Yes. Every time a session started mostly.”
“Every time? Didn’t you get it done in one go?”
Caelan stared at him for a moment then chuckled. “No. No, you
can’t get something that size done in one session. Firstly, because it
simply takes too long and secondly, because, well, it just hurts too
much.”
“So how long did it take?”
“Mmm. Let me think… I think five sessions with three to four
hours each over a period of two months.”
“Oh dear. That is long. How long does something like this take?”
He traced the shape of a serpent coiling above Caelan’s right hip
bone.
“That one? Uh, about three hours, maybe four depending on the
degree of shading you want and whether it’s all black or coloured.
Colours take a lot longer and tend to be more painful.”
“Is that why yours are all black?”
“Ah, no.” Caelan smiled. “I just prefer it that way. I’m a bit of a
minimalist when it comes to that.”
“I suppose you had yours all done by someone else, right?”
“Almost all of them. This is one I did myself. Oh, and the one on
my arm of course.” Twisting a little, Caelan showed his right thigh to
present the dragon climbing up the front of it. Obviously having
noticed it before as it was impossible not to, Dean hadn’t yet had the
chance to examine it further. Now that he did, he saw that it was more
detailed than he had thought at first and in fact looked very realistic—
or as realistic as a miniature winged dragon that breathed fire while
clawing its way up a shapely thigh could.
“It’s impressive. Did you really tattoo yourself?”
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“Sure.”
“Did you design this one, too?”
Smiling proudly, Caelan nodded. “Yep. Well, I based it on a
sketch I found in a magazine but did my own thing with the details.
Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was serious when I said I was thinking about getting a
tattoo myself,” Dean reminded a little uneasily.
“Cool. Any ideas what you want yet?” Leaning back, Caelan held
his head under the shower to wet his hair.
“Let me.” Dean took the shampoo bottle from him and squirted
some of the scented gel on his palm. “Not really. Maybe something
abstract, like that pattern you’ve got. Just not quite as big. And it
obviously can’t show when I’m wearing a shirt.”
“Okay,” Caelan said, musing. The creative process that started in
his brain was plain to see on his face. “Any particular elements you
want included or are you open to anything?”
“Um, I don’t fancy having a skull or a naked woman on my skin,
but apart from that, I’m fairly open-minded. Turn around now so I can
wash your hair.”
Caelan closed his eyes in silent appreciation for a moment then,
suddenly sounding very enthusiastic, he asked, “Want me to design
something for you?”
“Would you?” Gently pushing Caelan back under the jet of water,
Dean ran his fingers through the silky strands of hair that looked like
spun gold now that they were wet. He carefully rinsed the last traces
of foam from it then coaxed it into a style close to the way Caelan
usually wore it.
“Sure. In fact I think I’ve already got an idea for something that
would suit you.”
“Do you? What?”
Turning around, Caelan smiled apologetically and shook his head.
“Ah, no, sorry. Gotta mull it over a bit.”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
41
“Okay. Do you think you can mull while I suck your dick?” Dean
asked politely as he sank to his knees, observing delightedly how the
smile froze on Caelan’s face and his breath hitched.
“Uh, not sure. It might be worth a try though,” Caelan answered
huskily, already flexing his hips to meet Dean’s mouth.
By the time they were finished with each other, Dean was fairly
certain that Caelan hadn’t gotten to do much mulling seeing as he’d
been too busy moaning. Caelan was quite vocal during sex, and
combined with his wonderful responsiveness, made it a delightfully
easy task for Dean to discover the ways to pleasure him. Even though
Dean hadn’t meant to match them up to each other, he couldn’t help
but notice that compared to Phil, Caelan was a lot more curious and
enthusiastic in bed. For him, foreplay was clearly more than taking
your clothes off, and he seemed just as eager to acquaint himself with
every inch of Dean’s body as Dean was exploring his.
Edging each other on again and again, they filled the time they
needed to recover with long, sensuous kisses and gentle caresses,
invariably turning the aftermath of one act into the prelude to the next
until they finally had to surrender to sheer physical exhaustion in the
early hours of the morning.
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Chapter 4
“Good morning, sunshine. How do you feel?” Leaning down,
Caelan gently kissed Dean’s forehead. Dean sighed sleepily and
cranked an eyelid open. He liked what he saw. A lot. Close-up on the
dreaded morning after, Caelan was still stunningly beautiful.
Although… Raising his head a little, Dean opened his other eye to see
better. That wasn’t how a guy was supposed to look after a night of
wild sex and too much booze.
“How long’ve you been up for?”
“Uh, about half an hour. Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“Sweetener, right?”
“Hmm-hmm.” Gorgeous looking and attentive. Watching Caelan
shuffle off to fetch the coffee, Dean sighed contentedly and snuggled
into his pillow. Caelan’s pillow. It smelled deliciously of him, the
scent Dean had become so well acquainted with during that last,
wonderful night, mingled with that sharper, alluring smell of male
sweat and sex. He could feel the pleasurable effect of it already and
reached down for a comforting gentle tug. It was Saturday, the whole
weekend lay ahead of them, and once he was fully awake he would
get the clothes off Caelan again and find out if they worked as well in
bright daylight as during the night.
Returning almost immediately, Caelan handed him a steaming
mug, but instead of sitting down again or, even better, getting back
into bed with Dean, he remained standing. There was an air of
shiftiness around him, and he didn’t look quite as happy and satisfied
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
43
as Dean would have liked him to. More…sheepish. Uncomfortable.
Distant. As if he’d realised that he'd made a mistake.
“Anything wrong?” Dean asked, getting concerned.
“No. Just… Uh, I have to go. Open the shop,” Caelan explained
evasively and checked his watch with a meaningful frown on his
forehead. “Sorry.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Hmm-hmm. It’s the busiest day of the week for me.”
So that was it. He had to get rid of Dean and felt guilty about it.
Or maybe he didn’t, but was worried about Dean making a scene.
“Oh, okay. Um, I think I should probably get ready and leave, too,
then.”
“It’s okay.” Caelan gave him a tentative, reserved smile. “I don’t
mind you staying for a bit. Drink your coffee, wake up, get dressed.
You can just pull the door closed, I’ll lock up later during the day.”
The offer sounded kind enough but he didn’t really look like he meant
what he said.
He’s regretting it already, Dean thought, and, trying to see what
they had done from Caelan’s perspective, he could easily understand
why. They were neighbours. They’d gotten along well enough
yesterday and all through the last night but if whatever was
developing between them went wrong—or at least didn’t work out—
they still had to live with each other, so to speak. Apparently Caelan
had realised that, too, and was applying the emergency brakes
although it was definitely a little late for that. Maybe he was hoping
for some damage control if he stopped before they got a chance to
take this yet further. Or maybe, Dean thought miserably, I was the
disappointment. Maybe I didn’t quite meet his expectations. Maybe
metal-stud-in-his-dick-enhanced Craig has left a gap I couldn’t fill, so
to speak. Caelan had seemed to sincerely enjoy himself last night but
perhaps he’d just been polite.
“Uh, are you okay?” Caelan’s voice broke into his thoughts.
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“Sure. Sorry, drifting off again.” Dean gulped down his coffee
hastily and hopped out of bed. Caelan wasn’t quite looking at him, at
least not openly ogling him the way one might a new lover one was
hoping to see more of.
“If you give me just one more minute we can leave together.”
“You don’t have to…” Caelan started, but fell silent. “Okay. I’ll
collect some stuff I need for the day then I’m off.”
Dean dressed wordlessly and in record time, then followed Caelan
outside. Unsure whether or not to expect a good-bye kiss he hovered
in the hall, watching Caelan lock the door.
“Got any plans for tonight?” he asked at last when he couldn’t
stand the silence any longer. At least then he’d know. It didn’t come
as much of a surprise when Caelan nodded apologetically. “Mm-
hmm. I’ve got a late appointment for a tattoo that I promised to finish
tonight and it’s going to get quite late.” He stifled a yawn, again with
that slightly guilty look on his face. “After that I think I really need to
catch up on some sleep.”
“No problem.” Dean shrugged it off, but he did want to know so
he gave it another try, even if that meant coming across as desperate.
“How about tomorrow?”
Looking mortified, Caelan shook his head. “Can’t. I’ve, uh, got
something planned that I really can’t cancel. Maybe—”
“Well, how about we just play it by ear next time we bump into
each other? We’re neighbours now, so that’s probably gonna happen
eventually.” There was no need to waste any more time, his own or
Caelan’s. Dean understood when he was being blown off and could
handle it.
Caelan stared at him blankly. “But—”
“Have a nice day sticking needles into people. I’ll see you
around,” Dean said as carelessly as he could manage and stomped up
the stairs to his own flat.
In the silence that accompanied him shoving his key into the door
lock he heard Caelan’s footsteps on the way down to the ground floor,
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
45
a slow, tired shuffle. The bounce in his step that had been there the
day before was gone. Dean could relate to the feeling easily. He was
exhausted from the strain of the last day and a night of way too little
sleep. At the same time, the thrill of being with a new lover had left
him thoroughly overexcited, like being jiggy from too much caffeine.
He went inside and took a look around. The first things his gaze
fell upon, naturally, were the sofa, the stack of empty pizza boxes, the
small army of drained beer bottles and the used and carelessly
discarded condom. Dean snatched a deep breath to suppress a groan
but that made him only notice the smell in his flat. Stale, cold air
reeking of beer and old greasy food, laced with more male sweat and
sex. He hated it.
He crossed the room determinedly and opened a window then
turned right around and opened another before he tackled the task
ahead. The condom went into the bin first, the empty boxes and
bottles followed suit. After six years in an exclusive relationship he
knew he wasn’t up to date with the latest dos and don’ts of dating but
this wasn’t how a morning after was supposed to look like, was it? At
least not if you were hoping to see more of your lover.
* * * *
By Sunday evening, Dean had done a fairly good job of getting
his flat in order. There was still some fine-tuning necessary, but he
wasn’t really into decoration anyway so he could definitely live with
things as they were until he found the time, and energy, to force
himself into another fit of homely nest-building creativity. Creativity.
The word set off one more memory that unavoidably led to Caelan.
Having spent a lot of time with nothing but physical occupation,
Dean’s mind had been free to thoroughly brood over what had
happened between him and his handsome new neighbour, and
admittedly, he’d long since realised that his reaction on that morning
had been completely over the top and unjustified.
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Although he’d assumed that he’d been about to outstay his
welcome, Caelan himself hadn’t said anything along those lines. He’d
just looked about to fall asleep while standing on his feet. Yes, he’d
also looked embarrassed and nervous, but then maybe that was how
you felt when you woke up for the first time with a new man in your
bed. Dean himself had certainly felt self-conscious around him that
morning. Even though he hated to admit it, it was clearly him in the
wrong and he knew very well what the grown-up thing to do was.
Shaking off his reluctance, he got up, grabbed his keys and left his
flat.
Less than five minutes later, he was back inside. Caelan wasn’t at
home.
Dean killed another twenty minutes by debating with himself how
to spend his second, apparently lonely, night at his new home. The
sad truth was, he didn’t want to be alone. He hated being alone.
During his time with Phil, he’d rarely been alone in the evenings.
That had been one of the better elements of their relationship and, as
it turned out, one that he did miss. The one that he currently missed
the most. Just as he missed company. He didn’t miss Phil’s company
though, that was for certain. He missed…
He switched on the TV and flicked through the endless number of
channels that seemed to be operated by the same programme
director—at least that was what the frightening amount of senseless,
uninspired pseudo-reality shows suggested. Glaring at his bookshelf
he soon had to admit that the idea was pointless. How was he
supposed to read a book if he couldn’t focus on one long enough to
even finish reading the title on its spine? No, he needed more than a
book or the box, which both required him to make the effort of giving
them his attention. He needed someone who talked to him and kept
him entertained. He stared at the phone and wondered who would be
available at this hour. Certainly not Andy or David, his so-called best
friends. The unreliable bastards had left him alone with all his stuff,
so they were basically to blame for the disaster with Caelan. Well,
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
47
maybe not for the disaster as such, but for meeting him. Which wasn’t
a disaster in itself, but the outcome was and…
Angrily shoving the thoughts aside once again, Dean was just
about to pick up the phone and call his mother in a moment of despair
when it started ringing of its own accord. His heart leapt in the
irrational hope of it being Caelan, which was entirely impossible
seeing as they hadn’t swapped phone numbers. Why should they?
They were neighbours. They lived on top of each other. Literally.
Dean picked up the phone and checked the caller ID. Arthur
James. He stifled a groan. Arthur. One of the guys at work. They
weren’t exactly friends but had met occasionally for shared lunch
breaks. Arthur had never made much of a secret that he would be
happy to share not just the occasional lunch break, but that had never
been an option for Dean. For more than one reason.
“Hello.”
“Dean? Hi, it’s Arthur.”
“Hi, Arthur.”
“I was just wondering how you were settling in. Did moving work
out all right?”
“Sure.” Not thanks to you though.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to help, but I had these tickets,
you see. I bought them ages ago.”
“No problem. I got it.” Lazy bastard.
“Listen, uh, I got you a little housewarming present. Nothing
fancy but I was thinking that maybe I could pop by to drop it off.
What do you think?”
I think that you’re pretty much the last person I want to see
tonight but at least you are a person. “Sure, why not.” He gave Arthur
the address and even made a half-hearted attempt at sounding as if he
was looking forward to seeing him.
Arthur arrived soon afterwards. Suspiciously soon. He must have
been somewhere on the way already, or at least all dressed up and
ready to go when he had called. The housewarming present turned out
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Sage Marlowe
to be a bottle of champagne. Not the most expensive, but a decent
one. The intention behind it was probably not quite such a decent one.
They chatted for a bit. Dean was careful to avoid giving too many
details about how he had moved all of his things and turned the
conversation to less thorny, work-related issues as soon as he could.
Arthur was dropping increasingly undisguised hints about the true
reason for his visit until Dean just couldn’t stand it anymore.
Yawning widely, he put on an expression that was just sheepish
enough to let him get away with being impolite and booting his visitor
out. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” Another yawn, barely suppressed this
time, “I’m just so tired. This weekend was really exhausting, and I
didn’t sleep that well. New environment and all that.”
“Oh dear. Poor thing,” Arthur crooned and Dean only just stopped
short of glaring at him. “Dean…”
“Hmm?” No, admittedly Dean didn’t have the excuse of not
seeing it coming. If he was honest, he’d been expecting it from the
moment he’d seen the number on his phone’s display. But physically
exhausted, emotionally raw, and frustrated, his defences were low and
he simply let it happen.
Arthur’s lips met his, he felt the tip of Arthur’s cold, squidgy
tongue on his lips then pushing inside, and for the fragment of a
moment, he thought he could make himself believe that he might
want it to happen, that it might be the relief he was looking for. Very
briefly, he managed to conjure up the somewhat blurry memories of
Caelan’s mouth, his taste, the feel of him, the way his warm caressing
hand had cupped the side of Dean’s face as they had kissed. Maybe if
he kept his eyes closed he could make himself believe that it was
Caelan, that those rough, chipped lips were Caelan’s.
No. He couldn’t. Not for a second. This wasn’t Caelan. This
wasn’t something he wanted, and nothing Arthur could say or do
compared in the least to the easy, natural intimacy he’d shared so
effortlessly with Caelan. Taking a step back he broke the kiss and put
himself out of Arthur’s reach.
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
49
“Arthur, I…”
“Fucking hell, you really don’t waste any time, do you?” It was
the voice Dean had been longing to hear for almost two entire days,
but the anger and hurt in it made his heart plummet more than even
the expression on Caelan’s face.
“Fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Caelan, this isn’t what it
looks like,” he tried awkwardly, knowing that it was a waste of
breath.
“Yeah, right. As if I haven’t heard that line before.” Spitting the
words out, Caelan turned on his heel and fled back down the stairs.
Looking after him numbly, Dean became aware of Arthur staring at
him blankly. “Who’s that?”
“That,” Dean said miserably, “is the man I’ve fallen in love with.”
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Chapter 5
Admittedly, Dean was relieved that he wasn’t the only customer
in Caelan’s tattoo and piercing studio. It gave him time to take a look
around without feeling observed. Not that it really mattered if he was
being observed because the guy behind the counter wasn’t Caelan but
a gangly youngster who looked barely old enough for all the ink and
metal pieces he had in his skin. At least it seemed to give him an
advantage—he obviously knew what he was talking about as he gave
advice to a woman who wanted an old, faded tattoo covered with a
new design. Listening in on their conversation with half his brain,
Dean looked at the pictures of tattoos that were on display. There
were a lot of them, and the designs varied, but they were all striking
in their own way. Caelan was excellent at what he did, that much was
obvious.
“Hi there! How can I help you?”
Dean turned around. He hadn’t even noticed the approach of the
youngster who beamed a bright smile at him. “Let me guess, you’re
thinking about getting a tattoo, right? Something traditional probably.
Maybe…um, something with a cross? Or perhaps a Vegas motif?
Cards? Dice?”
“Uh, no,” Dean said apologetically and returned the smile.
“Not?”
“No. I’m just looking for Caelan. Is he in?”
“Yeah. He’s in the back, working on a tattoo.”
“Do you know when he’ll finish? Or is there any chance I can talk
to him?”
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51
Still smiling, the kid shrugged. “He’s gonna take a break
eventually. If you want you can wait here. Or is it urgent?”
Dean shifted uncomfortably. Urgent? No. A delicate matter
maybe but laying himself open first for embarrassment and then for
rejection was definitely not urgent.
“I’ll just wait here,” he said evasively.
“Okay, cool. That means I’ll have some company. Are you a
friend of Caelan’s?”
Oh dear. More questions. When he had come up with the idea of
paying Caelan a little visit at work, Dean hadn’t taken an inquisitive
employee into consideration. The question was, was the kid just an
employee or someone Caelan might have confided in about his short-
lived affair with Dean?
“I’m, uh, I just moved into the building and wanted to say hi.”
“Ah, I see. Cay mentioned that there was a new tenant. Did you
get a chance to check out the area yet?”
“Not really. I spent the last week working and sorting my stuff
out. The only thing I got a chance to check out so far is the pizza
service,” Dean joked feebly. And Cay. Repeatedly.
“Oh, well, you can give me a shout if you fancy grabbing a drink
after work sometime. I usually finish at seven.”
Dean struggled to keep his expression neutral. Why, oh why did
men have to choose the one time in his life to queue up for a chance
to hit on him when all he wanted was a second chance to talk things
out with a certain gorgeous blond?
And why did that gorgeous blond have to be present every time
Dean was being hit on?
In a twisted turn of fate, Caelan had chosen that moment for his
break and obviously overheard at least the last part of the
conversation. There was something like grim amusement in his
expression as his green-grey eyes flicked from the kid behind the
counter to Dean and back. “Quit chatting up the patrons, Steve. Did
you finish sterilising the needles?”
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Steve, who had been holding Caelan’s glare defiantly at first,
looked mortified at the question. “Uh, not yet. Sorry.” He shot Dean a
quick glance and sped off to disappear behind the curtain that
separated the public area of the shop from the back room where
Caelan did the majority of his work.
“Hi, Caelan,” Dean greeted, feeling nervous. One week had
somewhat dulled the memories Caelan had left him with, and he
hadn’t expected the emotions he’d believed to be delicately
blossoming to turn into a botanic garden as soon as he saw Caelan
again.
“Hello.” Caelan sounded not quite hostile but not particularly
encouraging either. Carefully neutral at best.
“Do you have a minute?”
“I’m working.”
“Your…uh, Steve, said you were going to take a break eventually.
He said I could wait here for you, but if you’d rather I come back
another time…”
Caelan let out a sigh. “Thanks to my, uh, Steve, and his fucking
neglect to do his job right it seems I have to take my break now.” He
glanced at the big clock on the wall. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes.
What do you want?”
“Can I buy you coffee?”
Caelan looked indecisive but shrugged. “Okay, why not. Steve,
I’m out for a coffee!” he called in the general direction of the shop’s
back area.
“Have fun!” The muffled reply brought a scowl to Caelan’s face,
but he didn’t comment on it as he indicated for Dean to follow him
outside. They crossed the road in silence and entered the small coffee
shop.
“What would you like?”
“The usual,” Caelan answered without even looking at the board.
“The usual for him and a plain coffee for me.” Dean placed his
order with a curvy brunette who kept ogling Caelan overtly while she
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
53
prepared their drinks. Caelan’s turned out to be a caramel latte
macchiato with two shots of espresso and an extra-bright smile, given
to him in person by the brunette.
“Seems they’re quite fond of their regulars in this place,” Dean
smirked. Caelan didn’t look amused as he said, “Yeah, well,
apparently we’ve all got our admirers.” The bitterness in his tone
stung, especially as Dean could easily see the reason behind it. Putting
himself into Caelan’s shoes wasn’t hard and admittedly, he would
have probably reacted the same way.
“Caelan, about last weekend…” he started awkwardly.
“You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I’d like to tell you anyway.”
Caelan held his gaze coolly. “You know what? I don’t want to
hear it. We fucked, it was nice, but let’s face it, the world didn’t stop
turning because of it. It’s okay, I’m a big boy and what—or who—
ever you did after you did me is none of my business.”
“Oh.” Dean helplessly struggled for words. That wasn’t what he’d
hoped to hear. He’d been prepared for anger, disappointment, maybe
even tears, but the cold indifference Caelan treated him with was
something he didn’t know how to handle. If Caelan didn’t care
enough about them to at least be angry then there was no point trying
to apologise to him, was there? “Well, good to know that you see it
that way.”
“Anything else you’d like to talk about?”
“Uhh… In fact, yes, there is,” Dean answered, surprising himself
as much as Caelan as his brain unexpectedly kicked into overdrive
and coughed up an idea that Dean would have dismissed as ridiculous
if he weren’t quite so desperate. “Remember when we talked about
me getting a tattoo?”
“Sure.” Caelan shrugged, licking the froth off his latte. Dean tried
not to stare at the flash of pink tongue slicing through the fluffy white
cream.
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“Would you still do it?” It was an irrational, stupid attempt, one
that he was most definitely going to regret, but during that past week
he had become very much aware of the fact that he would regret
letting Caelan go without a fight even more than getting a couple of
square inches of skin covered with ink. At least he sincerely hoped it
would be that way.
“You want me to tattoo you?” Caelan sounded sceptical.
“Yes. I had a chance to, uh, think about it some more and I looked
at your work today. I like what you do, so I’d like you to do mine.”
“Are you sure you want that?”
“Yes.”
Caelan eyed him up with an unreadable expression, ignoring the
froth on his latte for the time being, then let out his breath in a little
resigned huff. “Okay.”
“Okay?” That had been a lot easier than expected even though it
would be nice if Caelan seemed a little more enthusiastic about the
idea and didn’t just give a careless shrug as he said, “Sure. I have to
go back now anyway. You can come with me and make an
appointment with Steve.”
“Appointment? With Steve? Why do I need an appointment with
him when I want you to do my tattoo?”
Caelan cast him an amused glance as he led the way out of the
coffee shop. “Steve is my administrative help,” he explained. “He
makes the appointments, tells the people who come in everything they
need to know and usually does all the other stuff that needs to be
done. If I did all that myself I’d work twenty-four seven.”
“Oh, okay. But why the appointment? Don’t you just, um, do the
tattoos when someone comes in and wants one?”
The soft chuckle Caelan let out went straight to Dean’s heart
where it caused a bit of mayhem before it travelled down to his groin
where it caused a rather embarrassing swelling. Dean determinedly
focused on Caelan’s words and the pattern of the cracks in the
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55
concrete as they crossed the road on their way back to Caelan’s
studio.
“I’ve got a pretty long waiting list. I’d have to check but off the
top of my head I’d say it will be at some point in about two months’
time.”
“Two months? Oh, that is quite a long waiting list. Can’t you
squeeze me in somewhere?”
An unfortunate choice of words, Dean noticed even before he
caught the sour gleam in Caelan’s eyes. Covering himself up quickly,
Caelan turned it into a sneer and said, “Hardly. That’s why I’ve got a
waiting list—because I can’t just do a tattoo whenever someone wants
theirs done.”
They had reached the studio and Dean knew that he had to act
fast. No way was he going to wait two months for another chance to
talk to Caelan. Heaven knew what could happen until then. “Um,
here’s a thought. You still need to do your taxes, right?”
“Right.” Caelan frowned. “Why?”
“You said you don’t like doing them, and I was just thinking that
maybe we could do something for each other.”
The frown lines deepened. “What would that be?”
“Well, as you know, I’m a tax accountant and if you want, I’ll do
your taxes for you, free of charge, and you can do my tattoo in the
time you save. How does that sound?”
“That…” Caelan broke off, struggling with his conflicting
emotions for a moment. In the end he let out a deep sigh and gave a
shrug. “Okay, you got me. Do you know what you want or do you
still want to give me free rein?”
“How about you show me your suggestion and I decide whether it
works for me?”
“Fair enough. You do realise you’re about to get a very expensive
tattoo though, right?”
Dean smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it. When do you want to
start?”
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“Tomorrow. I finish at seven, that should give you some time to
go through the paper stuff and all that. Is that okay?”
“Works for me.”
“Good. I’ll see you at seven then.” Caelan looked indecisive and
about to say more but remained silent and left for the shop’s back
room with an unfathomable expression on his face.
* * * *
At seven o’clock the next evening, Dean entered Caelan’s studio
with very mixed feelings. Sure, his plan might get him close to Caelan
for a few hours but what if Caelan really wasn’t interested in him
anymore? What if he didn’t like the tattoo Caelan had designed for
him? In the worst possible case he’d end up with a tattoo he didn’t
like that would remind him for the rest of his life of a man he had
failed to hold on to in time.
“Hiya, I’ll be with you in a minute!” Caelan called from
somewhere in the back.
“It’s me. Dean!”
“Oh, great. Put the Closed sign on the door and come through,
would you?”
“Okay.” Dean did as he was told and crossed the public area of
the studio, walking past the lines of photographs of the tattoos Caelan
had etched into other people’s skin. Once again he wondered if he’d
really thought this through. He knew he hadn’t, so he shoved the
thought away before he could start seriously second-guessing his
decision.
Pushing the heavy, black, velvet curtain to the side, he entered the
back area for the first time and took a look around. It was much
bigger than he had expected and consisted of three rooms, not just
one. Two were empty and the third was occupied by Caelan and a
blue-haired girl of around twenty years. She lay topless on a low
padded table, fortunately front down, while Caelan was bending over
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57
her, holding what looked a lot like a medieval torture instrument in
his hand. From the looks of it he was just about to put the colour into
the last of several butterflies that decorated the girl’s back in a line
from her hip to the nape of her neck. Turning his head, he smiled up
at Dean, his expression for once unguarded and full of the relaxed
cheerfulness he’d displayed on the day they had met. “Hi. I’ll just
finish Ginnie’s butterfly armada then I’m all yours.”
Dean doubted that he meant that but it sounded nice anyway.
Returning the smile, he nodded.
“Is it okay if I take a look? Uh, Ginnie, is it?”
Careful not to move she said, “Sure. As long as you keep your
eyes on the ink. And only on the ink.”
“Sweetie, he’s no more interested in your girly bits than I am.”
Caelan chuckled as the tattoo gun in his hand buzzed into life again
and the butterfly’s wing slowly turned a bright pink.
“Oh, that’s good then. Is he your boyfriend?”
Ignoring the question, Caelan wiped the excess ink off her skin,
dipped the needle into more liquid pink, and continued his work
before he asked, “How’s the piercing doing? Healing well?”
“Perfect. Jane’s been having a lot of fun with it.”
“Just remember to keep going easy with it until it’s healed
properly,” Caelan reminded sternly. “And that means she’s not
supposed to get any body fluids on you. None at all.”
“Spoilsport,” Ginnie replied, but looked appropriately ashamed.
“Just trying to keep you healthy and all the fun parts in working
order.”
She sighed theatrically. “I know you do. Thanks, Cay, you’re a
sweetheart.”
He grinned and cleaned the tattoo again but didn’t say anything
else. Dean watched in silent fascination, trying to understand the
pattern behind Caelan’s actions as he watched him carefully apply the
ink into the girl’s skin, remove the excess with a tissue, dip the needle
into the fresh ink, and start the whole process again. So that was how
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this was done. He stifled a sigh. The girl’s tattoo was very beautiful if
maybe quite a bit too, well, girlie, for Dean’s taste but he assumed
that Caelan had picked a different design for him. The good thing was
that apparently having a needle stuck into the upper layers of your
skin at a speed of several times per second didn’t hurt all that much.
Either that or willowy Ginnie was quite a bit tougher than she looked.
She barely batted an eyelid, flinching only occasionally when Caelan
moved on to colour a new part of her skin.
“That’s it, doll,” he said after a while and put the gun down. He
stood and straightened up, twisting and stretching this way and that to
work the kinks out of his spine. Having observed him for a good
twenty minutes, Dean could now understand why Caelan was
concerned about his back.
“Go have a look.”
Ginnie didn’t need to be told twice. She hopped off the table and
bounced across the room to ogle herself in the mirror. “I love it!” she
squealed excitedly and bounced right back to where Caelan was
standing, wrapped her skinny arms around his neck, and planted a fat
kiss on his cheek. “Honestly, Cay, you’re the best! I can’t wait to
show Jane! Oh, that reminds me, she asks if you’re still on at two
tomorrow.”
“Thanks and yes, absolutely.” Caelan smiled at her fondly but
stifled a yawn. “She wants the sixties pinup on her thigh, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Tell her that’s fine. Right, you know all about the aftercare
so we’re done. Put on your clothes and I’ll see you out.”
Dean waited until Caelan had let Ginnie out and locked the door
behind her before following him to the front part of the shop. Caelan
turned around to him with a grin on his face.
“What?” Dean frowned.
“Are you scared yet?”
“Uh, no. Why, is there a reason to?”
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59
“Not at all. Just the way you kept staring at me back there would
have you believe I was after your soul rather than going to put some
ink into your skin.”
“Was I that obvious?”
Smiling, Caelan nodded as he walked past Dean and to the
counter where he flicked the light switches that were hidden
underneath it, leaving the little shop almost entirely dark with only the
dim illumination the lights from the back area provided. The back of
Dean’s neck tingled. Not with fear of course. He had stopped being
afraid of the dark a long time ago. No, this tingle was of a far more
pleasant kind. The kind that came from his body recalling the last
time it had been close to Caelan’s in a dimly lit room and the
pleasures it had experienced. Dean denied his body the trip further
down memory lane and instead ordered it to follow Caelan to the back
rooms.
“Okay,” Caelan said slowly, turning around, and took a deep
breath. “Fun or work first?”
“Which one’s which?”
Caelan rolled his eyes. “Can’t you guess?”
“Hmm. From your point of view I’d guess my tattoo is the fun
part, right?”
“Yep. Right.”
Dean smiled. “If it’s okay for you I’m more than happy to start
with that. I’m dying to know what you’ve got for me, so my
suggestion is you tell me what you’ve got planned for me and we
have a look at your books afterwards while we grab a bite to eat. At
least then we both know what we’re dealing with, and also, not that I
believe it to be likely, but if you need to make any changes you could
do that while I start looking into your taxes.”
“You really thought this through, huh?” Caelan grinned once
more. “Sounds good to me though, especially the part about food. I
haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
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“Oh dear. Demanding work and a bad diet. You need someone to
look after you a bit more.” Dean bit his tongue. What was it with the
inappropriate comments whenever Caelan was around?
Caelan looked away, gloomy. “I’m usually quite capable of doing
that myself.”
“I wasn’t… Of course you are.”
With a quick sceptical glance, Caelan left for the second back
room, returning moments later with a sheet of paper.
“That’s it?” Now Dean was getting really nervous. What had he
been thinking?
“This is it,” Caelan confirmed. He, too, looked more nervous than
a minute ago. “Sure about this?”
“No,” Dean admitted. “So you better show me quick before I
change my mind.”
“Okay. Here it is.” Holding out the sheet, Caelan flipped it over.
Dean stared at it for a long time, wordless. Stunned.
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
61
Chapter 6
“Not what you expected, huh?” Caelan asked eventually in an
uncharacteristically small voice.
“No, not at all.”
Caelan’s face darkened. “You don’t like it.”
“Quite the opposite.” Dean shook his head slowly, still staring. “I
love it. Honestly, Caelan, this is amazing. I’m just overwhelmed
because I didn’t really expect you to come up with something that
good.”
“Oh, well, thanks,” Caelan said dryly.
“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just… I didn’t tell you what I want,
I didn’t even have a clue myself, and you come up with something
that is just so…so amazing. How do you do that?”
The shrug Caelan gave was clearly meant to be casual, but there
was a definite note of pride in his voice as he said, “It’s my job to
know what will look good on someone and suit them and if I’ve got
completely free rein that makes it even easier for me.”
“Yes, but… I mean, this isn’t just something that looks nice. This
is…well, me.”
“I know.” Now Caelan looked definitely proud. And a little smug.
“But you don’t know me all that well,” Dean blurted out.
“Maybe I do. At least well enough for that.”
Trying to read his expression, Dean looked up, but Caelan had
turned away and was busy cleaning up his workplace. So he asked
instead, “Do you want to do this tonight?”
“Nn-nn.” Caelan shook his head in passing. “It’s too late to start
now. Also, as you might imagine, this is going to take several
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sessions. I don’t want to go too hard on you seeing as you’re a
virgin.” He bit his lip and averted his face again quickly. At least
Dean wasn’t the only one whose brain came up with the wrong things
to say—or maybe their brains weren’t involved at all, which would
also be a plausible explanation.
“How long do you think it will take?”
Caelan shrugged and carefully examined a set of sterilised
needles. “That depends on your pain threshold, really. I’ve got time
for you tomorrow after eight and then Friday night after six if that
works for you. If not, or if we need more time than that, I’ll set you up
for an additional session next week. Then we’ll have to wait for about
a week to let it heal before we can continue. Altogether I think we’re
looking at a time span of around two months, including sufficient
time for you to heal in between sessions.”
Two months. Perfect. Two months to find out if he and Caelan
really stood a chance.
“Okay. Do you want to show me your paperwork now?”
Caelan sighed. “Want? No. I can hardly bear to look at the stuff.
But I think I’ll have to deal with it anyway seeing as you’re the good
fairy who takes this off my shoulders. Tag along.”
He led Dean to the third back room which was equipped with a
small desk and a long row of shelves on one wall. A box containing a
neat stack of papers and folders sat on the floor right next to the desk.
Caelan picked it up and put it on the desk. “This is it. Are you sure
you want to do this?”
Dean smiled. “It’s my job, remember? Mind if I take a peek?”
“Not at all, be my guest.”
Taking out the stack of paperwork, Dean put it on the desk next to
the box and picked up the first folder. He flicked through the contents
quickly before he took out the next, and the rest, watched by Caelan’s
sorrowful eyes.
“Everything okay? Can you work with this?”
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63
Grinning, Dean nodded and put everything back into the box. “I
just wish all my clients had their stuff as well prepared as you have.
Although, on second thoughts, no, I don’t, seeing as I can charge
them for all the time I need to comb through their chaos.” Jerking his
head at the box, he added, “Seriously, you did a good job presorting
this. Thank you. It makes my life a thousand times easier.”
Caelan looked flattered and slightly embarrassed. He had
obviously decided to take the compliment as exactly what it was.
Wracking his brain for something else to say, Dean hovered next
to the desk for what felt like several minutes but had in fact been
probably no more than some seconds.
“Oh! I offered you food at some point, didn’t I?”
“Well, you mentioned it,” Caelan corrected, drumming his
fingertips on the desk.
“Right. How about I’ll take you to the pub at the end of the road?”
“Hmm. The pub at the end of the road.” A smirk tugged at
Caelan’s eyes. “Sounds like a bad song title. You don’t have to, you
know.”
“I know. But I’d like to. Come on, you must be starved by now. I
know that I certainly am, and I really can’t be bothered to cook
something.”
Seemingly indecisive, Caelan drew some random patterns on the
surface of his desk with his fingers. “I think I’d better pass. I still have
some cleaning up to do.”
“Oh. You keep lousy hours.”
Caelan made a face. “I know.”
“I think I’ll, uh, leave you to it then.” Dean patted the box. “After
all I’ve got this to see me through the evening.”
“Okay.” Caelan looked away, shifted his weight and started to
nervously drum his fingertips on the desk again. He, too, seemed like
he was desperately struggling to find something suitable to say, but
when he spoke at last, all that came out was, “Well then, thank you
for looking at that. I’ll just see you out.”
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“Are you sure you don’t want to grab a bite to eat?”
Caelan answered with a vague sound that was probably supposed
to mean that he indeed declined Dean’s offer.
“Well then, try not to let it get too late. You need some rest,”
Dean said with a softness that surprised even himself.
Returning the smile, Caelan nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
* * * *
“Relax. Take off your shirt.”
“Now that’s a contradiction in terms.”
Caelan grinned and said, “Take off your shirt and remember to
keep breathing. Think you can do that?”
“Umm. Just about.”
“Good. Now come here and sit down.” Looking at Dean, he
laughed. “Are you scared yet?”
“A bit,” Dean admitted but obediently sat down. Was it normal to
feel quite so shaky?
“Try not to wriggle too much, okay?”
“What are you doing?” Dean shrank back when Caelan
approached him with a weird, pen-like tool.
“Drawing reference lines.”
“Wait, what is that?”
“What? This?”
“Uh-huh.”
“A felt pen.”
“Oh.”
Raising his gaze to Dean’s face, Caelan laughed again. “Are you
sure you want me to do this?”
“Yes,” Dean answered with as much conviction as he could
muster, which admittedly didn’t feel like much. “Just maybe…could
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65
you please tell me what you’re going to do? Or rather, what you’re
doing?”
The smile on Caelan’s face grew kind. “I’m going to do the actual
tattooing freehand. I’ll need to draw some rough outlines on your skin
first so I know where I’m going.”
Dean eyed the sketch of what was going to become his new tattoo
again sceptically. “Don’t you think it’s too large?”
“Trust me. It’s just right. Besides, as I’m doing it freehand, I can
match it to your exact shapes and proportions. Custom make it, so to
speak.” Caelan winked, playful again.
“You can do something like this freehand? Even these parts?”
Dean pointed at the intricate pattern of thin lines that made up almost
a third of the complete design.
“I did the sketching freehand, too, didn’t I?”
“Well, yes, obviously, but you used a pencil on paper for that,”
Dean pointed out.
“Precisely.” Caelan chuckled and clicked the cap off the pen. “I’m
a lot better with a needle and ink on skin. Steady now,” he warned
and Dean felt the scrape of the pen’s tip on his skin. It didn’t hurt of
course, it was more like a tickle. Besides, his nerves were far too busy
reporting to his brain how excited they were at the nearness of
Caelan's body, the gush of breath as he exhaled, and the warm, strong
fingers on his bare skin. The hard-muscled thigh that brushed Dean’s
knee as Caelan leaned across him to draw a line all the way to the
back of his arm sent a little jolt of excitement through Dean's belly.
He could smell the scent of Caelan's skin and the fragrance of the
shampoo. It was the one he had washed Caelan’s hair with just a little
over a week ago.
Providing an opportunity to be close to Caelan. That had been part
of the plan, right? Close. Apparently he hadn’t really thought about
how close he was going to get. And what getting so close meant.
“Breathe,” Caelan whispered, suddenly so very near to Dean’s ear
that Dean wondered if he actually heard or rather felt the words.
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“Uh, okay.” What was it about Caelan and breathing? Still, Dean
did as he was told and concentrated on his breath coming and going
for a few moments. It was easy. He was less aware of Caelan’s
proximity, which in a way was good as it allowed him to think more
clearly, but being so near to him again had been very nice, too. It
reminded him of Caelan’s mouth on his, the way his lips yielded to let
him in, just as his body had done a little while later and—
“Fuck, I said steady!” Caelan snapped, interrupting Dean’s lovely
fantasy.
“Uh, sorry. What happened? What did I do?”
Caelan sighed. “Twitched and… Oh, never mind. It’s just a
drawing, not the real thing, fortunately. Just please try not to do that
when I’m working with the needle later on, okay?”
“Okay,” Dean promised, sheepish. He didn’t even know what he
had done. Not really, but apparently he had twitched. Had he really?
He couldn’t even remember. He took the opportunity of Caelan
turning away to grab some tissues and looked at his arm. There was a
crisscross pattern of thin blue lines on it that looked a lot like the web
of a spider with a drinking problem. One line led away from it and
even Dean could tell that that line didn’t belong there. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay.”
“I guess I was just…thinking. Drifting off a bit.”
“What about?” Caelan’s voice sounded different. It had assumed a
light, conversational tone that Dean couldn’t remember having heard
before. A professional, chatty tone. Caelan was making small talk
while working. Not ideal, but at least they were talking, and maybe it
was a chance to find out more about him.
“How long’ve you been doing this for?”
“Tattoos? Um, professionally for five years. Before that I was in
training, well, what you call training in the scene.”
“Whereabouts?”
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67
“Oh, I did a lot of stuff all over the place,” Caelan said evasively
and opened a small pot of black ink. He poured some into a tiny
yellow container, observing it attentively.
“So you’re not from around here?”
“Not originally, no.”
“What made you come here?”
“Coincidence. Fate.” Caelan shrugged and picked up the tattoo
gun and a fresh needle, carefully assembling the two. “Whatever you
wanna call it. My sis got married to a local guy a couple of years ago,
and when I wanted to open up my own studio, she found this place. I
took it and now I’m here.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Here and there.” A muscle in Caelan’s jaw flexed, and the tattoo
gun whizzed into life with the noise of a small army of bees. Dean
tensed. No turning back now. The sound stopped. And started up
again. And stopped and started once more. “Anything wrong?”
“No, why?”
“Because— Oh, ouch.”
A thin black line appeared on Dean’s arm. Well, line was an
exaggeration. It was no more than maybe three millimetres long, but
already Caelan lowered the needle again, adding a bit.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Dean realised to his surprise. “Not really, that
is.”
Focussed on Dean’s arm, Caelan smiled absentmindedly as he
explained, “This part of your skin is rather insensitive, so it’s a good
place to start as it gives your body time to produce endorphins—
natural painkillers. It’s going to get a bit more uncomfortable in some
of the other areas, but for the most part it will be no worse than this.”
“I think I can handle that.”
“Ooh, you’re such a brave boy, I’m so proud of you,” Caelan
teased good-humouredly.
“Ha-ha. Did you ever have a client who couldn’t handle it?
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“Hmm.” Pausing with the needle, Caelan looked up thoughtfully
and wiped the excess ink from Dean’s skin. “Yeah, there were a few.
More delicate areas though. A girl even fainted once. That was a bit
of a nightmare.” He chuckled, dipped the needle into the ink and
continued his work.
“What did you do to her?”
Caelan grinned. “Before or after she fainted?”
“Either.”
“She wanted a tattoo at the base of her back. A really big one, I
think it was a sun with flickering flames around it or something. I’d
barely been going for five minutes when she mumbled something
about not feeling well and went all limp. It took me a moment to
realise that she was really out cold, and when I did, I did the usual
stuff you learn in first aid classes. I took her off the chair, checked her
vital signs, made sure she was breathing and so forth. She came to
within a couple of minutes though, and it turned out that she’d been
dieting like mad because she wanted to get in shape for her upcoming
holidays. When I told her she couldn’t take her brand new tattoo to
the beach anyway, she started crying.” Grinning at the memory, he
rolled his eyes. “And that was even worse than the passing out.”
“Did you finish the tattoo?”
“Nn-nn. At least not the one she initially wanted. I changed it into
a small Chinese symbol, didn’t charge her, and asked her not to come
back.”
“Oh dear. Well, I think that’s not going to happen with me.”
“I don’t think so either.” Caelan smiled, repeating the by now
familiar routine of wipe-off-ink, gather-more-ink-on-needle, and start-
all-over-again for the umpteenth time. They continued to chat as
Caelan worked, Caelan telling Dean some more anecdotes from the
tattoo and piercing scene, while Dean offered some of the funnier
moments office work supplied. When Caelan eventually didn’t pick
up the gun again after cleaning Dean’s tattoo, Dean realised with a
jolt that they’d been going for well over two hours.
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69
“Go on, have a look,” Caelan invited, pointing at the floor-to-
ceiling mirror on one wall of the room. Dean got up but remained
where he was, hovering, suddenly doubtful. “Is it good?”
“No. It’s crap.” Caelan chuckled. “Of course it’s good. Don’t be a
baby, go and see for yourself.”
Dean took a deep breath and went to stare at himself in the mirror.
He liked what he saw. A lot. The tattoo was fantastic, but when
Caelan came to stand next to him and eyed Dean’s arm critically, he
liked what he saw even better. Caelan still had some work ahead of
him, but the tattoo already looked stunning. As did Caelan standing
next to him, Dean thought. They made a beautiful couple, that much
was obvious.
Caelan’s pale skin and blond, green-eyed Celtic looks
complemented Dean’s brown hair, hazel eyes and overall darker tones
nicely. In much the same way the rock style Caelan sported—ripped,
faded jeans with a wide, studded leather belt, and a black V-necked T-
shirt bearing the logo of a rock band and revealing some nice bits of
the ink in his skin—contrasted with Dean’s more conservative styling.
The conservative styling currently consisted of black slacks and a
bare torso, the right shoulder of which was decorated with a fair bit of
delicate black lines. So far Dean hadn’t even realised that Caelan was
just the right height for him. About an inch and a half shorter, this put
him at the perfect angle for long, indulgent kisses. All Dean had to do
was lower his head a little, tilt Caelan’s face up, and caress those
sweet lips, pouted in concentration, with his own.
“Uh,” Caelan cleared his throat awkwardly. “It isn’t finished yet,”
he said a little lamely.
“I know. It’s adorable though.” Just like you. “Just…” Dean didn’t
know what he’d been about to say, he couldn’t even remember if he’d
been about to say anything in the first place. It all ceased to matter
when Caelan turned his head, and all of a sudden, their position was
just perfect and his mouth was right in front of Dean’s, only an inch
or two away, waiting, inviting, challenging.
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Chapter 7
Dean lowered his head and gently swept his lips across Caelan’s.
Caelan made a weak little sound of surprise but didn’t protest so Dean
returned for another, longer touch. This time, a soft moan escaped
Caelan’s throat, and he responded, kissing Dean back, hesitantly at
first. But, when Dean’s tongue slipped between his lips he let him in,
welcoming him like a long lost and dearly missed lover. His arms
went around Dean for a tight embrace, pulling him close, crushing
him in his need to feel, just as Dean was desperate to feel him, touch
him, hold him. Caelan’s hands were on Dean’s back, mapping the
outlines of his body with fingers that weren’t all gentle but spoke of
an overwhelming eagerness Dean could relate to easily.
Cupping Caelan’s arse, he pulled him tight and held him there and
they both groaned as their groins met, identical eager erections
pressing into each other. The rhythm was easy to find, and soon they
were getting far beyond just kissing. Caelan was the first to give in
and ask for more. His hand trailed down Dean’s stomach and reached
for the fly that stood no chance to resist those nimble fingers.
“As nice as dry humping with you is, I want more than that,”
Caelan whispered huskily and pulled out Dean’s cock.
“Agreed,” Dean gasped as Caelan’s hand closed around his hard
length. “What— Oh, fuck, yes!” Caelan got the motion just right. The
exact pressure, flawless timing, and it felt good, oh so good. It wasn’t
enough though. Not enough and not what Dean wanted. It took no
more than a gentle prod for Caelan to understand. He dropped to his
knees smoothly and looked up at Dean, hesitating for a moment with
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an unfathomable expression in his eyes. The moment passed, and
Caelan closed his eyes just as he opened his mouth and took Dean in.
“That’s it, baby,” Dean muttered and flexed his hips, pushing
deeper into Caelan’s welcoming mouth. His fingers wandered through
the short, bristly hair at the nape of Caelan’s neck, pulling him close
and holding him steady, then wandered higher to where the hair was
long enough to offer some hold. He needed something to hold on to as
Caelan started working him with obvious enthusiasm, and even more
so when he noticed the nice extra aspect to their position. If he turned
his head and tilted his hip just a little, he could watch Caelan suck him
off from two angles—simultaneously. From his own point of view,
looking down, and from a sideways perspective in the mirror, which
had the advantage of showing him the rest of Caelan’s body,
especially the other hand which Caelan used to stroke himself with.
“This is so fucking hot,” Dean panted, watching Caelan’s pink
tongue twirl and flick around the head of his cock.
“Hmm?” Looking up, Caelan caught him staring at the mirror and
he, too, turned his head to watch. “Oh.” The little sound came out
half-choked and his rhythm faltered briefly but once he’d rearranged
his position he picked it up again effortlessly while watching. Dean
allowed himself and Caelan to indulge in that pleasure for a couple of
minutes but when he became too eager, he pushed Caelan’s head back
and pulled out. “Shh, not like this.” He stifled Caelan’s protesting
whimper with a kiss and dragged him to his feet. “Let me fuck you.”
“Dean…” The sound was somewhere between a moan and a
groan, but he didn’t object as Dean made him turn around and bend
over the table he’d tattooed the girl on earlier. This time Dean hadn’t
come unprepared. It had seemed largely presumptuous at the time but
better safe than sorry, and he knew Caelan played safe or not at all.
He took the foil packages from his pocket and pulled Caelan’s jeans
down the rest of the way, freeing his ankles so he could follow the
nudge Dean gave him and widen his stance. Half-turning his head,
Caelan looked back with a slight frown, presumably to check but
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when he saw Dean tear open the condom wrapper, the frown
disappeared and he lowered his head again, resting his forehead on his
wrists for support. Dean rolled the condom on and slicked himself,
applying the rest of the lube right where it was needed. Caelan let out
a low hiss as Dean pushed in without any further preparation, but
when Dean didn’t move, giving him time to adjust, he soon relaxed
around him and pushed back tentatively.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
Dean shoved in to the root, drawing a grunt from Caelan. He
pulled out and pushed back in, still careful, but already Caelan’s body
had adapted and opened up to him willingly. It hadn’t been a lie when
Caelan had said that he bottomed most of the time.
“Watch us.” Dean pointed at the mirror. They could still see
themselves in it, although the details weren’t quite as clear as before.
And yet, they looked stunning and indecently hot together. Caelan’s
hair was tousled from the assault of Dean’s fingers earlier, his
features twisted and plainly showing both the effort it took him to
accommodate Dean’s cock and the immense pleasure it brought him.
Dean lowered his head and bit Caelan’s shoulder gently, then
continued watching them in the mirror while nibbling Caelan’s ear, a
very sensitive area as he’d already discovered.
Technically, the table was a few inches too low for this position,
but the angle it provided turned out to be quite nice, especially for
Caelan. He surprised Dean once again when his inner muscles
suddenly fluttered and clenched around Dean’s cock. Catching him
off guard, the rhythmic contractions were enough to send Dean over
the edge, too, and he crashed, panting and exhausted, on top of
Caelan.
Remembering his manners this time, he used his arms to support
most of his weight, letting Caelan take only a fraction of it. He could
still see Caelan’s face in the mirror. Eyes closed, mouth slack, flushed
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73
and exhausted, he looked sexier than ever. “Gosh, you’re so fucking
beautiful,” Dean murmured into his ear. “Can I keep you?”
Caelan’s eyes popped open. “What?”
“I asked if I can keep you,” Dean repeated and kissed Caelan’s
cheek. He’d blurted the words out without thinking but now that they
were out, he might as well go all the way.
“What d’you mean, keep?” Caelan asked, suspicious.
“Keep as in be with you, go out with you, see you, date you—
whatever you want to call it, really.”
“Oh fuck, Dean.” Caelan sighed, but it was not a happy sound.
Pushing up to his feet, he shoved Dean off him and winced as he
straightened his back. He grabbed several tissues from the side table,
handed a handful to Dean and wiped himself down with the rest
before he looked up at Dean. “There’s no need for that, you know.”
“No need for what?”
“For…what you just said.” He sighed again. “Really. It’s nice—it
sounds nice, that is—but I don’t need any of that. In fact, I’d rather
we just be honest with each other, and call things what they are.”
“Uh…” Trying to catch on with whatever it was that had brought
about Caelan’s suddenly dark mood, Dean asked, “And what are
they?”
Doing up his fly, Caelan looked at him with amusement in his
eyes. “Well, we both like a good fuck, we’re neighbours. That might
come in handy on long, lonely nights.”
“You mean…? What do you mean exactly?”
Failing to meet Dean’s eyes, Caelan shrugged and let out a snort.
“We’re obviously quite a good match when it comes to sex. There’s
nothing wrong with that, but that’s all it is. As long as we’re both
clear on this, we can keep doing it if you want.”
“Huh? But…” That wasn’t how this had been supposed to turn
out. “You mean as in a friends-with-benefits thing?” Dean asked with
a sinking feeling.
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“More as in a neighbours-with-benefits thing.” Catching the
disappointment that apparently was written all over Dean’s face—at
least that was what it felt like—his voice softened, and he added,
“Look, Dean, we’re both fresh out of crap relationships. I, for my
part, have no intention of jumping right into the next one, and as for
friends, you’re a nice guy but I’d rather keep the people I befriend and
those I fuck with separated from now on.”
Those. That was a plural, right? “I see. So what you’re suggesting
is essentially… What?”
“You do your thing, I do mine, and when we have the time and
the…desire, we can meet, scratch the itch and go back to doing our
own things.”
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe it will work?”
Caelan met his gaze at last, looking only marginally less sceptical
than Dean felt. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
* * * *
During the weeks that followed, they did an unforeseen amount of
finding out. Caelan had been absolutely right about one thing—they
were a good match sexually. He had been less accurate about the
doing individual things part. They met rather frequently, and not just
to finish Dean’s tattoo and discuss strategies to save Caelan money on
taxes. They had been spending the nights after Dean’s tattoo sessions
together right from the start, but soon more shared nights followed.
And contrary to what Caelan had said initially, they were acting a lot
like friends. A little while ago they had even started watching movies
together on the sofa—Dean stretched out and Caelan curled up. More
often than not, they forgot all about the film when something got them
started talking.
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75
They had discovered early on that they shared a surprising amount
of tastes in spite of the great differences in their backgrounds. Dean
had been born as a long-awaited, single child to loving, devoted
parents and never had to ask for anything. Whatever he wanted had
been made available. Caelan however had never even met his parents.
Growing up in homes and foster families alternately, he had learned
from a very early age on that the only one he could rely on was
himself. His twin sister was the only other person he trusted. The fact
that they had at times been separated by the authorities was something
that could bring his blood to the boil like little else.
Unlike him, she had apparently found her happy ever after as a
loving, devoted wife and mother of two. She had been very friendly
when Dean met her by chance in Caelan’s studio although she had
given him a curious look after they had been introduced. Dean had
never quite figured out what it was and Caelan, when asked, had just
shrugged it off.
Two months to the day after Caelan had put the first drops of ink
into Dean’s skin, Dean’s tattoo was about to get finished. The thought
made him both jittery with anticipation and sick with apprehension.
Caelan's taxes had been dealt with, and although Dean had managed
to squeeze a bit more out for him, he had found that Caelan had been
doing a reasonably good job as an accountant so far. With the clues
Dean had given him, he'd certainly be able to cope on his own from
now on.
This meant that the tattoo was his main link to Caelan, a
commitment that ensured their contact. What would happen when this
obligation no longer existed? Would the fragile friendship they’d built
be strong enough to survive without this crutch or would they finally
be doing what Caelan had planned for them all along—each busy with
his own thing and meeting only whenever need drove them to each
other? If that happened it was probably only a matter of time until at
least one of them found somebody else. In all likeliness, it would be
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Caelan who found somebody else first. It wasn’t as though he was
lacking opportunity, after all.
Whenever Dean went to meet him in his studio, there was at least
one individual of either sex present staring at Caelan with open
admiration, while waiting for an appointment or taking a break during
a tattoo session. So far, Dean was fairly certain that everything that
happened between Caelan and his customers was strictly business-
only. Caelan even joked about how he sometimes thought he got to
see more bare skin and private body parts than the average physician,
but Dean was still very much aware of the fact that there was nothing
that would keep Caelan from accepting any of the offers he
doubtlessly received. Well, there would never be anything to keep
him from that anyway. As it was, they were still not only not in an
officially exclusive relationship but didn’t even have an official
relationship in the first place. So, there wasn’t even a moral obligation
that could hold Caelan back.
As usual, Dean entered the shop with mixed feelings. Happiness
about seeing Caelan coupled with annoyance about seeing the usual
clientele. Well, maybe not annoyance. Rather…jealousy. To his
surprise, there was no one in apart from Steve, who had long since
stopped trying to chat up Dean.
“Hi, Steve,” Dean greeted. “Is Caelan in the back?” Even though
Caelan had invited him to do so more than once, Dean still refused to
call him by his nickname, Cay. He didn’t even really know why, just
that he didn’t like it. To him Caelan remained Caelan. The man who
let down his guard on occasion and had told him in a broken voice
about what it was like to grow up never knowing what new foster
home he was made to live in next, not the easygoing tattoo artist who
laughed and joked with everybody.
“Um, no.” For the first time since Dean had met him, Steve
looked shifty and at a loss for words.
“Well, where is he?” Probably across the road, getting his next
caffeine fix. Caffeine and Caelan belonged together like fuel and fire.
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77
“He’s…um, he is…” Steve slowly turned beetroot, a colour that
contrasted nicely with his currently white-blond Mohawk. “He asked
me to tell you that he won’t be able to keep today’s appointment.”
“Why not? What happened?” Dean perked up. Caelan had never
cancelled on him before. In fact, he was very particular about seeing
his clients at the arranged times and wouldn’t normally cancel an
appointment unless he’d lost the arm he needed to hold the tattoo gun
with.
“Nothing…happened. He just…something came up, I guess, and
he took the rest of the day off, that’s all. He said I should just set
another date with you, so, um, how about next Tuesday?”
“Next Tuesday?” Dean repeated, gobsmacked. That was almost an
entire week away, and he really wanted to know what was going on.
Needed to know it. Scowling at Steve, he realised that the poor guy
didn’t know what to do with him. He clearly knew more than he was
letting on, and Dean was fairly certain that he would be able to make
him talk if he really wanted to, but he also knew that the one he really
should talk to was Caelan. Needed to talk to. He sighed. “Okay, I’ll
take the appointment. What time?”
“After closing hours, as always. Um, I’ll pencil you in for seven
thirty, okay?”
“Sure. Tell him to give me a ring or a knock on the door when you
see him, would you?”
“Of course.”
* * * *
Two days later there had been neither a ring nor a knock on the
door. Dean had caught an occasional glimpse of Caelan’s blond head
as he walked past the studio, but so far he had been reluctant to go in
and corner him on his own turf. Something was off, that much was
clear. It was entirely unusual for Caelan to leave work early, just as it
had become unusual for him not to check in with Dean for a full
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three—four, Dean corrected himself—days. They normally talked at
least every other day and seeing as Dean had asked Steve to…
Dean groaned and irritably flung the book he’d been forcing
himself to read into a corner. He was being childish. Childish and,
what was worse, a coward. Whatever it was that Caelan was brooding
over, beginning to brood, too, was not going to get Dean any nearer to
solving his problem. He got up, put on his shoes and coat, grabbed his
keys, and left his flat. It was already past ten in the evening but he
knew that Caelan would still be up. He never went to bed before
twelve. Unless he wasn’t alone of course. Dean smiled at the
memories. Maybe if they’d gotten whatever this was about out of the
way and Caelan was in the mood, he could stay for a bit longer.
Caelan was always in the mood. In fact, it seemed that whenever the
two of them got together, they both were in the mood. Or got there
within a ridiculously short time of just being with each other. Dean
knocked on the door. And knocked again after a while. Just as he was
beginning to believe that Caelan wasn’t in, the door was opened, but
the guy who peered at him critically was not Caelan.
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Chapter 8
“Uh, hi,” Dean said while a hundred thoughts were racing through
his head. Had Caelan mentioned having a brother? No. And this was
definitely not his sister. There still might be a logical explanation
though. Yeah, right.
“Hi there. What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for Caelan.” He checked the other guy out. Of
course he did, he wanted to know who he was dealing with. In case he
was dealing with someone in a way that required knowing who he
was dealing with. The man was quite attractive, about Caelan’s age
and of a similar build, though overall lighter and lacking Caelan’s
effortless natural grace. His expression was carefully guarded as he
looked Dean up and down in the undisguised attempt to assess him.
Assess and…assess. “And you are…?”
“His neighbour.”
“Oh. Okay.” The man smiled disinterestedly and turned his head
to the inside of the flat. “Cay, pup, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“Your neighbour apparently.”
Muttering something under his breath, Caelan appeared in the
doorway, seemingly tired and uncomfortable. He dropped his gaze as
soon as his eyes met Dean’s.
“Hello, Caelan.”
“Hey.”
Dean tried to bite back his annoyance and keep his emotions from
resonating in his voice. Maybe he was trying too hard. At least to his
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own ears he sounded like he was training to become a ventriloquist. “I
hope this isn’t too bad a time. Do you have a moment?”
“Uh, sure.” Caelan didn’t look half as convinced as he sounded.
And already that wasn’t much. From the resigned slump of his
shoulders, the angle of his head right down to the troubled expression
in his eyes, he was guilt made flesh. It didn’t help that the only
clothes on him were a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and socks and
that his skin had a light sheen to it. At least that other guy was still
fully dressed. Still likely being the operative word.
Noticing Dean and the stranger ogle each other like a pair of
angry bulls trying to weigh up the opponent, Caelan ran his fingers
through his hair and sighed. “Dean, this is Craig. Craig, Dean.”
Neither of the two said anything. Caelan took a deep breath. As did
Dean. So this was the infamous Craig. That at least explained why he
acted as though he was at home in Caelan’s flat.
“I’ll just, uh, get my shirt,” Caelan said, sheepish. Guilty.
Not taking his eyes off Dean, Craig called after him, “Put on
something warm.”
Caelan was back in record time and a thick hooded sweater.
Without saying a word he followed Dean up the stairs to Dean’s flat.
Dean let them in and went through to the living room. Ignoring the
sofa, he remained standing. He couldn’t possibly sit down now, he
needed to move. He needed to do something, anything to vent his
anger. No, not anger… He examined the feeling gingerly. Frustration.
Regret. Bitterness. Pain. Yes. Pain. Lots of it. A sharp, searing
sensation in his chest that made it hard to breathe.
Watching Caelan, who had taken an immense interest in the carpet
and stared at it as though he was trying to memorise its pattern, Dean
wondered what he had done to deserve the perverted irony of finding
this all-round perfect package of a man on his doorstep, literally, only
to discover that the contents had been damaged beyond repair.
“What is it?” Caelan had given up his studies in carpet design and
looked at Dean with a hangdog expression.
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“What is it?” Dean snapped. He hadn’t meant to, but he just
couldn’t help it. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Huh?” Caelan stared at him blankly.
“You go AWOL for two days and when you’re back, you’ve got
the one guy with you I was hoping would never get anywhere near
you again.”
The muscles in Caelan’s jaw flexed, his classic nervous tic when
under tension. “So what?”
“So what? So that’s the bastard who’s been cheating on you for
years and instead of kicking his bony arse to the moon you take him
back in and…” Dean let out an angry growl. “Just thinking about him
putting his hands all over you makes me sick.”
Caelan’s face was void of any emotion. “And what’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me?” Dean realised he was getting into his own
nervous tic routine again and echoing what was being said. He really
had to get a grip on that. Later.
“I know you said what was between us was just about sex. It’s not
what I wanted, never was, but I accepted it because it was what you
wanted. I thought I could handle it, but honestly, I can’t. I’ve no idea
if that is because it’s him of all people, but really, Caelan, this is
driving me insane. You’re by far the most amazing guy I’ve ever met,
no, make that the most amazing person, but you’re so twisted, I don’t
think you even realise how much that man has messed you up.
Remember when we talked about fidelity? I thought we were on the
same page there, I thought there was something between us, Caelan,
something good, something special. I know you don’t want to have a
proper relationship anymore but the way it was these past weeks… I
really believed you could put the past behind you but it seems that
whenever we’re about to come close, something goes wrong. And
stop staring at the fucking carpet, that’s not going to give us any
answers!”
Jerking his head up, Caelan stared at Dean defiantly. “What
answers do you want?”
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“How about what happened that first morning? I think that’s when
it all started going wrong.”
Caelan nodded miserably. “Very true. Nothing. Everything.” His
voice was hollow. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“I thought you were regretting it and just wanted to get rid of me
as fast as possible.”
“Get rid of you? Why? And why would I have been regretting
anything?”
“Well, you were so…distanced.”
“So were you. You were the one who couldn’t leave fast enough,”
Caelan reminded mercilessly.
“But only because you said you had to go to work and that you
didn’t want to see me that night and were busy on Sunday. It sounded
a lot like you just wanted me gone and—”
Caelan interrupted him with a sharp intake of breath. “I finished
work at eleven that night! Do you really think I was up for making a
social call at that hour? I’d barely slept the night before as you might
recall, and I was just dead beat. Besides, yes, I did need a little space
and time to think about what we’d done. Believe it or not, but I don’t
usually fuck with a guy I’ve only just met. And about Sunday, I told
you I had plans that day. I promised my sis to look after her kids, and
if you hadn’t been so pissed off with me all of a sudden I would have
told you that just as I would have told you that I’d like to see you
again as soon as I could. And when I did see you again, you were
snogging another guy. What do you think I thought about that?”
Squirming, Dean let out a groan. “I know. I know what that
episode with Arthur must have looked like to you, but I swear it was
just that one kiss and I didn’t even want that in the first place.”
Suddenly looking weary, Caelan let out a deep, resigned sigh. “I
know.”
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
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83
Caelan gave a half-hearted shrug. “I bumped into him when he
was on his way out, and he grumbled something along the lines that I
was welcome to have you seeing as you apparently picked just about
anybody over him or something like that.”
“So you’ve known all along that there was nothing between us?”
That of course would explain why Caelan had never seemed to carry
any grudges about it.
“Yep.”
“Well, great. You could have said something.”
“Why should I? He had his tongue down your throat, so if you
wanted to talk about it, you should have brought it up.”
“I suppose you have a point there,” Dean admitted unhappily,
hating to recall the moment and the memory of that kiss. “Arthur is
just a guy from work. I knew he’d been chasing after me for months,
but I thought he knew I wasn’t interested in him. I guess he figured
that he might stand a chance after I split up with Phil, and I never
should have let him come around, let alone allow that kiss to happen
but… oh, I don’t know. This probably sounds frightfully lame, but I
was just glad that someone still wanted to talk to me after you blew
me off on Saturday morning.”
“Don’t blame this on me,” Caelan snapped tetchily, indignation
flaring up again. “I didn’t blow you off.”
“I’m not blaming this on you, just… To me it felt like you were
avoiding me but maybe I got that wrong. I’m sorry,” Dean said,
feeling sheepish as he was beginning to see Caelan’s side. “I know I
overreacted. I just really didn’t know what to make of the whole
situation, what you’d expect me to do. I haven’t exactly got much
experience in waking up in a stranger’s bed either as you know.”
Caelan’s expression softened and he let out a little huff. “Oh
Dean, I know. I know that and the way I see it, we both didn’t know
how to handle the situation and we both handled it completely wrong.
We were both overworked, overexcited, and out of our depths. What
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happened between us… I didn’t mean for that to happen, but you
made it so wonderfully easy and I just got carried away.”
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t aware that I was pushing you. In fact I was
under the impression that I was running in open doors,” Dean said
defensively, but Caelan wasn’t starting another attack. He just sighed
miserably and rubbed his neck. “Dean, I’m not blaming you. It’s just
that…the intensity, that level of intimacy between us… I wasn’t ready
for that,” he admitted. “The morning I met you I woke up promising
myself that I’d never get involved with someone again and that I was
going to only have casual sex to get my rocks off. But by the time I
fell asleep that night, I was falling head over heels in love. How do
you think that made me feel? I was scared witless. I’d just put two
years of having my heart bruised on a daily basis behind me only to
fling it at the feet of the first guy I talked to who wasn’t a customer.
What scared me the most was realising that after just one night, you
had the power to hurt me far more than Craig ever did with all the
times he cheated on me. I knew he was screwing around and I didn’t
like it, but it didn’t hurt. Not the way seeing you with—Arthur, is
it?—did. I couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, still
can’t. I’m sorry if I messed up, but I was just too much of a coward to
face that truth.”
“You’re scared you’d get hurt when you’re with me so you rather
ended it altogether?”
“I thought that way it wouldn’t hurt quite so much,” Caelan said
quietly.
“Yeah, and because you don’t like to get hurt, you take him back
in!” Dean’s temper was still too close to the boil for him to catch up
with all of Caelan’s words and their meaning.
“Dean.”
“Seriously, we could have—”
“Dean.”
“No, let me say this. If you had—”
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85
“Dean! Shut the fuck up now for a second, would you?”
Amusement and exasperation tangoed across Caelan’s face.
“What? Why? I’m in full flow, just let me finish…” Dean fell
silent when Caelan, entirely inappropriately given the situation,
started laughing. “You certainly are in full flow, sunshine. Just please,
drop your voice by an octave or so, ’cause my ears are ringing
already.” Caelan took a step closer, smiling. “Whatever you were
about to say about us and what there is between us, hear me out first,
okay?”
“But—”
“Shh.” Caelan put a finger to Dean’s mouth, blocking the words.
“Listen. Am I right assuming that you think I’m back with Craig, or at
least, that I’m having sex with him again?”
Dean huffed in irritation. “Well, I’m not stupid and it’s not exactly
hard to put two and two together.”
“Hmm. No, you’re not stupid. Maybe just a little…” He bit back
whatever end that sentence had originally been supposed to have and
instead asked, “What exactly are the twos you’re putting together
here? Or should I ask who?”
“Your unaccounted absence, you don’t talk to me for days, he’s in
your flat, you’re half naked—and smell of massage oil, coconut for
Christ’s sake! What would you think of it? And I don’t think I need to
point out who the two are that I’m putting together in this scenario.”
Caelan regarded him pensively. “I see your point,” he admitted.
“And I’ve been where you are more than just one time too many, so I
know exactly how it sounds, but this time things really aren’t what
they seem to be.”
“Oh, not? Well, what are they? Were you just trying out cocktail
recipes or what?” Dean could have happily slapped himself for that
case of unfortunate choice of words but well, he was in full flow.
A weak smile tugged at Caelan’s mouth. “No. No cocktails. And
just so we’re clear, there were neither cocks nor tails involved.” He
took a deep breath, likely getting ready to launch into what was going
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to be a long explanation. Whether it was going to be believable, too,
remained to be seen.
“You know about the trouble I’m having with my back. It’s been
getting worse in the past two weeks, so bad in fact that I just couldn’t
bear it anymore two days ago. The thing is, Craig is my massage
therapist. Well, he used to be. I meant to switch to Anne Dobbs after
we split up. When I went to see her on Tuesday, it turned out that
she’s on holiday, so the only option I had apart from taking sick leave
for the rest of the week was seeing Craig, so that’s what I did. He's
spent the last two evenings trying to restore me to a level where I can
at least work without hurting so much that I have to constantly pop
painkillers.”
Dean’s brain slowly processed this entirely unexpected
information. The explanation was simple enough and admittedly,
entirely logical and now that he thought about it, Craig Anderson was
indeed the only massage therapist in town apart from Anne Dobbs.
And he knew all about Caelan’s continuing trouble with his back, a
combination of an unfortunate predisposition and a job that required
him to work in awkward positions for hours. And then there were the
awkward positions Dean had kept putting him in for the past weeks…
“So you… He…”
“Massaged me. My back. Hence the sweatpants and no shirt. And
the massage oil. The coconut scent is… Well, I like it. It helps me
relax. It reminds me of the Caribbean, blue water, white sand, palm
trees…” Caelan’s voice trailed off.
“But… Why didn’t you say anything? Why just blow me off on
Tuesday without a proper explanation? And why haven’t you spoken
to me since?”
Caelan took another of those long, meaningful breaths and let the
air out on a long, meaningful sigh. “Because on Tuesday night, I
thought I was just going to see Anne. I quit early and hoped to be
back on time for you, but she wasn’t in and I had to track down Craig
and after that… I didn’t feel good about seeing him.”
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87
“You could have just told me,” Dean said. Did he believe
Caelan’s story? Yes. Even if the explanation hadn’t been such a
simple but entirely convincing one, the expression on Caelan’s face
told him clearly enough that he wasn’t lying. Besides, he didn’t have
any reason to lie to Dean in the first place. He had made it clear from
the start that they weren’t exclusive. There had never been any
promises made, but as it turned out, Caelan had taken the relationship
he claimed they didn’t have far more seriously than he’d said he
would. As had Dean.
Caelan nodded unhappily. “I know. And I probably should have.
But you see, the thing is, I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Why? Because you thought I wouldn’t believe you?”
“Nn-nn. I know you would have believed me. You believe me
now, after all. No, the reason I didn’t tell you is that I wanted you to
think that there was something going on with him.”
“What? Are you insane? Why would you want me to think you
were having an affair?”
A curious expression gleamed in Caelan’s eyes. “Can’t you
guess?”
Dean huffed, struggling to get a grip on his anger. There was a
logical explanation for this. There better had be or… “No. No, in fact
I can’t guess why on earth you would want me to believe you were
having an affair. Most people try very hard not to lead their partners
to believe that—”
The sudden triumphant look on Caelan’s face stopped him mid-
rant. Just why did Caelan look so pleased, so…
“Oh.” Dean felt his heart trip and then speed up as the words he
had just said came back to him one by one like dropped pennies. All
of the words. “Oh. Sorry, I meant—”
“Shush. I know what you meant.” Caelan smiled at him, eyes full
of tender amazement. “That’s exactly why, Dean. I needed to know
how you feel about us.”
“Why didn’t you just ask?”
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“Because people don’t always tell the truth.”
“Oh, Caelan.” Cupping Caelan’s face, Dean looked at him. “I’m
not Craig, okay? I would never lie to you and I would never cheat on
you. Why would I when you are all I could ever wish for?”
Caelan sucked in a shuddery breath. “Do you… Do you mean
that?”
“Every single letter of every single word,” Dean said earnestly.
“And if that’s not enough to convince you, well, then I guess you’ll
just have to read my lips.” Still holding Caelan’s face between his
hands, Dean leaned in and pressed the softest of kisses on that sweet,
troubled mouth. Well, he’d intended it to be soft, but somehow it
became a lot…firmer along the way, and once Caelan started
responding, the kiss turned hard, demanding, and scorching. Their
tongues became engaged in a frantic flirt and impatient hands tugged
at clothes that were no longer needed. There was still so much that
should be said, but burning with sudden desire, their bodies were
already confirming what their minds had yet to accept. They were
made for each other. They were perfect together and knew the other
well enough to make more words unnecessary. There would still be
time to talk. Later. An indefinite time later.
Without breaking the kiss, Dean steered Caelan backwards and
through the narrow doorframe to his bedroom. Caelan didn’t even
open his eyes as he allowed himself to be led in that slow,
synchronised dance of bodies asking and responding. He sank back on
the bed with a soft moan. Dean followed him smoothly, keeping his
body in close contact with Caelan’s. The last pieces of clothing—two
pairs of socks and Dean’s boxers—went unceremoniously over the
edge of the bed.
“I’ve been missing you,” Dean whispered huskily and continued
flicking his tongue over the black ink lines on Caelan’s neck. He was
fairly certain that it would take him some time yet to trace every
single line of every single tattoo on Caelan’s body but it was an
ambition he was very much looking forward to fulfilling.
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
89
“It’s only been…uh, three days.”
“Four. And that’s four days too long.” He bit the rim of Caelan’s
left ear right between the two metal studs, smiling at the needy
whimper it drew from Caelan.
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. Now shut up and let me ravish you.”
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Chapter 9
Dean licked a line from Caelan’s neck to his left nipple, the one
with the piercing in it. He loved the way the little nub was forced to
always stand to attention, loved to feel the contrast of the hard,
unyielding metal embedded in supple, highly sensitive human flesh.
Caelan let out a sharp hiss as Dean’s teeth dug in none too gently, but
instead of flinching away, he pushed back, begging for more.
Yes, Dean had come to understand why people liked their
piercings, and he was definitely beginning to grasp the concept of
strategically placed pieces of metal. It was a long way to having one
in his own flesh but the thought had lost its scariness, and he was
fairly sure that he would be okay with it if Caelan really decided to
get the one he was considering. More than okay, actually, although
how they were supposed to get through the two weeks Caelan would
be out of order was beyond him. They’d just have to make up for the
lost time afterwards.
He teased his way further down, leaving a moist trail of kisses on
Caelan’s pale and black skin. By the time he reached his goal, he
could feel Caelan virtually vibrate with need. Caelan pushed up as
soon as Dean’s lips touched the head of his cock and Dean took him
in deep. As much as Caelan loved getting fucked through the
mattress, he clearly also appreciated Dean’s skilfully administrated
blow jobs a lot. And while he adored getting fucked just after he’d
been sucked off, there was nothing that brought him off like having
front and back stimulated at the same time.
Dean found the spot easily, that little, well-hidden entrance to
Caelan’s body and pushed in. Caelan groaned at the intrusion but he
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
91
took it fairly easily. Dean had already found out that the increased
friction the absence of lube caused made it more intense for Caelan
and heightened his arousal. It required more caution on Dean’s part,
but that was a small price to pay in return for bringing his lover this
exquisite pleasure. He pushed in deeper, searching for that little nub
of spongy tissue, spurred on by Caelan’s ragged, harsh breaths.
Nothing got Caelan going like having that particular sweet spot
stimulated.
He was beautiful in the uninhibited enjoyment of his lust and
Dean loved being the one who could take him there. The sense of
power that inflicting this immense pleasure on another person gave
him was exhilarating. Being able to do this for Caelan made him feel
connected to him in a way he had never experienced before. Certainly
not with pristine, conventional Phil who would never have allowed
himself to be touched this way.
Caelan capitulated within minutes. Head tilted back, eyes closed
and skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, there was no doubt that he
was thoroughly overexcited already even without the husky little
gasps spilling from his lips. “Fuck me, Dean, please!”
Dean wriggled his fingertip again and Caelan’s eyes rolled back.
“Yes!” He pushed up instinctively, almost choking Dean who could
take a lot, but not all of the lot Caelan was to take.
“Please, Dean. Plee-ease!” There was no way Dean could resist
this sweet pleading. Nothing in the world could keep him from
fulfilling his lover’s wish. Nothing except…
“Oh fucking hell!” he burst out, making Caelan almost jump right
off the bed in fright.
“What?”
“I haven’t… I’ve run out of condoms.”
“You have what?” Caelan briefly tried to sit up but thought better
of it. That angle would be uncomfortable to handle even for him.
“How can you run out of fucking condoms, of all things?”
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“Well, we used the last and I meant to buy new ones but then…
Fuck, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Caelan stared at him, eyes darkened with lust, breath coming in
heavy pants, and Dean was very sorry indeed. “I’ll do it this way,
okay?” he offered, but he knew it was a feeble substitution.
“Are you sure there are none left somewhere?” Caelan asked,
sounding close to desperate.
“Mm-hmm.”
The sound Caelan made was almost comical in its mix of infinite
arousal and despair.
“Maybe we could…” Dean started slowly. “Maybe we could do it
without.”
“Without a rubber?” Caelan looked far from enthusiastic, but
Dean was beginning to seriously consider the idea.
“Well, yes. If it’s okay for you. I mean, I know that I’m clean.
I’ve been with one guy only for the past six years and I got tested
when…when it was over between us.” He didn’t ask the obvious
question.
Caelan stared at him, thinking. “Well, I get tested on all the
important stuff every couple of weeks because of my job and I’ve
never done it without a condom in my entire life, so I think it’s safe to
say that I’m clean.”
“You’ve never…?”
“Nn-nn.”
“Oh. Good to know. So what do you think?”
Looking sceptical, Caelan took a breath. “I…trust you.”
Talking had killed some of the mood, but maybe that was a good
thing. The urgency was gone and Dean took his time applying the
lube to Caelan’s still tight hole and his own cock. There was an
almost devout expression on Caelan’s face as Dean lined himself up
and pushed in. The head of his cock brushed bare skin before it
breached Caelan’s muscles on the way inside, and the feel of the
velvety heat around him almost undid Dean right then. Clinging on,
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
93
he sighed in open appreciation. This felt good. He had come close to
forgetting just how good it felt. It was so much better without the thin
layer of latex separating them. He didn’t want to be separated, he
wanted to feel, wanted to be as close to Caelan as he possibly could.
Underneath him, Caelan groaned and flexed his hips, reminding
him of what they were supposed to be doing. Dean gave a gentle first
thrust, exploring. Caelan was still tight but ready. “Fuck, this is
good,” he moaned, meeting Dean’s next strokes eagerly, and a few
more thrusts later, the interruption was forgotten as they moved in
effortless synchronisation, each giving and taking everything they
needed until they couldn’t hold back any longer and climaxed almost
simultaneously.
They shared a last, long, lazy kiss before Dean sank down on
Caelan’s moist, heaving chest and rested his head on Caelan’s
shoulder. He was already going soft but hadn’t yet bothered pulling
out. It was good not to have to. Caelan seemed to think the same. He
flexed his muscles experimentally, as if trying to keep Dean inside.
“It’s…nice,” he whispered into Dean’s neck. “I didn’t think you could
actually feel the difference, but you can. Well, I can.”
“Oh, I can, too,” Dean assured him dreamily and raised his head
the fraction of an inch necessary to kiss the corner of Caelan’s mouth.
“Have you been doing it without all the time?”
“After the first few weeks, yes. When we agreed to be exclusive.”
Turning his head, Caelan looked at him, eyes gleaming. “Hmm.
Exclusive. It must be great to have that. To know that the other is all
yours and you are all his.”
“It is.” Dean took Caelan’s hand in his to make him stretch out his
arm and gently traced the lines of the word written in black ink on the
pale skin of his forearm. Trust.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?”
“Uh, I believe I said a lot. What part exactly?” Judging by the way
Caelan avoided Dean’s eyes he had a pretty good idea what Dean was
referring to.
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“That you were falling in love.”
“Oh. You heard that, did you?” Caelan bit his lip, looking
mortified.
“Loud and clear.”
“I did. Mean it, I mean, so yes, uh, I do. Still mean it, I mean.”
Dean chuckled. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re a bit
confused, my dear,” he teased softly and kissed the tip of Caelan’s
nose.
“Must be because of you.”
“Good.” Dean became serious again. “But speaking of I do, do
you… Would you like us to be exclusive?”
Caelan looked at him and smiled tentatively. “Isn’t that what we
have been all along?”
“Well, yes. I just thought that maybe we ought to make it
official.”
“Hmm. I like that idea. Official sounds good.”
“Okay, so we’re official then.”
“I thought we were exclusive?”
“Officially exclusive and exclusively official. Whatever you
want.” Smirking, Dean took Caelan’s hand in his and stroked each
long, fine-boned finger. “You know, for a guy with your occupation
you’re frightfully conventional.”
Following Dean’s motions, Caelan smiled. “Well, yes. When it
comes to relationships, I am quite astonishingly conventional.
Conservative. Boring, even.” His smile grew mischievous as he
watched Dean thoughtfully trace the third finger of his left hand with
his fingertips. “Just so you know, I might be conservative when it
comes to fidelity, but if you ever want us to become really official,
you should be aware that I know exactly what rings to get us and
where to put them. And it won’t be that finger.”
“I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you.” Dean
smiled down into those mesmerising grey-green eyes. “I love you,
you know that, right?”
Ink, Sweat, and Tears
95
“I thought so, but a girl never gets tired of hearing it.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Are you serious about the rings?”
“Yep.”
“Oh dear. Well, I suppose I could live with that, just… Are you
going to put them in?”
Caelan grinned. “I’ll do yours if you want. Mine, I don’t think
so.”
“You’re not planning that to be part of any official ceremony
though, are you?”
“Uh, no. I don’t need an official ceremony anyway. It’s enough
when we both know where we belong.”
“Oh, I know where I belong.”
“Where’s that?”
“Anywhere you are.”
THE END
WWW.SAGE-MARLOWE.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I've been dreaming about writing a book for, well, ever. But as it
is so often with dreams, reality got in the way in the shape of a mind-
numbing day job and an enormous lack of inspiration.
Then—rather unexpectedly, I admit—a very generous muse made
an appearance in my life, hand in hand with an incredibly persistent
character's appearance in my head. They just wouldn't be ignored and,
although it came as a bit of a surprise that said character was gay, it
explains a lot.
From that night on, writing took on a dynamic of its own. I've
become the willing slave to all those fascinating characters who want
their stories told and keep turning up sometimes faster than I can take
notes. This has resulted in several manuscripts at various stages of
completion, so I'm always working on clearing some much-needed
headspace and giving all the gorgeous guys who live in there the
happy ever afters they deserve.
My characters often have a dramatic, sometimes even traumatic,
past and have to overcome some mostly internal conflicts to be with
the one they love. The fact that they tend to get quite a bit of naughty
action along the way is, well, a very nice side effect.
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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