We’re down to our underwear, him in his plaid boxers and me in my boxer briefs. My skin is warm and flushed and tingling for more of his touch. Joey lays me on my back and runs his hand over my arm, tracing my tattoo. “What do you say? You want a little ink to mark the night?”
I think about for a second, then draw his hand down to my hip. “What about here?” I ask.
Joey grins, and his smile is lopsided with his puffy face. “Fuck yeah. Like I told you, most people can’t pull off a hip tattoo like you could.”
I laugh and wiggle my legs against his. “If you say so.” Next to me is agaillardia pulchella, a sundance flower, and I lift it to show him. The florets spin out from the center like a pinwheel, dark crimson petals that end in a flare of brilliant yellow. “Could you do this? Do you need a drawing?”
My cock strains against the taut cotton of my underwear, twitching in anticipation. Joey takes the flower and then slides his hands over my hips, across my belly and my happy trail, then softly over my erection. The soft petals whisper against my skin, and my muscles spasm as I throw my head back with a moan, my nerves already lit on fire.
“No drawing,” he says. “We’ll do the outline, finish the details later when I’m… less distracted.” He presses his face to my ear. “Be right back,” he growls.
I listen while he washes his hands and lie there quietly while he prepares the machine. My breath trembles, and my entire body is alive with anticipation. I know how talented he is, and it hits me that I really am going to be covered with his art, one flower at a time.
Fuck, how did I get so lucky?
Joey crawls over me, then straddles my legs. His meaty thighs strain as he hovers there, wiping my hip with a damp cloth. “I want to thank you, Milo.”
I twitch again, heat humming beneath my skin. “Thank me?”
“You’ve been so patient. It’s taken me a while to open up to you, to realize that I can tell you the truth. But you’ve stayed here, sweet and gentle and kind. It takes a lot of strength to be kind like that. A lesser man would have run away, but you didn’t. I promise, no more secrets. As long as you’ll have me, my life is yours.”
There’s a quiver to my breath, and I’m on the edge of crying. “Joey, of course. I don’t always feel strong. I haven’t always seen myself the way you see me. But I know I’m a better person because of you.”
“We’re better together,” he says.
“Together,” I agree.
Joey’s hands slide to my underwear, and he gently pulls them off. I’m naked, surrounded by flowers in the evening light. He starts by bending down and kissing my belly, my thighs, and around the space he’s about to tattoo. My cock twitches and leaks, yearning for his touch.
“You ready, beautiful?”
I nod. “I’m ready.”
He starts the tattoo machine, and the buzzing sends another tremble of pleasure through me. Carefully, Joey lowers it to the spot above my hip. The spark of the needle hits me, but I’m already washed over with waves of endorphins and the pure relief of his touch. As he carefully draws the dark amber lines of the petals, the sensations flow through me, mixing with my emotions and driving me deeper into myself, deeper into the night we’re sharing.
Joey’s mine, and I’m his, and so I give myself to his love.
* * *
Joey
It only takes about fifteen minutes to ink the round, flared petals onto Milo, on the tender skin above his hip. We don’t talk, but there’s something meaningful about the silence. He breathes and twitches beneath me, his naked body quivering as I add another touch of my art to his body. His cock pulses, leaking pearly drops, and I can feel our hearts beating with the same rhythm.
This is love. I never knew it before, but now that I have him, now that we’ve committed ourselves to each other, I know it’s true. Our pasts might have shaped us, but we’re going to shape the future together. It’s going to be gentle and kind, good in a way I never thought I deserved.
And I’m going to make sure he’s every bit as happy as I am.
I pull the needle back carefully. I’ve only inked the outline of the small flower, but we’ll have plenty of time to finish it. I wipe the skin, cleaning away the ink, then kiss the spot beside it.
“Beautiful,” I say.
Milo takes my hand. “Beautiful,” he repeats.
His eyes are wide, and there are drops of sweat on his temple. I squeeze his hand and rub my thumb across the back of his knuckles. The flowers are spread all around us, falling from the edges of the bed, and the floral scent lingers in the air.
“Will you fuck me?” Milo asks gently. “I got tested after my last boyfriend.”
My breath empties from my lungs. Fuck, I want him so bad. Just as bad as when we first hooked up.
