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Konrad lowered his forehead to Jasper’s. “I love you, and the heavens deemed me fortunate enough for you to love me as well. There is not a force in this universe that could take me from your side while I still live. If you cannot yet think of this place as your home, think of me as that. You belong wherever I am. That means your dogs, and your black-stained fingers, and all else that you dare to apologize for.” He pressed his nose against the side of Jasper’s, bringing their faces as close as he possibly could without kissing him. “Do you really think I could see a smudged tablecloth or chewed leg of my piano as anything less than a blessing, when it serves as a reminder that you’re in my life?”

“Konrad,” Jasper choked.

“I know you aren’t familiar with feeling as though you belong, but I intend to change that.” Konrad framed Jasper’s face with his hands. “Let me be your home, Jasper. Let me love you until you forget what it is to be alone.”

Jasper couldn’t get his voice above a whisper, too much emotion filling his throat to leave any space for his words, even as he smiled. “You already have.”

Six Months Later

Jasper was bent over his client when the door to the shop swung open, the bell chiming, and he heard Shariah call out, “Welcome to Blackwing Tattoo, what can I do for you today?”

His eyes narrowed with focus, tuning out anything but the glide of the needle on skin. The tattoo wasn’t his usual style. It was nothing but line work, and thin lines at that. He finished another red line and sat up to run his forearm across his forehead. Red ink didn’t age all that well and neither did such thin lines, but the man was stubborn and had said it would simply give him a reason to have Jasper touch it up as often as necessary.

But then, making up excuses to come back to the shop wasn’t anything new for Konrad. That was how they’d started.

Konrad sat with his arm on the armrest, his forearm turned up, part of it tattooed with outlined red roses and the rest still just the purple stencil. They were the same roses from the painting that now hung above their bed. One of their beds, anyway. Jasper had moved fully into Konrad's, but they’d kept Jasper’s place for when he wanted to go out on the lake, and to take the dogs somewhere they could run and swim.

“Those are some clean fucking lines,” said a familiar voice behind him.

He spun in his chair and found Hiyori leaning over the half wall separating his booth from the one that used to be hers. River had moved into Hiyori’s booth after she left, but it was River’s day off, so Hiyori was making herself at home, smiling down at Jasper and Konrad.

“I’m coming up this weekend to finish my back piece. Did you miss me so much that you couldn’t wait?” Jasper asked, but he was smiling at her unexpected presence.

“Amara wanted to have lunch with Riah, so I tagged along to see her, and my boys. And to make sure you guys haven’t run my shop into the ground.”

“Not yet. We’re trying, though.”

She grinned. Jasper and Shariah had taken over the lease when Hiyori left and they co-ran Blackwing Tattoo, with Shariah managing the socials, promoting and pretty much anything that required socializing, and Jasper kept the books. Hiyori’s absence was felt, but they made a damn good team and they’d really found their footing in the time since Hiyori had left.

Konrad had been an invaluable help, since he owned his own business too. The three of them had spent more than a few nights at the restaurant after closing, gathered around a table while Konrad walked them through the boring but necessary things they needed to know. He was a good teacher. Shariah thanked him for being European because she didn’t think she could have listened to all that if she didn’t like his accent so much.

Jasper knew the feeling, and to a far greater extent. Having that accent whispering in your ear? Fucking Christ.

Okay, he was disembarking from that train of thought before he got real unprofessional at work.

Hiyori hung around until Amara and Shariah got back, then gave Jasper and Konrad each a kiss on the cheek, telling Jasper she’d see him Saturday. His back now had not one but two swans, the second of which was still just lines, and they were doing shading on Saturday. He also had the moon phases going down his spine and she’d affectionately given him a hard time for him having the same tattoo as a million other people, but Konrad made up for it with the way he liked to run his tongue all the way from waxing to waning, and lower.

He finished Konrad’s tattoo—chosen because, in Konrad’s own words, he wanted Jasper to give him roses that he could keep forever—and sat back to admire it before cleaning it up and covering it with a sheet of Saniderm. “You sat like a rock, sweetheart. You did great.”

“You have a light touch.”

Jasper smiled. He took Konrad’s hand and squeezed it, looking at the gold cross that dangled from Konrad’s ear, the tiny thing that had allowed their paths to cross. Pictures of the two of them adorned the walls of Jasper’s booth now. One of them was from Vegas, a print of the same picture Konrad had made his lock screen.

Others were more recent, but in all of them, Jasper was smiling.

twenty-five

Two Years Later

Rome, Italy

Their week-long vacation to Italy was nearly over. They’d done it all. They’d visited the culinary school Konrad had attended, which was the first item on their agenda, and Konrad had indulged Jasper in all the touristy things like riding around the city on a Vespa, they’d visited the Colosseum—yeah, the Colosseum—and tossed two coins into the Trevi fountain. Their trip had originally been planned for a weekend, but Emily, a manager now, and a damn good one, had convinced Konrad she could handle the restaurant for him to take a week, and Jasper was glad she’d convinced him.

They’d watched the sunset from a new place every night. There were so many hills and bridges, and on their last night, Konrad took him to the spot he’d favored when he lived there during his schooling. It was perfect. Jasper’s stomach fluttered nervously as they climbed the hill and Konrad helped him over a short stone wall onto a travertine terrace, overgrown with moss and shaded by the vibrant pink blooms of the Judas trees.

They stood high above the city, watching the blood-orange sky turn magenta, and Jasper looked over at the man next to him. They were both still dressed up from dinner, Konrad in a dark red suit, and Jasper in black slacks that flowed out below his knees, and a black silk shirt with a V-neck that came to just below the moth inked on his chest. The back of the shirt was almost nonexistent, exposing the finished swans on his back. He’d also started on his right leg with a full calf piece, a black panther stalking downward, its tail reaching his knee and the lowest of its paws hitting just above his ankle.

He took Konrad’s hand. “I love you.”