When the bell over the door chimed, John glanced over the top of his magazine without bothering to drop his feet from the counter. Tall and balding with a full beard, the man walked over and examined the flash displayed on the walls, a slight frown creasing his face. Turning away he sat down on the black leather couch and picked up one of the portfolios, slowly examining the photographs. Idly John watched him. Definitely a bear. Bet he used to be good looking. Probably got 20 years on me now though, too bad. He grinned as he thought about the guy he’d brought home to his apartment above the shop the night before. Now that guy was a bear. Rowr. He stroked his own beard and grinned.

After a good half hour, the man finished scouring the books and approached the counter, clutching one of John’s portfolios in his hands. “Hi, I was wondering if the person that did these tattoos was here?”

John swung his feet off the counter. “That would be me actually. I’m John.” He offered his hand. “How can I help you?”

“Frank.” His grip was strong, and he held John’s hand a fraction longer than necessary. “I’m looking to get a tattoo, but honestly, I have no idea what I want.”

John grinned. “Well, I’m pretty good at helping people figure that out. Over half of the tattoos you saw in my portfolio I drew from customers’ ideas. Is there something in particular you would like it to represent?”

Frank took a deep breath. “Well, I wanted to get something that symbolized my husband.” His face didn’t change, but John could tell he was waiting for a reaction. John grinned and saw the man relax.

“Okay, well, have you thought about coming in together? Sometimes it’s easier to figure out when you have the other person’s feedback.”

Frank smiled, a little bit sadly. “He died sixteen years ago.”

“Oh.” What do you say to that? I hate talking to these old guys– their stories are all the same. “Um, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, it’s been a long time.” John breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I just want to get something to represent him, and how much we loved each other.” Again he shot a surreptitious look at John, and again seemed satisfied with what he saw.

“Ok.” John leaned back, grabbed a notepad and nodded towards a chair. “Have a seat and we can talk and I’ll take some notes.” Please don’t have a sob story.

Frank sat down dubiously. “Can you come up with a tattoo just from talking about him?”

“Believe it or not, I can.” He winked at Frank. “Ok, so - I’m sorry, what was his name?”

Frank smiled. “Conner. His name was Conner.”

“Ok, Conner. Tell me about him. What was he like?”

“Well, he was this great big man, but he was fast, very fast, and very strong. When I met him he was stacked, he had these unbelievable muscles, and the biggest hands I’d ever seen. I always said he reminded me of an elephant. But he could do the most delicate things, like paint these teeny tiny miniatures. And he was so fucking smart.” He paused and smiled a little. “He always laughed when I called him an elephant, and of course I always made a point to say it when he was painting with those teeny tiny brushes.”

John nodded and scribbled notes on his pad. “How did you meet?”

Frank leaned back in his chair. “Actually, we ran into each other for the first time at the Folsom Street Fair in the late eighties – for real. I tripped on another guy’s boots and fell right into him. He was so fucking hot, and all he had on was this pair of leather chaps and sunglasses.”

John was silent, imagining the scene, and it took him a minute to realize that Frank had stopped talking and was watching him with a mischievous grin twisting his lips, which John returned. “So what happened then?”

“Are you sure you want all of the gory details?” Frank’s grin grew wider and he narrowed his eyes.

Ok so maybe this guy isn’t all that stuffy. John shifted and leaned back in his chair, letting his legs fall apart as Frank’s eyes drifted down his body to his crotch. “Full version buddy, lay it on me.”

“Well, after I crashed into him he gave me this shit-eating grin and had me up against the side of a building before I knew what hit me. He had my tongue down his throat for a good five minutes, and of course I gave as good as I got.”

John grinned and adjusted his pants, not bothering to hide his erection. “Shit, I’ve always wanted to go to the Folsom Street Fair, but I haven’t made it out yet. So you guys fuck right then?”

Frank laughed and shook his head. “No, he got dragged away by leather queen with a whip, and before I knew it they were swallowed up by the crowd. I figured I wouldn’t see him again, but I ran into him later on at a bar on Castro Street. I recognized the tattoo on his back and figured turnabout was fair play, so I grabbed him around the neck and ground my hard-on into his ass. Then I bit his neck and the guy he was talking to started laughing so hard he spilled his beer all over us.”

By this time they were facing each other and Frank put the toe of his boot up on John’s chair between his legs. John swallowed. Ok, definitely not an old fogey.  “Was Conner pissed?”

“Oh, he was pissed about the beer on his chaps, but he saw who it was he dragged me behind one of the speakers and had my pants down so fast the leather pulled out my hair. I shoved my dick down his throat, and he was rolling my balls between his fingers. Then he shoved a finger up my ass and I lost it. I could hear him gulping as I blew my wad.”

Fucking hell. This time when John adjusted his pants it was out of necessity. “Were you guys both living in California?”

Frank shook his head. “It was weird. I had lived here for five years before I went to Folsom, and Connor was in the process of moving out here to run the botanical gardens. When I heard that I gave him my number so we could get together.”

I bet you did. “So you guys were together from that point on?”

 “Nah, for a while we just hooked up off and on. He liked to stop by my job, always when I was busy, to check on his ‘stock portfolio’. Luckily for us, I had my own office with a door that locked.”

John chuckled. “Okay, so what changed things?”

Frank dropped his boot to the floor and John noted with surprise that his face had become somber.

“One night I decided to stop by the gardens and surprise him. It had been a long week and I wanted to start the night off with a good fuck and then hit the clubs. He was at his desk, head down, and his eyes were swollen. That was the first time I had ever seen him look old. When I asked what was wrong, he told me his ex had just died of pneumonia, which in those years meant AIDS complications.”

John refrained from rolling his eyes. Ah, here we go. Curiously, he didn’t feel as disinterested as he usually did though.

“We ended up going to his house that night, and for the first time I just held him without it being sexual. After that it was a gradual evolution, I stayed at his house, he stayed at mine, we moved in together.” Frank’s eyes were moist.

John cleared his threat, feeling intrusive. “Ok, I think I have some ideas. Wanna give me a week and then see what I’ve come up with?”

Frank nodded and rose, then hesitated. “Just, well, remember how much I loved him. That’s what I never want to forget.”

John nodded as the door closed, then leaned back in his chair and frantically jerked off, cum spurting all over his hands. As he cleaned up, he thought about Frank and Conner. When he returned to his workspace his began to draw with an unaccustomed gentleness.

“Ok, so I did a bunch of rough sketches. The idea of an elephant really stood out to me, so here are a few elephants, one inspired by Folsom, and couple garden themed ones.” He gave the papers to Frank, who flipped through them silently. John watched his face. I was right; he’s not going to like them. “Do any of them catch the feeling of what you wanted?”

Frank slowly shook his head. “No. Shit, maybe this isn’t the way to go.”

John carefully pulled one more sketch out from underneath the counter. “I wasn’t sure about this one. I like it, but I wasn’t sure if it’s how you’d want to remember him.” He handed it to Frank.

In the lush tropical foliage an elephant was curled up, eyes closed. It was aged, the skin wrinkled, the eyes sunken, and one of the tusks was broken. It was shadowed by the plants, the flowers bending over it, almost as if it was nestled into the care of the jungle. A smile touched the corners of Frank’s lips.

“Yes, that’s it.” He ran his fingers over the drawing, tracing the curves.

John shivered as he watched Frank’s touch. “Ok, I’ll have a finished version ready for you next week and then we can get started on the outline.” He watched Frank caress the drawing. “So, tell me a little bit more about Conner. What did he like to do for fun?”

Frank looked up, misty-eyed, and smiled. “Dance, Conner loved to dance, and so did I. We were always in the clubs going wild. It was funny, even when we were barely together we’d both get down with any guy we wanted, and at the same time both keep an eye on the other. It always made me horny as hell to watch him make out with other guys, and at some point one of us would grab the other and we’d go up in the balcony and fuck. There were so many times I’d be sucking his dick, and he’d cum, then grin, zip up and go dance some more, leaving me there still on my knees. Of course, it worked both ways. It was really the fact that I loved to dance and flirt with other guys that finally got us together for good through.”

John casually eased the front of his jeans. Shit here it goes again. “How does that work? Flirt with one guy and get another?”

Frank smirked and crossed his legs, running the toe of his boot up John’s leg in the process, leaving it nestled in his crotch, and smiled as he watched John twitch. “Well, after we’d been hanging out for a while, I kinda noticed that he didn’t seem to be hooking up with other guys as often, but I didn’t think much about it. Then one night I was dancing with this Latino guy when out of nowhere Conner came up and yanked me away. The guy I was dancing with was pissed. Then he looked at Conner scowling at me, and at me glaring back at Conner, and instead of knocking Conner out he let go this big belly laugh and walked away.

“Shit, I was so fucking pissed. I grabbed hold of Conner’s leather jacket and dragged him off the dance floor and down to the end of the hall. I tried to shove him against the door, but he was too heavy for me to throw around, so I settled for cussing him out. Then he shoved me up against the wall, kissing me so hard I could taste blood on my lips. I really wanted to kick his ass, but somehow after a minute all I could do was kiss him back.”

John tried to shift and relieve the pressure from Frank’s boot on his swollen dick, but the toe of the boot followed, that smirk still on Frank’s lips. Shit. I’m gonna lose the ability to talk coherently in about a minute. “That’s how you got together?”

“Yup. Moved in together about four months later. All of my buddies thought I was jumping in shit creek without a paddle, ‘cause we sold both of our own houses to buy one together in the Waitsfield district. My friends said it wasn’t going to last, and laid bets Frank would try and take the house when we split up. Which they were sure we would.”

Finally Frank moved his foot and John released a silent sigh of relief. Damn, this old guy’s got my number. “But you didn’t.”

“Not even temporarily. In spite of his hard-ass attitude, he was the tenderest man I’ve ever known. Every time my birthday rolled around my co-workers would start asking me what kind of flowers I was gonna get, and every year it was this huge elaborate arrangement, crazier than the last. Someone always got to the card before I could and would read it out loud. He’d never sign his name but he’d write something on the card like, I love you Honey, have I got some wicked plans for you tonight! Conner got very creative with his cards.” A soft smile settled on Frank’s lips. “Of course he’d never be there when I’d get home that night, he’d just leave clues and I’d have to search him out.

“One time he left me this really long trail, and by the end of it I was pissed. He knew I would be too, because in one note he taunted, ‘Getting mad yet?’ I found him at the lake, in this little cove most people didn’t know about. When he saw me he got out of the water, totally bare-ass naked and dripping, and I fucked him right there in the sand.” He stood up abruptly, rubbing the side of his nose. “I’ll see you next week.”

“K’ man.” John watched the older man walk out of the shop, still rubbing his face. Wow, that still gets him. When he was gone, John sat there looking at the drawing of the elephant. He touched it reverently, tracing the curves. I wonder what it would be like to love someone that much - or lose someone I loved that much. He examined the drawing again, this time as an artist, then started the final drawing.

“How is it?’

“Amazing. I still can’t believe that you came up with this just from talking about Conner.”

John smiled “That’s my job.” He took the outline over to the copier to make a transfer. “Have a seat right there and we can get going on the outline.”

Frank took off his shirt, and John noted admiringly the muscles still prominent in his chest and stomach. My god this man is hot. He shaved the hair on Frank’s right bicep, watching with satisfaction as the front of Frank’s jeans rose. My turn. Then John turned his focus to his work, and delicately transferred the pattern onto the skin. Once he was satisfied with the placement, he picked up the gun and began outlining. Frank tensed as the needle began digging into his arm, and John watched as he tried to relax.

Better try to distract him a bit. “So, tell me something funny about Conner.”

“Hummm, well one of the best memories I have him is this one night when I met him at the botanical garden.” Frank started to grin and finally relaxed into the needle. “It was dark except for the moon shining through the glass all around us, and I was on my hands and knees in the dirt in front of these rose bushes. My face kept going into the roses, and the thorns pricked the hell out of me. Of course I didn’t tell him to stop, but I ended up getting a face full of scratches from that damn rosebush. Connor called me Rosie for weeks, and my co-workers teased me mercilessly, speculating on how I had gotten them.”

John busted out laughing and reached over to load his gun back up with ink. As he did, Frank rested his hand on John’s thigh, sliding it so his fingertips curved down to touch John’s cock. John swallowed as he met Frank’s eyes and then focused on keeping his colors inside the lines, conscious of the light touch on his erection. Finally, as if he could see the strain he was placing on John’s concentration, Frank moved his hand. From the corner of his eye John could see a self-satisfied smile on Frank’s face. Asshole.

When John finally finished he sighed in relief. “How does the outline look?”

Frank grinned as he examined it closely. “It’s perfect.”

John smiled and set aside the gun. “Okay, so next time you come in we’ll do any touchups it needs and then start on the coloring. Do you want the colors to be bright or muted?”

Frank frowned. “I really don’t know. I mean, he was a colorful person, but it’s a very quiet picture.”

John nodded. “Ok, well I’ll color an example in each style, and we’ll see which you like the best.” He started cleaning and bandaging Frank’s arm. As he did he could feel Frank’s fingers start rubbing his cock through his jeans. He took his time taping down the gauze, and then with a deep breath ran his hand up Frank’s chest, pulling Frank with him as he rose to his feet. Frank slid his arms around John’s waist and held him close, leaning against the wall as they kissed. The phone rang, and Frank jerked away, startled, but John roughly pulled him back, feeling the older man’s cock press into his groin. Oh no, you aren’t getting away that easily.

Still kissing him, John slid his hands down to unbutton Frank’s jeans, freeing his cock. It was thick with a dark mushroom head, and John sank down to his knees and took the shaft in his mouth, running his lips over the ridged veins. As Frank threaded his long fingers through his hair, John rolled Frank’s balls between his fingers, and with a hoarse gasp Frank shot his load in thick ropy spurts. John gulped it down, Frank’s fists clenched on his scalp. Yes, oh god, yes.

After John finished licking Frank’s cock clean, Frank pulled him up and kissed him, plunging his tongue deep in John’s mouth, tasting his own cum. Then Frank stepped away, zipped his jeans and pulled on his shirt.

John cleared his throat. “Ok, when you come back I’ll have those colored for you.”

Frank nodded with a grin, and gave John’s hair one last tug before turning and walking out of the shop, bandage brilliantly white in the sun.

After Frank left John took his time cleaning up his equipment. When he finally stopped shaking, he sat down with his markers and a copy of the drawing. He thought about Conner as a young man, full of life, and a younger Frank, passionate and dancing. He rubbed his dick through his jeans as he colored, thinking about the hair that descended down Frank’s chest into his jeans. I swear I will never make fun of another old queen.

“Bright. I like the bright colors better.”

Half of the drawing John had colored was bright and bursting with color, the plants reaching off of the page, the flowers brilliant, the shadows on the skin of the elephant deep. The other half was muted and retiring, sinking back into the paper. John smiled and pointed to the color palette he had already set out beside his machine. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Frank laughed and settled into the chair. “You’re good, very good.” His eyes ran down John’s body.

So are you. Rowr. “I know.” John laughed and set the gun humming. They sat in companionable silence for a while as John touched up the outline and started in on the colors. John watched Frank from the corner of his eye, then finally asked. “So, do you, um, mind if I ask how Conner died?”

Frank gazed out the window. John bit his lip and focused on his inking. Stupid, stupid. How rude can you be? You can guess how he died. John was so focused on his self-flagellation that when Frank started to talk he jumped and almost jerked the tattoo gun. He glanced up at Frank, but the man was still staring out the window.

“Well, we figured Conner’s ex had contracted AIDS long after they were together, and I guess we just assumed that we were safe because we were both healthy. We weren’t too worried when Conner developed a cough that just wouldn’t go away, because he was a smoker. Then he started to lose weight, and developed these weird purple lesions on his body. Turned out to be Kaposi’s Sarcoma. They got him in the hospital, and we found out that his T cell count was pretty low.” Frank stopped and took a shaking breath.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” John paused to wipe the outline and looked at Frank. “I’m sorry man. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Frank shook his head. “No, it’s ok. It’s been a long time.” He looked at his arm. “Damn, that’s looking really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.” John loaded up his gun and repositioned himself. “What did you guys do after you found out?”

“Well, we got him involved in some of the clinical trials they were doing, but the first meds they tried made him sick. I spent hours in the bathroom, holding him up so he could vomit again and again.” He rubbed his forehead.

John shook his head. “How did Conner deal with it all?”

 Frank gave a low chuckle. “Actually, Conner worried about me all the time, even when he was at his sickest. When we found out that for certain that I wasn’t infected, I was so relieved, but at the same time I felt so guilty. Why’d Conner been the one to get sick, and why hadn’t I? For a while I’d spend the little bit of time I wasn’t at work or at the hospital partying, hooking up, trying to chase away this specter of death I saw everywhere. Till one day I just stopped. It didn’t work no matter what guy I was with.”

Again he fell silent, and John focused on his inking. He was listening though, so when Frank started talking again he didn’t jump.

“The spring after he was diagnosed he seemed to be on the mend. We went down to the lake and I helped him make it down to our cove. Even though by that time it was pretty well known you couldn’t get AIDS by touching, he still didn’t want to me kiss him; he was so scared I would get infected. But I still held him. I rubbed his head; his hair was so thin. We just lay there in the sunshine. He kept telling me that I had to be healthy and live when he was gone. He was so skinny. I ran my hands over his ribs, and I could feel every single one. I just kept touching him. I wanted to remember everything about him.”

Frank’s free hand was unconsciously stroking his cheek as he talked, and his eyes were moist. John watched him, and bit his lip. You are so not going to cry; he’s not crying, you are definitely not going to.

“That was the last time we were able to go out; he died several weeks later. His family didn’t come to the funeral; they never responded to any of my letters and their phone had been disconnected. I don’t even know if they were aware he had died.

“I had his ashes for a year in our house, just sitting on the fireplace. Finally, the next spring I took him to our spot down at the lake. I sat there till the sun started to set, then I poured the ashes on the ground and mixed them with the sand. Then I threw them by the handfuls into the water.”

Frank’s voice faded wistfully. After a long time John said gently, “You must miss him a lot.”

Frank shook himself. “I do, I loved him so much, and I think about him a lot.” He looked at John. “But he wanted me to keep on living, and not just to be alive, but to live. And I have. I’ve had a few boyfriends, but no one has quite measured up to Conner.” His gaze was intent on John. John swallowed hard and focused on the shades of green in the leaves, conscious of Frank’s gaze.

When John finished he wiped the tattoo with alcohol, and sat back to inspect his work. “Alright, it’s done. How do you like it?”

Frank looked at it and his eyes misted over. “It’s gorgeous.” Delicately he touched it with the tip of one finger.

John wiped it again. “What – what would Conner have thought of it?” He focused on the tattoo, until Frank placed a fingertip under his chin and tipped his head up.

“Conner would say it was like you knew him.” Now John had to blink hard, and then they were kissing, Frank pulling John towards him, hands under his ass. Then John pulled away.

“Wait-wait.” Frank let go with a puzzled look. “I need to bandage that up – if I accidentally scratch it, than the tattoo can scar and mess up the ink.”

Frank roared and John blushed. “Ok, wrap it up, we wouldn’t want Conner to be unhappy with how it turns out.”

John bit his bottom lip to control his grin, and focused on cleaning and bandaging the tattoo, conscious of Frank’s eyes. Without raising his gaze he moved over to clean the gun and his equipment, carefully storing it away. Then – still without looking at Frank – he walked over and flipped the sign on his door to closed, then paused. Please want me the way I want you. Then he looked at the other man and felt a jolt at the amused, but very tender, grin on Frank’s face.

With a deep breath John walked over and took Frank’s hands, pulled him up from his chair, and led him up the stairs to his studio apartment. As soon as they were in the door they were kissing, John pulling off Frank’s shirt before he was pushed down onto the futon. Frank’s gasps were hoarse in his ear, and his weight held John down. Blindly John reached for the drawer in the small table beside the futon and grabbed a condom and lube. Then they were taken out of his hand, and Frank’s tongue was in his mouth.

They were both naked now, and John ran his fingers down the trail of hair he had eyed on Frank’s chest, brushing against Frank’s fingers and touching latex. Then there was cold lube on his ass as Frank used his slippery fingers to rim John’s asshole, and slowly eased his dick into John’s ass. John wrapped his legs around Frank’s waist and looked into his eyes. As Frank began to move faster their eyes remained locked. John reached up to pull Frank’s face close and rocked his hips to slam Frank’s dick deeper into his ass. Frank was growling as they tongue fucked, then John started to gasp as he came, hard, Frank seconds behind him.

After a long minute, Frank eased out of his ass, and they lay there gasping. Frank propped himself up on his elbow and smiled down at John. John returned the smile and traced Frank’s face with his finger, but shivered. Would Connor think I’m good enough for him?

“What?” Frank looked at him carefully. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just was thinking - “ he bit his lip. How the hell do I say I’m worried about what a dead man would think of me?

Frank drew his eyebrows together as he studied John, and then his face relaxed and he smiled. Touching John’s chin he drew their faces closer and murmured, “Conner would have loved you too.”

 

 

© 2009 Val Gryphin

Val Gryphin lives in the Green Mountains where she writes, draws, and works on her plot for world domination. She has previously been published in Tattoo Highway, Clean Sheets, Short Stuff Magazine, and Khimairal Ink, among others. You can visit her at http://valgryphin.com.