Pounding Skin

by L. A. Witt

  Colin smiled, and that smile did weird things to Matt’s pulse. Things he couldn’t begin to explain. Touching Daniel’s arm, Colin said, “Yes. You get to see it.”

  Daniel twisted around a little and gave a similar smile, and suddenly Matt got it. He’d envied them for a long time, but today it hit him someplace raw. Maybe it was because of his conversation with Troy, or maybe because he felt so terrible for Nate, or . . . hell, he wasn’t sure. He just caught himself longing for someone to look at him the way Daniel and Colin looked at each other.

  Matt shook himself as Daniel stood. So much for coming to the shop to clear his head.

  “That looks amazing, Colin,” Pete said, drawing Matt’s attention to Daniel’s new ink. The waistband of Daniel’s jeans covered the very bottom of the tattoo, but most of it was visible, and . . . wow. Colin’s talent never ceased to amaze Matt, and he’d outdone himself with this piece he’d done on his own boyfriend’s back. The group of gods shouldn’t have gone together the way they did. Norse, Egyptian, and Greek—they should’ve been incongruous, but somehow, Colin had made it work. The different styles complemented one another where in the hands of another artist they’d have clashed. And while the whole thing reminded Matt of a comic book cover—one those covers where all the characters are clustered together—it had a more classical appeal too. The movement was dynamic without being overly dramatic, and all the characters were proportioned like normal humans and shaded to be nearly photo realistic.

  Colin handed Daniel a small mirror to hold up so he could see the whole design in the bigger mirror on the wall without twisting himself into knots.

  As Daniel stood in front of the big mirror and held up the smaller one, everyone in the shop held their breath. Even Matt. This was it. This was the moment Daniel would finally see the completed piece.

  For a few long silent seconds, Daniel stared at the reflection. Matt’s heart pounded, so he could only imagine what Colin’s was doing. It wasn’t as if Daniel hadn’t seen the tattoo-in-progress, but the finished piece was different. A work-in-progress was allowed to have imperfections, because those would be fixed during the next session. Now there wouldn’t be a next session. Or if there was, it wouldn’t be for at least six months, since Daniel was heading to sea.

  “It’s . . .” He paused like he was starting to get choked up.

  Colin gulped. “You like it?” The hopefulness in his voice made Matt’s heart clench. He couldn’t imagine the nerves Colin had right then.

  Daniel raised the mirror again, gave the tattoo a long, reverent look, and whispered, “Fuck, man. It’s . . .” Slowly, his lips pulled into a smile, and everyone released their breath. Lowering the mirror, he turned to Colin and slid an arm around his waist. “It’s perfect.”

  Colin’s eyes lit up, and damn if Matt wasn’t choking up a bit too, especially as the guys pulled each other in for a long kiss.

  Matt turned away, ostensibly to give them some privacy. The other guys did too, clearing their throats as they pretended they’d all actually been working before peering in to see the newly finished ink.

  On autopilot, Matt took his sketchbook out from under the counter and flipped it to a blank page. A blank page that stayed blank because Matt’s mind was on Daniel and Troy and Jon and tattoos and . . . things he wanted more than he probably should have.

  Part of him wanted to sketch something with the idea of tattooing Jon, but that was just a fantasy. Jon would never agree to another tattoo. Still, it was hard not to let his mind wander into that fantasy world. It was hard to keep himself from imaging a world where something he drew would wind up on Jon’s skin, and Jon would look at it with the same reverence and emotion on his face as Matt had seen on Daniel’s as he looked at his finished back piece.

  I want to give you a tattoo that means as much to you as Daniel’s does to him.

  His heart sank. It was a fantasy. Nothing more. And not just because Jon’s needle phobia would keep him from ever getting another tattoo.

  Matt stared down at the blank page. Jon didn’t want anything that permanent. Not on his skin. Not in his bed. Not in his life. He wanted to enjoy things while they lasted, then move on like it was nothing.

  From behind him, he could hear Daniel and Colin speaking in hushed tones, and his throat tightened. Though he couldn’t understand the words, the tones said it all. Those two radiated adoration for each other. Even the knowledge that they’d be spending the next six months apart didn’t dampen their affectionate conversations.

  Matt’s throat tightened.

  Fuck the tattoo.

  Why can’t I mean as much to you as Daniel does to Colin?

  * * *

  After Daniel had left, Colin was quiet most of the day, but that was no surprise. Daniel’s ship was pulling out tomorrow, and he wouldn’t be back for six months, but still, Matt envied him. Not for the six-month separation, but for what was waiting at the end of it. It was going to be tough for the two of them to be apart for that long, but they’d wait for each other. They’d get through it.

  What Matt wouldn’t give for someone who’d wait for him for half a year. Instead, he had a man right down the street who may as well have been farther away than Daniel.

  It occurred to him that Jon would get deployed at some point too. And if he’d asked, Matt would’ve waited. Happily. But Jon wouldn’t ask. He didn’t want Matt to be waiting when he came home. While Daniel would probably be thinking nonstop about Colin, Jon would spend his first few days of deployment thinking about how many notches he was going to put in his bedpost before all was said and done. Matt doubted he’d cross Jon’s mind at all.

  The thought made his throat tighten, and he focused on his task—inventorying his ink bottles to see what he needed to order this week. It was so easy it was almost mindless, but he still kept losing his place and forgetting what he was doing.

  Balancing his clipboard on his thigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. If Colin could keep it together with Daniel going to sea, then Matt could sure as hell do the same when Jon said, “Our relationship is exactly what we agreed it would be.” Colin had a reason to be depressed. Matt was just stupid.

  He had to admit, even he was going to miss Daniel. Colin’s boyfriend was a nice guy, and who was Matt kidding? He, Lucas, and Pete all took great delight in teasing the two of them for being the lovebirds they were. Daniel and Colin were disgustingly adorable—they had been from the start—and they were good sports about the ribbing.

  Matt’s heart sank. Even if they’d been here now, eating lunch in the back like they did a few times a week, Matt wouldn’t have been able to come up with any of that ribbing. Nothing to give Colin shit about later. Nothing to say right now just to tease them. He had nothing except a weird, heavy weight swelling in the pit of his stomach.

  As hard at the deployment would be on Colin, Daniel had been a godsend for him. Matt couldn’t remember seeing Colin as strong as he’d been since Daniel came into the picture. Even when the two of them had fought—which rarely happened—he’d been okay. Angry, maybe. Withdrawn. But he’d cut out early from work, go talk to his therapist, and keep himself on the rails until he’d settled things with Daniel.

  Yeah, Matt was confident that Colin would be all right. It would be rough, and Colin would probably have some dark days and difficult weeks. But he and Daniel still had email, Daniel had promised to call as often as possible, and in six months, he’d be back. Knowing them, they’d pick up right where they’d left off, and be just as grossly in love as they’d been for months.

  And all Matt could think was . . . I want that.

  With that all too familiar lump rising in his throat, he realized what he wanted more than anything was for someone to want him the way Daniel and Colin wanted each other.

  And do you expect that someone to be Jon?

  Matt closed his eyes and sighed, trying and failing to push back the hurt. Thing was, he’d never been with someone who was closed off to things getting more seriou
s. He’d had casual flings with women. Sometimes they turned into more. Sometimes they didn’t. And yeah, in the beginning, sometimes they had the “this is just sex, right?” conversation. Which was fine—in the beginning. Because it never felt like the walls were impenetrable at that stage. It was more like an agreement to take the pressure off. Then if feelings came into play, they’d adjust accordingly and carry on, not reset the whole damn thing to its factory default and pretend that was how it had always been.

  Now that Jon had reinforced those walls and reiterated that this was physical and nothing more, Matt was all too aware of how many feelings had come into play. Of how close the two of them had become, even if Jon didn’t want to admit it.

  Last night had come out of left field because Matt had just taken for granted that the rule had gone up in smoke somewhere between the car ride home on Thanksgiving and that not-quite-midnight kiss on New Year’s. That eventually, they’d realize what their relationship had already become, have a “so much for the rules” laugh, and continue on their current path.

  Or, fuck it. If these were the rules, then Matt could enjoy them as much as Jon could. If they weren’t in a relationship, then they sure as hell weren’t exclusive. Which meant Matt could go out and bang whoever he wanted. He’d be honest about it with Jon, of course, but why not? In fact, fucking another man sounded like a damn good idea. What better way to disentangle his brain from Jon than by reassuring himself that yes, he could absolutely get off when it was a different man’s dick, or mouth, or hands, or ass. Why couldn’t he go out and fool around with as many men as he could get his hands on? Or hook up with women? Or both at the same time?

  Because he’s the only one I want.

  Matt’s heart dropped into his stomach. Why did he feel like crying? He’d been stupid to let himself get attached to Jon like this. Except the way things had gone hadn’t just been his imagination. Those signals Jon had been giving off—like that look on New Year’s Eve—had been clear as day.

  The more he thought about it, the more the anger boiled in his chest.

  Anger and hurt.

  A lot more hurt than anger.

  And the anger that was left was directed at himself for not seeing how this would play out.

  Idiot.

  Matt pushed back the emotions trying to claw their way to the surface. Funny—he hadn’t realized how many feelings he had for Jon until Jon had insisted this was nothing. Now all those feelings were still there and still strong.

  “Hey.” Lucas’s voice jarred him. “You all right?”

  No. I am so far from all right it isn’t funny.

  “I’m fine.” It came out as little more than a pitiful croak. “Just, uh . . . boyfriend issues.” Boyfriend. Ouch.

  Lucas grimaced. “Sorry to hear it.” He glanced toward the back of the shop. “Between you and Colin . . .”

  Matt laughed bitterly. “I’d rather be in Colin’s place, to be honest. Being separated sucks, but at least they want to be together.” It came out with more venom than he’d intended, and he sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Mine just reminded me how little he actually wants to be with me at all.”

  “And you didn’t dump his ass?” The incredulous tone thwacked against Matt’s nerves.

  Wow. I really am pathetic. Dude doesn’t want me, and I just lie there all night feeling sorry for myself instead of kicking him out.

  Matt’s shoulders sagged. “It isn’t like I didn’t know. We agreed to keep it casual.”

  “Ooh,” Lucas said, like that somehow explained everything. “But you want more and he doesn’t.”

  Matt avoided the kid’s gaze, and nodded. He barely knew Lucas, but he decided it was easier to talk to him than let it fester. Even if it made him feel like a complete fucking tool. He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead and tried to rub away the ache that was brewing. “Honestly? I was completely okay with the way things were. They seemed to be turning into something else, and he didn’t seem to mind. I wasn’t pushing one way or the other. Just letting it happen on its own. And then . . .” He sighed and dropped his hand into his lap. “And then he just stops and says ‘this is still just physical, right?’ So now I feel like an idiot for seeing something that wasn’t there.”

  “Wow. Man, that sucks.”

  “Yeah.” Matt leaned back in his chair and stared at some of the flash on the wall. “So I don’t know. I told him I was okay with the way things are, but I don’t think I am. And I don’t think they’re going to change.”

  Lucas studied him for a long moment. “Am I out of line if I offer some unsolicited advice?”

  “Whatever you’ve got can’t be any worse than anything I’ve come up with, so . . . shoot.”

  “Well.” Lucas shifted his weight. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned the hard way, it’s that you don’t want to waste your time waiting for someone to fall for you. The only one who’s going to fall is you, and I promise it’ll be flat on your face.”

  Matt stared at him. He’d expected something to the effect of “dump his sorry ass,” or maybe some well-intended and grossly optimistic suggestion about opening his heart and telling Jon how he felt. The baby-faced apprentice hadn’t seemed like someone who’d be so bluntly realistic.

  Matt chewed the inside of his cheek. “Aren’t you a little young to be a cynical fountain of relationship wisdom?”

  Lucas laughed bitterly. “I was a little young to get married a month after I graduated high school. When you’re divorced before you can drink, you learn a thing or two.”

  “Seriously?” Matt blinked.

  “Yeah, and that was just my first divorce.” When Matt’s lips parted, Lucas gave another quiet laugh. “Hey, we all do stupid shit.”

  “Right. Like . . . staying with someone who obviously doesn’t want me.”

  Lucas gave him another apologetic grimace. “No one ever said it was easy to do the smart thing.”

  “Nope. They sure didn’t.”

  Lucas was right, though. There was no point in sticking around and waiting for Jon to get his head out of his ass. He was kidding himself if he thought Jon would suddenly want more from him than two holes and a dick, and the longer Matt stuck around, the worse it was going to be when it finally ended.

  If this casual thing was what Jon wanted, then . . . fine.

  But it wasn’t what Matt wanted. And it wasn’t what they’d been doing all this time.

  Which meant that no matter how much it hurt, it was time to let go.

  Chapter 29

  Matt wasn’t very chatty via text that day. He probably had some clients. Which was good. Business had been picking up a little at the shop, and though Matt was still stressing about money, he’d seemed encouraged by the uptick in cash flow.

  So, aside from a few messages to figure out whose bed they were sleeping in tonight, Jon mostly left him alone. Around 2000, Matt texted that he was on his way over.

  When Jon let him in, though, something didn’t seem right. They kissed hello, and it was unusually brief. Not just a quick, chaste peck on the lips, but barely any contact at all.

  “Busy day?” Jon shut the door behind them.

  Matt kept his gaze down and his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “A little slow, actually, but . . .” He didn’t make any effort to finish the thought.

  Jon studied him, trying to make sense of the cool air between them. Matt wasn’t standoffish, per se, but he wasn’t exactly warm and inviting either.

  “Something wrong?” Jon finally asked.

  Matt swallowed, kneading the back of his neck, and Jon’s chest tightened.

  “Matt?”

  “Um.” Matt drew in a long breath. “I, uh . . . I think we need to talk.”

  Oh, now if that wasn’t a sentence that struck fear in anyone’s heart. “Um. Okay? What’s up?”

  “Well.” Matt shifted uncomfortably, sliding his hand back into his pocket. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said last night. About keepi
ng this casual.”

  Jon cringed, but hoped it didn’t show. He’d been afraid of this. That even though Matt had said he was okay with the way things were, he really wanted more than Jon was willing to give. Had Jon led him on? Shit. That wasn’t what he’d meant to do—he didn’t want anything serious, but he wasn’t in this to hurt Matt.

  He cleared his throat. “Okay?”

  Matt kept his gaze down for a moment. His brow was pinched, his lips taut, so he was obviously deeply focused. Maybe trying to find the words.

  Jon stayed quiet so Matt could gather his thoughts. He focused on not fidgeting nervously. Not letting the dread show on his face. That, and trying to figure out how to gently reiterate what they’d talked about last night.

  Slowly, Matt pulled in a deep breath and met Jon’s eyes. “I think it might be a good idea for us to move on.”

  Jon’s stomach flipped. Okay, that wasn’t what he’d expected. “You do?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s been great. Don’t get me wrong. But I think you want something different out of this than I do.”

  It took a moment for Jon to comprehend it. Those seemed like words he should’ve been saying, not Matt.

  “So,” Matt went on softly, “I think it’s better if we just call it a day.”

  Jon swallowed. “Okay, but what do you want out of it?”

  Matt held his gaze. Then he broke eye contact and shook his head. “Let’s not do this.”

  “Just talk to me. You’re telling me I’m not giving you something you want, but you won’t tell me what you—”

  “Don’t put this on me.” Matt set his jaw and looked Jon in the eye. “You said from day one you didn’t want a relationship, and I respected that. And even though things have felt like they were going in that direction, I just let it be. Let you call the shots. I never once tried to convince you we should call this something else even though it’s sure as shit been feeling like something else for a while now. I didn’t say a word even though I—” He swallowed hard, and his voice was a little thicker when he went on. “I could have lived with you saying this was too much and you wanted to rein it back. But not when you tell me it’s been nothing all along.”