Stories Beneath Our Skin

by Veronica Sloane

  "Hell yeah. Parlor I worked at was way on the other side of the city. I don't think I ever came out this way then. Didn't explore as much as I should've back then. Mostly stuck to the blocks around the community college."

  "I know you're not real big on the details, but I know the area pretty well. Only two shops in that neighborhood, and Cindy wouldn't put with that kind of shitty behavior from an artist. Gotta guess the place you worked was Venom, right?"

  "Yeah." The knowledge didn't bother Liam the way he thought it would. It was just a fact. "It wasn't that bad a place, really."

  "Jim's okay." Ace shrugged. "Doesn't pay enough attention to his people though. I knew he'd lost an artist a few years back. Must've been your ex."

  "Must've been. I didn't give Jim much thought one way or another, beyond him being the boss. That whole period is sort of a blur." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push it out of his eyes. It really was getting long. "You know, they say E permanently impacts your ability to make serotonin. That you could never be happy the same way again. Wouldn't that be a kick in the ass?"

  "Thought you said you were usually a pretty upbeat guy," Ace teased.

  "Well, upbeat is probably an overstatement." He couldn't help but grin.

  "You've been clean for a long time. Probably fine now."

  The warehouse had no sign above it. Ace pushed a doorbell and got buzzed in by a gruff voice over the speaker. They walked down a tight, institutional looking hallway that let out into a cluttered room lined with industrial shelving. Squirreled away in a corner was a high desk. A huge guy with broad shoulders and tattoos that covered his shaved skull sat hunched over a newspaper, pen idly tapping against the desk.

  "Hey, Ben." Ace leaned onto the desk, shadow falling over the paper. "Got my order ready?"

  "Who let you in?" Ben rolled his eyes. "And what've you got stuck to your shoe?"

  "Oh, this is Liam. Liam, this is Ben." Ace gestured loosely between them.

  "Where'd you find him?" Ben looked Liam over skeptically. "Looks like one of those sad skater kids that hang out in front of the Starbucks."

  "Should I just get my driver's license tattooed on my face so everyone'll know I'm a legal adult?" Liam despaired.

  "You're man enough for me." Ace patted him idly on the arm. "The order, Benny."

  "Didn't get an order." Ben heaved himself up. "Grace probably handled it. Let me check the shelves. Don't lick anything."

  "Is that a serious concern?"

  "Maybe." Ace's eyes went wide. "Did I lick something? When did I do this?"

  "Not you. That beanstalk you call an artist." Ben squatted down to check the lower shelves. There was sun on the back of his neck, painstakingly detailed for such a simple design. "Duck or whatever."

  "Oh yeah. Think you pissed him off. Can't imagine how with your sunny demeanor." Ace winked at Liam. "Think what he licked was Grace though, not the merchandise."

  "That's yours," Liam blurted, pointing to the sun. "I mean, it is right?"

  "What?" Ace followed his direction then smiled broad. "Yeah, I did that. A few others, too. You figured that out from here?"

  "It reminds me of Frankie's elbow knotwork," he flushed. "You use that superfine needle. Don't see it much."

  "Hurt like a motherfucker." Ben located the box at last, plunking it down on the countertop. "I thought he was trying to cut me open and climb inside."

  "There's a mental image." Opening the box, Ace started counting the contents. "You got any electric blue? Forgot to add that, but we're low."

  "Yeah, we should. Want the economy?"

  "Sure. Liam is a blue addict. You should see the Kali piece he did. All blues and greens. Looked like jewelry."

  "That so?" Ben said softly.

  "That's so." Ace smiled, all teeth. "Want to talk machines with you too."

  The conversation went strictly business after that, Ace handing over the shop's Visa at the end. The sale number was high, but definitely lower than any website Liam had ever seen. Ben taped the box shut and promised a delivery date for the refurbished machine for Goose.

  "Grace has a show next weekend." Ben said only once the receipt was signed and tucked away. "You should come."

  "Should I?" Ace set the pen down gently against the wood.

  "Yeah. You should. Bring him if you want." Waving in Liam's direction, Ben finally cracked a smile. His left front tooth was inked, a tiny skull. "Looks like a soft rock kind of guy."

  "Maybe." The box settled into Ace's arms. "Catch you later."

  "Bye." Ben turned back to his paper, ignoring Liam's own half-hearted farewell.

  He waited until they were back on the street to ask, "What the hell?"

  "You've got your exes, I've got mine." Ace's mouth was pinched up tight. "Sorry. I thought he wouldn't be an ass about it."

  "He wasn't. I mean. Not really." The conversation replayed in Liam's head. "That's pretty much how Deb talked to me in the beginning."

  "Yeah well, for someone who doesn't have one, Deb sure knows how to act like a dick."

  "How long ago were you guys together? You and Ben, I mean."

  "About four years ago. He was the last long-term thing. We had a good run, but then I got into opening the shop and that drained my free time pretty quick. Probably could've survived that, except he moved back to the city around then. We didn't break up so much as just fell out of touch. Became pen pals practically before we threw in the towel."

  "Seems like you're still friends."

  "Sort of." They'd gotten back to the car, and Liam took the box so Ace could pop the trunk. "Still gets jealous apparently. You'd think after all this time, he'd be over it."

  "I wouldn't be." Liam settled the box down, taking longer with it then had to so he could hide the flush of his cheeks. "You've got a way of sticking to people."

  "Makes me sounds like old gum." Ace laughed, tugged at Liam's waistband to draw him away before slamming the trunk closed. "He was only jealous 'cause you're so pretty."

  "I'm going to get a complex if you keep calling me that. I am a guy, you know."

  "Oh, I've noticed." The hand at the back of his jeans slid momentarily lower, before departing altogether. "But you've just this look about you. The pouty lips, the big eyes, and the crazy dark eyelashes. Sorry, Professor, you're very pretty."

  "Hate you." Liam shoved at Ace lightly. He always forgot the solidness of Ace's compact frame, how firmly he could stand his ground.

  "Hate me and walk. There's a few places we can go to get you some new kicks."

  "Kicks? What is this, 1996?"

  "Don't diss my slang, yo," Ace said flatly.

  They walked through the streets seemingly at random, talking nonsense, and Liam relaxed into it. Despite the grief that lingered in his chest, the world seemed obscenely kind just then. It wasn't even all that hot out. While they waited for the light to change on a busy intersection, Ace took Liam's hand.

  "Okay?" he asked quietly.

  "Yeah." Liam grinned down at the pavement.

  It should have been awkward walking like that, but they hit a comfortable pace, and their hands swung loose and natural together. Liam's fingers became hypersensitive, aware of each shift and change of pressure. He scanned the passing crowd for reactions, always a little wary. There was nothing; no one gave them a second look.

  "Here we go." Ace tugged him into a storefront with more black paint than clear window out front.

  There were boots everywhere, including a pair very close to Ace's own shitkickers. Two sales clerks chatted idly in the back while stacking boxes. Both of them were saturated in ink, long complex sleeves and enough piercings to set off a metal detector.

  "This looks more like your kind of place." Liam picked up a boot longer than his arm.

  "While I'd pay good money to see you even try to pull those off, there are actual sneakers." Ace laughed.

  "I could manage it," he protested, more out of sheer contrariness than belief.

  "They'd we
ar you, trust me. Here."

  There was a wall of fairly ordinary sneakers, done mostly in blacks. Liam gravitated toward the Converses on display. A blue pair with a bright silver star on the ankle drew him in and he got the box off the shelf.

  "Converse? Now who's living 1996?"

  "Hey, these are classic."

  They sat side by side on the small bench while Liam pulled them on. The white of the laces nearly blinded him, making his old pair look even shabbier by comparison. Ace's boots, battered and worn, sat beside them. Liam stared down at the toes of their shoes, white and black against the store's dingy carpet.

  "You zonking out on me?" Ace nudged him.

  "No... sorry. I'm getting these."

  As he waited for his credit card to go through, Liam watched Ace move down the rows. Occasionally he'd pick something up, look at the price, make a face and set it back down. The blackened windows only let in a little sunlight. Every last beam of it seemed to find the gold of Ace's hair. The epiphany broke over him quietly, the groundwork long since laid.

  "Sign here." A receipt was shoved his direction. His signature was illegible in his dash, heart thudding as he collected his bag.

  "Ready?" Ace glanced up from his perusal.

  "Yeah, let's go."

  "You look like you're chewing over something."

  "Nah," Liam lied. "We going to eat before we go back?"

  "Who are you, and what've you done with the Professor?" Ace laughed. "We just had breakfast like two hours ago. Your tiny bird stomach is definitely not empty yet."

  "Actually I'm starving." He hadn't been thinking of food, but once the suggestion came out, his stomach roared to life.

  "Wow. First time for everything. Okay, let's some get food into you."

  They ate at a hole-in-the-wall cafe. Ace kept one hand wrapped around a thick ceramic mug of dark coffee. The other kept winding up on the back of Liam's neck, sliding under dark hair. Liam leaned into it, eating his eggs painfully slowly to prolong the experience.

  "Tell me what you were thinking before." Ace nudged when Liam had gone nearly boneless with the sensual pleasure of a full belly and caresses. "In the store."

  "Doesn't matter."

  "Matters to me." Ace used his grip to bring Liam closer, forehead touching Liam's cheek. "Tell."

  "I was thinking that I could fall in love with you." The words spilled out onto the small table, cluttering in among the plates and Ace's coffee.

  "That... is not what I thought you were going to say." Ace didn't relax his grip though and kept their heads close together. His breath ghosted over Liam's skin, carrying the bitter smell of coffee. "How do you always turn me around like that?"

  "Dunno. Guess it's a natural talent. You going to tell me that I shouldn't? Not sure I'm up for another round of that game."

  "No." Ace kissed the corner of Liam's mouth. "I did all the selfless disclaimers already. Now I'm too greedy to turn you away."

  "Good." Liam twisted at an uncomfortable angle to take the kiss further.

  He might've climbed right into Ace's lap if it wasn't for the pointed cough of another customer reminding them they were in public. Liam flushed spectacularly.

  "Let's go home." Ace said, eyes heavy lidded. "Got a few hours yet before we get Cole."

  In a week, Liam would fly back to California, changed and ready for one last rigorous push. He'd reenter the world of literary analysis and papers that kept him up the same hours he'd worked at the shop. Maybe he'd text more often, picking up the phone to reach across the distance. Maybe they'd make phone calls that devolved into heavy breathing or worse, snoring given their hours. Maybe the fire newly kindled in Liam's chest would flicker and die. Or maybe it would mature into something that could last years.

  For now though, they would have the thick expectancy on the ride home, the tumble into their bed and the satisfaction in each other's bodies. When they sweat into the sheets, sticky and laughing, Liam danced his fingers down Ace's spine over and over. He memorized each bump and the broad plane of his shoulders.

  "You don't have any ink here."

  "Yet." Ace winked at him. "Saving that space for something really good."

  "I've got an idea." Liam tucked his chin onto Ace's shoulder, looked down the canvas. "I'll draw it for you. Send it to you when I'm done."

  "No hints?"

  "Not yet." Liam smiled. "Gotta have something to look forward to. You don't have to get it if you don't like it, obviously."

  "Obviously." Ace rolled over and tangled their legs together. Liam slid his hand down over the blade on Ace's forearm.

  "When did you get this one?"

  "When I got back. I felt a lot like a sword back then. That's how I met Benny actually. Sort of a long story."

  "Tell me anyway."

  "Well, there was this bar," Ace began and Liam settled in to listen.

  Chapter Fourteen: Epilogue

  Two Years Later

  The outside of the shop had been repainted recently, mutating from hospital green to a viciously dark purple. It didn't help the aesthetic much, but Liam took it in with a grin. He'd bet anything that the color had been on sale at Home Depot the day Ace got it into his head to redo it. The orange and black sign was flipped to open. When he pushed in, the thudding baseline rattled welcoming around his feet.

  "Professor!" Deb jumped out of her chair and came around the desk to pull him into a rib-cracking hug. "Thought you were coming in at six."

  "Goose told me he had some free time, so I moved it up." He pulled back to take her in. She looked just the same, except for a new burst of roses over her clavicle. "It's good to see you."

  "Nice to see you too." She slapped him lightly on the arm, backing out of his embrace. "Six months! What's wrong with you?"

  "It was easier to just push through the last of it. But it's over. Done now."

  "I heard. He never shuts up about it. You'd think he'd gotten that diploma himself. When do you start work?"

  "End of August. Think I can get a few table hours between now and then?"

  "You remember how?"

  "Think I can piece it together. It's either that or I spend all summer here." He gestured around the empty waiting room. "Keep you from getting too bored."

  "Talk to the boss man." Unmoved by the threat, she threw herself back into her chair. "Who has no idea you're here, as requested, you sneaky little shit."

  "You're the best, Deb." He slipped into the back, going right through Goose's open door. The pictures of tattoos past whispered together as he shut it behind him.

  "Our wanderer returns!" Goose beamed at him. His curls sprung wild from his head. The gnomes had been replaced by some funky gargoyles, and Liam gave one horny head a pat.

  "You get the sketches I sent you?"

  "Sure. Made a transfer already. You ready for this?"

  "As I'll ever be." He kicked off his shoes, the blue Converses with their silver stars faded to faint reminders on the canvas.

  "Oh, sure just make yourself comfortable." Goose snorted. "You're supposed to be the classy one."

  "I am the epitome of class." He laid out on the table and rucked up his shirt.

  "Damn. Never actually seen it." Goose held his hand just above the scar tissue. "It's going to be a hell of a punch when I go over those."

  "Pain for now, enjoyment for the rest of my life." Liam shrugged. "I trust you."

  "Of course you do. I'm awesome." Goose beamed.

  The transfer looked good. Liam put one hand behind his head and settled in for the inking. Going over the scars was the worst part, not just the pain of it, but the echo of how they got there. Goose talked all the way through it, though, anchoring Liam to the here and now. Nonsense about a band he'd heard and the ones he wanted to go see over the summer. Somewhere in there, Liam drifted off listening to Goose's little fountain. He dreamed of fat crows gossiping about rhythm and blues. He drifted back awake when the needle crossed over bone in a bright slice of pain.

  "Where'
d I lose you?" Goose chuckled.

  "Mmm. Concert on the green?"

  "Oh yeah, the Beefalos! They're pretty lousy except for the glitter, but the Green is a great outdoor space. You should come with." Leaning in, Goose painted a streak upwards then chased the blood with a paper towel. "They have a show on the fourth there, some brass band, fireworks after."

  "What? Not going to sit out on the roof again this summer?"

  "Listen, I like that roof. It's a good roof. But a man has to diversify or what happens?"

  "You make traditions." Liam stared at the ceiling, listening to Ace's music pound through the walls. "Nothing wrong with that."

  "True." A grinding pain, and then Goose stood up, cocking his head to one side. "Who said this anyway?"

  "Rumi."

  "Ha! Him, I actually know something about. Sufi mystic, right?"

  "Got it in one."

  "I've been reading some trippy books past few weeks. Found my library card."

  "Where was it?" The "it" came out more as a hiss as Goose bent back to work.

  "In a library book. Never returned it. I was using the card as a bookmark."

  "What book?"

  "Magic School Bus Visits the Solar System. Holy shit, don't laugh, don't laugh!"

  "Ow." Liam whimpered, still grinning. "What were you, seven when you took that out? How was the card even still working?"

  "It was like three years ago, shut up. Ms. Frizzle would school you in a second. Do you know how much you'd weigh on Mars? No? 'Cause I do."

  "You're right. Ms. Frizzle is pretty awesome. You know, I heard once some people think she and Mary Poppins were timelords."

  "What's a timelord?"

  "Oh, man, seriously? Goose, you need to watch Doctor Who. I think it was created for you. Think Magic School Bus in a police box with grown-ups." Liam shifted a little. "Where are we?"

  "Almost done. You got the DVDs for this show?"

  "No, but we can figure out a way to watch it. Marathon when it's too hot to be outside. I think Cole can even watch some of it."

  "He's on a Power Rangers kick, you might have to talk him off that ledge first. Joy bought him a whole bunch of action figures for his birthday." Goose flicked his wrist, and Liam squeezed his eyes shut. "You'll see when you go home. Army of the guys on his windowsill."