Paint a Story on Your Skin

by L. J. Hamlin

  “I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I do like you. My age wasn’t an excuse to say no to you. I really do think I’m too old. People will think I’m a creep. But I’m very much attracted to you.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay. But I’m glad to hear it. I’m really interested in you. I don’t care about your age. I don’t think it matters.” Tommy says firmly.

  “Well let me look at this folder, and then we’ll get out of here.” Mike kind of likes that they’re going out earlier in the day. It seems less formal, more casual, and Mike likes that.

  “I hope you like the ones I chose,” Tommy says nervously, and Mike thinks that’s cute. Tommy’s so skilled, but very humble.

  Mike looks through the drawings, and it’s hard to pick the ones he likes the best because they’re all amazing. But after a little while, he picks the ones he thinks will be best for the show. He takes them out and puts them in another folder so they can be taken to be put into frames.

  “You’re done? We can go somewhere?” Tommy asks, looking relieved.

  “Yeah, where do you want to go?” Mike asks.

  “There’s a park near here. We could go hang out, walk around, maybe get some lunch later. I’m nervous enough with the whole first date thing. I don’t really want to add having to drive into that.”

  “That sounds good. There are a few restaurants close to the park, so we can easily walk.” Mike can’t imagine how terrible it must feel to have a phobia like driving, but he’d seen Tommy last time. He’s a different person when he’s in a car. If he wants to avoid that while they go on a date, Mike’s more than happy to do some walking.

  “You don’t mind?” Tommy asks.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Okay, let’s get going,” Tommy says brightly.

  They head out of Mike’s office. When they say goodbye to Dia, she smiles at them, once again looking fond. “Have fun, you two.” Dia waves them off.

  “She’s a great woman,” Mike says once they’re out of earshot, stepping out of the door.

  “She really is. She likes working here,” Tommy tells him.

  “I’m glad. She helps me out a lot.” Mike smiles.

  “So, how did you get into this?” Tommy asks as they walk in the direction of the park. “You mentioned you’re not an artist.”

  “My father was an artist, and the gallery was a family business. I worked here my whole working life. Since I was a kid working summers. I took over when my dad retired. He passed away two years ago.” It still hurts to think of his dad, but at the same time, it makes him happy. He has a lot of fond memories of his father, especially at the gallery.

  “I’m sorry. You guys were close?” Tommy reaches out, catching Mike’s hand and squeezing it briefly before letting go. The contact is nice, comforting.

  “Yeah, we were. He was a real art lover. He would have liked your style.” Mike’s dad had been a painter, water colours, but he’d liked lots of different styles of art, and Mike’s sure he would have appreciated the beauty of Tommy’s work.

  “Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say. What kind of art did he do?” Tommy asks.

  They talk about Mike’s dad, his art, all the way to the park.

  “Do you want to walk around or find somewhere to sit for a while?” Mike asks.

  “Why don’t we go sit under that tree? It looks nice.” Tommy points.

  “I like the way you think.” Mike nods.

  They walk over to a large oak tree and settle down in its shade. The sun is shining, and it’s warm enough to need the shade. It’s the perfect day for a trip to the park. Tommy made a good choice, and Mike tells him so.

  “Thank you. I like parks. They’re peaceful. Better in the day, like this. I don’t mind kids, but their parents can be weird. Like, because I have tattoos, they think I’m some kind of thug and a freak and spend the whole time glaring at me.” Tommy shakes his head, and a stray curl breaks free of his ponytail.

  Mike reaches out and tucks it behind his ear. “You’re not a freak or a thug,”

  “I’m glad you think so. More the thug part. I kind of don’t mind being thought of as a freak, as long as it’s not the scary kind of freak.” Tommy smiles, and that smile is so beautiful.

  “I wish I were an artist,” Mike blurts out.

  “Why?” Tommy asks.

  “Your smile. I’d like to be able to paint it, capture it,” Mike admits.

  “You like my smile?” Tommy blushes, but he’s smiling again. He looks adorable, in a totally sexy way.

  “I love your smile. I noticed it right away when I first saw you. I should have known then I’d say yes to anything you’d ask.” Mike grins.

  Tommy’s smile turns flirtatious. “Anything I ask, huh?”

  “Within reason.” Mike’s not too sure about that, but he doesn’t want to sound like he’s in too deep already.

  “So, if I asked you to come home with me after our date?” Tommy asks, his blue eyes dark.

  “I don’t put out on the first date,” Mike says, even though it almost kills him. He thinks they could have something real here. He doesn’t want to ruin it by turning it into a quick fling, and he thinks going to bed with Tommy now could do that.

  “Three date rule? A lot of people have that.” Tommy’s still smiling, and Mike’s glad he doesn’t seem offended by Mike turning down his offer.

  “Is the three date rule what it sounds like?” Mike asks.

  “If it sounds like you don’t have sex until after the third date, then yes, it’s what it sounds like.”

  “I could do that. I think by the third date you know if things are going to work.” Mike really wants things to work.

  “I just want to say, I don’t ask every guy I date to come home with me. I’m not like a total slut. But I do like sex. I think people put too much of a stigma around people who enjoy sex. I hate the word slut,” Tommy explains, and Mike feels a little flattered but determined to stick to the new three date rule.

  “It’s a social construct. I don’t care if you’ve slept around. Sex doesn’t always mean a lot. It can just be a fun, pleasurable thing to do with your body, and I think that’s okay.” Mike doesn’t like slut shaming, and he knows a lot of gay men get judged for being promiscuous, whereas straight men don’t seem to. Mike thinks everyone should be judged the same, no matter what their gender or sexuality is. If something makes a person a slut, those factors shouldn’t matter.

  They talk about the politics of slut shaming, how it’s worse for different people. And Tommy shows again that he has a very mature, grown up attitude. He’s not a kid.

  “You know, we totally talked all the way through lunch,” Tommy points out.

  “Shit.” Mike hadn’t noticed, but now he thinks about it, he’s hungry. “Want to grab dinner?”

  “Yeah. We can still walk, right? This day’s been kind of perfect. I don’t want to ruin it by having a panic attack.” Tommy still looks like he’s waiting for a bad reaction.

  “Yeah, we can walk. Do people give you a hard time over your phobia?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been on dates with guys who tell me to just get over it,” Tommy says as they get up and brush grass off of their bodies.

  “It’s a phobia. You don’t just get over that. Those guys were assholes. You deserve better than that from someone you’re dating,” Mike says firmly.

  “I’m starting to see that,” Tommy says softly, and picks a piece of grass off Mike. It’s somehow ended up on his chest. After he drops the grass, Tommy returns his hand to Mike’s chest, just spreading his fingers out over Mike’s heart.

  “Checking to see if I work out?” Mike jokes. He really wants to kiss Tommy right now, but there are people everywhere, and Mike has never been one for PDA. A part of him is still worried that if people see him kissing Tommy, they’ll wonder what Tommy is doing with such an old man.

  “Oh, I can already tell you work out. I’ve been checking you out since my first time in your office. I
just wanted to feel you. Prove to myself that this is real. I haven’t felt like this before,” Tommy admits.

  “You’ve been checking me out?” Mike feels like he’s glowing at Tommy’s words. He also doesn’t think he’s felt like this before. He doesn’t know what that means, what to make of what he’s feeling.

  “Partly as an artist, because like I said, I’d like to draw you. But also in the ‘I just really want to see you naked’ way,” Tommy says, and Mike finds himself leaning closer, closing the gap between them, Tommy’s hand still connecting them.

  “Third date,” Mike croaks out, partly to reminded himself.

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t kiss me now,” Tommy points out.

  “People will see,” Mike says glancing around. It doesn’t look like anyone’s looking at them, but he bets that would change if they started kissing.

  “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” Tommy tries to make it sound like a joke, but Mike can tell that he’s really concerned.

  “No.” Mike reaches out and cups Tommy’s jaw. “I’m lucky to be with you.”

  “In that case, kiss me. I’m happy to wait for the rest, but I want to know what it’s like to be kissed by you,” Tommy says, and he licks his lips, and that just breaks any will power Mike has.

  Mike cradles Tommy’s face in one hand and puts the other hand to his waist, drawing him in. And kisses him. Mike’s heard of feeling electricity when you kiss someone, but he never thought it was true. But when he presses his lips to Tommy’s, he swears he feels a spark. It starts at the point where their lips meet and rushes down his spine.

  He has a feeling holding back until the third date is going to be very hard indeed. Mike lets the kiss last longer than he planned and go deeper than it maybe should in such a public place. But screw what people think. It feels too good to stop.

  Eventually they do end the kiss, and Mike loves the look of Tommy’s flushed face, the way his pierced bottom lip is slightly puffy.

  “I’ve never kissed a guy with a lip ring before,” Mike says.

  “Did you like it?”

  Mike just raises an eyebrow.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Tommy grins.

  They move apart a little, but Tommy hooks his hand into Mike’s, and they walk to the restaurant like that. It feels right, holding Tommy’s hand. Mike could get used to it.

  * * * *

  “This counts as a third date,” Tommy says as he adjusts his tie in the mirror in Mike’s office.

  “It’s a gallery opening, but it’s your show that I’m putting on. I don’t think that counts,” Mike argues. He’s a little distracted by seeing Tommy in his black suit, with its black shirt and red tie. He dresses up well.

  “Do you not want it to be our third date?” Tommy asks, going to lean against Mike’s desk.

  “I do. But if I think about it now, I won’t concentrate on the show. I have three local artists as well as you to manage and promote. I have people from the local paper to talk to. I’d rather not do that with a hard on,” Mike says firmly.

  “So I get to come home with you? Say yes, and I won’t mention it again or distract you during the show. I promise. Just say yes.” Tommy smiles. They’ve gone out on two dates over two weeks, talked on the phone dozens of times, skyped a few times, and texted each other constantly. They know each other. The spark hasn’t lessened. Mike is ready to go home with Tommy.

  He’s a little worried that he won’t be good enough. He has gray hairs, wrinkles. That he might not be able to keep up with Tommy has plagued his thoughts. But then he thinks Tommy has seen his gray hair, and Mike isn’t some ancient decrepit old man. Apart from his bad knee, he’s perfectly fit.

  “Yes, you’re coming home with me. Now get out there and turn on the charm. People will be here soon. You need to be ready to talk about your work,” Mike orders.

  “Really? I get to come home with you?” Tommy sounds very happy about it.

  “Yes. You do.” Mike nods.

  Tommy practically dives away from the desk and comes over to Mike. Kisses him quickly and firmly on the lips before turning and doing what he was asked, leaving Mike’s office ready for the show. Mike takes a second to compose himself, flustered from the kiss, and then he goes to join the waiting artists.

  The show starts not long after that. People arrive, and Mike encourages the artists to talk to people, talk about their work. He does the same, talking to the people here to see the art, giving a small interview to the local reporter he invited. He makes sure to talk about all of the artists. He doesn’t want to be seen playing favourites, even with his relationship with Tommy.

  Maybe it’s too early to call it a relationship, but it’s more than a friendship. They have a connection. They’re dating, and it’s been going well. Tonight they’ll take things another step further. So it might be early, but what they have is a relationship.

  Mike doesn’t think a show has ever taken so long in his life. At the same time, he’s really nervous about the show being over and taking Tommy home. When people start to leave, it’s a relief.

  Tommy comes over to him, loosening his tie and beaming.

  “I can’t believe I sold four of my drawings,” Tommy says happily.

  “I’m not surprised,” Mike says honestly.

  “Really?” Tommy asks.

  “Really. You’ve got great skill, Tommy. People can see that when they look at your work. You create beautiful art. People want to have a piece of that,” Mike says firmly.

  “I’m so pumped. This is…It’s gone better than I ever imagined. But I’d like to get out of here now,” Tommy says, those blue eyes of his flashing.

  “Just let me close up, turn all the lights off, and then we can go,” Mike says, nervous and happy.

  As he walks around the gallery making sure everything as it should be, lights off, doors closed, alarms set, his worries start to come back, but he’s not backing out now.

  And as he locks up behind them, he starts to feel a little giddy. It’s been a long time since Mike was this excited about taking someone home. In a way, it makes him feel young again.

  They walk around the back of the gallery to where Mike’s car is parked, and he can see Tommy getting tense as they get closer to the car. So he takes Tommy’s hand in his, and Tommy seems to relax enough to reach the car. And then, instead of getting straight in the car, Mike pushes Tommy up against the side and kisses him.

  Tommy makes a small pleased noise and parts his lips, deepening the kiss. Tommy’s hands slide up under Mike’s suit jacket, stroking over his sides. They make out heatedly for a few minutes, and then Mike draws back, pressing his thumb to Tommy’s lower lip. Mike can’t quite get over the feel of Tommy’s lip ring when they kiss.

  “You all right to drive home with me?” Mike doesn’t want to ruin their good night by forcing Tommy to get in his car.

  “I want to go home with you enough to drive. I’ll probably feel sick, and have to fight a panic attack all the way there. But I think you’ll make it worth my while.” Tommy’s grin is part cheeky and flirty, part nervous, and Mike leans in to peck him on the lips again.

  “I’ll make it worth your while,” Mike promises.

  “Good, then let’s go.” Tommy smiles.

  Mike opens his car, and they get in, both looking a little more rumpled than they had when they’d been inside the gallery. Tommy does tense up as they start driving, and Mike takes one hand off the wheel to rest on Tommy’s knee, to try and help. And like before, he keeps Tommy talking.

  He’s sure that Tommy doesn’t enjoy the trip to his house, but they do get there without Tommy’s anxiety leading to a panic attack. Mike’s glad. Tommy had been on a high after his first successful show. He deserves to keep enjoying that.

  Mike parks and they get out. Once he’s locked the car, Mike leads the way inside his house.

  “I like your place,” Tommy says as the front door closes.

  “You haven’t seen very much of it,” Mike
replies.

  “Give me a tour,” Tommy suggests, then adds, “In the morning.”

  “You don’t want the tour now?” Mike teases.

  “Do you really want to show me your kitchen? Or do you want to take me to bed?” Tommy shrugs out of his suit jacket and hang sit on the coat rack Mike keeps by the door.

  “Bed,” Mike admits, looking at Tommy. He’s so beautiful, like the art he creates.

  “Good, lead the way.” Tommy smiles.

  Mike leads them to his bedroom, glad that he thought to clean it this morning before he left for the gallery. He doesn’t want to look like a slob.

  “I like that painting, the lake. It’s beautiful.” Tommy points to the painting hanging on one of the walls.

  “My father painted it,” Mike replies softly.

  “He was incredible,” Tommy says, staring at it.

  “Thank you. He was. He gave me a love of art. That’s a gift I still have.” Mike walks over to Tommy, not sure if he’s allowed to touch. Tommy had been clear about why he wanted to come home with Mike, but he’s still not sure how to start this. How to make the first move to take them from casually talking to more.

  “So, this is your bedroom. We’re in your bedroom alone,” Tommy points out, like Mike could possibly not have noticed.

  “Come here.” Mike beckons.

  Once Tommy is close, Mike reaches out and cups his jaw, leaning in for a kiss. He really does love that lip ring. He wants to feel it on other parts of his body, and the thought that his fantasy might soon become a reality has him drawing in his breath sharply. Which just makes Tommy kiss him deeper.

  Mike wraps his arms around Tommy, letting his hands wander, exploring his clothed body. He can’t help squeezing Tommy’s firm ass, and this time, it’s Tommy who gasps. He grinds into Mike, his hips jerking. Mike takes that as encouragement, gripping Tommy’s ass and dragging him closer.

  “Maybe we should lose some clothes?” Tommy suggests, breaking the kiss but staying close.

  “You sure you want to see me naked?” Mike says it like he’s joking, but he kind of means it. His insecurities are just under the surface.