Wood: A True Lover's Story

A long moment of silence went by, and Trent was close to drifting off to sleep—or maybe he had—when he felt a tickling sensation between his legs. He lifted his head with some effort and glanced down his body to see Wood entranced by whatever he was drawing on the inside of his thigh. Trent had only done that to get his lover going, but the expression he saw on Wood’s face at the moment was far from sexual. It was wonder.

“What are you doing, Hersch? Come on, let’s go to bed. I know you have to go to the shop early in the morning,” Trent said, sitting up, his mouth falling open as he stared speechless at the beautiful scenery on his leg. Dark shadowy trees were wrapped around his entire thigh. A wilderness.

“Come to the shop with me in the morning,” Wood said softly, gazing up at him. “I believe I’m ready.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

Wood

Wood was about to text Trent to remind him to come up there so he could check on his two-week-old tattoo before he, Mike, and Bishop went to hang out, when El hollered that Trent had just pulled up out front. He smiled despite himself, and the woman currently in his chair didn’t miss it.

“Who is Trent?” She grinned. “And here I was thinking you were single… and straight.”

“You were wrong on both counts,” El said, coming around the corner with Trent following, looking as sexy as ever in his work-roughened jeans, black, tattered long john shirt, and steel-toe construction boots.

“Maybe. But I wasn’t wrong about sitting down in your chair, Wood. These birds are beautiful and the daisies, oh my god. Wait until I tell my sister you can do cover-ups too.” She beamed, twisting her forearm so she could see her brand-new tattoo better.

Wood eased back on his stool and began the procedure of cleaning and bandaging his last client of the day while Trent stood a short distance away and observed him. He’d never get tired of the proud look in his partner’s eyes when he came inside the busy establishment and made himself at home in Wood’s section just to the right of El’s.

When Wood had done Trent’s tattoo, he’d done it with an audience standing around him, all wanting to see him in action. Surprisingly, the moment he turned the equipment on and felt the machine vibrating in his palms, all of his training and skill came flooding back to him. As he gazed down into the eyes of the man he loved, he felt no nervousness. His hand was steady, his colors swarming and settling into place perfectly as he glided the needle over Trent’s virgin skin. And Trent had honored his promise and allowed Wood to create a design that was original and inspired by him.

Wood answered the few questions from his client, then sent her to the front counter to pay. He spun on his stool and winked at Trent, earning himself a salacious look in return. He sanitized his station, then waved Trent over. Once he was settled, Wood reclined the chair and slid his stool in. Trent raised his shirt with little preamble, proudly showing Wood his first tattoo after seventeen years. He pulled his partition closed before he bent forward and took Trent’s lips in a long, desperate kiss as if it’d been longer than the mere twelve hours they’d been apart.

“How was work?” Wood broke apart briefly to ask, not giving Trent time to answer before he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Mmm,” Trent moaned. Always so vocal.

“Shhh. You don’t want anyone to think the old guy is being unprofessional, do you?” he teased.

Trent gripped the base of his neck and held him down, devouring his mouth more quietly. “What time you getting off? Not too late, I hope.”

“Are you worried about us making it to service on time in the morning or… you want something else?” Wood smiled. They’d continued going to the LGBTQ church on Sundays, and Trent was enjoying it so much that he got disappointed if Wood was too tired to go.

“Both.”

Wood checked his watch. “I won’t have to be here much longer. El’s wrapping up now, but he wants me to look over some new additions to a sleeve he’s working on.”

“That guy acts like he can’t make a decision without you now,” Trent hissed quietly. Wood knew he wasn’t jealous, but Trent wasn’t shy about wanting his time with him in the evenings and fussing anytime El infringed on it.

“I’m not complaining. Especially about the money.” Wood linked his fingers with Trent’s where he held him at the nape of his neck. They quietly kissed a little longer before Wood draped a couple of clean hand towels over Trent’s chest to make sure he didn’t get him wet.