Page 30 of Sweet T

“Yeah. So, I go to school, but I’ve been working a side job at a tattoo parlor, saving money. Not tattooing—I’m not good at that—but cleaning, taking out the trash, answering the phone, odds and ends.”

“And this tattoo parlor is also a gym?”

Evan chuckled. “No. That’s at school. It’s free, so I take advantage of it.”

“Often, from the looks of it. We need to rinse.”

“I got it,” Evan said, lifting his legs and slipping forward, submerging his upper half into the water. As he did so, his pelvis rose and Tucker saw the brief bulge of Evan’s privates, encased in Mr. Bubble’s fragrant foam, before he sank back into the water. Tucker felt his face flush with heat, followed by the prickling of perspiration on his forehead.

When Evan’s upper half surfaced, all trace of the shampoo was gone, his dark curly hair slicked back with water. He opened his pale blue eyes, the lashes impossibly long, offset by plush pink lips protruding from two-day scruff. Tucker’s heartbeat increased. He wanted to taste those lips, but it wouldn’t be appropriate, he told himself.

Is any of this appropriate? he wondered. It was as if a dream Tucker never knew he had had come true and was now inches away, naked before him.

“So,” Tucker said. “Your frivolous activities include weight-lifting and tattoos. Seems pretty harmless to me.”

“And being gay,” Evan added. “That’s an indulgence too. I just haven’t met the right girl yet.”

“That’s really what they think?”

Evan nodded.

“I thought the world had moved on,” Tucker continued, “and I’m in Spoon, mind you. Towns don’t get much smaller.”

“They’re decent people, I guess... just old-school. They may be pushing me to get a degree in a progressive field, but that doesn’t mean they know anything about it. There’s no convincing them of anything outside of what they know, which is... Waynesboro.”

Tucker thought about Titus. His father was open-minded, but also set in his ways.

“I was saving up to go to Atlanta. I was going to finish the semester, get my credits before leaving. But my father walked in on me... with my shirt off.”

“Let me guess. He didn’t know about the tattoos.”

“He’d seen some, on my arms and legs, but not my chest and back. The wings are the latest addition.” Evan smiled. “Job perks. I let Sherri practice on me. She owns the place. I’ve been letting her ink me, but mostly where I could hide them under clothing if I choose.”

“In front of your parents.”

“Until I’m out of the house, at least.”

“And now you are.”

“Yeah. Dad blew a gasket. Started screaming about me wasting my potential... Said he was going to cut the school money, that I could get a job bagging groceries for all he cared. Mom was crying, upset. But it’s not like she did anything. Like I said, they’re old-school. Dad rules the roost.”

“So you left.”

“Yeah. I called Tyke and told him what was going on. I went to an ATM, withdrew the limit. Wrote Sherri a check for the rest.”

“Now, you’re here.”

“Look, I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll get a job and pay you back. If you don’t mind me staying here with you. I can sleep on the sofa.”

Tucker wanted Evan to stay, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it.

“You can stay. But you’re sleeping in the bed, at least until you get better. I’ll take the sofa. I fall asleep on it most nights anyway, watching TV.”

“You’re the boss.”

“Yes, I am.” Tucker said, mussing Evan’s wet hair as he stood. The bath bubbles were almost gone now, the modesty-barrier obliterated. Evan didn’t seem to be concerned with it, but Tucker held his gaze. The temptation to look south, however, was damn near overpowering. “I could always use help at the tavern. You don’t have to look for a job.”

“Really? That’s perfect. I’ll do whatever. Give me the shit jobs. I’m not leaving until I pay you and your parents back. It’s the least I can do.”

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