Page 13 of Spilled Ink

4

He hadn't had a hit in eight years.

Eight.

But he would get on his knees and beg for one right now.

Rooster slugged back another swig of Jack, pacing from front door to balcony. He had butterfly stitches in his temple and a bruise on his ribs and...

Fuckers.

Breaking into his goddamn shop.

Thinking they could fucking threaten him.

Rooster growled, spinning and slamming his fist against the wall.

He thought for a minute that he was hearing echoes of his hit, but it was someone knocking on his door. Rapping hard.

"I. Yeah. Yeah. Coming." He opened up, looking out into worried eyes. "Detective."

"Hey." Mark was right there, shifting from foot to foot, dark circles bagging under his eyes. "Okay if I come in?"

"Yeah. Yeah, man. Please." Rooster stepped back, let Mark in. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I been worried about you." Mark moved right into his space, one hand settling on his hip to hold him still while that hot as fuck mouth met his.

The bottle fell from his fingers and he pushed into the kiss, tongue fucking Mark's lips. Oh, shit. He needed this. NeededMark. Right fucking now. Mark kicked the bottle out of their way and started tearing at his clothes, his loose shirt going first. The kissing never stopped, and it kind of amazed him, how they'd never done this before, never kissed like this.

He managed to get his hands away from Mark's body long enough to get the shirt off, let Mark get to skin. Let Mark touch him.

Those rough fingers traced his tattoo, top to bottom, lingering gently on his sore ribs. "You sure you're up to this, man?" Mark gasped between kisses. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Please." He needed to feel, needed to be touched. Now.

"Oh, thank God." Mark pulled him even closer, trying to crawl into him. Looked like someone else needed it, too.

Rooster groaned, fingers ripping at Mark's fly, Mark's buttons. "Bed? I got one. Clean sheets."

"Show me." Taking his hand, Mark stumbled with him, cloth hitting the floor every time they stopped for a grope.

He had a big bed, solid and sturdy and...

"Mark." He arched as those calluses hit a spot on his hip, sending shocks through his body.

"Need you. Scared me. I didn't even know..." They hit the bed, their legs whacking it, both of them tumbling ass over teakettle. Mark's mouth slid down his throat, right over the dragon's head at the top of his shoulder.

"Touch me. Fuck, you're like the only one who wanted to fucking touchback." One of the few that got under his skin worse than ink.

"Want to touch you everywhere." It was true, too. No lie, the man seemed intent on tracing every pattern, from ink to muscle to bruises.

"Yes." Rooster leaned and got their mouths together again, needing another one of those maddening, drugging kisses.

A low hum was his reward, Mark's hands coming up to sink into his hair, like Mark was intent on counting each strand to make sure they were still there. And the guy was humping against him, too, cock hard, needy.

He got one leg wrapped around Mark's hip, both of them rocking faster as their cocks slid together, hot and wet and fucking right.

"Fuck, Rooster. I can't... I was. Goddamn." Yeah, he could feel the fine tremors that rocked Mark's body, could tell that the man wasn't gonna last long. At least not this time.

---