Gemini
Gemini
by Chris Owen
Torquere Press
Copyright ©2004 by Chris Owen
First published in torquerepress.com, 2005
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2
Gemini
by Chris Owen
Chapter One
So, I'm at work last night, just doing my shit.
Clearing out a bunch of old tat mags, trying to keep the
place from being an utter dump, when this guy comes
in. I'm watching him out of the corner of my eye as he
checks the place out, and I'm wondering what the fuck
he's in here for. He's doing all the right 'new to tattoo
parlor' shit, looking at the health inspection certs and
stuff, but he just looks so wrong in here.
He's real tight-laced looking, wearing jeans and sneakers, and this t-shirt that looks like it was ironed; not a wrinkle or loose bit about him. He's got light hair, cut real short, and he looks like he'd be more comfortable in a lecture hall somewhere discussing politics. Municipal politics.
I finish sorting the mags and watch him looking at some art on the walls. Celtic stuff, intricate knot work. Not the thick bands, but delicate tats that take some time and are totally worth the effort. He's about my age, I think, but he looks way younger, really soft around the edges. And he looks so scared, I wonder if he's about to piss himself.
So I wander over and look at the flash with him. I point to one of the knots, a lacy vine thing that is gorgeous and not as girly as it sounds. "That's a nice one."
He looks and me and nods, gives me this shy smile. He's got green eyes.
"Yeah. Not here for art though. Got an appointment with Bobby in about five minutes."
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Gemini
by Chris Owen
I blink and look him over. Bobby is the piercer, and I've got this guy figured for maybe an eyebrow ring—something to scare his parents with, but nothing too exotic.
"Yeah?" I say, "What're you getting done?" I kind of quirk an eyebrow at him, trying to look friendly 'cause he's hot.
Still, I'm not really picturing this guy going in for body mods.
He kind of looks away from me for a second, then back.
"Nipple."
And I can't help it, I grin and bring my hand up to my chest and press my shirt tight, showing my own off. "Hey, you should get them both done," I say and wonder why the hell I'm saying it. Then my mouth keeps talking. "Then you can link them with a chain, like I do. Feels real cool."
His eyes get a little wild and he looks me up and down, then grins. "Can I see?"
So what do I do? I lift my shirt for the pretty boy. Not sure where my brain is at this point. I've got rings in both nipples and this fine gold chain linking them. He's staring at my chest and I can feel myself start to get hard, 'cause, well, I'm me.
Then he reaches a hand out to me, and pulls it back.
"Go ahead," I say. Shy always gets to me—I think it's a personality flaw. Maybe.
He reaches out to me again and fingers the chain lightly, then steps a little closer and tugs on it. He's holding my eyes and he's working the chain like he knows exactly what it's doing to me, sending bolts of fucking fire to my cock, and then he says, real quiet, "Like that, do you?"
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Gemini
by Chris Owen
I nod and try to grin, but he's looking me up and down, real slow and his eyes are hot and I can see he's getting hard in his jeans.
Bobby sticks his head out the door and calls him, so he lets go of my chain and smiles at me. Says, "Yeah, maybe I'll do both." Then he's gone.
I go to the desk and hunt up his release form. His name is Paul and I was right, he's my age. Exactly. We share a birthday.
When he comes out he's got both nipples done and orders to keep a chain off until they heal. When he leaves he's got a business card with my name and number on the back.
* * * *
He was pretty though, and he was into me, I thought. Little disappointing, but I guess that just shows that I'm lonely and a sucker for pretty boys with green eyes who look like they're needing to be debauched.
Then I was at work, about three weeks later, right about the supper rush time. It's amazing how many people stop in on a weeknight on their way home from work, just to look at the art on the walls, or talk about mods. Anyway, I was at the desk, booking in this chick who was having trouble deciding between this fairy with anime eyes or a classic dolphin for her ankle. I'm being nice to her, setting up the appointment and shit, but I'm thinking "Christ, lady, this is fucking permanent ink, you're gonna have it for a long time. A tat should mean something to you, not be a pretty little whim that you put 5
Gemini
by Chris Owen
on." I mean, I do the inking, but shit, I only have two tats myself. Mind you, they're pretty fucking mind bending. I just get so sick of people coming in and picking something from the wall just 'cause they want a tattoo. People have actually told me that they just want one because so and so has one, and everyone else does, too.
The ones I really like are the ones people design for themselves. I've seen some pretty crappy artwork, but if the person wants it and has taken the time to create an image for themselves ... that's cool.
Where was I? Oh, right, dolphin chick. So, I'm booking her in and I look up and see Paul, leaning against the wall watching me. I grin at him and finish up with the lady, and then walk over to him. He's wearing fucking slacks and a button-down shirt. And dress shoes.
"Hey, Paul. You just off work?" I ask.
"Yeah. How are you doing, Gent?" He smiles at me, pretty shy but sweet, too, and his eyes are warm. So I forgive him for not calling.
"'M good," I say. "How's the piercing? Healing okay?"
There's people fucking everywhere, moving around us and looking like they need help. I'm just ignoring them, moving closer to Paul.
"It's good," he says and nods. Then he looks right at me and sort of licks his lips, looking nervous all of a sudden.
Before, he was just leaning on the wall, now he's more bracing himself than leaning and I move closer, not sure what he wants, but hey, I'm me. I can hope.
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Gemini
by Chris Owen
"Uh, was just wondering when you finish up here for the night," he says, his eyes looking away and then back to me, real fast. "Wondered if maybe you wanted to go for a drink or something. Shoot some pool. Whatever."
I smile at him, and nod. "Yeah, that'd be cool. Not done until about ten though, is that okay?"
He smiles back, a little flushed, and it's just so damn sweet. "No, not a problem. I'll come back then, if that's..."
"Yeah, that's okay. Very." I'm in his personal space now, and he's not looking like he minds. I'm even thinking that I might try a move, something small, but then Bobby, Goddamn him, is hollering for me to get my ass to the desk.
"I'll see ya later then," I say and move away.
"Yeah. Later."
* * * *
Bobby looks at me, sort of like What the hell are you thinking?, and I just grin at him. He lets Paul in and comes over to me. "He's not your type, Gent."
I grin at him again. "Why not?"
Bobby rolls his eyes. "Straighter than a ruler, idiot."
"Hey, he asked me." Yeah, I smirk and look at Paul out of the corner of my eye. Damn, he looks good. He's changed his clothes and now he's got on dark pants, kind of loose but not baggy, and a leather jacket. Nice black leather, well worn.
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Gemini
by Chris Owen
Bobby just shrugs and moves away so I go over to the wall where Paul's looking at art. I hold his arm, just above the elbow, and he turns to look at me. God, those eyes of his are just so fucking green.
"Hey," I say. "You ready to go?"
He nods and kind of tilts his head to the side and I can see his skin start to flush. I slide my hand down his arm and he takes my hand as we leave.
We walk down the street like that, just taking about shit.
Find out he works at City Hall, and doesn't that just make sense. I tell him we have the same birthday and we talk about the differences in time zones until we figure out that he's about six hours older than me. He knows to the minute when he was born, but I just have an approximate hour.
"So," I say as we wander down a street, "You want to drink? Play pool? Whatever?"
He grins and says, "Yeah."
Yeah, he's into me. Cool.
We go into this bar I know, a dark little place called the Razor's Edge, and since it's early there's almost no one there.
Taff, the guy at the bar, just hands me my beer and raises an eyebrow at Paul, who nods and gets the same. We walk over to the pool tables and he takes off the jacket and I swear I just about pass out. He's got this fucking tight black t-shirt on and I can see his nipple rings clear as shit. I get hard just looking at him.
We shoot a couple games of pool and I think he's nervous,
'cause he loses the first one real bad. He wins the second one though. Maybe because my cock is throbbing and I can't see 8
Gemini
by Chris Owen
to line up the shots properly. Or maybe he's just better at pool when he's had a beer.
He's lining up to break for the third game and I finish my beer, then go stand behind him, lean over and put my hand on the cue. He pushes back into me, and glances over his shoulder, with this wicked grin that makes my cock leap. He scratches on purpose and turns around, pretty much right into my arms.
"Whoops. Is it time for whatever now?" he asks, one hand landing on my hip.
"Fuck, yes. C'mon." I lead him out of the bar, trying to figure out where the hell to go, and he grabs me from behind and pulls me in the other direction, away from the street. We go down the alley and around a corner, and then he's got me up against the wall, his mouth on mine.
He tastes like beer and toothpaste, and something else.
Not sure what, don't care. I can feel his prick against mine as he grinds me into the wall.
"Oh yeah," I manage as he pulls back and undoes my pants. "Touch me." His breath is hot on my skin and I'm pretty much panting for it.
He's got my cock out and in his hand, pulling at me with one fist as his other hand goes in my shirt and finds my chain. He plays with it a bit and moans when I work my hand into his pants, feel his dick hot in my hand.
He's kissing me and jerking me off, one hand teasing my nipple rings and I'm about to blow right there in some scummy alley.
