Page 6 of Spilled Ink

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He leaned back in his chair, filling out more paperwork for the health department. It wasn't his favorite part of the job, but it kept him out of trouble and shit, so Rooster did it religiously. Especially when the college was having fucking rush week and twelve zillion big haired girls came to get matching hearts and stars and flowers on them.

Christ, he'd heard nothing but squealing and giggling for hours.

Now he heard the little bell over the door, but no giggling or cheap perfume came with it, just... silence.

He didn't bother looking up, just called out. "If you're gonna rob the joint, I've already closed the safe."

"Does that mean you don't have change if I pay cash?" Oh, now. That voice rang a different bell, somewhere in the back of his head.

Oh. Cop. Gay. Sad. Hot. Badge 5633. Hot as hell when he came. "Hey, officer. How's the ink?" Rooster angled up, headed out to the counter.

"Good. Real good. You do fine work, man." Those pretty eyes wouldn't quite meet his. The guy had been a little skittery after what they did the last time, all but running once he recovered.

"I do. Let's see it. You have a new partner yet?" He pushed his hair back, looking Mark over. The man looked fine, healthier, stronger.

"Yeah. Younger than me. More of a go-getter. But he's okay." Mark finally met his eyes, smiled, not near as awkward as he'd thought.

"You like him. Good." Rooster grinned and winked. "Sucks working with assholes."

"Yeah. So true. Anyway, I was thinking about some new ink. To commemorate it, you know?"

"Yeah? You got a concept?" His fingers started itching for paper and ink; he could so get into that skin again.

"I was thinking of something." Those eyes cut away, then back. "It might be cheesy, but you're so good I figure you can make it better."

"Hey, man. I swear, no cheese. Tell me." He'd done everything from lips around a man's asshole to Speed Buggy.

"I was thinking of a phoenix. Something a little abstract, so it fits with the rest of my stuff. Someplace a little more private than the arm bands, but not... super ow. You know?" That look was a lot less tentative, a lot hotter. Reminding him of last time.

"Hmmm." Rooster couldn't stop his grin, couldn't help licking his lips. "Okay. You want it on your shoulder? Your calf?" He reached out, fingers sliding down the cop's belly, stroking that little hollow made by hip and belly. "Here?"

Mark jumped for him, the man's breath catching. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be a good spot. It's not one I want questions about."

"Let me lock up and draw it out." Tuesdays were his slow night; Mark had remembered. He turned out the lights, locked the front door and went for his pens. God, he fucking loved his job.

Wandering a little, Mark looked at all of the drawings and photos on the wall. "So, how's business?"

"Good. Always busy. Tattoo Expo's coming up. I'm showing a few models. You?" Okay, fire. Flames. Bird.

"Business is always booming for me, too." He got a short, sharp laugh. "But I'm not on admin leave, so it's all good."

"Yeah, guys like you need things to occupy yourselves. What's the new partner's name?" He worked up grasping claws, a hooked beak. He could remember how Mark smelled when he came -- all male and musky.

"Donny. He's ambitious as hell, but not obnoxious about it. Works his ass off, to give him credit." Warm breath stirred his hair, Mark leaning over his shoulder a little. "You're damned good."

"It's my job." The temptation to lean back and rub was fairly high on the urge-scale. "You work nights, usually?"

Chest pressing briefly against his back, Mark nodded. Rooster felt the motion against his cheek. "Yeah. I mean, we work whatever they give us, shift-wise, but ninety percent of that is nighttime."

"It's a different world in the dark, man." The urge to reach back, grab onto one thigh and squeeze teased him, but he waited, leaned back a little. He'd get his. He knew it.

"Mmmm." The sound vibrated against his neck, the guy not really all over him, but so close, so hot. Watching the fiery bird take shape. "Oh, I like it."

"Yeah? Nice and spiky, with some motion. It'll feel like heaven, somebody running their tongue over it, after."

Mark jerked, moving back so nothing jostled his drawing. "Yeah? I've never had one in such a sensitive spot." Yeah, but the man wanted it. Bad.

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