A Touch of In

FUCK OFF SHANE! I QUIT!" screamed Terry.

Terry Raines clenched his fists tightly to face his boss Shane Axel. Sure at 5'8, 150 pounds, the dark haired, brown eyed Terry could get his ass beat by the hulking brute towering over him. He figured he would take his chances.

Terry knew 36 year old Shane better than the employees that worked for him. Not even Shane's sister Greta had an inkling. Despite the aggressive demeanor of this 6'2, buzzed cut, sandy blond haired, blue eyed giant covered in body art, Shane had an angelic soul. Terry knew this. He just needed to appeal to his employer's common sense. Like David facing Goliath, he stared his opponent in the eye.

"You're being an asshole Shane!" he spat. "You just won't admit it!"

A wave of applause broke out in the shop of Underground Ink. Both patrons and workers clapped in agreement in reference to Shane's unreasonable conduct. Many of whom have witnessed the owner's erratic behavior firsthand. Others had been at the brunt of it. Either way everyone was supporting the underdog in this battle. They had Terry's back.

"Give him hell Terry! About time someone had the balls to call my brother an asshole!" Greta whooped.

Distracted by the argument, she almost forgot about the client she had been inking. A light tap to her arm made her aware that she needed to finish the tattoo on his back. The 33 year old green haired, facially pierced, ink artist finally got the hint from her customer who kept tapping her wrist. Dragging the vibrating needle down the customer's flesh, she rolled her eyes in annoyance due to the fact that she hated missing out on all sorts of drama.

"Hold your horses bud, it's not she's gonna break up with you after you tatted her name on your skin."

Greta winked to Terry acknowledging the fact that most couples do break up once ink is exchanged. Terry immediately felt sorry for the poor customer on Greta's ink bed.

"Greta! Stay out of this!" Shane threatened. "Or maybe I should fire your ass!"

"Leave her alone Shane!" interrupted Terry. "She's one of the best tattoo artists you've got! Her list of celeb clients alone bring in money to this place! Do you want to lose business because of your stupid, fucking pride?"

"FUCK ALL OF YOU THEN!" shrieked Shane. "HEY COLLEGE BOY! IF YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN MY SHOP BETTER THAN ME, THEN FUCKING GO RIGHT AHEAD!"

"Shane, what the fuck?" said Terry. "You just can't walk out on your business. You got clients booked all day!"

"FUCK THEM!" he snapped. "OH AND TERRY! TELL THOSE FUCKERS ON WALL STREET TO SUCK MY DICK!" Sliding on his leather jacket, Shane slammed the door behind him.

The rest of the tattooists of Underground Ink remained speechless. They could not believe their eyes. For the first time in ten years since the shop opened, their boss and owner Shane Axel had completely quit his business. As the artists looked at each other befuddled, Terry finally spoke up.

"Not to worry people," he reassured the crew. "Shane in his normal fashion is blowing off steam. He'll calm down and come back to the office. Right now I'm still your manager and I'm still in charge. It's business as usual. Let's just get through the day."

And they did.

Later that evening.

11:00 p.m. rolled around with Terry sending everyone home. Greta remained offering to help her friend close up shop. After totaling up the day's figures, they congratulated one another on turning a profit. Even with the earlier outbursts that occurred at Underground Ink, it did not affect the company's sales for the day.

At least Shane could be grateful for that. Shane began cleaning the machines while Greta swept. Both remained silent. The suspense was killing her. She had to say something.

"Terry what was the real deal that happened earlier?" she asked him. "I've never seen my brother so upset."

"Oh that's just Shane being Shane," he replied.

"Get off it, Terry," she prodded. "There's more to story that you're not telling me. We're all friends here. Level with me. What is going on?"

The question threw Terry off. He was not prepared for it. Hoping to avert issue, he ignored her wiping away any of the ink residue off the machines. Still, Greta Axel would not be discouraged. She continued her interrogation.

"Terry, I've known you for four years." Greta grinned. "I remember when you were some 21 year old fresh faced college kid who was going to graduate school. You needed a job and applied here to be the manager of Underground Ink."

"How could I forget," he responded. He glanced at her giving her a great, big smile. "You guys didn't make it easy for me. I stuck out like a sore thumb. Here I am. This nerdy, brainy kid from business school wearing a three piece suit trying to get a job at a tattoo parlor surrounded by people who looked they just got out of prison."

"Oh that brings back memories," she laughed. "The crew and I had a pool going of how long you were going to last. Personally, I had you in for thirty minutes. Damn Terry, you owe me a new pair of Doc Martens!"

"Send me the bill Greta," he teased. "Yeah, you guys gave me a hard time but Shane saw through all that. He never gave up on me."

"And eventually you became part of the team," Greta added. "Who knew that some average Joe off the street that knew nothing about tattooing would make Underground Ink the success it is today? This leads me to my next question. What was the fight between you and Shane about?"

"You are not going to let up?" Terry sighed. "The truth is I'm considering a job offer for a marketing position with big time ad agency in New York City. Shane found out about it and blew his lid."

"You not seriously going to take it are you?" she asked.

"I don't know Greta," he responded. "It's a lucrative offer with a high salary. Plus, it is what I went to school for. Besides, there is really nothing keeping me here."

"Nothing keeping you here?" she clucked. "You ungrateful asshole! What about the friends you've got here? Me! Your tattooing crew! More importantly, Shane?"

Terry looked up at her with surprise. Did she know? Of course, she did.

"Don't try to play dumb with me Terry Raines!" she told him. "Like I didn't know that you and my brother were fucking each other, just come out of the closet already! Nobody cares!"

"For your information Miss Know-It-All I've been out of the closet since I was seventeen," he corrected. "It's your brother that doesn't know where we stand or what he wants. You know as I do, he's not big on sharing his feelings. I deserve better than just a relationship based on sex. I can't wait around for someone who is still trying to grow up and find out who he is!"

Greta took a minute to breathe. "Terry, you need to know something about me and my brother Shane. We grew up in Utah in a small, religious Mormon town where our father was the church pastor. After Shane came out to him our father threw him out of the house."

"Why didn't he tell me any of this?"

"My brother tends to bottle up his feelings. I'm not a shrink but I'm guessing he presents this tough guy exterior to mask the truly, broken person underneath."

Terry cast his eyes down. "I guess that explains why he won't connect with me."

"Maybe but I've noticed a change in him," she noted. "Anyway, Shane eventually made his way to Los Angeles and started up Underground Ink. I later joined him and the rest is history."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"I'm telling you this because you've somehow broken down his barriers. I don't know how you did it but it you managed to get through to him. You're special Terry Raines. You just don't know it."

"Oh come on," chuckled Terry. "I'm just some nerd with good business sense and the organizational skills to help pull this struggling business out of a hole."

Greta giggled. "Yeah but you're the nerd who gave us a much needed kick in the ass. You helped turned Underground Ink around these past four years to become the success that it is today. Plus, you got Shane to smile. My brother never smiles!"

"I think that is the acridine dye from the tattoo ink that is making him euphoric," smirked Terry.

"Personally I prefer the naphthol derivatives," she teased. "You get both a stimulant and depressant out of it. It's like Red Bull and vodka. It gives you wings!"

They broke into a fit of laughter just as the door opened.

"Sorry buddy, we're closed!" said Greta.

"FUCK OFF GRETA!" The voice shouted. "Take your ass home! I need to talk to Terry ALONE!"

The 200 lb muscular Neanderthal did not look happy. Greta made a quick getaway before any other drama played out. Though she secretly wished she had a front row seat, the younger sibling did not want incur the wrath of Hurricane Shane. The door slammed after Greta left.

Shane locked the door, drew the blinds, all remaining silent while he stared at Terry. A minute passed and not even a grunt from Shane, Terry became annoyed so he made himself comfortable on the seat of the reception area of the shop.

"Okay Shane, let's have it out right here since no one is watching," he told him. "You know you have a problem with me accepting that job in New York so you might as well come out as say it!"

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," answered Shane. "I was being an ass. Look you're the best manager this company has ever had. I panicked a little. New York is a good opportunity for you. I can't hold you back. It was selfish of me so I'm apologizing. I want to make it up to you."

Shane said nothing more as he entered his office, returning with a large envelope carrying a wad of bills, and handed it to Terry. Terry flipped through the currency amazed at Shane's generosity.

"This should be the last of your pay for the rest of the week plus a little extra as a bonus," Shane explained. "I'll take care of the rest your shifts until I can find a replacement for you since you need time to pack." He turned his back on Terry to return to his office.

Surprised by his abruptness, Terry followed.

"Shane thank you," said Terry. "This is quite...um generous."

"You're welcome," replied Shane; his back still facing him. "You've earned it. Is there anything else?"

Nervously, Terry thought for a minute. "Yes, there is."

"What?"

"Shane, I want...I want...a tattoo!"

Shane's eyes widened. "Terry, are you sure? You know ink is permanent. Tattoos stay with you forever. Are you still sure about this?"

"Positive," said Terry. "You know I've always been the vanilla guy here. I'm the only employee of yours who has refused to have any body art done to him. It'll be like a memento of my time here at Underground Ink. I want you to do it Shane. Hell, I'll even pay you for it!"

"No Terry, you've done enough for me," reassured Shane. "It's on the house. Which one were you thinking and where you want it done?"

"A row of interlocking hearts but none of that cartoon shit. You can do some cool, tribal design on my back going down my spine to the curve of my ass," he said with conviction.

"Terry!" exclaimed Shane. "That area is really sensitive to pain. I don't think you can handle it."

"That is why I am requesting you to do my tattoo," said Terry. "You'll be gentle. They're will be less pain involved."

"Fine." Shane clucked. "Get yourself ready!"

Terry laid himself face down on the ink bed. He stripped himself completely naked. He did not mind since he had been intimate with Shane before during their intimate time together. His heart beat rapidly as he heard the vibrating noise of Shane preparing the tattoo needle.

"Just relax Terry," whispered Shane in his ear. "I'm going to try to make this as comfortable for you as possible." A sanitized cloth fell across his shoulder and back as he felt Shane's rubber glove massage the back of his flesh. He could hear the closeness of the needle as his body tensed. He could sense it come closer to his skin. Then silence.

"I can't," said Shane.

"What?" Terry asked rising with his hip displayed on the counter. "What's wrong Shane?"

"I won't mark your skin Terry," confessed Shane pushing the needle away. "I'm sorry but I can't deface something that is already perfect."

"You do it all the time to our customers," said Terry. "Why not me?"

"Because I don't have feelings for them!" confessed Shane. "I only care about you!"

"You don't want me to go, do you Shane?"

A tear welled up in Shane's eye. "No it hurts too much inside. Terry, I can't promise you anything or give you what you need but believe me when I say that I don't want to lose you!"

"I believe you Shane," replied Terry. "Now Shane, why don't you come over here and show me how much you need me? I want more than just fucking Shane. I want to be connected to the man hidden inside you. All of you."

"Let's see if I can oblige my client on this one," teased Shane.

He kicked off his shoes, socks, pants, and shirt just to lie next to Terry. Their mouths met as their tongues wrapped each other in their moist warmness. Arms interlocked, Terry's hands pressed into Shane's back as he massaged the intricate lines of ink that crisscrossed his lover's spine. Shane moved his mouth to caress Terry's neck as he heard him gasp just as a nibble was felt on the nape of Terry's shoulder and Adam's apple.

Both men knelt down in front of one another as Shane took Terry's hand guiding him down the lines of his incredible body art. Each ripple of his finger stroked, massaged and rubbed against the ink covering and concealing every concave of Shane's well developed chest and erected nipples. Terry kissed each dark trace of ink finding the small bumps around Shane's areolas playfully sucking each nub before lowering his tongue down the deep grooves of his six pack abdomen, navel, and finally the nest of curls where Shane was standing at full attention.

Cupping one hand around his sack, Terry stroked Shane slowly listening to him moan as he playfully caressed each round orb into his mouth as Shane tried to hold back his pleasure. A small emission of pre-ejaculate released giving Terry the next cue to cover his mouth on Shane's massive cock tasting the saltiness of his seed and swallowing him whole. Terry lifted and lowered his head in rhythm as Shane happily obliged him by bucking his hips in the same melody as Terry played an erotic tune with his enormous girth.

Pleased with his lover's attention to detail, Shane withdrew from Terry's mouth and scrambled to the drawer counter's looking for something.

"Lube and condoms fifth drawer on your right," smiled Terry as he watched his lover rapidly grab the accoutrements of their love making.

"Thanks," grinned a wicked Shane as he ripped the condom package spread on the lube.

Squirting the transparent substance on his middle finger, he teased Terry's opening with the tip of his finger before slowly inserting a moist finger within him. Terry marveled at his tightness as his felt another of Shane's finger spreading him gently. Letting a soft moan, he unexpectedly grabbed Shane's wrist as prepared for the final phase of their consummation.

"Terry, I don't want to be so rough with you this time," explained Shane. "Am I hurting you?"

"Shane, it's okay," purred Terry. "You're not."

Shane released his fingers from Terry, spreading his thighs wide and laying his legs across his shoulders. Finding that sacred of his bottom, he slowly entered Terry's perineum. The tightness engulfed him as he felt pressure of his shaft being pleasured by Terry's holy spot. Terry moaned in agreement in response to Shane plunging himself deep inside him causing him to curl his toes with each sensation. Both men grunted and groaned as the echoes of flesh colliding filled the room with an erotic atmosphere of sexual deviancy.

"Shit! Terry you're tight!" Shane slammed into him.

"Fuck me! Ahh...fuck me!" Terry shouted bucking his hips alongside his lover.

The rhythm continued and progressed as Terry and Shane looked at each other and smiled. Shane could not contain himself how beautiful his lover was and could not hold back any longer. Erupting in a gusher of masculinity, he climaxed filling his condom laced shaft with enough sperm to rebuild the planet's population. Terry did the same as he stroked his own shaft and emptied his own jism on to Shane's thigh. Both men embraced once again as they let their lips and tongues intertwine to finalize their lovemaking bliss before drifting off to sleep.

Terry awoke the next morning still on the ink table as felt a tickle across his back. A strange aroma filled his nostrils as he stared at his lover holding a paint brush and a jar of red ink in his hand. Terry stared in the mirror and could see what appeared to be some intricate tribal lines that resemble interlocking hearts falling down his back.

"Shane, what are you doing?" giggled Terry.

"I'm finishing up the tattoo like you requested," said Shane. "Temporary, of course. Henna ink. No pain and it washes off in a few days. I have to mark what is mine."

"Wait, so you're saying I'm your property now?" clucked Terry. "So you're acknowledging the fact that we're now together?"

"Absolutely babe," smiled Shane. "I'm officially out of the closet. I'm sure we can work out the long distance thing if you take that job in New York."

"Shane, I'm not taking the job!" replied Terry. "I'm game to stay here and make this work if you are! Besides Underground Ink needs me especially when we have a temperamental owner and some employees who need some shaping up!"

"Absolutely babe," answered Shane. "Whatever you want? But you do know you'll be working some late...long...hard... nights with the boss, right?"

"It would be my pleasure to do make sure the job is done right," purred Terry. "I love you Shane."

"I love you Terry."

They proved it to one another by sharing another passionate kiss. However, that quickly got interrupted when Greta walked in.

"Well it's about fucking time!" she said. "So does that mean you guys are going to the whole gay marriage thing and adopt some kids from Asia?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP GRETA!" screamed Shane.

END.