The Final Stroke (A Fresh Taste of Ink #6-7)

by Daniel May

Trinket realized a moment later that Zee wasn’t even looking at Mini. He was looking at the blanket he had tucked in around Mini, inspecting his work.

“I’ve decided this is how I want to die,” said Mini, leaning back a little, looking out the window with an honestly content expression on his face. “Getting cucked by the man whose fiancé I’ve been fucking for months.”

He found his misery punctuated by a profound sense of relief. A sense of things becoming right in the world.

Mini shook his head. “Can’t have just one bonsai,” he said. “Can’t put all your hopes and dreams in one plant; you’ll kill it with so much attention. Sometimes what a tree really needs for growth is benign neglect. That’s why Trinket would be a mess with one. He’d pour his soul into the thing, it would sense emotional investment, and kaput. Dead tree.”

Zee stared at him. Neither of them let go of the collar, holding it taut between their fingers. “Why are you so invested in our relationship?” Zee asked suddenly, bluntly. Mini didn’t say anything. He still didn’t let go of the collar, only made steady eye contact.

“When I come to be just as comfortable, just as safe as Zee,” said Mini. “Will you be just as scared of being happy with me?”

“Should I turn my back and face the wall?” asked Mini, pointing behind him. “Or maybe you want to blindfold me? That could be hot, actually.” “You know,” said Trinket abruptly. “It doesn’t exactly turn me on to listen to you two argue.” “It actually kind of does it for me,” said Mini,

Mini kept cheerfully stripping, shirt off and tossed onto the hamper, then pants, struggling a little with the zipper with his splinted fingers. He made a face and sat back down to kick them off, working them down one leg at a time with little jerks of his foot. “Great striptease,” muttered Zee sarcastically. Mini heard him and grinned.

Something about being observed... it turned off the silent observer in Trinket’s head. He didn’t have to wonder what Mini would think, because Mini was right there. He trusted Mini’s feedback. And Mini wouldn’t have been shy about giving it. Mini lifted the load.

“Why the extra point off?” asked Zee. “Because you don’t moan nearly as much as he does,” said Mini.

Whatever snarky comment Mini would have made, they would never find out. Mini’s eyes drooped fully closed. His lips parted just a little, and he was still. Trinket was enchanted. “You put him to sleep,” he marveled under his breath. “How did you do that?” “He was tired,” said Zee. “Couldn’t you tell? Get him that blanket.”

“I’m glad you brought him home,” Zee murmured in his ear.

“We—” Zee delicately stressed the word. “—are going to find and bring home your other boyfriend. He’s half responsible for this mess, he doesn’t get to coast through your meltdown. This is a two man job.”

Finally, Mini made a low noise — something painful, something broken-sounding — and pushed up into Zee’s kiss, meeting his lips with a long, shuddering breath. An exhale. The sound of release, of an agonizing loneliness leaving the body.

Thank you for telling him he’s wanted. Thank you for telling him he deserves happiness. Thank you for telling him that he’s good, that he’s special, that he’s worth loving. I didn’t know how to tell him. I don’t have the words. I never could have found them, but you did. Thank you, and I love you.

“Mini,” said Zee calmly. “Let me make sure I understand correctly. Your present to Trinket is that you want a cat... for yourself.” “Yes,” said Mini.

Mini tried to turn away from the earnestness in Zee’s voice again, but Zee didn’t let him. He cupped Mini’s face, pressed their foreheads together again. “I want you,” said Zee, and repeated it again. Again. “I want you, I want you.” “Fuck,” mumbled Mini, and finally moved, wrapping first one arm around Zee’s neck, then the other.

“I’ve never been anyone’s bitch in my life,” said Mini. “No lie.” Earnest. Another jagged laugh, struggling to catch his air. “I don’t ‘do’ bitch... I talk dirty, and I walk out. But you can have it. You can own it. Just as long as you fuck me like that, make me come like that... I’ll wear your collar, lick your boots, any god damn day.”