Tattoo

Chapter 4

The pub was a place where every dark wizard eventually ended up, be that through influence or coercion, job or whim. It was merely standard among those aware of the tradition. Occasionally the odd light man or woman would stroll through, there was not much fuss made either way. The owners were good people with a comfort to provide for all, they didn't much care for the hidden barrier blocking the two types of wizards. Those of light decent were none the wiser, which was just as well for those seeking their solstice.

I had been here many times over the years, so much I have been contrived as a regular since sixteen. My dumbass father had taken me here young, so I was well known. Not to be messed with, said those with experience to the newcomers. A place of merriment fighting wasn't really tolerated unless it had merit. Often those who sought a challenge were just itchy.

I nurse a mead. My job had been taxing this time, stupid old folk with nothing of value getting caught up in a battle of property of all things. I'd seen fit to leave without getting paid, I wasn't about to kill a grieving widow for something she had no knowledge of. Her son deserved the beating I gave him though. Maybe that's why I drink, she kept begging me to stop. Suppose I don't know any better anymore.

The door creaked open, rusted latches not yet giving in to the ware of time, as yet another person with something to want from a drink walks through. A woman beside me with the plain features of a milkmaid sits up, something about the stranger must have caught her eye. None of my business who gets laid or not. Lots of ladies had been giving me the eye since I walked in, I could get away for a night if I want too. But needless sex had never really appealed to me, and the girls glancing are those who I know to be the whores of the area, I don't need some freaky STD.

The violent crash behind me drives out a sigh, and I look around peering from the corner of my eye.

Time runs slowly as a flash of pink is all I catch. I feel my body shift towards the commotion. Standing at the bar now watching as a fantastic display of violence and shocking grace as one of the most peculiar men I have ever seen grapples the well known tough guy of the pub. Holding him down on the floor with strong arms and thighs, a grin on his face so ridiculously ecstatic that I find myself watching a type of sparkling magnificence. The man beneath him struggling and grunting in effort. Pinkie catches my eyes, and the fire within is so bright that I find my mouth dry.

He's young, I can tell that much, baby fat remains around his jaw and fattening his cheeks out. But his body moves and contorts in a downright erotic fashion, can I really be blamed for watching?

"You got a problem buddy?!" The challenge he presents is interesting, but I can sense his magic is weak compared to mine, he must as well. I don't take the bait. Instead, I find my head shaking, and a pickup line spilling forth before I can stop myself.

"Nah, just enjoying the view, have to say, its a nice one. Though I'd prefer if your thighs were around my waist, or hips, whatever you prefer." His cheeks take only moments so blaze, and within the span of a minute a man of little hesitance and clear ability becomes a blushing virgin. It would be so endearing if we weren't within a pub full of men with non-disputable reputations. Not mentioning the fact that I have no idea of his affiliation or age.

Still, something must have caught his interest as he quirks me a coy smile. "I've tried the hips method, not a fan myself. I enjoy the challenge dominating from the bottom. If you think you can handle me, buddy." I have never wanted to fuck someone so badly in my life. I have to will away arousal. Something about this tiny man with the pinkest hair I've ever seen makes me want to find out more.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Its abnormal for me to do anything more than dive for the main activity, then again, this one is something special anyway. He lets the poor loser up and walks over.