MATTY
All week,I manage to not think about the reality of getting a tattoo. I pretend like I’m just going to waltz in to the shop, plop down in a comfy chair, and relax while Stone draws pretty pictures on my bicep.
When I arrive to Blade, though, my gut twists, and my anxiety spikes. I’m not actually a wimp, even though my dad called me that all the time growing up. Whenever his frustration with his effeminate son boiled over, that was the word that come cursing out between his lips.
But it’s not who I am. I’m strong enough to push through the sudden fear that Jeremiah might be waiting inside the shop, even though Stone promises that he’s gone, and I’m strong enough to grit my teeth and deal with a little pain.
It’s what Mixie would have wanted, after all.
Inside, the lights are dim, and Stone is waiting behind the counter, chatting with his mentor, Billie. There’s pop punk music on the stereo, which makes me grin immediately.
Knowing that Stone must have put that on for me goes a long way in countering the anxiety. He’s looking out for me, and that makes me feel as safe as I ever have.
We spent a couple nights together the past week, but I still missed those good feelings he gives me on the nights I slept alone.
“Matty,” Billie says with a smile. Her arms are folded over her chest, and my eyes dart across the vivid floral tattoos, just as beautiful as I remember them being. “Good to see you.”
“Hey, Billie!”
I cross over to Stone, and he reaches across the desk, greeting me with a quick, easy kiss. I know all the clients are gone, but after the scene at the tattoo convention, it still feels forbidden and kind of risky, kissing him right in the middle of the shop.
Kind of risky is hot, it turns out. And I’m suddenly not sure if my heart is pounding against my ribs like a sledgehammer because of him, because of the shop, or because I’m about to have a needle stabbing into my skin.
“You ready for your first ink?” Billie asks. “If I were getting a portrait done, I can’t think of a better artist than Stoner here to give it to me.”
Stone waves his hand, dismissing her, but the soft smile on his puffy lips tells me that he’s thrilled by the comment. “Whatever,” he says, his deep voice rumbling. “I’ll believe it when you give me my own studio at the shop.”
Billie winks at me. “Impatient, isn’t he?”
She says goodbye, and Stone and I are left alone. He’s wearing his standard uniform of black jeans and black sweatshirt, but I notice that he’s added a silver chain around his neck. I take it between my fingers and glance at it. “This is nice.”
“Thought I’d dress up for the special occasion.”
I grin. Behind a black cap, his shaggy hair is pulled back. He’s got the same cool, calm expression in his eyes as always, but I can feel an energy coming off of him, too.
He’s excited to give me the tattoo.
It’s hot.
“Come on back,” he says. “We’ll get set up.”
Billie’s tattoo room is covered in photographs of her work. It’s like being in a garden, the flower illustrations are so bright and rich, but I can barely take my eyes off of Stone long enough to look.
I take a seat on the long, cushioned chair, like at a dentist. Beside me, Stone’s hands move steadily across the counter as he prepares everything, squirting ink and inspecting needles. My pulse is skipping with anxiety, but the rhythm of his motion soothes me.
I’m totally out of my comfort zone, but that’s okay.
This is exactly what Milo was talking about. I need to push myself and not let my past hold me back, even if it does feel risky.
Stone turns and nods to me. “Pop that hoodie off, will you?”
I unzip it and toss it aside. “So demanding,” I tease.
Stone grins. “You can take as many clothes off as you want. Don’t need my permission.”
I laugh and dismiss him even as my cock warms at the suggestion. “I’ll stay dressed for this one, thanks.”
“Probably for the best. I can’t imagine anything more distracting.”
