Derek felt a small pang of betrayal when his eyes locked with Niko’s. The guy was leaning on Sage’s bench, and the two of them were bent over his ankle, discussing what looked like a very old, faded lion’s head right near his calf.
The silence and tension were almost tangible between them, then Niko cleared his throat and lowered his gaze. “Derek. Hey.”
Derek pursed his lips, looked over at his brother, but he didn’t see guilt, only a little awkward hesitation. “Hey,” he finally said.
“I swear I didn’t know you were coming in,” Niko rushed to explain. “I sort of surprised Sage—I figured if it was early enough, I’d miss you, and it wouldn’t be weird.”
“It’s fine,” Derek said a little tensely. He glanced at the clock and felt profound gratitude that Basil wasn’t coming in for another couple of hours. He turned his back away from Sage and pulled outhis sketch pad. He’d been working on a few design ideas, but Basil was set on the entire thing being drawn fresh, on his skin. Derek had only done a couple of those, and only on Sage and Mat. He wanted to have at least some reference, but he realized the idea wouldn’t come to life—not fully—until his machine was buzzing in his hands and the image was pouring out through the ink.
Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts, a throat cleared and he glanced over his shoulder to see Niko there, hands fidgeting. “Look,” he said slowly, “I understand why you don’t want to talk to me again. I don’t blame you. I was a real shithead, and I think the worst part was, I didn’t realize why until after you left.”
With a tiny sigh, Derek dropped his pencil on the table and spun his stool around. He considered just telling the guy to fuck off, but in truth, Niko was a good person and Sage had been right about one thing—he deserved the chance to grow past shitty assumptions. “Not one single person in this shop lives life without some sort of accommodation. We got wheelchair users, amputees, brain injuries, PTSD.”
Niko blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know.”
“I get that. You don’t know us. And I get it, because working here, it’s easy to forget. Talking to these people every day, you don’t really think about it. Everyone’s chill and we’re family, man. We don’t let those things define each other. But some nights, we can’t help it. Like when I have a panic attack which fucks me up for days. When I can’t let anyone touch me because it sends me to a dark place. Or like when my buddy Sam is fighting the system because the government suits think a man with tattoos and a wheelchair can’t properly care for a kid. Like when my boss and the only man who’s ever treated me like a real son asks us all to learn his daughter’s language because she deserves the world to bend to her, and not the other way around. And it don’t matter if she’s the only one, you know? She still deserves it.”
He was breathing slightly heavy after that, carefully watching Niko’s expression as the man took it all in. He wasn’t sure what toexpect, either. He didn’t think he’d deal too well if someone read him to filth without any sort of pull back or remorse, but Niko simply nodded and took a step back.
“I know. I knew it after you walked off and didn’t come back. I realized the kind of asshole I was because I had been lucky enough in life I never had to consider shit like that before, and I’m sorry.” He dragged a hand through his hair and glanced back, but Derek could see Sage had already vacated the main floor. When Niko looked back, his eyes were droopy and a little sad. “We had such a good time, and I fucked it up, and I’ll never stop being sorry for it.”
Derek felt a small pang in his chest. “It’s not okay, but it’s not something I plan to hold a grudge over.”
Niko’s lips twitched at the corners, like maybe he wanted to smile, though he didn’t let himself. “Would you,” he started, then stopped and huffed a breath, his eyes darting away for a second. “A drink? Would you go for a drink with me? Let me try again? Your brother was right about you—I like you and we could be good together. Even if it’s just as friends.”
Derek felt himself torn directly down the middle. Making headway with Basil felt like a tiny triumph, but he had no promise there would ever be more. And frankly, he didn’t exactly get along with most people, so it seemed a little reckless to let an opportunity like this pass him by. There was every chance that in the near future, his feelings for Basil would cool and he’d be ready to meet someone else.
That someone else might be standing right there in front of him.
“Yeah I…as friends. For now,” he clarified.
Niko’s face stilled, then he let himself grin, wide and sunny, eyes lit up with it. “Can I text you?”
“Yeah,” Derek said with a nod, then rolled back to his desk and turned around to face his table. “You can text me.”
Niko was long gonebefore Basil arrived for his session. Derek could feel the nerves on him, see it in the slight tremble of his fingers as he laid back in the chair and rested his arm on the cushioned side.
Derek had his gloves on, and he quickly pulled out his bottles of alcohol, witch hazel, and his tube of ointment. He watched Basil out of the corner of his eye as he dabbed some of the ointment on the little cups, then carefully filled them all with his colors. It would be simple today, he wanted outline and shading on the bloom, and a little shadow around it. And then…well, he wasn’t sure. He’d wait for Basil’s skin to speak to him, but he knew there would be more. Basil’s skin was singing for it.
When he finished up, he switched his gloves and grabbed his razor and bottle of alcohol. Before he began, he caught Basil’s eye and signed, ‘Nervous?’
Basil’s face twitched a little, then he let out a breathy laugh and held his hand out flat, see-sawing it back and forth.
‘Pain?’ he signed, trying desperately to recall the signs he’d practiced so diligently in order to communicate it all effectively with him. ‘You hate pain?’
Basil licked his lips, then signed, ‘New,’ mouthing the word along so Derek could be sure what he was saying.
‘If you want to stop, tap me,’ Derek told him, then gave his left arm a pat. ‘We will go slow, we can take breaks.’
Basil’s mouth eased into a smile, and he reached for the little notepad he’d brought with him. You practice all signs for today?
Derek flushed and quickly wrote back, Is it obvious?
Basil shook his head, but Derek knew it didn’t mean no. He was wearing a fond grin and his eyes were soft, like he might have even found it endearing. Ready to begin, ready to break the intensity between them, he carefully took Basil’s arm in his hand, sprayed it with the alcohol, and removed as much of the hair as he could. Tossing the razor in the bin, he swiped Basil’s arm down, then reached for his pen. He wasn’t going to do everything, but he was going to give himself a place to start. The pedals came to life in redink as he sketched, just the bare outlines, the image more in his head than anywhere else. He could see it forming, taking shape, becoming something more beautiful and alive than the rough lines on Basil’s skin now. When he was finished, he stared at just how much of Basil’s arm it took up, and it looked right. Glancing up, he saw Basil’s gaze fixed on his arm, and it stayed there for a while. When he finally looked up, Derek nodded to him, and Basil’s lips stretched into a tight smile.
Derek had the machine prepped and ready, fresh gloves on, his fingers itching to take up his machine and get to work.
He loved this part of the job more than anything, that first line drawn on fresh skin, watching the ink imbed itself into a person as a permanent symbol of his work. And with Basil, it felt deeper, it felt more important. He breathed out, then signed, ‘Ready?’
