Basil’s own breath was a little shaky, but he shifted downward in the chair to get more comfortable, then nodded and motioned with his free hand for Derek to start.
Closing his eyes for a moment, just to ready himself, he switched on the machine and it whirred to life in his hand. Normally his first-time clients jumped a little at the sound, but he knew Basil wouldn’t react until he could feel it. He wondered what that would be like, to not know the impact of the first line until it hit your skin. He thought maybe it would be better like that, without the moment of overwhelming anticipation had by the loud buzz just before the needle sank in for the first time.
He smiled at Basil, an attempt to reassure him as he dipped the needle into the ink. He watched it drip down onto the table, then carefully reached over and laid his free hand over Basil’s. Their eyes met, and he tried his best to convey a message. I’ll take care of you, it will hurt, but it will be worth it. You’re safe with me.
Basil blinked after a moment, and he seemed to acknowledge it. His arm didn’t tense, so Derek brought the needle down and began.
Basil didn’t quite knowhow to describe the pain, except that it was startling and annoying, but not the agony he anticipated when he considered needles pulsing ink into his skin. The first touch jolted him, and he worried for a second like he’d caused Derek to slip, but the other man merely smiled serenely and met Basil’s eyes to reassure him it was fine.
And then he began to work, and it was possibly the most mesmerizing thing Basil had ever seen. Derek’s face was rapt with concentration and passion as he made short, clipped lines all around, not like the way he’d looked when he was merely drawing it out. The red lines soon became black. With every swipe of the kitchen paper, pulling away smears of ink, the tattoo started to come to life. The concentrated pain in every drag of the machine kept him consciously aware of what was happening, but he didn’t want to stop. Something about it made him want to keep going forever, for the pain to drag him to some place of euphoria and keep him there.
It was absurd, and maybe it was just his adrenaline talking, but really it didn’t matter. He was still here, and Derek’s free hand pressed to his skin, the glove warm as it kept him grounded like a ballast. Every so often, Derek would look up, their eyes would connect, saying a thousand things between them without voicing, without signing. Then he’d go back to work and lose himself again, and Basil would be helpless to look away.
Finally, when it felt like just short of eternity had passed, Derek stopped the machine. His skin felt numb in some places, stinging in others, and there was an almost visceral relief to have the vibrations go quiet. Derek swiped him down with something wet and a little soothing, then he grabbed some ointment and rubbed it into the skin.
It wasn’t done yet, that much was obvious. It was an outline, just the beginnings of what it would become, but already it was beautiful. He looked back up at Derek who was scribbling on a notepad, then he handed it over. Ten minute break, and if you’re up for it, we can keep going and I can fill andshade.
Basil just nodded, his hand not really up for moving enough to write a reply.
Derek didn’t seem to need one, and he took up the paper again. Do you want some food or drink? One of the guys usually gets dinner around now, and he can bring something.
Basil blinked, then grabbed his phone to tap out, Is it safe to eat during a tattoo?
Derek chuckled, his shoulders shaking with it as he replied, I’m not going to eat a sandwich and tattoo at the same time. It’ll be for after. But I can get you water or a fizzy drink. Or we have coffee. Whatever you want.
‘Water,’ Basil signed, tapping the edge of his W on his chin. He didn’t think caffeine would do him any favors being stuck in the chair for however long the rest of it took. Part of him wanted to tell Derek to save the rest for later—not just because his skin ached, but because it meant he’d have a reason to come back. But then again, he was sure this piece was far from over. He’d given Derek tacit permission to keep going for as long as he needed, until it was finished, and he knew this wasn’t it.
Watching Derek walk away, Basil studied the shining ink on his skin which was now marked forever, and he couldn’t help but smile. He turned on his camera and snapped a shot of the angry red, slightly raised lines, then sent it in a text to both Amaranth and Amit.
Amaranth: Nerd
Amit: That looks amazing. You done?
Basil: Shade flower sometime longer not sure time.
Amit: Right on, well send me a pic when it’s done. We can get a drink later if you want. I’m off at ten.
Basil: Text you.
He set his phone down just as Derek came back in and handed him a bottle of water. As Basil cracked the top, Derek took his arm and gently twisted it from side to side as he studied each line. When he was done, he gently set Basil’s arm down and signed, ‘You like?’
‘Beautiful,’ Basil replied. There was more he wanted to say, but Derek didn’t have the signs for it. Someday he would, someday Basil would be able to express just how much this meant to him, and he could be patient until then.
He sipped on his cool drink as Derek donned a fresh pair of gloves, then carefully sprayed something almost astringent onto a new bit of kitchen paper and wiped the ointment away. He adjusted his ink cups, added another shade of grey to the lineup, then looked back at Basil.
‘Ready?
Basil nodded and adjusted himself, laying his arm flat again. He watched as Derek drew his lower lip into his mouth, watched as he carefully extracted a new set of needles—these wider and a little more frightening—and set them into the machine. He watched the way Derek treated every piece on his table with a reverence and care that few people had for anything in their lives, and he wondered what it would be like to be treated that way. Would that be what real love was like? To have someone hold you and touch you like you were something precious?
Chad had said he loved Basil, but he had never touched him with sweetness. Possession, and mockery, and occasional concern—but never the way Derek did, as he gently laid his hand back down on Basil’s arm.
‘Ready?’ Derek asked again.
Basil wanted to tell him he’d be ready for the rest of his life, that he’d sit here and let Derek ink every exposed bit of skin if he wanted, if only it kept them in moments like these. But he didn’t say that—couldn’t, not in a way Derek would understand. So, he just nodded, and let his head fall back, and let himself feel it all.
CHAPTER TEN
Derek’s gloved thumb gently felt over the raised lines of the tattoo as he smeared ointment over the work. It was a practice he did daily—several times a day depending on his work-load, and yet for some reason, it felt hollow right now. Maybe it was because three nights before, he’d finally gotten his hands on Basil’s skin. He’d felt him heat up and cool down, tense and relax, pull back then submit as Derek inked his skin.
