He gets started placing the template on my thigh, and I shiver. It’s cold. I stare down at it imagining what it will be like. It seems weird to get a tattoo with him, but part of me really is as possessive as I tease. I want to stake my claim and mark my property in a sense. It’s a representation of something special we shared together for the first time, no matter how silly the tribute is.
We all continue to chat. Travis makes me so comfortable I don’t even realize he’s about to start. It’s not until he warns me right before he turns the tattoo gun on. I hold my breath, gripping Cas’s hand tight as I wait for the needle to make contact. My eyes squeeze shut the moment it does. Fuck! It burns.
The tattoo machine’s buzz grows into background noise as I grit my teeth and focus on anything but the pain. It’s not actually that bad, and after a few minutes my skin feels almost numb. An hour in his chair goes fast. The line work was nothing compared to the shading. The minute he switched to shading the design, I held on tight and may have broken one of Cas’s fingers.
A painful, cold sensation hits my leg, and I look down to find Travis wiping my tattoo down, cleaning up all the extra ink. Mentally, I count down the seconds until he applies the soothing goo to my irritated skin.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I love it!” I gasp.
Cas beams happily beside me.
“I’m glad. We’ll go over tattoo care while I clean up and reset for Cas.” Travis talks for another ten minutes about all the things that go into caring for a tattoo, and then it’s Cas’s turn.
I sit down in the chair Cas pulled up. He takes off his shirt, and I can’t stop staring. I watch with my eyes glued to him as Travis places the stencil on his chest, right over his heart.
He really is a hopeless romantic. “Over your heart? This was your surprise location, huh?”
“Surprise,” they say in unison.
“The two of you are trouble.”
They don’t deny it.
“Do you want me to hold your hand?” I ask.
“I’m a big boy, but if you insist.” He reaches for me. “I promise not to squeeze so hard I break your fingers.”
“I didn’t squeeze that hard. Stop it,” I whine.
He blows me a kiss right as Travis turns the tattoo gun on. Cas handles his tattoo like a champ. He chats through the entire thing like it’s nothing. At first I’m amazed, but then I remember the man is covered in ink, so maybe it really doesn’t bother him—or he’s at least worked his way up to it not bothering him.
Cas and Travis continue their conversation while he cleans up, and I snuggle up on the couch with a plate of cookies and flip on a movie. My reward for not crying even though it absolutely hurt like a bitch.
Once Travis has left, Cas comes over to crawl onto the couch next to me. He swipes the last cookie off my plate without asking and stuffs it in his mouth.
“You’re welcome for specifically saving that for you.”
He nods his head obnoxiously.
I stand, taking my empty dish into the kitchen and setting it in the sink. On my way back, I take the long way through the family room, swiping my gift from beneath the tree. Cas eyes me, amusement on his face. “What’s that you have there?”
I sway sheepishly a few paces away from him. “I know we agreed not to buy gifts, but I made this one. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Well, now I’m really intrigued,” he says, sitting up, “but don’t think I’m going to let this naughty behavior of yours slide.”
“I can’t wait to be punished,” I whisper in a sultry tone as I take a seat on his lap.
“Oh you think so, huh?”
“Thinks so, what?” I ask innocently.
“You think you can just walk over and sit on my lap?”
I nod my head playfully, biting my lip. “I’ve tried to be a good girl this year,, and it is Christmas Eve.
“You’re funny.” Cas chuckles.
