Work Text:
it starts with the tattoo artist with the pretty nails.
every time jungwoo walked by, the other would be at the front desk, tapping his long, beautifully manicured nails on the counter. sometimes they were a simple shade of emerald, sometimes bright pink with rhinestones, sometimes intricate nail art or gradient patterns.
jungwoo deeply admired the nails every time.
-
"please, please come with me, you know i’m scared of needles..."
"then why are you getting a tattoo?" jungwoo stares evenly at his sister, who is peering at him with big, wobbly eyes. fuck. he cant resist the big wobbly eyes.
yeri’s expression sharpens for a moment, theatrics dropped.
"you can see that cute boy at the counter."
he wheezes.
"...fine. but you're getting me fries afterwards."
-
the door chimes merrily as the pair walk through. jungwoo is delighted to see that cute nails boy is working.
cute nails boy raises a brow (a...pierced brow wow thats. thats really hot, actually) at the timid looking pair.
yeri steps up and begins describing what she wants. it is small and simple, and the place isn’t elite enough to warrant the usual intense consultation and design process that tattoo artists tend to go through.
cute nails boy turns his head, earrings glittering in his ear, and calls someone (equally pierced and tattooed) over.
"she will take you to the back." he gestures.
jungwoo makes to follow, but cute nail boy puts his hand out to stop him.
god, his nails are especially perfect today. a shimmery golden shade, with white lines swirled throughout.
jungwoo the fool is so busy swooning over the nails in his face that he had missed what the boy was saying. oops.
"what?" he says intelligently.
"our artists don’t usually allow spectators back there. it makes them nervous, and no one wants a nervous tattoo artist."
his sister looks like she’s going to cry at the news, but then sees the pretty girl who will be feeling up her leg and isn’t really all that bothered anymore.
that leaves cute nails boy and him. alone. staring at each other. cute nails boy’s face is twisting like he doesnt know what to do with himself and he’s really unhappy because of it.
"so wh-"
"HOW ARE YOUR NAILS SO NICE!" shouts jungwoo, red creeping up his neck immediately after the outburst.
cute boy --ahem, cute NAILS boy, yeah. yeah thats all this is-- blinks owlishly at him. "i...paint them?"
"can you paint mine too?"
"this is a tattoo parlor, kid."
"i know but i just, i just..." he trails off, boldness escaping his body like air out of a balloon. he holds up his chewed up, bleeding hands in defeat. the boy lifts jungwoo's hand critically.
"nail biter, huh?" he remarks, examining the cuticles and torn edges of the nails.
jungwoo shifts sadly, "...yeah. the picking is worse than the biting, but i figured nail polish to stop the biting was at least a start," he looks down, mumbling, "while i try to figure out the rest."
cute nails boy tilts his head. "alright, i’ll do it. no charge" he adds after jungwoo begins to pull a crumpled up ten dollar bill from his bag.
jungwoo flushes, but accepts shyly. he leaves with nails a brilliant shade of red. the other boy leaves later that day with cheeks flushed the same color.
a day and a half later (and a few hours, but hey, uh. who’s counting, right?) jungwoo slams the door to the quiet parlor open, grinning. he bounds over to the counter, rousing cute nails boy from his phone. huffing victoriously, jungwoo brings his hands up slowly and spreads his fingers proudly.
cute nails boy cocks an eyebrow.
“ look, ” jungwoo beams, “they’re all intact. the nail polish. i haven’t picked a bit!”
(neither of them mention the bloody, torn nail beds. progress is progress, after all.)
after that, nail painting together becomes a regular occurrence at the tattoo parlor.
-
“i'm jungwoo.”
“lucas.” he grins.
lucas chooses a very pretty shade of pink.
(jungwoo thinks his smile is prettier.)
-
it’s a hot tuesday, late spring. lucas frowns down at one of jungwoo’s thumbs, the brush tipped with pale gold polish poised above the nail.
it’s a particularly sad looking finger. jungwoo’s worst, in fact, skin peeled off layers and layers deep. the boy’s thin summer gloves lay discarded across the table. he still wont go anywhere without them.
-
earlier that week had brought some...complications.
jungwoo had slammed open the parlor door again, but unlike months ago, it was with a stricken look and tears pouring down his face. he had collapsed into lucas’s arms, shaking. lucas had stroked his hair worriedly, but quickly knew to pry the boy’s hands out from behind him. they were completely stripped of polish except for flecks here and there and uneven, rough patches of nail that indicated that jungwoo had scratched it all off. his fingers, which had been looking better, were in shreds. worse, there was a light bruise under his eye, and red skin splashed across his knuckles.
“jungwoo…” lucas had started, jaw hanging open.
“they-- they made fun of me. ‘said boys shouldn’t have painted nails. it’s so stupid ,” spat jungwoo venomously, “it’s just paint. it’s pretty, i like it and it helps. it helps ! who cares who should wear what? it’s fucking-- it’s fucking stupid !” he had wailed.
“i wanted to hit them. i, uh. i tried. I didn’t get too far.” lucas’s thumb brushed jungwoo’s cheek.
despite his gutsy, swinging words, jungwoo had gone into an anxiety attack after the bullies left and had torn up his manicure, along with his whole hand.
lucas had carded his fingers through jungwoo’s hair softly, head spinning with thoughts that mainly ended up boiling down to, protect .
and, well. bullies tend not to mess with people who walk around with scary, tall, tattooed, and pierced people attached to their hands.
(or, so lucas has heard.)
they never bothered jungwoo after that.
-
the fan whirs above them.
“jungwoo, why?” remarks lucas sadly. his heart pangs as he watches the serene look drop from the other boy’s face, replaced by downtrodden, self conscious look.
“yknow. um. anxiety,” jungwoo chokes out softly, the hand that hadn’t been painted yet twisting in the fabric of his thin t-shirt. “i just can’t stop, and it….it gets too out of hand. i usually dont even know im doing it...i feel so out of control. i cant stand people looking at my hands how they are, but i cant seem to get them perfect.” jungwoo wont make eye contact, discreetly wiping a wayward tear.
the pair sit in silence.
jungwoo pulls the gloves on again before he leaves. lucas wishes he could burn them.
-
months go on. jungwoo’s fingers are slowly clearing up. his eyes sparkle, and with it lucas’s smile grows impossibly brighter. yeri’s scored her fifth date with the cute tattoo artist lady. neither lucas or jungwoo really think yeri needed to go for three more tattoos to seal the deal but hey. to each their own. life is good.
-
jungwoo’s mouth twists into a cute little pout as he looks at the adorable cartoon watermelons lucas has transformed his nails into. it’s just. it’s so fucking cute. the world needs to see.
jungwoo leaves his gloves at home.
-
it’s after one of their long nail-painting-turned-movie-turned-ice cream-turned sort of date????-sessions that things shift.
the two boys are standing at the boardwalk’s edge, leaning against a peeling old railing. it’s not the most comfortable spot to watch the sunset, but it’s perfect to them. quiet. beautiful. calm.
(well, sort of.)
shimmery purple nails digging crescent moons into his palms, lucas steels himself with a big breath, turning to look at the other boy.
“listen, i, um. i have something for you?” his voice wavers, pitching up at the end slightly.
jungwoo tilts his head, (really cutely, fuck, fuck) still watching the sunset, and nods absently.
lucas takes another breath and a step forward. the low key hyperventilating he’d been doing for the past few minutes makes his head swim and his limbs feel floaty, and...of course, he just had to step on a sharp shell with his bare (but cutely painted!) feet. his knee buckles, dumping him unceremoniously onto the ground.
trying to save the moment (and save face), with a flourish, he reaches into his pocket (still kneeling in pain) and pulls out a ring.
jungwoo chooses this really stellar moment to turn around.
"wh- what ?" jungwoo splutters, "we're only seventeen! we aren't even dating! I BARELY KNOW YOUR FULL NAME!!!" his arm flings out in panic, jabbing the other boy in the chest in accusation.
lucas lurches forward in shock, choking on his breath and stumbling as he pulls himself up.
"no, no, oh god no. dude, look closer. it’s a spinner ring."
jungwoo flushes a deep crimson, examining the ring.
"why...?" he ventures.
now it’s lucas’s turn to blush.
"i...sort of maybe researched dermatillomania and found that fidget rings were a good coping tool for some people so i got it for you in case it worked better and because you seem so sad and self conscious i just really don't want you to be sad or self conscious because you're honestly really pretty even your hands 'cause i know you don't think they're pretty and i j--" he whooshes out in one large breath, eyes widening in horror at the absolute train wreck his grasp of sanity has become. he claps both hands over his mouth, dropping the ring box while he's at it.
jungwoo bends down to retrieve it, while lucas contemplates if the other boy would notice if he vaulted over the railing into the ocean and just kinda. didn’t come back up.
he’s so busy trying to think of ways he could dive that would minimize the alarming splashing sound that he doesn’t realize another pair of hands is reaching up to cover his own.
ring safely tucked in his pocket, jungwoo pulls lucas’s hands away from his face, smiling gently before leaning in.
it's picturesque, really; the sunset-lit sea behind them, the sweet smells wafting from the taffy place bordering his tattoo shop, the warm summer breeze.
(and if the boys’ kiss lands a little too far to the right, or if they go a little too long without breathing and have to gasp for air afterwards, well. no one’s complaining.)
-
( “you’re still gonna paint my nails, right?”
“dummy. of course.” )