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Stiles finished washing his hands, drying them carefully as he stepped out into the waiting room of his tattoo shop. Well, his in that he worked there. He hadn't quite convinced the owner to sell to him yet, but since he also didn't have the money just yet? It was just as well. He noted the man waiting awkwardly in the chair and cleared his throat. "Need some help?"
The man stood up, tall and muscular, and Stiles wanted nothing more than to get his hands on him. Fuck, he'd make an awesome showcase for Stiles' work. He was too busy letting his eyes trace over the man's unmarked arms to hear him at first, but tuned in after a few words. "...I came here on a recommendation. I want a tat but it needs a little heat." And, fuck. Okay, so the guy was a werewolf.
"Yeah. Um, it's close enough to closing that I'm gonna go ahead and close up so I can focus on your ink, then. Cool?" He didn't wait for an answer before heading toward the front door and locking it, turning the sign to read "closed" and heading back to the man standing there awkwardly. "So, what's your name?"
His hands in his pockets, the man turned slightly as Stiles walked toward him, following him back to the chair. "Derek. You?"
"Stiles. And before you laugh, remember that I'm about to puncture you with a needle a whole hell of a lot of times." He raised an eyebrow at Derek, then crossed his arms over his chest. "So, ever gotten a tattoo before?"
Derek pulled his shirt off suddenly, making Stiles' mouth go a bit dry as he turned to show the triskele in the center of his back. The muscles on that man... "Just this one. But, I've got a high threshold for pain so it shouldn't be a problem."
"And, what are you wanting to get?" Stile licked his lips, trying to eye Derek up in a professional kind of way rather than the way he might in a bar.
Pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, Derek shoved it toward Stiles. "That. On my right side."
Unfolding the paper, Stiles prepared himself for something that kind of went with the triskele, or maybe some kind of writing. Hell, even a band logo. Not this, though. "Did Scott send you?" he found himself asking softly.
"Deaton." Derek shifted from one foot to the other, staring Stiles down. "Why?"
"How did you get this idea?" Stiles gestured to the chair, then. "I mean, it's cool and all, but it's not the kind of thing most people want to get. Also, unbutton your pants and pull them down a little before sitting back."
Derek followed his instructions, then made himself comfortable, staring at the shop ceiling. "I had a dream about the design. And then I kept having the dream. It feels... right to wear it on my skin."
Stiles worried his lower lip between his teeth for a long moment. "Have we ever met before?"
"Not that I know of." Derek stared at him as he shifted slightly in the chair. "Why?"
Taking a deep breath, Stiles pulled up his own shirt, displaying his own side tattoo that exactly matched the drawing in his hand. "That's why." He let his shirt drop back down.
It only took half a breath for Derek to move toward him, sliding the shirt back up and running his fingers along the tattoo. He looked concerned for a moment, but his eyebrows raised suddenly and he pressed his face close to the juncture of Stiles' hips, breathing in deeply. "I think maybe... you're my mate."
"Excuse me?" Stiles laughed suddenly, pulling back. "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me. Seriously, who paid you to do this?"
Derek looked so confused that it made Stiles hope that he was wrong. "Do you not believe in soulmates?"
Stiles shook his head quickly. "That's not it at all. I mean, my parents were and my best friend found his and it's kind of obvious, y'know? But, just, you. I mean, you are all kinds of attractive and the idea that you'd even be interested in a date is kind of into realms of awesome I didn't realize were possible. The idea of being soulmates with a guy who looks like you? Yeah. I think I could get used to that."
"I promise my sunny personality makes up for the looks," Derek deadpanned and Stiles wanted to swoon. "So, the tattoo?"
Nodding, Stiles looked over Derek again. "Well, if you want it to actually match mine? It's going to take about fourteen hours total. You can't expect a giant gnarled oak to take the same amount of time as a little Chinese dragon."
"How do we do this, then?" Derek picked up his shirt, wringing it in his hands but not putting it back on yet.
Stiles sucked in a quick breath. "You go out to dinner with me right now and then I take you back to my place and we'll figure out a good time for you to come over for a few days to get inked."
Derek nodded. "When we go to your place, how about you let me look at the rest of your tattoos?"
"Even the one on my ass?" Stiles gave Derek a coy smile.
Eyes widening slightly, Derek smirked. "Especially that one."