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Daisuke stepped into the Lavender & Gold tattoo studio with a bright smile on his face, and not just because it was warm inside. It had been months since he sat under Ken’s needle and he’d been itching to get another piece from him. His leg was already fully done and he had several other pieces scattered across his other limbs, all a mish-mash of themes and styles. Agreeing to let Ken practise styles on him had been the best idea ever.
And not just because he got to see him often.
Okay, maybe that’s a small part of it. Only a small one, though!
“Mornin’!” He called out. He quickly got a response.
“Good morning, Daisuke.” Ken’s greeting was light, and Daisuke could see the eagerness shining in his eyes. This must be a big piece for him. “Are you looking forward to today?”
“Am I ever?!” he exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see what design you’ve come up with this time.”
“Good, because it’s an incredible piece.” Another voice floated over. Yamato leaned on the bannister, a slight smile playing about his lips. “As his senpai, I’m very proud of how far his work has come.”
“Yamato-san, please.” Ken ran a hand through his hair.
“That’s some high praise. Now I’m even more excited! Is it a big piece?”
“It’s not like a full back piece, if that’s what you mean,” Ken chuckled. “But… it is special. So… I hope you like it.” He ducked his head, the tips of his ears turning pink.
Daisuke’s chest felt light. “I don’t think I can wait any longer, then.” He murmured. Ken glanced up, a shy smile slowly blooming across his face and entrancing him.
“Ahem.” A cough burst the bubble, startling them both. Yamato was smirking now. “If you two lovebirds are quite done being mushy?”
“We’re not lovebirds ,” Ken muttered. “Let me go get the stencil ready.” He turned and hurried off, and Daisuke was left trying to ignore the ache in his chest.
“Sorry about that.” Yamato grimaced. “Guess I pushed too hard. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure.” he replied absently.
After a moment, Yamato spoke up again. “I’m going to be honest with you, I think you should shoot your shot.” Daisuke jumped, sending him a look. “Seriously. I know Ken, and I really think you have a chance. Ask him.”
He bit his lip. “I’ll think about it.”
A sigh. “Soda or hot drink?”
“Hot chocolate, please.”
“Right away.” He moved to head back upstairs.
“Theoretically,” Daisuke started, stopping Yamato in his tracks. “If I were to ‘shoot my shot’, what do you think would be the best way to do it?”
He hummed. “Hypothetically speaking?” Daisuke rolled his eyes, earning a snicker from the older man. “I think just being your straightforward self would work best,” he said eventually.
“Won’t I come off as-”
“No,” he interrupted, “Trust me on this, just be you and it’ll be fine.”
In my dreams . “Thanks, Yamato-san. Like I said, I’ll think about it.”
Yamato frowned but otherwise dropped the subject, climbing up the stairs. Daisuke removed his puffy coat and his backpack, hanging them up on the coat rack. He smiled; that was a gift from him and Taichi. He was glad it was getting used.
Yamato soon reappeared. “Here you go, one hot chocolate.” He handed the cup over and Daisuke smiled in thanks, hands wrapped tight around the hot cup. His fingers tingled. “Sorry, we don’t have any whipped cream or marshmallows.”
He snickered. “Oh, what a shame. I guess I won’t be getting my prescribed daily sugar high today.” He received a snort in response and grinned. After a moment, he spoke up again. “Umm, y’know, about the thing-”
“All ready!” Ken chirped, making Daisuke jump. He cursed as he shook piping-hot liquid from his fingers. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Grabbing a roll of paper towels, he tore off and offered a few squares, which Daisuke accepted. Once he had finished wiping his hands and it was determined that he wasn’t burned, Ken invited him back behind the counter and into the studio proper. “No snacks today?”
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna bring them over. I’m keeping my hands warm!” He clutched the cup closer to his chest. “Besides, I ate a big meal before coming over.”
Ken nodded in approval, gesturing to his workstation. Daisuke perched on the edge of the bed-chair-thing. “So, where are you getting this one? I know I said it’s not a full back piece, but it’s still quite large, so a thigh, stomach or shoulder blade would be best.”
Daisuke hummed. “I think my thigh, then. On the outside?”
Ken’s smile was breathtaking. “Perfect! Here’s the design. Let me know if you want any changes-”
“You know I won’t.”
“Right, right. Still I’d… like you to see it.”
Curious, he took the iPad from Ken’s shaking hands. As soon as his eyes met the screen, he gasped.
It was a still life drawing of a bouquet. Not just any bouquet, though. It was the first bouquet he had ever sold, perfectly captured in loving detail. Daisuke remembered Ken asking to see it after Daisuke had admitted to having a photo during a game of truth or dare, but he never imagined this would be why.
“Oh… It’s perfect…” he breathed. He met Ken’s gaze with a bright smile. “It’s incredible! I’d be honoured to have this on my skin!”
Ken ducked his head, cheeks bright pink. “Of course. It’s such a special memory for you, I had to do my best to capture it respectfully.”
“Then, let’s get on with it!”
“Right. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll just make sure I have everything ready.” Daisuke was too excited to bother going to the bathroom, unbuttoning and removing his capris on the spot. He clambered up onto the chair, took off his shoes and grabbed his hot chocolate from the stool Ken had provided as a table. After he took a sip, Ken directed him to lay on his side and carefully placed the stencil, rubbing it down so it stuck.
“Yamato-san,” he piped up, “Could you grab my phone and film me peeling this stencil off, please?”
“Sure thing,” Yamato replied, sweeping over and doing as Ken instructed. Once the stencil was peeled and Yamato wandered off, Ken began fiddling with his machine. A few test buzzes and a dip in the black ink later, he was holding the needle above Daisuke’s skin.
“Ready?” He asked.
“Yep, let’s go.”
With a smile, Ken began the process. After getting so many tattoos, Daisuke figured he’d be used to the initial stab of pain, but it still made his breath catch. Although it probably helped that Ken was gripping his thigh to keep him still. They sat in relative silence as Ken worked, Daisuke unable to look away from his focussed face. The longer they went, though, the more the pain built up.
Ken was only halfway done with the linework when he broke. “Could we take a break? When you’re at a good stopping place, I mean.” He was sure to speak up - he didn’t want a repeat of his first time.
“Hm? Oh, sure. This is a good time, actually.” Ken sat back and carefully placed his machine down, pulling off his gloves and picking up his phone. Daisuke reached for his drink, taking a few gulps as he examined his leg. Ken sure works quick, he mused, It’s only been like twenty minutes. “I’m going to get a quick drink myself. I’ll be right back.” With that, the artist stood and swept across the room and up the stairs.
Yamato sidled over. “So, any… awkwardness yet?” he smirked.
“Not this time,” Daisuke scoffed. Man, that was awkward; the last time Ken had worked on his thigh, he couldn’t help but get somewhat… excited. That had almost led to him never coming back, but Ken had messaged him later to reassure him that it wasn’t a big deal. Still, it had taken him some time to muster up the courage to book another piece.
“Okay,” Ken sighed, hurrying back to his seat with a cup full of coffee. “Ready to keep going?”
Daisuke downed the rest of his hot chocolate and grinned. “Sure!”
Settling back into place, Ken beckoned Yamato over again. “Could you get a few seconds of me doing linework?”
“‘Course,” he agreed breezily, “I’m glad you’ve actually started to make in-progress videos. Took you long enough.”
Ken rolled his eyes and snapped his glove. Ignoring Yamato’s snickers, he grabbed his machine and dipped the needle into the ink. “Okay, here we go.” Daisuke braced, just barely suppressing a flinch as the needle pierced his skin again. This was somehow worse than he remembered, and he remembered his other thigh being Bad.
So Daisuke did what he did best: started talking. “How’s business been, lately?”
“It’s been alright,” Ken hummed, “Had a weird one the other day, a couple of turn-aways, but it was mostly good last week.”
“Who’d you turn away?”
“Some assholes who thought I was dumb enough not to recognise the racist symbols they were asking me for,” he pulled back and rolled his eyes, “They’re banned from the shop now, so it’s all good.”
“Yikes, glad you got rid of ‘em.”
“Hmm.”
The pain intensified. “What about the weird one?” Ken scoffed and launched into a tirade about tiny detailed pieces and overestimating what an artist can do, his voice annoyed but his touch gentle.
Eventually, he trailed off with a huff. “Honestly, damn those American artists, giving clients such lofty expectations was foolish.”
“Sounds rough… So these ‘ micro tattoos ’ are an issue because the ink spreads as it heals?”
Ken glanced up, eyes shining. “You remembered that?”
“Well, yeah. I noticed the ink spreading on the first one I got. I remember being glad that you told me about it, cause it kinda surprised me when I saw it again all blown out and stuff.”
“I’m happy that you found my advice helpful.” They lapsed into silence yet again, Daisuke digging frantically for another topic while Ken continued to work. Soon, though, he sat back again. “Right. That’s the linework all done. Let’s take another break before I start with the colours - let me just wrap you up.” Daisuke sighed in relief as Ken wiped his stinging thigh down with a wet paper towel; he then wrapped cling film around his thigh. “Stand up, take a break. We’ll be back at it in about 5.” With that, he peeled his gloves off and pulled his hair down from its ponytail. Daisuke stood and stretched - wincing slightly at the stinging of his thigh - then wandered back into the waiting area and grabbed a soda from his bag.
“Do you have anyone else today?” He asked, glancing up from his phone screen. Only to find that the room was empty. He sighed, “Guess I’ll ask later, then.”
“What did you say?” Daisuke jumped and whipped around. Ken was standing at the base of the stairs, eyebrow raised and lips twitching. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me,” he grumbled, “I was just wondering if you or Yamato-san had anyone else in today.”
“Nope, this is my only one today. Yamato-san is spending today drawing flash since it’s an off day for him.” Ken wandered back over to his station and placed a steaming cup on his drawers.
Daisuke followed him back, leaning against the chair-bed. “Seems like a bit of a workaholic, him.” he muttered.
Ken snorted. “He is. But that’s because he loves his job.”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do. I get to spend all day making fantastic pieces of art that people enjoy.” He picked up his cup and smiled. “My brother was the smart one. I’ve always been the more artistic child. My dream has always been to be an artist of some sort. Originally, I considered going into graphic design, but then I met Yamato-san at university and my career took a sharp turn.” He took a sip, humming. “What about you?”
“Huh?”
“Did you always want to be a florist?”
Daisuke chuckled. “No. When I was young, I dreamt of being a ramen chef.”
Ken’s eyebrows raised. “Really? I mean, all the treats you’ve brought to sessions have been delicious so I guess it isn’t too big of a stretch.” He frowned. “Why didn’t you study catering or something? There are technical colleges and such…”
“Couldn’t afford it,” Daisuke huffed, “My parents refused to pay my tuition if I wasn’t gonna do a course they wanted me to do, and you can only get so far on high school job wages.”
“Oh, that’s a shame… Did you work at a flower shop during high school?”
“Yep. You’re sharp,” Daisuke laughed. Ken flushed a little. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job now. Plus, my dad hates it. Thinks it’s not a ‘respectable man’s job’,” he rolled his eyes. “They’ve always preferred my sister, anyway, so there’s no point trying to impress them. It’s a losing battle.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. One upside of them ignoring my job is that they don’t ask me to pay them every month like they do my sister. They have no idea how much I earn.”
Ken frowned. “Why does she have to pay?”
“My dad thinks we have to pay him back for all the years he spent looking after us, as if it’s not his job as a parent to take care of us.” He picked at his phone cover. “I plan to go to university once I’ve saved enough for the tuition, though. I will become a chef, just not as soon as I’d hoped when I was younger.”
“I know you’ll do it,” Ken’s smile was soft. Then, he glanced at the wall clock. “Are you ready to keep going?”
“Uhh, one sec. I gotta use the restroom.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Daisuke hurried off into the bathroom, locking the door and leaning back against it. He’d never planned to tell anyone about his childhood dreams; only Taichi and Hikari knew and that was because they went to school together as kids. He wasn’t sure what had made him tell Ken. Maybe he was just easy to trust. Maybe it was his stupid crush. Shaking his head, Daisuke got down to business. Don’t wanna keep Ken waiting.
All done, he stepped back out into the studio and paused. Ken was gazing out of the window with a pensive look on his face. His arm was folded across his stomach, holding his other arm at the elbow, his phone held loosely in his other hand. The way the light hit his face, framed his body… Daisuke gulped. He had it so bad.
Straightening up, he walked out into the studio proper, making sure his footsteps were loud enough for Ken to hear. It worked; Ken glanced back, blinking, then smiled and made his way back to the station.
He snapped on a fresh pair of gloves and picked up his machine. “Ready?”
Daisuke took a quick swig of his soda, then unwrapped his thigh. “Yep!”
Ken got to work, wiping away the blood and ink and then starting with the lightest colour. He worked for several more hours, taking breaks every so often for drinks and snacks. Daisuke kept him talking with lists of questions he found online; when Ken asked at one point why he did so, he told him it helped to deal with the pain. After that, Ken was more involved with the conversation.
Finally, as the sun began to set, Ken sat up, put his machine back down, and stretched with a groan. “All done!” Daisuke slumped back into his chair, mumbling his thanks to the gods. Ken laughed, squeezing some of his green soap onto a sheet of kitchen towel and gently wiping him down. “It came out pretty good, don’t you think?”
He looked down at his thigh, the redness standing out even on his tanned skin. Still, he couldn’t deny that the tattoo was a real work of art. “It’s incredible,” he whispered, tilting his leg to see it from different angles. “Thank you!”
Ken ducked his head. “It’s nothing, really-”
“Not true,” Daisuke cut him off, “Your art is always amazing, but it feels like this was you going above and beyond. So really, thank you so much. I love it.”
“Well, it’s important to you, so of course I worked hard on it,” he muttered. “I’m going to get Yamato-san; I need a picture of this.” He hurried off, stairs creaking beneath his feet. Daisuke stared after him for a moment, sighing, then swiped over to his camera and took a photo himself. After rotating it so it wasn’t upside down, he sent it to Taichi.
Me: Thoughts?
It didn’t take long for him to get a response in the form of a row of shocked emojis.
Taichi: ?!?!?! YOOOO THAT’S SICK!!!
Daisuke chuckled.
Me: Thanks! It hurt like a bitch but it was *so* worth it!
Taichi: I’ll bet! Ken’s really outdone himself this time! You should give him something as a thanks.
Daisuke bit his lip. He knew exactly what his senior was suggesting but… he still wasn’t sure. So he decided to play dumb.
Me: I always give him something nice afterwards! I’m glad I brought something special this time, though
Taichi: You know that’s not what I meant! Ask him out already, I made good on my side >:0
Daisuke scoffed, about to reply when he heard more footsteps. Ken reappeared with Yamato in tow, the other artist looking a bit grumpy. He raised an eyebrow.
“I was busy,” Yamato groused.
“You’ve been drawing all day, I’m sure two minutes away for a photo won’t kill your creativity.” Ken rolled his eyes. Yamato just flipped him off, drawing laughs from both him and Daisuke.
“Let’s get this over with, so I can get back to work,” he grumbled. He paused when he saw the piece, though, whistling lowly. “Wow, I think this is your best work yet.” Ken flushed and shoved his phone into Yamato’s hands. Yamato smirked but relented, taking the photos and a video without a word. Once he was done, he headed back upstairs, but not before sending Ken a meaningful look.
Ken sighed and reached for one of his drawers. “I’m going to use a second skin this time,” he explained, pulling out a box. “You keep this on for a day or two, then take it off and wash and heal as normal. Let me just give you one last wipe down.” He swiped a wet paper towel over Daisuke’s thigh, freezing when he gasped sharply. “Sorry, I forgot that thighs tend to be really sore.”
“‘S fine,” Daisuke managed. “I just forgot how much it hurts.” Ken finished covering his new tattoo quickly, sending sympathetic smiles whenever he hissed or winced. Once he was done, they headed back into the front area so Daisuke could pay.
All finished, Daisuke held out a box. “It’s not much, but I made you this. There’s enough for Yamato-san too.”
Curiously, Ken opened the box and gaped. “Wow, this is a whole meal! It looks amazing!” He beamed. “I can’t wait to try it! And I bet Yamato-san will be happy, he’s probably starving.”
Daisuke laughed. “I hope you both like it!” Then, after a moment, he continued. “Uh, if you wanna try more stuff, you could come to my place sometime? I’d love to have you,” Ken stared wordlessly and his nerves wavered. “I mean, you don’t have to! If you’re too busy, I understand, you guys have a ton of clients and-”
“I’ll come!” Ken blurted out, hand shooting up to his mouth. Visibly shaking himself, he lowered his hand and smiled. “I’d like that. I want to see your place, and how you cook.” He fiddled with his hair for a moment, glancing up at Daisuke through his lashes. “I’m free next Friday, if that’s a good time?”
Daisuke swallowed to dislodge his heart from his throat, grinning brightly. “Sounds like a plan! I’ll be busy with the shop during the day, but I’m free all evening.”
“Perfect.” Ken smiled, stopping Daisuke’s heart again. “I’ll see you then.” With that, he said goodbye and swept upstairs, leaving him at the front desk.
After a moment, Daisuke came back to himself and had to stop himself from cheering out loud. He gathered his things and left, making his way back home. On the bus, he got another text.
Taichi: Yo, you on your way home yet?
Me: Yep
Taichi: How’d it go?
He thought about playing dumb again but he was practically vibrating with excitement and he had to tell someone.
Me: I think I have a date.
There was no response for a minute, then his phone rang. He hit answer and held it away from his face.
“YOU WHAT?!?!” Taichi’s voice was so loud, Daisuke had to apologise to the people nearby. “Please tell me you aren’t kidding!”
“Taichi-san, please keep your voice down, I’m on the bus,” he complained.
“Bro, I can’t help it! You finally asked Ken on a date?!”
“I asked him over for dinner.”
“When?”
“Next Friday.”
“If you need any help with the shop, let me know.”
Daisuke shook his head. “No, it’s fine-”
“I mean it,” Taichi interrupted, “I want you to have a good time with him, so if you need help in the shop so you’d have time for your date, I’m happy to help.”
“I’m just making him dinner.”
“All the more reason, then. I’ll help in the shop so you can make something so good that he’ll propose on the spot!”
“My cooking isn’t that good.”
“The hell it isn’t! You’ll knock his socks off, I’ll make sure of it!”
Daisuke smiled. “Thanks, Taichi-san. I appreciate the help.”
“So, any ideas yet? Or is it too early to ask?”
“Well…” He started describing things he could make, the two of them bouncing ideas off each other for the rest of the bus ride. He had a decent idea of what Ken liked by now, but he still wanted to be sure. When he said as much to Taichi, he hummed.
“I’ll ask Yamato when I see him later.”
“Oh? Am I not the only one with a date?” he smirked.
“... Fuck off.”
Daisuke cackled, pulling his keys out as he approached his shop. “I won’t keep you, then. Have a good night.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”
After saying goodbye and locking his shop up again, Daisuke headed through the back and up the stairs to his apartment above. He shucked his shoes and puffy coat, setting the kettle to boil as he headed through to his bedroom to change. Once comfy with a cup of tea in his hand, scrolled through his recipes on his iPad, trying to decide whether to stick to something safe or be more experimental.
Eventually, he picked a few ideas and headed to bed, drifting off with images of Ken enjoying his food floating through his mind.