Work Text:
It’s a flimsy four pack of temporary tattoos.
Robin removes the plastic and places it on Steve’s bicep. It’s not real ink poking in his skin, but it makes him nervous all the same.
Robin chats about her upcoming semester, her next date with Chrissy, their last shift at the coffee house. The wash cloth is overly damp, a few droplets run down his arm. The package says to wet it for thirty to forty seconds, but it feels like eons. “There you go,” says Robin.
Steve traces a finger over the pink, purple, and blue sections that make up the heart. Feels a sense of belonging and giddiness he hasn’t felt since his first shift with Robin. “Thanks, Robbie.”
Robin gives him a half-assed salute. “Anytime.”