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Hyouma’s 3pm appointment is late .
By ten minutes. But it's ten minutes that slouches by as slow as it can manage, painfully aware of itself. It’s not long enough for Hyouma to be truly irritated, though it is long enough for him to debate if he has time to grab a coffee from the bakery across the street.
Blue Lock Tattoos is one of the most well-known parlor’s in Tokyo. Slammed in between a kitschy little thrift shop only open during the day time and a tourist-trapping cheap jewelry store, Blue Lock stands out like a sore thumb with its neon blue signs and backlit displays. They’ve also finally hired a social media manager to maintain their relevance, so Hyouma’s been posting a lot of his artwork online— it was only natural for Hyouma to find more tattoo requests in his inbox, specifically looking for his work on their skin.
However, he can only take on so many.
Isagi Yoichi (the longest standing Blue Lock artist) is working on another one of his grand color works on a giddy client, so he can’t talk to him without getting yelled at for at least another hour. He’s the most intense about his work of all of them.
Hyouma considers talking to one of the other artists, but it seems like everyone’s booked and busy today.
This 3pm appointment is supposed to be the first of many sessions; the biggest piece Hyouma’s worked on this year (albeit, it’s still only in the early days of March). A giant polar bear, surrounded by pink carnations and rosemaries. Not only a bizarre animal and flower combination, but for a first tattoo at that. When people want a giant first tattoo, it’s always a dragon. Always . Or even a brown bear, sometimes wolves. But polar bears are strangely specific.
In his email exchanges with this mystery client, Hyouma couldn’t help but be fascinated by his blunt expectations of the project. A polar bear, surrounded by sprawling flowers. Most of the creative aspect was left for Hyouma to figure out.
Just as he’s thinking about the measurements of the back tattoo, the bell to the parlor rings. Leaning back in his seat, Hyouma gets a glimpse of a piece of red-headed beefcake. He does not whistle .
The man catches his eyes, lighting up with mild recognition.
“Chigiri Hyouma, right?” he asks. Up close, Hyoma can see that his eyes are the same color as his hair. Cute. “I’m Kunigami Rensuke. For the 3pm consultation?”
He’s wearing an oversized black shirt and loose, swishy pants. Unlike Hyouma, he looks like he prioritizes comfort over fashion. Or, at least, he isn’t wearing anything inappropriate for a tattoo session.
“Right.” Hyouma swallows. He isn’t nervous , but he wasn’t expecting Kunigami to look so… like that. “Take a seat while I grab my sketches. It’s good to finally meet you!” Hyouma claps his hands together and Kunigami sits down silently. He must not like small talk.
Walking away, he catches Reo cleaning his station with medical disinfectant, finished with another tattoo on his regular (and boyfriend), Nagi. Before Hyouma can avert his eyes, Reo spots him and waves him over.
“I’ve got a client,” Hyouma says. “What’s up?”
“You’re not in a rush. It’s his first, right?” Reo juts his chin over to his station. “This is more important. Did you know Nagi got a tattoo from Isagi?”
Hyouma cringes. Reo’s not usually this possessive over his clients, but Nagi’s the obvious exception. Until now, Nagi’s never had a tattoo done by anyone but Reo, and his arms are now covered in Reo’s art. And it means a lot to Reo, to see it on his skin. A tattoo by somebody else… If he’s being honest, he knew Nagi went to Isagi for a little colorwork. He was just hoping Reo wouldn’t bring it up to him.
“No?” he tries. Reo glares. “… Not until the day of. He was really curious about it.”
“I can do colorwork,” Reo says, sounding a bit like a petulant child. “Better than Isagi, even.”
Hyouma snorts.
Huffing, Reo crosses his arms. It only makes Hyouma chuckle. He’s suddenly keenly aware of the massive project Isagi is currently working on, and it seems Reo is too by the look that flashes over his face.
“Fine, fine,” he says. “But why didn’t he tell me?”
“… Because you react like this ?”
“Don’t you hate it when your regulars get work done by other people?” Reo groans, and finishes wiping off his desk, with a bit more passion than before.
“Sure,” he admits. “But they’re grown. They can do what they want. Speaking of, I’ve actually got to get back to my client now, so… save it for later?”
Reo sends him a look that means he won’t be offering to pay for his lunch. Damn.
“Oh, him.” Reo peers over to Hyouma’s station. “He’s pretty built. Decently dressed. You’re into him, right?”
“I’ve just met him.”
“That’s not a no .”
Hyouma grabs his art before he can think about the heat rising in his face. Who he’s attracted to isn’t Reo’s business— and frankly, he’d rather avoid his “help” at all costs. He can figure out his own love life, thank you very much.
So, Hyouma sticks out his tongue and walks away. Who cares if he’s attracted to Kunigami? He's, like, objectively attractive.
“I’ve got the final two you said you liked,” he tells him. “The half-body and full one. On your back, right?”
He nods. Hyouma smiles.
As Kunigami looks over the pieces, Hyouma watches for his reactions. Quickly, he starts blinking faster, and his jaw clenches, if only slightly. Before he can ask if he’s ok, Kunigami points to the half-body polar bear, floating out of a pile of carefully designed flowers.
“Your art’s really… Nice,” he chokes out. “I think this is the one.”
“Alright then!” Hyouma tucks his hair behind his ear. Grabbing a wet washcloth, he gestures for Kunigami to take his shirt off. Kunigami’s movements are slow, tentative, like he’s shy.
Bunching up the washcloth in his hands, Hyouma tries not to look too long at Kunigami’s bare chest. Still, he catches a glimpse before the man turns around. Top surgery scars, he knows, can look very different depending on who did your surgery, or even just a difference in body composition.
Kunigami’s scars are jagged and large, almost like tattoos in their own right. They look pretty cool, the way they darken his skin. Hyouma’s own are small, nearly imperceptible now that they’ve healed. Seeing Kunigami’s unabashed attitude towards his scars makes him twitch a little smile.
Placing the outline on his back, Hyouma dampens it with the washcloth.
“Any particular reason for the polar bear?” he asks. “Or, like, do you just like them?”
Kunigami doesn’t say anything for a moment, not even sparing a cursory glance his way. Before Hyouma can feel awkward about the small talk, Kunigami answers his question.
“They’re my little sister’s favorite animal,” says Kunigami. “So. That’s why.”
How adorable. Hyouma would never get a tattoo of his sister’s favorite animal (a sloth , of all animals), but a big tough guy like Kunigami? It’s really, really sweet in a way that checks a particular box for him. Unable to stifle his curiosity, Hyouma asks another question.
“And the flowers?”
Kunigami doesn’t answer him, and it only mildly pisses Hyouma off. Of course he’s not obligated to carry a conversation, and tattoos can be personal, but it’s still rude . He’d seemed nice over email, maybe it was just wishful thinking that he’d be the same in-person as well.
Hyouma takes off the paper, uncovering the bright purple outline. It covers at least a third of his back from his left shoulder blade down. The sprawling flowers reach around his waist, making Hyouma briefly consider adding a few to curl around his waist.
“Come take a look in the mirror.” Hyouma pats his back for him to get up. “Last chance before we get started, all right?”
Kunigami stands and turns around, looking back into the mirror.
“If you need me to take a picture, I can—“
“This is good,” he says. “You can get started.”
Smirking, Hyouma says, “Great! You got water, snacks or whatever?”
Kunigami blinks owlishly at him. Not as prepared as Hyouma thought, then.
“This is going to be a two hour session, if I had to guess,” he continues. “Because this is your first tattoo. And you’re going to need water and some food— you know, you’re lucky because I have some goldfish in the back.”
It’s comical, the speed at which Kunigami’s face goes from a peachy-tan to tomato-red. It takes Hyouma off guard, as the man fiddles with the fabric of his pants.
“… Thanks,” Kunigami says.
“No problem.” Hyouma smirks, and winks. Just like he hoped, Kunigami becomes impossibly redder. Cute. Maybe he actually stands a chance at melting that cold little heart of his.
Maybe.
Hyouma starts up that tattoo machine, and Kunigami lays down for him to get started.
He’s one of the fastest tattoo artists in the city, but there’s only so long he can work until he needs to stop using his hands. He doesn’t push it either, in fear of fucking up a tattoo or something; what a nightmare . Luckily, Kunigami’s his second client of the day, so he’s still got stamina.
He finishes the lineart of the polar bear, and Kunigami remains surprisingly still and tolerant of the tattoo machine. He drinks all of his water, and during a small break he eats a little bag of goldfish which he dwarfs. By the time the session ends, he looks brighter than when he came in. It’s a look that Hyouma cherishes and files away for the future.
Hyouma schedules his next appointment, and hands him care instructions to maintain the tattoo until their next session. He watches him leave until his head full of bright orange hair becomes just another blur on the street.
A hand touches his shoulder.
Startling, Hyouma swerves around to see a snickering Reo behind him, finished for the day.
“Let’s grab dinner,” Reo offers. “I know you have something to say about your last client , right?”
Rolling his eyes, his shoulders sag in concession. At least Reo isn’t frustrated anymore with him , but the likelier option is that this is just his excuse to rant about Nagi and Isagi to a willing ear.
“Fine, but you’re paying.”
—
Kunigami shows up ten minutes early for his next session with two cups of coffee, and a tote bag with two water bottles and pretzels.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” explains Kunigami as he holds out the cup. “So I just got you a latte.”
Hyouma grabs the cup, and takes a sip. It’s delicious. The cup has a logo of some cute cartoon-creature thing, but it’s not one he recognizes.
“My hero ,” he says. “Thanks. I forgot to buy one this morning.”
Hyouma revels in the way Kunigami’s cheeks blossom pink. He doesn’t say anything else as he takes his top off for Hyouma to get to work once more. As he lays down, he can tell that the energy’s different from the last session. Where there was an air of tension before, it’s now become something more comfortable.
Working the details into a few of the carnations by his waist, Hyouma’s left hand lingers by his spine. Perhaps they could have an actual conversation this time.
“So,” he starts. “What do you do for work?”
“I’m a waiter. Part-time.”
“Part-time?” Hyouma moves onto one of the rosemary flowers that curl up towards his ribs. “What, are you also a student?”
Kunigami flinches, just barely, under the tattoo machine.
“Yeah,” says Kunigami. “I’m in a DPT program.”
Satisfied that Kunigami can’t see him, Hyouma smiles to himself. What luck, that his client would be getting into the very profession that saved his life ten years ago.
“You’re an actual hero-type, aren’t you?” he teases. “Buying me coffee, helping people get better. That’s sweet.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Kunigami huffs a laugh, but it’s more sardonic than anything.
“Well, why else?” he asks. “It’s admirable. You can take pride in that.”
Kunigami doesn’t say anything back, and the energy from before dims back to how it was in their first session. Undeterred, Hyouma continues through the rest of this session. He suspects one, maybe two more sessions until he can get it all finished, and he’ll either find himself with a regular client or never see him again.
Maybe he can try one more time.
“I broke my wrist when I was fifteen.” Hyouma moves the machine in tight ovals along the carnations. “I was in a rough place, mentally. I couldn’t make much art, not in the way I wanted. And it healed… weird. I had to see a physical therapist for a while, and she helped me get my confidence and motivation back. She’s really cool, y’know?”
Kunigami hums, but Hyouma can barely hear it over the tattoo machine.
“How’s your wrist now?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fuck up your tattoo.”
“I didn’t mean—“
“Easy,” he says. “I’m just messing with you. I can’t work too long on a tattoo, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Two hours is my limit. It’s good enough that my old therapist trusted me to give her a tattoo a couple years ago though.”
“… What’d she get?”
“Full sleeve.”
He can almost hear Kunigami’s eyes bulging out of his skull. “Are you messing with me again?”
“Nope. It looks awesome, too. I’ll show you a picture when we finish up, all right?”
Kunigami nods against the leather seat.
Hyouma wraps the session up, logs another appointment, and shoves an additional care manual into his dumb tote bag. He shows a picture of his therapist’s full sleeve, and laughs at his stricken face. Again, he watches as Kunigami leaves the parlor and continues to watch until he can’t anymore.
“Go for it,” Isagi says, materializing out of thin air. “You’re kind of desperate.”
“You need to stop doing that to people,” Hyouma grumbles. “Have you and Reo made up yet?”
Isagi scratches the side of his face. “Not really, but I don’t… ah, care. That much. I’m curious about you and your mystery client, so don’t deflect.”
Hyouma snorts. Isagi wouldn’t care. Reo doesn’t need many excuses to hate on him in the first place, so he’s probably used to it by now.
“I think we’re getting somewhere. He bought me coffee earlier.”
“Ah. And when are you moving in with him?”
Groaning, Hyouma shoves him lightly in the shoulder. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?”
Isagi sends him a cheeky grin. “So? Do you think you’re gonna have a boyfriend soon?”
“Eugh,” he says. “I don’t know. He’s hard to talk to.”
“Mysterious or rude?” Isagi raises an eyebrow.
“Both,” he admits. “But he’s also really cute. He’s in a DPT program.”
Isagi hums in thought. “He’s probably shy. Or the kind of guy you need to really be upfront and honest with.”
Hyouma agrees with him, but before Isagi can say anything else, he spots one of his regulars walk into the parlor. Apologizing, he rushes away to meet with them.
Shy . Yeah, Kunigami’s definitely shy.
—
Kunigami bought him another latte this morning, and brought the same dumb tote bag from the last session as well.
Their third session, things feel like a friendly routine. He can tell his efforts of chipping away at Kunigami's cold exterior are working to his benefit. The session passes by with light, easy-going conversation. Hyouma rambles about his injury, as per Kunigami’s request, and listens in turn when he talks about treatment methods and what he’s picked up in school.
Hyouma’s wrist begs him to quit after an hour, but by the end of it, the tattoo looks nearly finished. It’s well put-together, with only bits and pieces near the sides that need more detail and work before Kunigami can go on his way.
Kunigami stands up to inspect the latest developments while Hyouma starts cleaning up and disinfecting his station.
“Hm.” Hyouma tilts his head. “What do you think of it so far?”
“It’s really good,” answers Kunigami. But that’s not what he wants to hear.
“I know that ,” he says. Hyouma pulls his gloves on. “I just mean. How do you feel about it?”
Kunigami shifts on his feet, looking unsure of himself. He breathes in long and deep, and Hyouma watches his chest rise and fall. Kunigami’s eyes trace the dark lines of the artwork, his head twisting around to see it in the mirror.
“I don’t know how to say it,” Kunigami says, eyes still locked onto the tattoo. “But. Strongly.”
“You feel… strongly?” Hyouma considers that for a moment. “All right then. Wanna tell me what it’s all about?”
Kunigami’s mouth drops open, forming a little “o” in surprise. His eyes snap to meet his own, finally divorced from the mirror. It seems as though the words are falling out of his mouth, when he starts to speak.
“My sister.” Kunigami gulps. His voice sounds strained. “She died. A year ago, now. She had tattoos, but I couldn’t remember the name of her artist, and then I found you on Instagram. Saw a flower you tattooed on someone’s hand, and I knew I needed you to do this piece— I don’t think I would have gotten this if you turned me down.”
Hyouma stares, entirely thoughtless. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but perhaps he should have figured it was a memorial tattoo. Plenty of people come in with pictures of their loved ones, pets and parents and siblings to get them inked into their skin.
And then, Kunigami’s eyes turn glassy and shiny, so Hyouma settles a hand on his shoulder to sit him down. He rubs gentle ovals into his shoulder blade, though his tears never fall. Nevertheless, he rubs harshly at his eyes until they turn dry.
“Sorry,” Kunigami whispers. “That was probably too much.”
Frowning, Hyouma says, “Don’t be. One year is really recent, and I asked . You’re not my first client to get a tattoo like this, and you won’t be the last.”
Kunigami sniffles, and Hyouma tugs him closer into a one-armed hug, careful to avoid the raw tattoo.
Hyouma swallows thickly and bites his lip. Seeing Kunigami vulnerable like this tugs at his heart and makes his chest burn. They’re close enough that Hyouma can see the way the skin around his eyes have turned pink and puffy, the way his lips are trying to twitch into something akin to a smile.
Tilting his head, Hyouma says, “Give me your phone,” and holds his hand out expectedly.
Kunigami blinks hard and fast before reaching into his tote bag. He’s got a clunky, ultra-secure otterbox case with a thick screen protector, but he unlocks it and hands it over without questioning why Hyouma even asked for it in the first place. Once again, Hyouma feels a warmth blossom in his lungs but for an entirely different reason.
For a brief moment, Kunigami’s calloused fingers wrap around his own, and Hyouma has to pray that his face isn’t as red as the flowers he’s just tattooed. Silently, Hyouma enters his phone number into his contact list.
“Text me,” he says. He hands Kunigami his phone back. “If you ever need to. I’ll listen. And it’s easier to reach me this way if something happens and you can’t make it to an appointment.”
“Oh.” Kunigami wraps his hand around Hyouma’s, and good lord , his hands are warm. “Thanks. For that. It means a lot to me.”
“Of course,” Hyouma says. “I can’t say I know what you’re going through, but…”
Kunigami leans in closer and Hyouma is possessed by the urge to close the gap between them and kiss him. The logical side of his brain telling him just how inappropriate that would be wins out though, so he stands up instead. If he were paying closer attention, he might have noticed Kunigami’s face flash with disappointment.
“You’ve got one more appointment left,” he rushes out. “And then you’ll be all finished up. But you should still come to me if you need any touch ups.”
Kunigami stares up at him, mouth slightly agape.
“I will,” he answers. “Definitely.”
“All right then, hero,” Hyouma teases. “Let’s get your last appointment set up.”
—
Hyouma gets his first text message from Kunigami a couple of days before their last session. He’d started to worry that he wouldn’t text him at all, or even worse, that he came off as desperate .
But it’s not like he didn’t mean what he said.
He has never dropped what he was doing as fast as he does when his phone pings with a notification from an unknown number.
Hyouma’s thankfully at home when Kunigami sends the message, working through a wrist exercise, so he types with his non-dominant hand.
Unknown Contact
I think my mom cried when I showed her my tattoo
Unknown Contact
Good tears!
Unknown Contact
This is Kunigami btw. Sorry.
Me
Don’t be sorry lol. I take it she likes it then?
Kunigami 🧡
She loves it. It really reminded her of my sister. I think she might want to give you a bento, but it’s ok if that’s too much
Kunigami 🧡
She can be pretty forward about these things
Hyouma hadn’t thought about it before, but the idea of Kunigami having a good relationship with his mom is one of the most attractive things in the world . And being able to create something special for them brings out Hyouma’s own sentimentality. He’s not fantastic at comforting people, but he’s amazing at creating art, so that does the job for him.
Me
Wait i think that’s so sweet!
Me
I’ll eat anything your mom makes. And I’m happy she likes the tattoo
Kunigami 🧡
Oh that’s good, because she’s definitely doing it.
Kunigami 🧡
Yk I wanted to ask during our last session, but when did you start getting into art anyway?
Me
Idk actually, I think I’ve always been artistic? I got serious in middle school when people started paying for little portraits. I overcharged them of course :p
Kunigami 🧡
Luckiest middle schoolers ever, in that case. Hopefully I’m not bothering you, but what are you up to?
Me
I’m just doing some wrist exercises. Why?
Kunigami 🧡
What kind? If you don’t mind me asking?
He really is too shy, apologizing for asking basic questions. If Hyouma didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing, he wouldn’t tell them. He snaps a picture of his wrist and the band wrapped around it down to his foot and sends it.
Me
I’m doing a resisted wrist extension rn. It’s nothing special. Any more insights to offer me from your DPT program?
Kunigami 🧡
Do you have any other tools? Like a grip strengthener? Or do you not use them
Him and Kunigami go back and forth, talking about the types of physical therapies and exercises for hand and wrist injuries. Hyouma sends some more pictures of his grip strengtheners and hand warmers, and tells him that most of the other artists that work at Blue Lock borrow his equipment from time to time. Kunigami tells him more about his family too, about how he and his older sister both moved back in with their mom. Hyouma felt vulnerable, cradling Kunigami’s bared soul this way. His last relationships never felt as intimate as this one.
Before he knows it, the sky has turned black and there’s a cool night-time breeze coming in from his balcony. And he’s totally wasted his exercise time texting Kunigami instead. Though perhaps that’s a good sign, and Kunigami is probably into him too.
Or not. But based on the way Kunigami flushes and his shy attitude? Probably.
Hyouma feels like a schoolgirl, giggling over his crush’s silly text messages. But it’s nice. He hasn’t been in a relationship in two years now, having been cheated on by his last ex. His life has been somewhat stagnant lately, though no less fulfilled. He’s kept busy with work and he’s got plenty of friends.
Maybe it was time to let in someone new.
—
Sometime around 2am, Hyouma gets a text to meet up for dinner from Reo. It’s almost cryptic, the way it’s worded so… directly. Reo’s not usually blunt, and he certainly never texts Hyouma at 2am. He understands his need for beauty sleep (and the time it takes to prim his hair and skin).
The day before his last session with Kunigami he and Reo meet up at a hole in the wall ramen place that’s got two customers only; him and Reo.
Reo is twiddling his thumbs, so Hyouma orders the most expensive item on the menu. He can afford it. And Hyouma’s food arrives before Reo’s, which really makes this occasion special.
“Nagi hasn’t scheduled a tattoo session with me in two months. Is our relationship falling apart?” Reo blurts.
Hyouma blows the steam away from his noodles before eating them. He doesn’t know what to tell Reo. It might be falling apart if Nagi went to Isagi for colorwork or (God forbid) a touchup , but not for the reason Reo thinks.
He chews for a moment before saying, “I think you’re paranoid.”
“Oh, really?” Reo raises an eyebrow. “And what about you?”
“… What about me?”
“Your-“ Reo waves a hand in the air, dramatic. “ Situationship. With the ginger!”
“I am not in a situationship ,” Hyouma enunciates. “So get that out of your head. And even if I were, our current relationship is perfectly fine.”
“You’re into him though, right? You should ask him out,” Reo teases, clearly not really meaning it.
“Planning on it, actually,” Hyouma says. “Tomorrow. After our last session. So stop deflecting from your weird issues with Nagi.”
Reo stares at him.
“What? Something on my face?”
“ Deflecting . I don’t deflect.”
“It’s clearly what you just did.”
“I did not .”
“I’m not having this argument.” Hyouma eats another piece of his ramen, mixing the broth so it cools down. “What’s stopping you from just talking to him again?”
“Have you ever had a conversation with him?”
A moment passes between them, only the sounds of kitchen clatter to fill the silence. Hyouma takes a sip of the broth as their waiter sets down Reo’s food.
When Reo starts eating from his bowl, Hyouma says, “Point taken. Maybe a letter would work?”
“He wouldn’t read it. He’d say, “Reo, read it for me,” and then say I’m good at reading and nothing else.” Reo scoffs, and in mocking Nagi he changes his voice into a nasally tone that sounds nothing like Nagi.
“I think you underestimate him.” Hyouma muses. “He’s the kind of guy you have to be blunt with. Just… Tell him how you feel.”
And Kunigami’s the same way, isn’t he? Dense, but more in the closed-off way than Nagi’s perpetual struggle with human interactions. No, Hyouma wouldn’t be able to date someone like Nagi.
Reo’s shoulders sag, his face scrunched up in pain.
He fiddles with his chopsticks, mindlessly stirring the ramen. “Maybe I’ll just deny him service when he inevitably crawls back to me…”
“I don’t think that’s—“
“No, no,” Reo cuts him off. “It’s brilliant. If he wants Isagi’s tattoos, he can get his tattoos.” Reo perks up, devious no-good plans written all over his face, all thoughts on repairing his bizarre relationship with Nagi forgotten. He waves over the waiter with his rich-guy smile, as though he’d never lost his mind about the state of his relationship in the first place and the subsequent advice Hyouma had to offer.
“Would you like your checks?” The kindly waiter asks.
“Yes, thank you.”
“And would you like that split?”
At least he’s getting a free meal.
“Two ways, if you could?”
Or not.
—
When Kunigami comes in for his last appointment, he’s once again got two lattes in hand, and a bigger tote bag slung over his shoulder. A flurry of affection swells in his chest at the sight of Kunigami’s cherry flushed cheeks and tousled, windswept hair.
“Oh good, you brought me my coffee.” Hyouma swipes one of the cups, smirking at Kunigami’s exasperated expression.
The taller man stares at him unabashedly in realization. “You’re a total princess, aren’t you?”
“And what gave you that impression?”
Kunigami laughs, and Hyouma’s eyes are caught on just how blinding his smile is. Something’s definitely changed, and he’s very glad that it has.
Hyouma pats the leather seat. “Come on, take off your shirt,” he says. “This is the last session, so I’ll be thorough.” Hyouma winks to layer on the charm and laughs internally at Kunigami’s embarrassed expression.
“Before I forget,” Kunigami says. He reaches into his bag to grab a simple black box. “My mom made you that bento I mentioned she would, and my sister insisted on making you some cookies. You don’t have any allergies do you?”
“Nope!” Hyouma snatches the bento from his hands. “Trust, this will be devoured .”
“And the princess is a glutton— go figure.”
“Shut up,” he teases. “Go sit pretty over there while I get to work.”
Kunigami actually listens to that request and gets into the usual position. Hyouma’s working out the finer details, perfecting everything and making sure the tattoo ends up being well-worth Kunigami’s measly part-time waiter salary.
The duration of the appointment is the most casual it’s been yet, filled with easy-going banter and conversation. The piece itself is quickly elevating to Hyouma’s top five tattoos, and it’s not just because of his affection for Kunigami.
Maybe it’s the polar bear, the way Hyouma was able to make it stand out against his skin with a flourish of blues and pinks that contrast the curls of carnations and rosemaries. It’s graceful and vibrant all at once, and it hugs Kunigami’s body as though he were born with it.
By the end, it’s fully realized and Hyouma’s undeniably lost his excuse to have an assured, scheduled time and place to talk with the handsome man who’s so quickly stolen his heart.
Kunigami ogles the tattoo in the mirror, obviously entranced with the way it’s turned out while Hyouma’s too busy being obviously entranced by him . He stares as Kunigami’s eyes trace over the dips and valleys of his own skin and the way the ink delicately curls into his waist.
“I’ll wrap it for you,” offers Hyouma, and Kunigami nods.
“I feel bad,” Kunigami blurts as Hyouma holds the wrap to his back.
Frowning, Hyouma asks, “For what?”
“I’m not really an artsy guy,” he admits. “I just. Don’t really have the words to tell you how beautiful I think this is, ‘s all. Maybe if I were, I’d be able to explain how I feel in a way that makes sense to you.”
Hyouma’s mouth feels dry as he pulls the wrap around his waist, the urge to grab Kunigami’s head and kiss him on the lips is getting harder to ignore.
…It’s probably the way Kunigami looks at him, right at that moment. It’s pure passion, the adrenaline that shouts at Hyouma to stop ignoring his baseline urges and just kiss the damn man.
So he does, because why not?
Hyouma tightens the wrap into a snug fit around Kunigami’s waist as the other reaches up to pull his hair behind his ears. The reciprocation feels more like an invitation, warm and welcoming.
“… Was that ok?” Kunigami asks when he pulls back.
Hyouma huffs a laugh. “More than ok, hero. We should go on a date soon, yeah?” He reaches up to Kunigami’s cheek, just to feel the skin there.
“Mhmm,” he hums dazedly. “What about dinner?”
“As long as you pay,” says Hyouma. “Then it’s no problem at all.”
Kunigami swallows, suddenly nervous. “I was so worried I wasn’t going to see you after today.”
Hyouma rolls his eyes. “You could have just gotten another tattoo.” Kunigami’s so dense, worrying over nothing. He’d never admit he was worrying over the exact same thing, so he can’t exactly blame him.
“I didn’t really think of that,” he says. “I only ever planned on getting just the one.”
“With me around, you’ll be getting plenty more.” Hyouma smiles. “You can be my personal canvas, for all of my whims and desires. Sounds good?”
“Sounds perfect. ”
That cold exterior was definitely worth taking a crack at.