Work Text:
Your hand quivered as you handed the tattoo shop owner your portfolio of intricate drawings. He had re-introduced himself to you as Yunho. Tattoos covered his arms with thick black lines that swirled into a nonsense of shapes. His arm muscles twitched through the thick ink as he flipped through the pages of your intricate drawings. His tongue rested between his teeth as his eyes flicked back up to you.
“Do you have any experience on skin?” His voice is deep and sudden against the shop’s thick silence and takes you by surprise. While you had coordinated with him through email prior to your visit, you quivered with anxiety as the shop owner continued to look at you through his deep eyes.
You and Yunho had gone to art school together, and while you went down the same paths he was never the nicest. He had gained a reputation for being arrogant in school and it was clear that this had carried over when he opened his private studio.
“Some.” Your voice was quiet.
A smile graces his lips, tongue in cheek. He raises his eyebrows.
“So none?” He smirks. You open your mouth to protest but he jerks his head to the right.
“Follow me.” He turns down a long hallway to his left with you trailing behind. He turns to an unassuming door and opens it without knocking.
Inside, a red haired man is crouched over tattooing a client’s back. His black sweater is tugged up to his elbows revealing more intricate fine black lines. His head turns, revealing a cyber sigilistic - esque tattoo across his neck. Beneath his ripped jeans you spot a snake trailing up his leg to his mid section, leaving your imagination to run wild.
He doesn’t react to his studio door opening.
“Jongho! I got you an apprentice." Yunho is grinning ear to ear when he says this, like there’s an unspoken joke that you’re unaware of. Jongho’s eyes are half hidden by his thick red hair as they catch yours.
“Don’t want one.” Jongho answered simply, before ducking back down to continue tattooing.
“Too bad.” Yunho pats you on the lower back into Jongho’s private room. You stumble forward a few steps. “I already have one, so I can’t take her.” In your peripheral you see Yunho cast a wink in your direction, and you know he’s lying through his teeth. You turn back to see that Jongho has finally turned to look at you fully.
His eyes are wide beneath his heavy red fringe, his plush pink lips are parted slightly as they rest on you. His silence is taken as an answer from Yunho, who turns and slams the door behind him.
You and the client on the table jump, but Jongho is still staring at you.
“I don’t… uh what do i?” Your voice is a quiet squeak against the constant drone of Jongho’s machine in his hand.
He smiles so slightly you aren’t sure if it’s a trick of the light. His eyes glitter with endearment for a moment before he leans down again. You can see his ears are as red as his hair.
“You can come back tomorrow.” Jongho doesn't look back up, his voice is layered with gravel. “I’ll deal with you later.”
You don’t move for a solid second. Your shock camouflaged by fear. He finally looks up. His eyes are hard and black against the bright lights, nothing like they were moments ago.
“Do you need help opening the door?” His eyebrows are pinched in mock concern. Without a further word you turn on your heel and slam the door behind you.
Down the hall, you hear Yunho cackle.
“Is he done with you already?” He purrs when you pass by the front desk.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You call over your shoulder as you fling the front door open.
˙⋆✮
Your knees trembled beneath your skirt.
You were sitting on a small stool in the corner of Jongho’s personal studio, a sketchbook propped on your knees in an attempt to busy yourself before his arrival. His soft eyes echo in your mind.
He had yet to show up but Yunho had grinned ear to ear when he pointed you in the direction of Jongho’s door.
It smelled heavily of musk and had a faint yellow glow from the lone lamp in the corner. The tattoo chair and its machinery nearly took up the entire room. The walls were covered with elaborate sketches and designs.
The door handle turning ripped you from your trance of thoughts and you were gripped with anxiety as Jongho stepped into the darkly lit room.
A large black oversized sweater hung from his shoulders. His jeans were so baggy you couldn’t see his feet. His thick red hair still hung in front of his eyes, which widened when they landed on you.
“Jesus Christ you came back?” His facade drops for only a moment again as he steadies his racing heart.
“Why wouldn’t I?” you puff out your chest defiantly. He pauses, his brow creased dramatically.
“I didn’t scare you off?” He asks again, still not having moved from his spot by the door. You could practically hear Yunho giggling down the hall. You ball your fists. While his mock personality was off putting, the glimpse of his real side you saw when you first entered was the only thing on your mind.
Much like Yunho, Jongho had garnered a reputation around the city for being a quiet, aggravated yet talented artist. While Yunho’s studio housed some of the best artists, you never imagined Yunho would be so cynical to pair you up with the one who was notorious for making apprentices leave within their first 24 hours. What you read online was nothing lile the short glimpse you saw earlier.
“Were you supposed to?” You try to ask innocently. His brow furrows deeper than you thought possible.
He slams the door behind him and throws his bag on the chair. His hands find his hair and drag through it dramatically.
Jongho looks around his studio, as if searching for an escape from the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the shop. His eyes land on a dustpan and brush stacked pathetically in the corner. He snatches them and shoves them toward you.
“The shop needs sweeping.” Was all he said. You take the small brush in your hands. It was barely big enough to sweep a desk, let alone a whole shop.
“Do you have a broom?” You ask, peering up at him.
“That is the broom.” He grins. You fight not to roll your eyes as you stand up and begin the monotonous task of bending over to sweep less than a foot of floor, before moving to your next patch.
Your short black skirt fought to betray you with every motion, if Jongho hadn’t busied himself with a sketchbook you swore he would be laughing at your struggle.
Once you breached out to the hallway, it was hard to ignore as Yunho walked by and cackled at you as he passed. With every sweep you grew more upset with the predicament.
This felt more like a humiliation ritual than it did an apprenticeship. It felt like the price you had to pay for even attempting at becoming an apprentice at the best tattoo shop in town. Frustration built with the realization that Yunho’s reputation for being selective about apprentices had bent for you only to watch you struggle. And you weren’t going to let that happen.
Your progress was slow and could be considered pathetic to those watching. The day dragged by as you continued to inch down the hallway and through the rooms. Only when you finally made it to the door did you stand up to look behind you.
The floor was spotless, but a beautiful and normal sized broom sitting behind the front desk caught your eye. You stomp over to it and fight the urge to snap it in half.
Instead you bring your rage back to Jongho’s personal room and fling the door open. He’s inside drawing on a yellow’d sketchbook and doesn’t look up when you enter.
You throw the dustpan and brush in the ground and kick it into the corner. You scowl when he still doesn’t look up.
“Okay what now? Mopping with clorox wipes?” You scowl.
“Do you want to?” He still doesn’t look up. You stomp to your chair in the corner and take a seat. You don’t respond, knowing that that would indeed follow if Jongho was feeling maniacal enough.
He rolls away from the desk he was drawing at to place his sketchbook on the tattoo chair. You catch a glimpse of an intricate black inked drawing of a chrysanthemum with red ink dripping from the petals like blood. He slams the sketchbook shut when he notices you looking, he almost seems embarrassed.
“I assume you know how to prep for a client?” He doesn’t hold your eye contact nor does he wait for a response. “Can you get the chair ready?” He turns away. You can’t help but notice his protruding muscles that peek over the top of his wrinkled t-shirt.
You don’t waste the effort of responding and instead busy yourself disinfecting the chair and it’s surrounding equipment. Jongho fiddled with his needles in the corner like he couldn’t meet your eye.
You hum deep in your throat, before grabbing a nearby container of disinfectant wipes, and wiping down the chair and its surrounding areas.
Behind you, Jongho flicks a switch on his speaker, a lucid guitar solo breaks the silence before he can turn the audio down further. He finally turns to face you.
“Are you scared of me?” His question comes from left field and hits you with a numbing shock that makes your hands clammy. Meeting his eyes that rest beneath his red hair ups your heart rate tenfold. You furrow your bows.
“No. Why would I be?” You break eye contact by busying yourself applying saran wrap to the chair. He scoffs and makes his way next to you to watch your motions over your shoulder.
“Most people leave by now. I apparently have a bad attitude.” He folds his arms, still watching.
“That I can agree with.” You say under your breath, fully hoping he would hear it and take the hint to let the silence succumb once more. You take a step back.
Suddenly his arm juts out and catches you around your waist, preventing you from taking any further steps back. You whip your head over his shoulder and turn around, surprised at the sudden touch from the self proclaimed walking bad attitude.
Jongho’s face is painted in an obvious glare as he yanks you to your left by the belt loop on your skirt.
“Hey! What the fu-” You begin to yell, fighting the red blush that fights to decorate your cheeks.
“You almost knocked down my entire machine” Jongho’s voice is quick, almost scarily quiet against his furious brow. “Pay more attention before you cost me thousands of fucking dollars.” He unhooks his fingers from your belt loop but continues to glare at you.
Your mouth hangs ajar. The blush you fought so hard to prevent leaves your ears red hot. Despite his obvious anger, there was something behind his eyes that captivated you.
His eyes trail from yours down to your collar bone, where a tattoo of a few fragmented stars peaks out beneath your hanging hair. Jongho flips your hair over your shoulder and leans in to look at the tattoo.
You suck in any remaining air from your lungs and hold it as he traces over one of the stars. Praying that he wouldn’t notice you fighting not to breathe beneath his touch.
“These look like shit.” He says flippantly, while straightening back up. “Who did them?”
You release the pent up air slowly through your nose, contemplating if this would be a worthy fight to take.
“Someone from art school.” The answer slips out despite better judgement. He raises a taunting pierced eyebrow that makes your insides do yet another backflip. His earlier comment was more embarrassing that it was hurtful. The thought of him not liking anything on you left you with an overwhelming sense of shame that you couldn't quite put your finger on yet. The concept of forcing Jongho to like you hung over your head like a storm cloud in a tornado, just another thing to worry about.
“Oh art school?” He mimics your tone. Don’t play back. You tell yourself, biting your lip to prevent any further comments slip out. The two of you glare at each other for a painstakingly silent minute.
“Would you let me re-do them?” His voice is surprisingly gentle again and catches you off guard. The sudden gentleness jolts you to your core and is an unwelcome variation from his usual hard toned drone. You raise your nose.
“Maybe if you’re good.” You say this in hopes of his furrowed brow that you’ve come to appreciate returning. He rolls his eyes and turns away. It was then that you realized how close he had been to you, and the space from where he once stood felt surprisingly empty.
“Get out.” His voice is edged with needles again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He adds. You grab your bag from the single chair and dart out without turning back. Your heart still beat furiously from the entire encounter and left your knees weak.
Jongho seemed to have an adverse effect on you that you hadn’t predicted. His curious presence made your heartbeat increase and left you feeling out of body in a way you didn’t expect your tattoo apprenticeship to do to you. The feeling made your anticipation for the following weeks increase steadily with each passing minute. The blooming need to conquer Jongho as a mentor fuels you.
˙⋆✮
The next few days continue like the last. Filled with monotonous useless tasks like sweeping the floor with the dustpan and organizing the black ink from lightest to darkest (they were all the same shade.)
Jongho was good at the facade he had built himself, it hadn’t slipped quite as much as it had the first day despite your effort to remain on his good side. You quickly learned how he preferred his tattoo chair and machine be prepped, when he preferred his clients to arrive, and when he typically arrived for work.
It was later in the day, you were busy with your sketchbook. Sketching had become a solace against the agonizingly quiet tattoo sessions Jongho preferred when with clients.
While you prided yourself on a variety of art styles, it was hard not to sketch Jongho in front of you right now.
When you had looked up from your chair moments earlier, your heart nearly stuttered. Jongho’s thick red hair was pushed away from his forehead with a wire headband, revealing his thick eyebrows. One was pierced with a black bar while the other had a detailed slit. Said eyebrows were furrowed with concentration.
He looked almost peaceful as he continued to tattoo. His eyes gently swept over his drawing, and looked at it with admiration as he finally turned the machine off after a three hour session. Below him was a beautiful inked drawing of a chandelier, forever immortalized on this client’s skin.
You ignore the sudden onslaught of jealousy that erupted from you when you watched how he looked at the female client before him, he smiled gently and helped her from the chair after applying the bandage. His hand lingered on the small of her back after she offered him a hug of gratitude. You always knew this side of him was in there, but your inability to draw it out made your cheeks burn.
You snap your notebook shut as he closes the door behind the client, ready to reassemble his station. Surprisingly, Jongho starts helping by throwing away the cups of ink that are still on his table.
“You’re quiet.” He says. Knowing that he preferred silence, the past few days have been filled with minimal conversation as he studied your routine. “I expected you to be more outgoing.” Whether he intended to or not the comment stung. You bite your tongue. You both continue working in silence for several moments.
“Are you jealous, y/n?” The comment makes you nearly drop the box of tissues you were holding, you turn around. Jongho was leaning on the chair, his arms folded against his printed t-shirt. The wire headband made his red hair stick out on top that made you want to reach up and smooth down.
“Why the fuck would I be jealous.” You fight to make your voice sound as dangerous as his could be. He smirk pulls at his plush lips.
“You look fucking pissed!” He points to his eyebrows, it was only then that you realized you had been glaring since the client left.
“Just leave me alone, Jongho. You make my life hard enough.” Your voice quivers slightly, you’re eager to believe he wouldn’t notice.
“Really. I make your life hard?” He stands up straight from the chair. You busy yourself with the equipment on the counter. Your hands burn red hot with anger. Jongho was right and you hated it. So what if you’re jealous? He had shown this random woman more adoration than he had to you in the entire week of you doing his dirty work. You unintentionally slam a cupboard.
You turn around to see that Jongho was now dangerously close. His arms were still firmly crossed against his chest and his eyebrows were raised.
“Tell me how I make your life hard.” His voice is almost a whisper as he challenges you. He knows you won't respond and he’s getting a kick out of this, you tell yourself. You ball your fists in the hem of your skirt. The skirt you wore in hope to get his attention.
It feels foolish now that Jongho had called you out, but this morning you had specifically picked out a black plaid skirt that matched the pattern on one of Jongho’s jackets in hope that he’d call attention to it. Anything for a normal conversation with the man that made your heart beat out of your chest.
He raises his hand and taps a finger against your chin, which was jutted out in an attempt to clamp your mouth closed. Your anger transforms into embarrassment, but you know better than to swipe his hand away.
“Good girl.” He murmurs when you don’t comment. He finally backs away.
“Fuck you Jongho.” The comment escapes through your pursed lips. He turns around again, a painted smile on his lips again. “You don’t need to make this worse.” This comment slips out without an ounce of better judgement.
“Then fucking leave! I’m not keeping you here by any means, all you do is sit in that fucking corner.” He raises his voice for the first time since you’ve met him and it takes you both by surprise. His eyebrows shoot down in concern as he watches your jaw go slack. You hadn’t prepared a comment in response.
There’s a knock at the door. Yunho enters before any confirmation is given. A shit eating grin across his face, it’s obvious he’d been listening to this interlude.
“You’re finally leaving?” He rubs his hands together menacingly. Tears threaten to spill as you watch the two artists exchange glances. Yunho shoves an open palm into Jongho’s chest.
“You owe me $50. I knew she’d be gone in a week.” He says this quieter and doesn’t acknowledge your presence again. Jongho mashes his hand into his face, massaging his furrowed brow. His other hand is fisted into his pocket.
The shock of knowing they bet on your tenure is enough to snap you back into reality.
“No! I’m not leaving.” You fold your arms across your chest. “I believe Jongho and I were having a civilized conversation that you interrupted, Yunho.” Jongho stifles a laugh into the hand that still covers his face. With his other hand he pushes Yunho towards the door.
Yunho grumbles obscenities but slinks out of the studio. Jongho finally removes his hand from his face.
“Thanks, I almost lost $50.” He grabs his bag from a hook.
“You bet on me?” You fight to keep your voice even as you grab your bag and sketchbook from your beloved chair of solitude. Jongho hesitates.
“Yeah… Yunho bet you’d be gone in a week and I bet that you’d last.” The second part of his statement intrigued you.
“What made you think I’d last.” He meets your eyes for the first time since the outburst. To your surprise his eyes are soft again.
“You normally take the bus home right?” He’s eager to change the subject. “It’s dark out, let me drive you.” Your jaw slacks again.
“Are you trying to butter me up after yelling at me?” Not to mention the 50$, you think too.
“Maybe,” he drawls. You roll your eyes before nodding.
“Fine, but promise you want me back tomorrow.” The promise is a thinly veiled shield to protect what little remaining confidence you had left.
“I would love to have you back tomorrow.” He looks you in the eyes when he makes this promise.
˙⋆✮
The car ride is agonizingly silent. You can see Jongho sneak occasional glances at you in your peripheral vision. His eyes hover at stop lights and skate down your legs. You didn’t expect the car ride with the man who loves silence to be particularly joyous but this was the next level of awkward.
Everything was entirely silent except the hum of the electric engine. The car was nice and complimented Jongho nicely. It has a black leather interior and smelt faintly of pine needles. Red LEDs glimmered beneath the seats and served as the only light between you.
“Is red your favorite color?” You regret the childish question as soon as it sneaks out. He smiles cynically, but doesn’t look at you. You bite your tongue hard and slam your forehead against the window with a defeated thud. The car goes silent for several more minutes.
The car slows to a stop as you reach your apartment complex. You gather your bag but are cut off by Jongho’s gaze lingering again. His hair is still pushed back with its wired headband.
“I like orange.” He says quietly like it's an admission of guilt. His eyes are earnest. You smile like you’re talking to a toddler.
“Wow! Orange!” You hesitate. You both laugh at the sudden awkwardness that's built up between the silence.
“Shut up.” He gently pushes against your shoulder. Silence reigns king in the car once more as you’re suddenly caught in an intense staring match with Jongho. “I hope I don’t actually make your life that hard.”
That's your queue to go. While you would love to chat with Jongho all night. Really. The idea of heartfelt conversations with someone who makes your heart nearly stop is the last thing on your bucket list. You grab your bag and open your door.
After exiting you turn to meet Jongho’s eyes again. You pat the top of your head.
“Your hair is sticking up.” You tease. He mirrors your motion and gently smoothes down his mess of red hair, he smiles too.
“Thanks.”
You slam the door, eager to run inside and wash away the red blush that’s become abundant on your cheeks. You fight the rising smile.
Only when you finally close your apartment door behind you do you realize the very noticeable absence of your sketchbook in your bag.
Your heart drops to your toes and a cold white sweat washes over you. You must have left it in Jonho’s car.
While the thought of the red headed man going through your sketchbook may have brought excitement to you any other day, you had left your bookmark on the page with an elaborate drawing of Jongho you had sketched earlier.
You nearly fall to your knees with nervous anticipation for tomorrow.
˙⋆✮
Your commute to work is antagonizing. Numerous thoughts skate through your mind ranging in severity.
Maybe he didn’t even see it. He’s going to be so fucking weirded out. Maybe he didn't even notice it was there. You’re going to get fucking fired. Maybe it’s in the studio. if i get there early enough….
This thought is cut off by you barging into Jongho’s private studio. You’re stopped dead in your tracks as you’re met with Jongho leaning against the chair, your sketchbook in hand.
His red hair is once again hanging in front of his eyes. An oversized t-shirt hangs from his muscular tattooed arms, and for the first time ever he’s wearing shorts. Your eyes hesitate in the detailed inking of a snake that trails from below the knee upward… just out of sight.
Jongho is thumbing through the pages of your notebook.
“I’m so sorry.” is all you can think to say.
“for what?” He responds coolly. This freak is going to make me say it? The thought drums through your head. Your mouth hangs open and houses a stutter that refuses to form any real words. He turns the sketchbook towards you.
“Can I get this one?” He asks innocently. The drawing is one of your favorites. It’s a small dove flying upwards, its mouth open in a scream forever frozen in place.
Your stutter is replaced with a nervous laugh. This has to be a humiliation ritual.
“I’m serious.” His face doesn’t change the slightest. Yunho appears in the doorway behind you and quickly assesses the situation before him. His eyes widened.
“Jongho you don’t have to do this, you don’t want her work on you forever.” Yunho leans against the door frame and adapts a casual posture, but his shoulders stay tense. Jongho raises his head, his vision carrying thousands of miniscule daggers with it.
You watch as Jongho rolls his shorts dangerously high, revealing a toned thigh beneath the dark fabric. Your eyes trail the elaborate snake tattoo upwards and stop at its head. Its mouth is open with a ferocious snarl. Your eyes linger too long, Jongho stares at you expectantly.
“You said you’ve tattooed your skin before, so do it again.” He pries. Your hands fumble with the bag still in your hands.
“W-well yeah but I didn’t expect you to want… ME to tattoo you.” You try to hold your composure.You know if he’d gone through your sketchbook enough to see your drawing, he undoubtedly would have seen the love portrait you drew without a second thought the day prior.
“Maybe I like the drawing.” He shrugs, before taking a seat at the open chair.
“Dude… You win the bet you’d don’t have to do this.” Yunho tries again.
“Fuck off and leave us alone, Yunho.” Jongho’s hardstamped sentence made your heartbeat quicken, your ears burn red hot. Despite having been alone in this jail cell of a room alone with him before, the thought of spending the next few hours closely bent over Jongho’s thigh made your head ache and heartbeat catapulted.
“You’ve proven your point, Jongho.” Yunho tries to interject again, but trails off when he meets Jongho’s eyes again. He rolls his eyes and turns quickly on his heel. Slamming the door behind him. The loud bang snatches you into reality and reminds you of your drawing that is now being printed out at the printer behind Jongho.
“What does he mean?” Your voice is quiet against the loud metal needle clinking into place in the machine. He presses the pedal once and the machine comes to love with a whirring metallic thrum.
He hands you a pair of latex gloves and takes a seat on the chair, pulling his shorts leg up even higher, revealing a clean shaven patch in the perfect shape of your drawing. He prepared for this? The thought jolts through your head makes you fumble with your rubber gloves as you try to pull them on.
“Grab the stencil from the printer,” he murmurs, jerking his head behind him. Your hands tremor as you pull the page from the print and detach the stencil from the paper.
You turn back to Jongho, who’s looking at you expectantly. He’s holding his thigh as he gestures with his head for you to sit on the stool he normally resides in.
You pull up the rolling stool to the chair and bend over his open patch of skin. Hands still trembling, you place the stencil onto the clean shaven patch of skin. It lines up with his snake tattoo perfectly. A snake chasing a bird up into his core.
“Like that?” You shake your head in an attempt to get any loose hairs off your forehead.
“What do you think?” Jongho’s eyes are the soft molten brown that you saw the first day of your apprenticeship. You consider calling off the tattoo right then and begging on your hands and knees for him to look at you like that forever. His prying eyes pull you from your thoughts. You nod.
“I think it’s perfect,” perfect was an understatement. Everything on Jongho’s body was immaculate, all of his tattoos were intricately and seemingly intentionally done. The style of the snake tattoo matched Jongho’s drawings on the walls, and had undoubtedly been drawn by him. Despite the dove being in a nearly invisible spot, the placing and subject matter seemed to fit together perfectly. The snake is forever chasing a dove in pursuit.
He gestures with his head again to the tattoo machine resting on the table. You had tattooed numerous times prior, you knew what you were doing. The combination of your hair on your neck and Jongho looking at you sent shivers down your spine. Combined with the hard pressed idea that you were completing one of Jongho’s works, your vision seemed to blur.
Without giving yourself time to worry, you switch the machine on and crack your neck before bending over Jongho. With one final exhale, you gently tip the needle into his skin and begin the outline.
Above you, you hear Jongho take a sharp breath inwards and hold it. The thought of Jongho having a low pain tolerance rumbles through your head but disintegrates when you straighten up and see his thoroughly inked arm. He’s staring at you like he has something to say but doesn’t have the words to say them. You bend over again,nestling your head into his lower stomach as you tattoo.
Jongho releases his thigh and grabs an elastic band that was on his wrist. With you still tattooing, he gathers your hair gently at the nape of your neck. Jongho runs his fingers through any tangle before loosely securing the bunch of hair with the elastic band. He takes another sharp breath inward, and leaves his hand resting gently on the back of your head.
“Distraction much?” You mutter in an attempt to break the heavy silence that has once again settled amongst you. Jongho doesn’t respond and instead continues to play with your hair. His other hand squeezes the arm rest.
“y/n…” your name leaves his lips in a moan. You jerk up to meet his eyes. they’re soft again, and crinkle when he smiles. “You don’t have to press so hard. There’s thinner skin in that… area.” Your cheeks burn the same color as Jongho’s hair as you tuck your head back down.
You work to finish the outline but the presence of Jongho’s hand on your head and the proximity of your face to your lap is making your heart beat in ways that shouldn’t be humanly possible.
“You're shaking.” He identifies, watching you struggle through this predicament.
“I know.” You grumble, forcing a soothing breath through your lungs before going back to the outline.
“Look at me.” He says quietly. You initially refuse. Unwilling to see what the gorgeous man above you had to offer. “Look at me,” he says again. This time he pulls your hair back gently until your eyes meet.
“Breathe.” He takes a deep breath in and out. You watch his chest expand and contact, and try to mirror his motions. “You don’t have to prove anything.” You turn your head back to your work when he says this.
“Yeah right.” You grumble. Regardless, you take several deep breaths to match Jongho’s breathing pattern, then duck down to your safe space of resting your head on his lower stomach. The position isn’t inherently intimate but leaves a heavy blanket of curiosity in the room.
Talking helps your hand to steady, and the remainder of the outline is applied smoothly within the following minutes. The silence is occasionally obstructed with light moans from Jongho when you get closer to a certain area that you still aren’t able to acknowledge. His hand still rested on the back of your neck, and would push down anytime he moaned.
“So, you looked through my sketchbook?” The question had hung in your mind ever since you walked through this door this morning. His whining made you crave a distraction.
Jongho moans a response.
“All of it?” you pry.
“All of it.” He laughed lightly, finally using his words. You bite your lip, face flushed once more. “Would it be tacky to get a tattoo of myself?” he continues.
This comment makes you pull away fully, the rolling chair beneath you allowing distance to be put between you. His hand leaves the back of your head where it had become nestled with a tug. You stare at him, not knowing if he deserves to be cussed out or ignored.
“If I asked you to, would you include the little hearts too?” He smiles sweetly and rubs a hand through his tangled red hair.
“I did NOT draw hearts around you Jongho, grow up.” You roll your eyes but keep the distance.
“Oh come on, you wanted to.” The soft side of Jongho that you had expected came with an unexpected bratty personality. He pats his thigh, waving you back to where you were. You hesitate but concede by rolling back to your station.
His hand is outstretched and catches your chin as you roll closed. His eye contact is strong and makes you nearly lose your breakfast.
“Relax y/n. I’m doing this for you.” His voice is quiet, he squeezes your chin and pulls it closer to his lap.
“You don’t want this tattoo?” You grumble. He laughs.
“I want this tattoo almost as much as I want to prove my point.” This makes you stop in your tracks, needle inches from his skin.
“You’re using me to prove a point to Yunho?” Your voice quivers again. His hand finds its way to the back of your head again, locking you in place.
“My point being that we should add you to our team once you’ve completed your apprenticeship. I’m obsessed with your work.” He tugs at your hair slightly. “If you’d let me finish baby.”
You swallow a lump that’d risen in your throat. You adjust your grip and press the machine back into Jongho’s skin, way harder than you should have. A whimper permeates through Jongho’s lips as he rocks his head back again. Freak echos through your bind as you try your best to focus on the rest of the tattoo.
Thankfully, the design lended itself for looking best as a smaller size. It was nearly impossible to focus with Jongho’s hand still fisted deep into your hair and occasionally moaning as your needle went further between his legs.
You rub the design with a damp paper towel. It was perfect, and you both knew it. You look up at Jongho, who was already staring at you with his deep boba eyes. He raises an eyebrow.
“Done?” He asks. You nod. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “What do you do now baby?” You bite your lip, and reach for the bottle of disinfectant and second skin on the nearby table.
Your hands still shake as you press the bandage onto your finished tattoo. Jongho’s hands held his shorts back and watched as you smoothed your hands along your work.
“Is this how you train all your apprenticeships?” You ask quietly.
“No… Just you.” The response comes out between laughs.
“And what makes me special?” You pull back slightly, despite your better judgement to stay between his legs forever. His eyes sparkle as he smiles.
“You’re intriguing, I can’t help that.” His smirk is deadly, and his eyes are fiery beneath his red hair. “I know you feel the same about me.”
You dry swallow and try to busy yourself cleaning up his machine as you had numerous times before.
“And if I did say I find you intriguing too?” You ask. Nervous for the response.
“Then I’d ask you to dinner at my place.” He’s standing up from the chair now. His broad chest is inches from your head, that you still keep tucked down at your station. He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Thoughts?” he whispers in your ear.
You nod. Jongho unlinks his arm from your shoulder and leaves the studio without another word but leaves your legs hot.
˙⋆✮
The rest of the day drags at an agonizing pace. You spend your time sketching at your corner chair. Occasionally you sneak glances at Jongho, who was hunched over a 5 hour back tattoo.
His red hair was pulled back from his forehead, and revealed his brown eyes occasionally darting to the corner where you sat. When your eyes did meet, he was quick to look away and his ears burnt bright red.
When the client finally left, you jumped to your feet. Eager to finish today’s tidying in lieu for spending time with Jongho.
“Leave it.” Jongho said simply when you started to deassemble his station. He already had his bag slung over his shoulder, car keys in hand. “Don’t forget your sketchbook.” He winks.
Your cheeks flush bright red, and it takes everything in you to not throw a rude comment his way, but he’s already halfway out the studio door.
Yunho was sitting at the front desk with his legs kicked up on the counter.
“See you tomorrow?” He says as Jongho passes.
“Maybe.” Jongho turns to look at you as you fumble with your bag behind him.
“Maybe?” Yunho’s eyes slide to you. His face goes slack when he watches Jongho take your hand. He quickly ducks his head to the sketchbook in his hands, mumbling something about how he was busy tomorrow anyway.
Jongho’s car waits in the parking lot like a sanctuary from everything around you. He opens the passenger door for you, and turns on the red LED’s once he sits in the driver seat.
He doesn’t buckle his seatbelt or start the car. Instead, he’s staring at you, mashing his lips together like he’s trying to solve a complex math problem. Your jaw hangs slack as you stare at him. He’d taken his head band off, his red hair still hung in front of his eyes, making him impossible to read. If you could just see his eyes.
You reach out and brush his thick hair away from his face. He catches your wrist in the action, and pulls you into him. Your heart leaps into your throat and takes control as you press your lips firmly into his.
They were as soft as they looked. He was ready for you, and parted his mouth instantly letting you in. Your hands are ravenous. They travel up into his hand and nestle on his muscular thigh. He grips your chest tightly, and travels up to your throat where they rest firmly. He pulls away, leaving you out of breath.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He’s breathless too.
“Ummm maybe like a week?” you try to lighten the mood in an attempt to draw any attention away from your flushed face and heaving lungs.
Jongho smiles, but pulls away. A wave of cold washes through you as he untangles his limbs and opens the car door.
He slams the door behind him with a loud thud that rocks your head. Before you have time to recover, Jongho yanks the back door open and takes a seat inside. You gawk at him from the passenger seat.
You hold his eye contact strongly for what feels like an hour. Eventually, Jongho opens his arms and raises his eyebrows expectantly. His muscular thighs are spread, leaving the perfect amount of room for…
Without hesitation you unbuckle and crawl over the center console. Your boot gets stuck on the shift, causing you to fall nearly face first into Jongho’s waiting lap.
“Excited are we?” He murmurs as you right yourself, legs cradling his torso. You had half a mind to slap him right there if your heart wasn’t taking control.
Said heart was beating about a thousand times per second. With every brush of skin against Jongho you craved more, you didn’t care how or why you just needed him to quench your rapidly beating heart.
Without waiting for a response his mouth hesitantly finds yours. His large hands snake beneath your shirt and find their way up your neck. He pushed you back just enough so you were resting on his pelvis as he gently rolled his hips forward.
The action made your vision go black. Your hips buck forward into his chest, a low rumble bubbles into his chest in a fit of laughter. You bite down on his bottom lip, hard. The laughter stops with a light moan.
With each push forward from Jongho, you grip further into his shoulders. You pull away long enough to tug his shirt up, over his head. You take a moment to admire his decorated chest.
The same cyber sigilism designs that covered his studio walls were decorating his chest. An elaborate angel with her wings spread is just above Jongho’s belly button, leading your eyes up to his pierced nipples. You catch yourself reaching for one, playing with the warm metal against his hot skin.
His mouth found residence in your neck as you found yourself preoccupied. Jongho’s strong arms still held you securely in place, as his hips continued to slowly roll beneath you. Your shoulders slam into the driver's seat behind you, both you and Jongho’s heads rocking back.
Jongho’s hand finds your chin, and pulls your head forward back into his. Your foreheads clunk and your eyes crash into each.
“You are the only one I do this to.” He re affirms his earlier statement. Your head quivers as you nod, unable to hold eye contact. “Hey.” He taps your cheek. “Look at me.”
When your eyes meet again the puzzle pieces of your world seem to fit together. Jongho was everything you’d been missing and was someone you hoped would be in your life for a long time.
“I like you a lot, y/n. You deserve this special treatment.” His smile is gummy and conceals his eyes when he smiles. You nod again.
“But I don’t want this to be a one off.” You whisper your voice is quiet against the loud thumping of both of your hearts.
“Oh, it won’t be if I can help it.” He kisses you quickly. “Do you want to come home with me?” He cranes his head so he can catch your eyes again. You nod again, eager.
“Use your words, baby.” His tongue is lethal, and his hips rock forward again driving an ungodly moan to rupture from you.
“Yes, please.” You smile as you say it. Jongho pulls you fully into his chest, with your legs wrapping around his muscular torso. One of his hands caressed your ass as the other opened the door again. A whine curdled in your throat as the cold air hits you again. “All done?” You sat quietly into his shoulder.
“Just wait till we’re home baby.” Jongho made his way to the passenger door, which he opened and gently set you on the seat inside. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he pulled the seatbelt against your chest.
Jongho closes the door gently, and climbs into the driver seat on the opposite side. His hand instantly finds your thigh, squeezing it heavily.
You try to quell the burning fire inside of you and act normal as he starts the car, Jongho’s words are still echoing around your head and making your stomach ignite.
After flicking the car on, Jongho matches your eyes.
“Are you ready?” He asks again.
“Hurry.” The plea comes out without a thought and makes Jongho kick his head back in laughter. He shifts the car into drive and nestles his hand between your thighs again, right at your core.
“Alright baby let’s go.”