Work Text:
It started the way so many things did between them. Sam, yapping in bed with Seb just wanting five more minutes of sleep.
“We could go the weekend our favourite band is in town. Get tickets. Stay in one of those hovel things.”
“Hostels, Sammy. You’re thinking of hostels.”
Sam perks up, knowing he now has Seb’s full attention. “Yeah, those! I’ve got some money saved. We could vacation on a budget. Go to some of your favourite hangouts. Convince me to run away with you and leave Pelican Town in the dust for good.”
That elicits a small chuckle from Seb. “This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
Sam goes quiet until Seb cracks and eyelid, peeking up at his boyfriend. His usual smile is present, but strained, not fully reaching his eyes. Sadly, it’s been like this for a good long time now. Ever since his dad returned home from active duty.
“Just need a break, Seb,” he murmurs, suddenly intently focused on the wall over Sebastian’s left shoulder.
He doesn’t have to say any more. Seb knows. Understands the strain where there had been hope. How the guilt Sam carries at not being able to reconnect the way he thought they should, is hollowing him from the inside out. What was supposed to have been a weight lifted from his shoulders just seemed to add more to the load.
“Vincent still comes to me for his bedtime stories.”
It’s all he says by way of an explanation, but it’s enough.
Sebastian wraps his arms around Sam, pulling him close. “I’ll get the concert tickets tonight.”
He can practically feel the tension draining out of Sam in real time; his mask of jovial calm snapping back into place, ready to face the day.
“Thank you, Seb,” he murmurs before getting up. “I’ll see you after work tonight.”
~*~
Sam: What if we get tattoos?
Sebastian glances down at his phone as it vibrates across the desk, rolling his eyes affectionately when he sees who it’s from. Sam must be on his work break because the texts are avalanching in all at once in rapid succession. He must have been thinking about this all morning at work, just itching for his break and his phone to run it past Seb.
Sam: A way to commemorate the trip.
Sam: You design mine. I design yours.
Sam: Doesn’t have to be big.
Sam: I wanna pick where it goes.
Sebastian lets out a rare chuckle, the idea already taking root, worming its way into his brain. He knows a guy. Same place he goes for all of his tattoos in Zuzu when he needs a fix.
Of course, that train of thought then leads him down another track, imagining Sam with a tattoo – his tattoo – adorning his body… and finds he likes the idea even more.
Something that Seb picked, stamped onto his boyfriend’s skin like a brand.
Something that felt an awful lot like claiming each other for the world to see.
Something that felt like forever.
Seb: Did you have a design in mind? I know a guy and can easily set this up for us.
Three dots. Sam must be glued to his phone, he thinks with a wry smirk.
Sam: Really?
Sam: That’s awesome!
Sam: YES, I have an idea
Sam: I want to talk to the guy though
Sam: Make it a surprise
Sam: So excited!
Sam: This is gonna be great!
Sebastian laughs at his boyfriend’s inability to put his entire thoughts into one large message; watching as an outpouring of excitement cascades down the page until finally – inevitably – Sam’s break comes to an end and they both go back to work.
~*~~
Turns out that two glorious days in Zuzu was exactly what they both had needed. And now a tattoo to permanently commemorate this - them - before heading back to Pelican Town? Seb is giddy just thinking about it.
Sam bounces around anxiously as he gets off the back of Seb's bike, ruffling his hair back into some semblance of a shape after being trapped under a helmet for so long.
Sebastian catches the tail end of a nervous grimace dance across Sam's face, watching him glance at the colourful neon 'OPEN' sign buzzing in the window.
What if he's having second thoughts? What if he finally realized that tattoos are permanent and he doesn't want a reminder of me on his body forever? What if he’s only been humouring me this entire time and has actually had a horrible vac—"
"How long do you think I'll have to sit still for?"
Sebastian blinks, pulled back from his mini spiral by Sam's innocent question. He lets out a long slow breath, wishing he had the time for a quick cigarette to settle his nerves before shrugging at his boyfriend.
"Guess it depends on how big and detailed the tattoo is."
Sam's eyes dart between the door and Sebastian’s bike nervously, like he’s contemplating a quick getaway.
"We don't have to go through with it if you're having second thoughts, Sammy. I don't want to force you into something that you don't want to do."
Sam's eyebrows shoot up, hair flopping in his eyes as he vigorously shakes his head no.
"No! No. I want the tattoo. I'm not chickening out. Just… remembering that skin doodles are drawn on with needles."
Sebastian bursts out laughing. "Yeah, that's kind of an unavoidable part of the process."
He watches as Sam's shoulders shake, laughter bubbling up in his throat. "You're lucky I love you," he mutters, heat rising up in his cheeks.
Sebastian takes his hand, giving it a little squeeze. "I know,” he says a little too seriously before tacking on a quick, “you'll be fine. I promise."
They step into the parlour together. It feels like a home away from home to Seb. Familiar faces are there to greet them, while the low drone of tattoo guns act as a constant, steady white noise amidst the deep thumping of rock music.
His tattoo artist and shop owner Dave, greets them warmly.
"Sebastian, it's been too long," he laughs, head turning to Sam, "and you've brought me some virgin skin to work with. Nice!" He rubs his hands together, fake-menacingly, as Sebastian notices the way Sam's eyes widen in surprise.
"Nerves of steel on that one, I see," he razzes, motioning for them to follow him to a room at the back. “Got everything prepped and ready to go. Gotta say, I love the vibes of what you’re both going for. Very different, very distinct.”
Seb’s eyes remain glued to Sam, watching as he takes in the space. Dave has art on the walls. Rows and rows of quick flash available and priced to go, as well as several books stuffed with photos of finished tats. Sebastian knows he’s in a few of those albums. Maybe if there’s time, he’ll show Sammy later.
“Alrighty. Who’s first in in the pilot’s chair?”
Sam interjects before Sebastian can even open his mouth.
“You should go first, Sebby. I wanna see firsthand how it looks,” his words tumbling out with skittish excitement.
“So long as you don’t bolt, friend,” Dave laughs, as Seb nods in agreement.
“Nope. Just nervous energy. Lemme burn through it while Sebastian gets his tattoo.”
“I don’t mind. That way, you can see there’s really nothing to it.” Sebastian says, already removing his hoodie.
“So, where are we placing it, Sebastian?” Dave asks as his eyes dart to Sam with a wink.
Sebastian still doesn’t know what it is, but already decided he wants it along his pelvic bone. Figures that way he can catch a glimpse of it whenever he stretches in the mirror. Hell, he may have even daydreamed of doing it around Sam, just to get him going.
He points to the spot where his black skinny jeans already hang dangerously low, past the barely-there curve of his hips, and indicates “here.” Dave just bursts out laughing, looking incredibly pleased.
“Fuckin’ eh! Would you like to do the honours, Sam?”
Sebastian narrows his eyes, glancing between the two of them, as Sam pulls out a tube of… wait, was that lipstick? “Sammy?” he says in warning. “The fuck is going on?”
Sam applies the firetruck red tube of lipstick, lips smacking several times until he’s satisfied with the coverage. Walking up to Seb, he kneels down in front of him with a wink, rests his hands on either side of his hips and leans in.
Holy fuck, what’s going on?
Normally, Sebastian would be absolutely thrilled to have Sam anywhere near his dick but not before a tattoo… oh… oh.
He watches, amazed, as Sam presses his lips to the spot he just specified, leaving a perfect stamp of lipstick behind. “Surprise Sebby,” he mutters, earlier jitters gone as he gazes up with half-lidded eyes.
Holy fuck, he’s never looked so hot in his entire life, Seb thinks, audibly gulping. Sam gets to his feet with a smirk, and is handed a paper towel to wipe off the lipstick.
“I see the vision, and I’m here for it,” Dave grins, pulling out a stencil of lips ready to go. “Well have to get that cleaned up and sanitized first, but your boyfriend over here, already sent me a replica of his lips for the tattoo weeks ago. We just plotted the best way to surprise the fuck outta ya.”
Sebastian is beyond impressed as they prep him for the tattoo. He’s no stranger to ink at this point, but this time feels more intimate than all of his others combined. He wasn’t expecting that. Not from Sam. He was envisioned Sam would go for was something cute and goofy. Like a frog dressed up as his favourite Solarian Chronicles class, or a cartoon version of his motorcycle. But not this.
Dave makes quick work of it, Sebastian deciding on black and red to make the piece really pop. By the time it’s Sam’s turn in the driver’s seat, Sebastian can’t stop staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Fuck, it’s perfect, and mine is so incredibly stupid. He’s gonna hate it.
“Oh, my yoba, Sebby, I fucking love it!”
Sebastian turns himself away from the mirror when he hears an excited Sam. Dave, holding up the frog on a skateboard tattoo that they had designed earlier.
He did a fantastic job. Seb had sent him a picture of Sam’s skateboard, and the man had managed to get the finer details added on just enough to make it recognizable on the small tattoo.
“Y-you do? It’s kinda goofy compared to what you did,” he says sheepishly.
“No, this is great! It’s you and me, isn’t it? The frog and the skateboard? I can’t not look at it and think of us.”
Sam gets it. Of course he does. Seb just nods, nerves in his stomach replaced by the soft flutter of butterflies. This really was a fantastic trip.
Sam chooses his ankle – a respectable spot for a first tattoo – and is instructed to lay down. At the first buzz of the tattoo gun, he jolts.
Dave raises his hands, backing away quickly. “I didn’t even touch him yet, I swear.”
“You gotta sit still, Sammy,” Seb says, trying to calm his boyfriend down. Sam doesn’t look distraught, just so full of energy that he can barely contain himself.
“Sorry. It won’t happen again,” Sam says, taking a deep breath, clasping his hands over his stomach in mock-relaxation. “Won’t move a muscle.”
Both Dave and Seb eye him skeptically. They’re right to do so. Sam seems unable to sit still, jittering at a frequency that almost matches the vibration of the gun. No amount of threats or warnings work, until Dave – sighing in resignation – puts down his tattoo gun and shakes his head.
“The next time he gets tattooed, could you please, I dunno, take your golden retriever to a dog park first and tire him out or something?”
Sam blushes sheepishly as Seb shoots Dave a smirk.
“Got it. Sorry. I forgot to take him on his walk and he’s been cooped up all morning,” he playfully reaches for Sam’s head, mussing his hair as his boyfriend swats his hand away, hopping down off the table.
“I don’t know what you were talking about. That was the most still I’ve sat in ages.”
Dave raises a skeptical brow at the two of them, but Seb just shrugs. “He’s not lying. He actually moves more in his sleep than he did just now.”
“Then Sam should enjoy because that’s probably the only tattoo he’s ever gonna get,” he laughs. “Know a lot of other artists who wouldn’t touch your jumping bean of a boyfriend with a ten-foot pole.”
The men laugh their way up front to settle their tab, and before either of them realizes it, they find themselves back outside at Seb’s bike.
“Well, what did you think, Sammy?” he asks, curious, while busying himself with one of the panniers on the side of the bike. He takes his time, securing any loose items before the long ride home.
Sam pauses, thinking about the experience for a moment before speaking. “The pain level was surprisingly easy.” He glances down at the tattoo covered with a clear film of second skin for the ride home. When they get back to Pelican Town, Seb will show him how he’s always taken care of his tattoos as they heal, making sure Sam treats his right.
“Still happy you went through with it?”
He doesn’t mean to sound so apprehensive, but compared to Sam’s lips literally adorning his pelvic bone, Seb’s choice still seems childish in comparison.
Picking up on the anxiety in Seb’s voice, Sam closes the distance between them in three long strides, taking Seb’s face between the palms of his hands.
“I love it, Sebastian, and I love you.”
Sam doesn’t give Seb’s overactive brain a chance to counter. He just pulls him in for a long, deep kiss, lips still tinged red with the remnants of lipstick that didn’t completely come off. Sebastian melts. It’s not like it’s a particularly romantic area – just some dated strip mall on the outskirts of Zuzu – but with Sam, it’s everything. It always is.