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A shiver ran down Simon’s spine as cool hands traced the surface of his skin.
When and how the two of them had gotten into this position, Simon wasn't sure. Sometime after the first and second cup of sake, he supposed. Not enough for either of them to become fully intoxicated, but certainly enough to dull the edge of his otherwise sharp tongue.
Nahyuta had rolled up the sleeve of their shirt, jacket since forgotten, and showed Simon the full tattoo piece snaking down their arm and onto the palm of their hand. The mark of the defiant dragons, they had explained.
It was all fine and well, discussing such a meaningful topic to the monk. A sober Simon had long deduced that the odd excuse of a glove Nahyuta dawned had a significant meaning, likely covering up something they didn't want others to witness. A tattoo had crossed his mind, perhaps one they kept covered as to keep up professional appearances in a court of law. Either a tattoo or a scar has been his best guess. In the end, it had been both.
This did not explain how Simon wound up in such a position. How had he ended up laying on his stomach, shirtless, whilst Nahyuta traced deft fingers along the scars and curves of his own tattoo?
Before being incarcerated, the massive tattoo had been in progress; it wasn't until his release when it was completed.
A bright eyed, bushy tailed, freshly eighteen year old Simon had made the decision. Spider lilies, painting his biceps and parts of his chest, extending over his pectorals. Entangled across one forearm, a sword stuck from the ground, blade embedded into the soil, as more spider lilies surrounded it. Twenty eight year old Simon, ridden with uncertainty and anxiety, released into the world proper for the first time in half a decade, decided on an owl.
A great horned owl, etched into the pale skin of his back, with its ferocious wings spread wide across his shoulderblades. The piece took up most of the skin space there, and had taken multiple sessions.
Nahyuta hummed from where they hovered behind Simon. Soft, chilled hands massaged into the flesh of Simon’s sides.
“I suppose I'm not terribly surprised,” they said, “you’ve always struck me as the type to have a few hidden markings.”
Simon grunted. “Is that so?” Whether that was a compliment or an insult was yet to be decided.
The pad of one long, lightly callused finger traced along a particular line, somewhere towards the center of Simon’s back. “Yes. The way you're always covered head to toe in strictly black and white, as well as your mysterious aura… I cannot say that it didn't pique my interest in any regard.”
They continued with their thought process, the stare of jade eyes practically burning through pale skin. “Though, I never expected anything quite this detailed. Such a magnificent creature… is there any significance of this choice of design in particular?”
It would take more than three small cups of sake for Simon to reveal those details. He squeezed his eyes shut, and willed his heartbeat to settle to an acceptable rate. When was the last time someone had touched him in this way? He couldn't recall. “Call it symbolism if you will.”
Wisdom, transition, the ability to see through one’s lies… all values he had come to treasure in his bleak little world.
“I see…” The end of Nahyuta’s long, long braid brushed against Simon’s exposed flesh as Nahyuta shifted. Either one of their slim, strong legs straddled either side of Simon’s hips. The white of the fabric of their dress pants blended beautifully against the dark black of Simon’s own. “You own a hawk, do you not?”
“Indeed I do.” Taka had taken to the skies earlier that day, and would not return until he pleased, or until called. The sliding glass door had been left open a crack, should he choose to return early.
“And yet you chose an owl… how quaint.” Nahyuta shifted, further settling themselves against the back of Simon’s thighs. “I don’t suppose there are any other bodily modifications you’ve kept hidden at this time, are there? A secret piercing, perhaps?"
Simon’s smirk was hidden in the pillow he’d been resting his arms against. “None that are safe-for-work. Should you wish to see them, I’m afraid you’ll have to court me first.”
The monk’s own smirk was audible in their voice. “Is that so? Well, if you should choose to show me yours… it’s only right that I show you mine in return."