36. ink

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

INK

—

"I have to tell you something."

Guard instantly going up behind Tariq's eyes, he glanced at Dmitri, before saying, "That doesn't sound good."

Dmitri just let out a laugh, taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs in the tattoo parlour and huffing. "Sorry, I shouldn't have started with that. It's good, I promise."

Raising his eyebrows, Tariq looked up from the design he was currently drawing, setting his pen down and letting a small smile grace his lips.

He always did that— focus his attention on one thing only. If he was doing something else, and if Dmitri wanted to talk to him, he would simply cast aside whatever he was doing, and listen to Dmitri.

It was nice. Having people who listened.

"Yeah?" he asked, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he waited for Dmitri to continue.

So, he did by saying, "I got a job."

Tariq just stared at him for a moment, just kept staring until he slowly said, "Dmitri. You have a job."

Another laugh escaped his mouth as he shook his head, eyes involuntarily moving from Tariq's eyes to his lips to his everything, because after his birthday, he hadn't been able to do much of anything around Tariq without the urge to kiss him.

"As in, I got a new job," he explained, the small frown that appeared on Tariq's face enough to make him smile, too. "As a teacher. I got a job as a teacher again."

At once, the frown on Tariq's lips morphed into a giant smile, one that stretched for days. Fuck. Oh my god. Still grinning from ear to ear, he let out a laugh and said, "Are you serious? That's so fucking great, what the fuck? I'm so happy for you, Dmitri. What the fuck? When did this even happen? You didn't tell me shit."

That was completely intended. He had made sure not to tell anyone until he was sure that he had actually gotten the job and that it wasn't just going to be a temporary thing.

Even Eden didn't know yet, and she knew practically everything there was to know about him.

"My bad," he laughed out, the exhilaration from finally telling someone about it enough to make him let out another laugh. But more than exhilaration, it was the realness. It was finally real.

For the first time in almost three months, he had a job that he actually liked.

He liked this job, too. The coffee shop had become so familiar to him over the past few months, and he would be lying if he said that he didn't like the job.

But he also knew that he would be lying if he said that it was a satisfying job.

"So... The previous principal got fired, I think the school board realised that he was a piece of shit." Shrugging, he glanced at Tariq who looked to be listening intently, a tiny smile on his face. He always seemed to have a smile on his face nowadays. "A new principal came in and for some reason, the history teacher quit her job. I got called back, because I'm a fuckin' gem of a teacher. So yeah. I only start after the school's summer vacation, but... It's something."

Tariq grinned. "Fuck yeah, it is. Look at you making big moves," he said as he picked the pen up from the table and continued to draw. "You'll still drop by here each morning, right?"

He was always so attractive when he did his art related shit.

Well, when he did anything, but he was especially attractive when he drew, because his eyes got this faraway look as he imagined up the next thing that he would put to paper, his hands worked so swiftly, and so meticulously, and his tongue automatically stuck out of his mouth when he concentrated on something, and—

"Did you hear me?"

Jolting out of his daze, Dmitri looked up at Tariq, head still swimming with thoughts of Tariq. "Huh?"

Lips twitching almost unnoticeably, Tariq huffed. "I said, will you drop by here every morning? Even though you won't be working here anymore?"

Oh. "Do you want me to drop by here every morning?" Say yes. Please say yes.

Tariq shrugged, most likely in fake nonchalance. "Maybe," he mumbled, not lifting his eyes from the paper in front of him. "Shut up, I don't like you."

Even Dmitri could tell that that was a lie.

But before he could call him out on it, Tariq was speaking again, a bit more hesitant this time when he said, "Hey, Dmitri?"

Tariq was never hesitant.

Shut up, brain. No need to overthink. "Yeah?"

Breathing out a quiet laugh, Tariq just glanced at him for a second, the expression behind his eyes shifting a little, from hesitant to something else entirely. Something that Dmitri had never seen before.

Then, he mumbled, "Would you..." Trailing off, he shook his head as he breathed out another laugh. "You can say no. But, uh— fuck, okay, fuck it. How do you feel about tattoos?"

Heart practically coming to a standstill in his chest, Dmitri paused, eyes reflexively widening.

Tattoos weren't something that he was against. He liked tattoos, loved them. He always had, even when Tariq had hated them. But getting a tattoo done by Tariq?

That was a different story altogether.

Being that close to Tariq, having something done by Tariq on his skin permanently? That was... scary, to say the least.

Still, Dmitri nodded. He nodded because this was Tariq, and he was certain that he wasn't getting rid of Tariq any time soon, and he could already feel the fucking tears forming at the corners of his eyes because he knew just how much tattooing someone meant to Tariq.

He had mentioned it the other day when they had gone out for lunch together. His exact words were:

"If I were to decide one way to show my love for someone for the rest of my life, it would be through my art and my work. I know that that doesn't make much sense, but all the people I genuinely love have some form of my art with them. My parents have a fuck ton of my artwork in their house, most of Zoya's furniture is hand-painted on by me, Trinh's piercings are made and done by me. I think that that's how I express myself. Wild."

So, of course Dmitri was going to say yes.

Even if something were to happen between the two of them, though Dmitri sincerely doubted that anything would happen, he knew that Tariq's art was something that he wanted on his body. Regardless of everything.

"Yeah," he said, voice coming out softer than usual, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah. You can give me a tattoo."

The smile on Tariq's face when he said that was so worth it.

"Fuck yeah!" he cheered, the smile not dropping, not even for a second. "What do you want me to do? You can take your time, actually. Decide what you want, tell me, and I'll—"

"Um—" Dmitri interrupted, earning an eyebrow raise from Tariq. "You can give me whatever you want. Anything, I don't— I mean, I do care, but— I trust you enough to give me a nice tattoo," he stuttered out, blood rushing to his cheeks because holy fuck, he was so embarrassing.

Tariq barked out a laugh, one that turned into a slightly concerned one. Huh. "Are you sure?" he questioned softly. "You can say no, there's no pressure to say yes. You don't have to—"

"Tariq," Dmitri interrupted again. "I've always liked tattoos, I just haven't had the time to get one. Just— when you do give me the tattoo, make sure that it's in a spot that can be covered? Since I'm gonna be teaching soon and everything."

Humming, Tariq nodded, going back to the paper in front of him. "Now shoo," he instructed to Dmitri, fingers hastily sketching something onto the paper. "I'm working on a design."

"Ooh, can I see?"

He always liked showing people his art, Dmitri knew that. Said that it was the one thing that made him feel understood, and he wanted other people to know that and feel that.

God, Dmitri wanted to kiss him so desperately, it was unreal.

"Yeah." Tariq agreed, turning it around to face Dmitri and grinning. Do you like it? I'm supposed to finish it in an hour, and then I can start working on your design."

Dmitri frowned, eyes narrowing at Tariq. "You don't have to work on it right now, you know? Take a break. Do something else. Get up from this chair, because you've been sitting in it all day. Come out with me."

There was no way that tactic would work, because when Tariq worked on something, he worked and worked until he was finished, and at least semi-proud of his finished product.

Letting out a soft laugh, Tariq shook his head. "As much as I would love that," he began, pushing his hair out of his face, revealing bushy eyebrows. Love. Shut the fuck up, brain. "I enjoy doing this, Dmitri. You don't hage to worry about me, I'll stretch my limbs. Come upstairs tomorrow after work, and I'll be ready with your tattoo."

Tariq sounded way too adamant for Dmitri to argue, so he didn't bother trying, just saying, "Tomorrow, then?"

"Mhm. Tomorrow."

—

"Breathe, you look like you're about to pass out."

Dmitri groaned, glancing up at Tariq from the chair he was sitting on, goosebumps erupting all over his body. "Is it normal to be this nervous?"

Shrugging slightly, Tariq rolled his shoulders as he strapped on a pair of gloves, ones that clung to his hands. "Everyone's a little nervous when they get their first tattoo. But I promise, it'll be—" Then, he paused for a moment. "Are you sure you don't want to see the design?" he asked, like he hadn't been asking him that all day.

"I'm sure," Dmitri affirmed. "As long as it doesn't look completely ridiculous. It— it doesn't? Right?"

A smirk broke out on Tariq's face, laughing quietly under his breath. "Dmitri. It's not a ridiculous tattoo, I wouldn't do that to you. It's small, so it shouldn't take too long," he assured, using that fancy swab shit on his upper arm, the one that he refused to give anymore information on.

Then, he was shaving the area, something that Dmitri didn't even know you were supposed to do, before saying, "Did you drink enough water? And eat something?"

"Mhm. Ate dinner with Eden." Then, he added, "Did you?" because Tariq had been working all night the previous night.

"Yeah," was all Tariq said in response, shaking his hands out. "It's good that you ate something."

Yeah.

It was odd, but every time he told someone that he ate something, he always got so proud of himself. Because not eating was the first sign of a depressive episode, the first sign that he wasn't doing as well as he was supposed to be doing.

Knowing that he was doing well enough to eat normally was always a plus.

"Okay, I'm gonna start," Tariq warned, briefly making eye contact with Dmitri. He's so attractive. "Don't move too much, I'll be done in like— two hours. I wanna go slow with you."

That was all he said before bringing the tattoo gun to Dmitri's upper arm and working on it.

For a whole two hours, he worked on it, occassionally checking with Dmitri to see if he was doing okay, and Dmitri just huffing and saying that he was fine, and that if he was uncomfortable, he would tell him.

The only thing that he was uncomfortable about was the fact that Tariq was so close to him, and he couldn't even kiss him.

And finally, by some miracle, Tariq was done.

"Okay, it's done," Tariq announced, a satisfied smile on his face. "Looks pretty cute, if I do say so myself."

Oh god.

A nervous chuckle left Dmitri's mouth, his mind going over all the worst tattoos that Tariq could have given him.

Rationally, he knew that Tariq would never give him a fucking hideous tattoo, he took too much pride in his art too much to do something like that.

Still, this was a tattoo. A permanent mark on his skin, given to him by Tariq.

Holy fuck. "What did you do?"

Tariq laughed, still smiling as he grabbed some sort of jar from the table next to the chair Dmitri was seated on. He wasn't lying when he had said that he wanted to make the place more queer friendly.

Because now, it was so obviously queer friendly, with the fucking pride flag he had painted in one corner, the stacks of stickers that he kept in a corner to give to the people who got tattooed by him, and even the music that was echoing through the room.

In a strange way, it was comforting.

Seeing Tariq be so openly queer and happy about it was something that Dmitri had always wanted to see, and now, he could. And if it wasn't the best sight in the world, he didn't know what was.

"Okay, it's small," Tariq started, his own smile slightly shifting to a nervous one. "And I don't know if this is what you were expecting, but I didn't want to do something too big for a first tattoo. We'll save that for another time. This one isn't..."

Breathing out a sigh, he shook his head. "Rambling, sorry. I'm nervous as fuck, fuck you. Okay, okay, look at it. And tell me if you like it, because if you don't, I can do something about it, so—"

Dmitri chose that moment to take a look at the tattoo, mostly because Tariq's nervousness was making him nervous, and he knew that his own nervousness would make Tariq nervous, and it would be an endless cycle.

Oh my god.

"You gave me a tattoo of a cat?"

Tariq just offered up an even more nervous smile than before. "Do you like it?" he questioned softly, opening the jar to apply some sort of ointment, before covering it with a plastic wrap.

"I love it," Dmitri breathed out, squinting his eyes to look at it more clearly. "You're so talented. I— I love it so much. It's so fucking cute, what the fuck? I—"

"It's just—" Tariq started, the nervousness, anxiousness practically oozing out of his words. "You told me that Juno's gotten you through a lot. And I think that— I don't know. Having something to signify that is cool. I mean, regardless, cats are great and having one tattooed is so fucking cute."

If Tariq had one thing, it was the ability to make Dmitri cry with how real he was with his words.

"Shut up," he mumbled, eyes travelling all around the room, because he was sure that if he looked at Tariq, he would cry.

After a beat of silence, Tariq breathed out a sigh, and with a meek voice, he said, "Are you sure you like it?"

Dmitri smiled. "I love it."

He wasn't sure how long it would take him to say the next words that he wanted to add, but he couldn't do it yet.

Not yet.

—

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AN: i'm stressssedddd as fuck but woooo update :P

hope everyone has/had a good day!! probably gonna go back to bed or sumn now hehe idk i'm tireddd

thank u all for reading!! see u tomorrow🥰