Oct. 24, 2013. Fallen Sparrow Tattoo Company, Orlando, FL.
Zac
I was just starting to fall asleep, right in that hazy place where you’re not totally convinced that trio of naked mermaids isn’t really calling you to party with them, when someone knocked on my door. I sat up, blinked a couple times, and wondered if I’d imagined it, but it happened again. Grumbling and cursing early-morning sound-checks, I stomped over to the door and pulled it open.
Well, it could’ve been worse.
“Hey,” I said after a second, a little surprised to see Tay standing outside my door, shuffling his feet and staring at the carpet.
“Hey. Um… can I ask you for a huge favor?”
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
Tay glanced around, and I wondered what favor he could need this late at night. “It’s, um… well, Scott gave me a… a new punishment.”
Of course.
“Oh,” I said simply, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“And I kinda… I kinda need someone to… to go with me.”
“Go where?” I asked, tilting my head. Tay turned a shade of pink and mumbled something under his breath. “Come again?”
“Tattoo. Parlor,” Tay said finally through gritted teeth.
“You’re getting a tattoo??” I practically shouted, but his eyes shot wide open.
“No! I… I’m getting my nipple pierced.”
“Oh.” I blinked, both loving and hating the mental images his words had conjured.
“And I just… kinda didn’t want to go by myself, b-but it’s fine… it’s fine if you don’t wanna go.”
I thought about it for a second; it’d be interesting to say the least, and if nothing else I could probably get a laugh out of watching him scream like a girl. And, there was an idea I’d been toying with for a while now.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll go.”
“Yeah? Thanks.” He smiled, visibly relieved.
“No problem.”
It didn’t take us long to find a place that was up to Tay’s standards. While he filled out the paperwork, I looked around at the pages of flash art hanging on the walls.
“Some of these are pretty neat,” I said off-handedly to Tay.
“Yeah?” He looked up at me, giving me a curious look.
“Mhm. Maybe I should get something while we’re here.” I smiled at the way his eyes widened.
“Like, a tattoo?”
“Why not?”
“You’re not worried what Kate would say?” he asked, eyeing me skeptically; I just shrugged in response. “Then you’re a braver man than I am. Because I’m pretty sure Nat’s gonna kill me for this.”
“I heard if you use white ink it’s invisible.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen those kind of tattoos… you can still sorta see them, though.”
“Maybe an om,” I said, mostly to myself. I glanced over in time to see Tay tilt his head.
“Have you been thinking about this?”
“Maybe…” I grinned sheepishly; the idea had crossed my mind a few times in the past.
“Where do you wanna get it?” He asked, his mouth curling in a tiny grin.
I thought about it for a second, then pointed at the center of my chest. “Right over the heart chakra, I think.”
“Cool,” he said after a moment of thought. I chewed my lip for a second; what did I really have to lose?
“Eh what the hell, why not.” Making up my mind, I went over to the desk to talk to the artist. After a brief description of what I wanted, I came back over to the worn leather couch and sat next to Taylor.
“Looks like I’m up right after you,” I told him.
“‘Kay… you nervous at all?”
“Maybe a little,” I admitted, looking him over. “It’s gonna hurt, right?”
“…Yeah.”
“‘Kay.” I gave a nervous smile, then turned my attention to the magazines scattered on the table in front of us.
“Stupid of me to even ask,” he muttered, and I chuckled. “I practically cried like a baby when I got my ear pierced.”
“That’s because you are a baby,” I teased, rolling my eyes.
“Am not,” he pouted, shoving me.
“Are too,” I replied, shoving him back.
“Are not,” he insisted.
“Couldn’t even handle a little bit of teeth,” I reminded him, lowering my voice.
He huffed, and his cheeks turned red. “That’s different.”
I just giggled; I was glad we could still tease each other about it. Just then the tattoo artist walked through the curtain to one side of the room and motioned to Tay.
“Looks like you’re up. Think you can handle it?” I asked with a smirk.
He huffed again and glanced away, but a moment later turned to me again. “Will you come with me?”
I couldn’t help chuckling, but he glared at me, his expression a little bit threatening, and more than a little sexy. I blinked, and swallowed hard.
“Let me rephrase that,” he said, his lips curling a little. “You’re coming with me.”
“…’Kay.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, the menace already gone. I followed him and the tattoo artist into the side room; Tay was instructed to have a seat and unbutton his shirt; I noticed he’d trimmed the patches of hair scattered across his chest. I smirked as I stood next to him, watching him tremble like a scared baby rabbit. He pouted up at me and motioned for me to stand closer.
“Left or right?” the artist asked; Tay chewed his lip a moment, then turned to me.
“What do you think?”
“Hm, tough choice…” I smirked, stepping closer and trailing a finger over his left nipple. He glared up at me, but the way his body shook told another story. I took the right nipple between my fingers and gave it a pinch.
“This one, I think.”
“O-okay,” he squeaked, and nodded to the piercer. “Right.” He kept his eyes on me as the skin was sterilized and marked. He pouted, holding out his hand; I smiled, taking it in mine and giving it a light squeeze.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“Ready?” the piercer asked.
“Mhm,” Tay whimpered, looking away and squeezing my hand. His grip tightened as the needle went through, and I winced a bit. “Sorry,” he whispered, but I just shrugged.
“Okay, all done,” the piercer said, stepping back.
“See, no problem,” I told him. He looked a little pale, but he nodded. I smirked, touching the small ring, barely tugging on it, and he whimpered. The artist ran down the list of aftercare information with him, then told us to swap places. Tay hopped out of the chair, giving me a weak smile as he buttoned up his shirt. I pulled off my own t-shirt then sat down; Tay stood by me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I couldn’t help grinning; I’d never told anyone, but I’d been thinking of getting a tattoo for a long time. The pain was probably part of it, but it was no secret I’d always been into art, and skin is just another canvas.
“Calm down,” Tay said, giggling a little and rolling his eyes. The tattoo artist showed me the design on a piece of transfer paper, and I nodded.
“Looks great. What do you think, Tay?” He didn’t answer right away, looking at the drawing, and then my chest. I felt a shiver as he looked at me, but mentally pushed it aside.
“I think it’ll look great.”
“Yeah, okay.” It took a few minutes to get the design transferred onto my chest, and to get the tattoo gun prepped. I eyed the machine, starting to feel a little nervous.
“Need me to hold your hand?” Tay teased.
“I got this,” I snapped, sticking my tongue out at him, and he stepped back. The tattoo artist moved into position, reminding me to hold still. I nodded and braced myself. There was no going back now.
Taylor
Zac was right. I am a baby.
I couldn’t even look right at the tattoo gun. I couldn’t even pretend. I bit down on my lip and stared at a point lower on Zac’s chest, wincing whenever the tattoo artist’s movement or Zac’s blood dripping down caught my eye. Of course, Zac had gone into this with such bravado that I doubted he would admit it hurt at all, or if he did, he would just remind me that he liked pain.
When he actually held his hand out to me, fingers grasping at air because I wasn’t standing close enough, I felt just a little bit self-satisfied. Then I stupidly glanced at his chest and saw the bloody outline of the tattoo. Hoping I didn’t lose my lunch all over him, I stepped in and took Zac’s hand in mine. He let out a little whimper and squeezed it, his eyes clamped shut and his brow furrowed.
“You okay, b—Zac?” I asked, just barely catching myself before the term of endearment slipped out. I wasn’t entirely sure how Zac felt about it, although I wasn’t stupid enough to think his feelings were entirely positive, but I knew I couldn’t call him anything like that in public. Even in a tattoo parlor where no one knew who we were.
He glanced up at me, eyes betraying his nervousness, and nodded. “F-fine.”
Such a simple tattoo didn’t take very long to complete in spite of its size–just one color of ink and mostly outline work. It all went by relatively quickly. Before I was prepared for it, because I had enjoyed comforting Zac in what little way I could by just holding his hand, the tattoo artist was standing up and rattling off aftercare directions while he put his equipment away.
I didn’t let go of Zac’s hand, even though there was no reason to keep holding it. Zac didn’t seem to notice. He was completely blissed out, eyes half-shut and a tired, but sated, smile on his face. I didn’t need a verbal reminder that he did, indeed, like pain.
“You’ll probably wanna eat something soon, too,” the tattoo guy interrupted my thoughts, even though I was vaguely aware that he had been talking the entire time. “Recover from the sugar loss.”
“Th-thanks,” Zac replied, his legs wobbling as he tried to stand.
I wrapped an arm around him. “Am I gonna have to carry you back to the hotel?”
“No.” He pouted adorably.
“Okay, okay,” I replied, giggling.
As we leaned on each other and wobbled out into the lobby to pay, I realized that Zac wasn’t the only one who was a little blissed out. The effect wasn’t as strong for me, since I’d had to endure the sight of him being tattooed right after my piercing, but caring for Zac brought on another warm, fuzzy feeling that I liked almost as well.
The cab ride back to the hotel wasn’t memorable enough to penetrate the fog of endorphins surrounding us. I couldn’t speak for Zac, but I didn’t fully descend back to earth until we were comfortably seated on my hotel bed, some old movie on the television and room service spread out all around us.
I glanced over at Zac, one leg under the covers and one above, his shirt off as he leaned back against the headboard. “Can’t believe you got a fucking tattoo.”
He just chuckled and poked the gauze covering it. Immediately, he winced.
“Dumbass,” I remarked. “I’m pretty sure when the guy said not to scratch, he also meant not to poke.”
Zac shrugged, as though the pain of poking it really didn’t bother him. It probably didn’t. “I gotta put some of that stuff on it.”
“Alright,” I replied, noting the fact that he hadn’t moved an inch.
“Hey, Tay?”
“Yeah?” My stomach turned. I had a feeling I knew what his next question would be.
“Can you do it?”
“I… yeah, I guess.” I was right. And he was right to guess that I couldn’t say no. When Zac still made no move except to settle down further into my bed, I asked, “You’re supposed to clean it too, right?”
He blinked. “Oh, yeah.”
“Well, come on,” I said, nudging him and motioning toward the bathroom.
Finally he stood and walked into the bathroom. I followed a few seconds later and discovered him already sitting on the edge of the tub with a grin on his face. “Now. Wash me.”
“You’re gonna pay for this,” I said. “But you’re probably counting on that, aren’t you?”
His grin widened.
“Bitch,” I mumbled, but never the less began to gingerly peel back the gauze on his chest. I could feel my lips turning up in a snarl as the gauze resisted me a little before his tattoo was finally revealed. I eyed it for a moment before saying, “It… it looks good. I mean, it’s gonna look really cool when it heals.”
“Yeah?” Zac asked, then glanced down and scrunched up his nose in disgust.
“What, don’t you like it?” I asked breathlessly. It would be like Zac to get a tattoo on impulse, decide he didn’t like it, and expect me to fix it for him somehow.
“No, I do,” he said. “It’s just all… ick.”
“Yeah. I’m aware.” Still, in spite of the blood crusted over it, I could see that it did look good. It suited him. That didn’t mean I wanted to spend any great deal of time looking at it before it had healed, though. I turned to the sink and lathered my hands up with some soap, hoping that whatever the hotel provided was good enough. Once I was satisfied, I turned back to Zac and gave him a mostly fake glare. “You’re so going to pay for this.”
He just chuckled.
I continued to glare at him even as I rubbed my hands as delicately over the tattoo as possible. I tried to remind myself that I had nursed nastier wounds than this on my children. That thought did little to reassure me, especially when Zac winced.
“Shit,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
He gritted his teeth. “It’s okay.”
“It’s gotta be cleaned,” I said, making a concerted effort to rub as softly as humanly possible. “I’m really trying to be gentle.”
To my surprise, Zac moaned.
“Is… is that good?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Okay…” I tried to duplicate those motions, my touch as feather light as my big clumsy hands could manage. Zac moaned again and I let out a little sigh before asking, “How long had you been thinking about getting this done?”
“A while,” he whimpered.
“Yeah?” I asked, surprised. It had seemed so spur of the moment.
“Mhm,” Zac replied. “F-few years.”
“Wow. You never said anything.” Then again, how much went on in his mind that he never said anything about? I had known about his yoga classes and his passing interest in Eastern religions—something his devoted Orthodox wife was less than thrilled about—but like every philosophy he’d read up on over the years, I thought this was just another academic pursuit, just another whim. Apparently not.
Zac just shrugged, as if my surprise was unwarranted. “Wasn’t really serious about it. Not ‘til… ‘til recently.”
“What changed?” The question fell out of my mouth before I could stop to think. The answer was already in me—the answer was me, I supposed.
He blushed. “Wasn’t scared of the pain.”
“Oh,” I replied, feeling my own cheeks heating up. Maybe it wasn’t me, exactly, but I’d certainly had a role to play in it. I paused for a moment, then eyed the tattoo more closely than I had before. It was still red and irritated, but most of the blood had flaked off easily. “I guess it’s, umm, clean enough now.”
Zac glanced down and nodded, apparently pleased with my work.
I rinsed my hands off, then wet a hotel washcloth. Taking my seat in front of Zac again, I patted his flesh as carefully as possible. I had vaguely registered the tattoo artist instructing him not to scrub it, so I applied only the lightest touch, dabbing at what blood remained.
“Feels good,” Zac sighed out, swaying a little.
“Yeah?” I asked. I supposed the cool water probably did feel good on his heated flesh.
“Mhm,” he replied.
I made a few more passes over the tattoo, but it seemed as clean as possible now, devoid of both blood and soap bubbles. I almost hated to stop. With a little sigh, I stood up and traded out the damp washcloth for a dry one.
Sitting back down, I dabbed at his flesh gently. The tattoo really did look good. I couldn’t deny that. I also couldn’t stop myself from asking the next question that popped into my head. “So, any idea how the hell we’re gonna explain our sudden body modifications to our wives?”
Zac
I chuckled at first, but my smile fell when I thought about it. It was a legitimate concern for Taylor, but for me, not so much.
“I won’t have to worry about that,” I said quietly. “Kate never sees me shirtless.”
“She… what?” Tay turned to me, a puzzled expression on his face, but I just shrugged.
“She doesn’t like to look at me without my shirt. Says if I’m not gonna lose weight, I should keep covered.”
“That fucking bitch,” Tay said, his voice practically a growl. I looked at him for a moment, eyes wide; I’d known he wouldn’t like hearing it, but I hadn’t expected such an… aggressive response.
“I know I’m kinda pudgy,” I said, looking down and shrugging. “Even Scott said so.”
“Yeah well, Scott’s a dick like that. He was just trying to get under your skin.”
Again I looked up at him, surprised to hear him badmouth his lover.
“What?” Tay said, probably in response to my stare. “I know he’s a dick.”
“He’s not wrong, though,” I said, pouting and poking at my belly. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to lose weight.”
“Zac. Shut up. Scott was being a dick, your wife is a superficial bitch, and you are beautiful, whether you lose weight or not.”
I blinked. I couldn’t have heard him right. “W-what?”
“You’re beautiful, Zac,” he said again, quietly. “And if you tell me you’re not, or that I’m the only person who’s ever told you that, I’m probably gonna cry. And we don’t need that, okay?”
His words hurt, but in a bittersweet way. No, he wasn’t the only person who’d said it, but he was the only one who maybe, just maybe, I could actually believe. I felt my eyes watering as I looked up at him.
“And we don’t need you crying either, damn it,” he added, pouting. I looked down, but I could feel my lip shaking. “Come on,” he said, touching my cheek. “I gotta finish getting you all cleaned up.”
“You… you really think I’m…”
“Of course I do,” he insisted, frowning. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Zac.”
“I’m sorry. About… what I said.”
“What?”
I took a deep, shaky breath. I didn’t even like remembering what I’d said, how stupid I’d acted, but he deserved an apology.
“About wanting you to… to lie. About…” I sighed again, unable to say the words.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t… I wasn’t even thinking about that. But just… believe me when I say you’re beautiful, okay?”
I looked down and nodded; I sniffled, willing myself not to cry. I felt so stupid, so… childish. But suddenly my chin was being lifted, and he was kissing me gently. I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity, so I kissed him back, but it was over far too soon.
“Okay, um…” Tay stammered, his cheeks red. “I still gotta, like… put that stuff on your tattoo.”
I nodded, and sat back as he applied the cool gel to my chest. I shivered, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.
“Is that okay?” he asked softly, and I nodded. “You know I’m not gonna do this for you every time, right?”
“Aww,” I pouted, but smirked.
“You can handle it yourself,” he said, rolling his eyes, and I giggled.
“But it’s so much better when you do it.”
“Yeah, well, what isn’t?” He shot back with a smirk of his own. We both giggled, and he gently patted the now coated tattoo. “Okay, there you go. I guess I should put a fresh bandage on…”
“Eh, just leave it for a while,” I said, looking down. The cool air felt good, and the tattoo artist had said to let it breathe.
“Alright.”
I looked up at him, smirking. We were in such a good mood, and he had already kissed me once… maybe I’d earned a treat.
“What?” he said, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, I’ve been following your rules. And I’ve been really good.”
“Have you?” he asked, an amused tone to his voice.
“Mhm.”
“Well, you’ve been good today, at least. You’ve still got a few punishments coming, though.”
“But I’ve been good, honest!” I pouted; it’d been hard, but I’d done my best to behave. “I’ve only jacked off once a week, and I…” I paused, blushing.
“And you what?”
“I haven’t even fingered myself,” I said, looking down.
“Well, good for you. Considering I forgot to tell you that, actually.”
“Kinda just assumed it went along with the no toy thing. But see? I still followed it anyway.”
“Good for you. But… I seem to recall you forgetting which of us was the Dom.”
I blinked. I’d honestly almost forgotten about that, and hoped he had, too.
“You… you liked it, though.”
“Th-that’s not the point. I might be a sub, but I’m Scott’s sub, not yours.”
“I know,” I sighed, my mood plummeting.
“I’m sorry, Zac. But you know the rules.”
“Yeah, yeah… At least I still get something out of it,” I added with a smirk.
“Yeah, well. We’ll see about that.” He stood up then, and held his hand out. “Come on, I’m tired. Let’s lay down.”
It wasn’t what I wanted exactly, but I’d take what I could get. I took his hand and followed him back to the bedroom. He lay down and I curled up next to him, my back to his front. I guess I rubbed his piercing, because he whimpered a bit as he draped his arm over my waist.
“Sorry,” I chuckled, scooting forward a bit.”
“I’m fine. It’s just this piece of metal in my nipple, ya know. Still can’t believe I got my fucking nipple pierced, and you got a tattoo.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Good times, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he chuckled.
“Hey Tay?” I said quietly? Sleep was already pulling me down, the high of the evening fading away.
“Yeah?”
“Loveyou,” I murmured, consciousness slipping.
“Love you too,” he said softly, pulling me tighter, then wincing. I smiled as I fell asleep, being held by the one I loved.