Shorties

“You’re sure about this.”  Blue eyes were studying Axel’s face, a light touch on his chin turning his head from one side to the other.  A thumb came up and brushed one of his cheekbones.

Axel pushed the hand away.  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Blue eyes frowned.  “As a rule, we don’t do facial tattoos to first-timers—”

“And I told you, I already have some tattoos.”  Axel pushed up a sleeve to display the edge of a tribal tattoo that disappeared under the fabric.  “Look, man—”

“Roxas.”

“Roxas.  Right.  If you don’t want to do it, fine.  I’ll just wait ‘til Xigbar gets back and have him do it.”

Roxas crossed his arms.  “No, I’ll do it.”

Axel straightened.  “Good.  Now, right?”

Roxas rolled his eyes.  “Yes, now.  I told you, I don’t have any appointments for a couple hours.”  He tilted his head, indicating for Axel to follow him to one of the smaller rooms past the counter.

Axel draped himself over one of the chairs and watched as Roxas began pulling out his equipment.  Inks, needles—it got familiar after the first few tattoos, but Roxas went about it stiffly, jerking drawers open.

Axel folded his hand behind his head as he waited.  “So how long have you been working at Xigbar’s shop?  I know I’ve been out of town for a while, but I know you weren’t here before I left.”

Roxas shrugged.  “A couple months.”  He fixed his blue eyes on Axel again.  “You know, you can’t talk while I’m doing this.  I don’t want my needle skittering off into your eye.”

He said it so deadpan that Axel had to laugh.  “Yeah, alright Blondie.  Shut my big hole, you got it.”

Roxas frowned as he put a hand on Axel’s jaw, holding his face steady as he marked out guidelines for the tattoos.  “Don’t call me that.”

Axel snorted.  “Knowing Xigbar, he probably calls you that.  Or has he given you a real cute pet name?”

Roxas’s fingers twitched against Axel’s jaw.  “I said don’t talk.  Xigbar knows I hate nick-names.”

“Oh-ho, it’s like that, is it?”  Axel waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Roxas’s hands dropped away as he stepped back.

“If you’re going to sit here and harass me, you can leave.”  His blue eyes had turned icy.

Axel felt his lips tug up in a crooked smile.  “All right, all right.  I’m done.”  He pantomimed zipping his lips shut, and for good measure, locking it and throwing away the key.  Roxas gave him a wary look, but finished the guide marks.

Roxas handed Axel a mirror.  “How’s the placement?”

Axel studied his reflection, touching the edges of the temporary tear marks that Roxas had traced out on his cheeks.  They added something to his appearance, though he couldn’t quite put his finger what it was, but it felt…complete, to have them there. He nodded slowly.  “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Roxas took the mirror back and set it aside.  “I’ll only tell you one more time before I start:  you talk, I fuck up.  And you still have to pay.  Got it?”

Axel raised three fingers up in a salute.  “Scout’s honor!”

Roxas rolled his eyes, but seemed to accept that.  He pulled the room’s other chair close to Axel, giving him instructions until he was satisfied with the position, and then he began.

Axel couldn’t help a wince at the first touch of the needle, but he quickly found that it was easier to watch Roxas work than to think about any pain.  His gloved hands were steady, one guiding the needle, the other braced gently on Axel’s cheek with a cloth, wiping away any blood that welled up.  His face was close, and Axel studied those blue eyes, and Roxas’s golden eyebrows, drawn together in concentration.

They were small tattoos, so it didn’t take long before Roxas moved to the other side, but Axel was pretty sure that it normally took longer to fall in love with someone.  Still, by the time Roxas was pulling his needle away from the second mark, Axel was already mentally rehearsing ways to ask him out.  The furrowed brow was adorable, and the attitude—oh, he would have fun with that.

The mirror again.  “How’s that?”

Axel probably should’ve cared more about the permanent ink on his face, but, he barely spared it a glance, his attention drawn to Roxas. “Yes, that’s it.”

“Okay. You know how to take care of these?”  Roxas gestured at the fresh tattoos, and Axel nodded.

“You know,” Axel began, “I’d like to see your portfolio.  Maybe you could do something a little more complex for me next time.”

Roxas raised his eyebrows.  “It’s in the lobby.  My style’s different from Xigbar’s.”

Axel pursed his lips.  “I have a better idea, if you’re interested.  Maybe…you could show me over coffee?  Or something.”

Roxas gave him a flat look.  “You can look at it in the lobby.”

Axel sighed and looked at the floor.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that’s fine.”  He glanced back up.  “How much do I owe you?”

After Axel paid, he sat down and paged through the book that Roxas gave him, while Roxas did busywork—it had to be busywork, because he was pretty sure Xigbar hadn’t cleaned the top of that counter off in half a decade.

He was halfway through his silent appraisal of Roxas’s work, fingers reverently tracing the lines of a design, when Roxas finally broke the silence between them.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah.  Fine.”  He gestured at the book.  “That’s the store book.  I’ve got another.  I’ll bring it.  Tomorrow.  For coffee.”

Axel broke into a grin, and felt the warmth of his tattoos on his cheeks with the movement.  “Yes!”