Tatovering
"I'm regretting this already," Timo moans, placing his head on one of his husband's shoulders. Berwald wraps an arm about the smaller man, pulling him close. His hand runs up and down his body, soothing him.
"You'll be fine," the Swede says. "It's not that bad."
"Says the man with the most here," Lukas points out from Berwald's other side. In an attempt to goad on the stoic man the Norwegian adds, "In some pretty intimate locations."
"You would know," Berwald replies flatly. Timo sighs inwardly, having made peace that whatever there was between those two is now a part of his complicated life and the banter they share.
"Come on now!" Christen says brightly, slapping Timo on a shoulder before sitting beside him. "This is something we'll have forever!"
"Like each other," Berwald concedes.
"A part of you," Lukas adds.
"Making the bond visible," Emil pipes in from somewhere besides his brother.
Timo only moans again. "What will Peter say?" That has his husband snickering quietly.
When their turn comes Lukas explains what they all want, that they should match but that they don't all have to be in the same places.
"So," the man says once the Norwegian has approved of the design, "who's first?"
Timo swallows, hard. He's nervous to say the least, squeezing Berwald's hand way too tightly. There's a moment's pause before his lover says, "Me."
"Be," he groans as his lover starts to follow the man, the other Nords trailing behind, "are you sure about this?" It's not that he doesn't trust Berwald; it's just that Timo's never been here when he's done this, and it's so… so… permanent.
The larger nation kisses his forehead before sitting, pulling his shirt off. Behind him Timo hears Christen speaking with another man, being led to another chair. Lukas and Emil thankfully follow the Dane.
"You're the unsteady one then?" the artist asks as he sits, gesturing towards Timo who can only nod.
"This is his first one," Berwald explains, making himself comfortable. Just behind them Christen too has removed his shirt, discussing where he wants his.
"Which number for you?" the artists asks of the Swede, taking him in.
"Five."
In the bright light of the parlor Timo can only see two of Berwald's tattoos: the oldest tattoo is the dark blue one on the back of his right shoulder, an intricate knot design reminiscent of the art in Scandinavia a millennia earlier; the other, visible when Berwald lays back, is the word »víkingr» in Old Norse on the inside of his lower left arm. Timo knows it's a tattoo identical on both Lukas and Christen, who also have knot designs somewhere on their bodies.
Blinking Timo realizes that both Berwald and the tattoo artist are looking at him. "Sorry," he squirms; his husband smiles faintly.
"Asked where you want this one, since you'll be the one seeing it the most. Your call."
In the distance Christen's already getting prepped. All of his tattoos are visible: the word Viking, the knots around his left arm, his name across his left pec, and that »DN» that Lukas and Emil both have as well. Something they share, those three, to remind them of the union they once had. Just like the Viking tattoos or knot designs for the eldest three.
"Um," Timo starts, taking in his husband's beautiful chest. Part of him feels guilty for blemishing such a work of art, but he makes up his mind, pointing at Berwald's left pec. "Here. I think. I like here." Satisfied, his husband smiles.
"I like there too."
He's pretty sure it's harder for him than for Berwald, who calmly speaks with the artist as his tattoo is inked. Timo is holding one of his hands, which gets an occasional squeeze from the Swede, but more often than not is a squeeze from the Finn.
"Where are your other ones?" the man asks Berwald nonchalantly, referring to the two tattoos not visible.
"Intimate," he says, and both men pause to nod, snickering in understanding. Timo can only shake his head.
The tattoo he likes most is just hidden by Berwald's pants, the word »Suomi» tattooed so low down on the Swedish torso. It's an old tattoo, from before Timo left for Russia, one to make Timo feel better about Finland being a part of Sweden. And he does love it, the word only visible for others when they go to the beach, or when Berwald stretches, or in the sauna. But Timo sees it every night as his hands and lips trail down that magnificent man's body….
In the other chair Christen is already done, Lukas now pulling off his shirt. There's the word Viking, and the knot tattoo, the matching "DN", and one more Timo can't see. But the Finn knows it's there, though he's never seen it personally; he could tell you exactly where it is on the Norwegian's left thigh, because it's in the same place as Berwald's, the same word: »svorsk». That's the newest of Berwald's tattoos, from just before the two countries were split. And Timo's gotten better at ignoring it, the constant reminder that another had settled between those Swedish thighs, had made love to his Swedish love, but it's still there.
The visible bond.
Permanent.
This was a mistake.
He's the only one who doesn't have a tattoo, Timo, because Berwald always sheltered him and Timo was always squeamish.
So squeamish.
So very, very squeamish.
This was such a mistake.
"Relax," Berwald sighs, slightly irritated. The Finn blinks a couple of times before looking at him sheepishly. "This is why I said you should bring a book."
"Who brings a book to a tattoo parlor?" Timo tries to joke, but his voice is too high pitched and it cracks once. The man tattooing his husband snorts as sea-green eyes look at him with a seeming mixture of constant confusion and resignation that the Finn will be like this the whole day.
Lukas and Christen are comparing where there's are, Emil getting his done, when Timo finally calms down enough to trade places with Berwald.
"You'll be fine," the Swede says for what must have been the thousandth time today. "You don't have to do this," he concedes this time though as he sits in what had been his wife's seat.
Timo looks straight ahead and makes up his mind. "Yes I do." He nods once before cringing.
"What?" Berwald sighs.
"How am I going to explain this to Peter?"
"So," the man with the needle says, "where do you want yours?" Too shocked to respond, Timo looks to Berwald who smiles weakly.
"Come here." Scooting closer the smaller nation's shirt is pulled over his head, his husband turning him to lay on his stomach. Swedish fingers press into his lower back, off to his left side. It's a bit squishy there, his body so unlike the other completely lean Nords. "I'd like it here. That ok for you Timo?"
"Yeah," he agrees instinctively, because in moments like these whatever Berwald says is fine by him. "Whatever you want. I picked yours; you pick mine."
"Here then," he says to the man, moving around him.
His heart is beginning to race when a chair scrapes the floor, Berwald sitting right before Timo's head and taking both of his hands in his. The romantic Swede kisses each hand slowly before smiling and whispering, "You'll be fine Timo, I promise."
"I know," he stutters.
A hand strokes one of his cheeks. "I am sad to see your unblemished skin being marked, but we are all equal now."
And that, Timo thinks, is probably the best thing anyone could have said to him. He is by far the most innocent of the Nords in some ways, and being the last one to get a tattoo had had him feeling like an outsider leading up to today. It had been Emil's suggestion, when Christen was once again irritated that Berwald and Lukas had matching tattoos. They all had different tattoos marking different unions, but none marking them all as being special, separate but connected in ways they could never escape.
The Finn has his wedding ring with Berwald, and they have their son too, but this is something for the five Nordic nations. Together. He could do this.
"Ready?" the man asks.
"Ready," Timo says confidently. That makes Berwald smile wide.
It's hard to see it in the mirror, Timo being the only one who got his on his back. Berwald and Christen's are both on their chest, proud across the largest men's torsos. Lukas and Emil have theirs down their sides, inverted but matching. Timo kind of wishes his had been in a cooler place.
But then two arms wrap around his hips, and his hands instinctively go to his husband's chest. "See?" Berwald asks.
"No," Timo chuckles. "What am I looking at?"
"You always put your hands here," he whispers, gesturing to where his hands are on Berwald's chest; the one is covering the tattoo. "And I always put my hands here." He gives a squeeze and Timo looks over his shoulder to look at those two hands on his lower back, one of Berwald's covering his tattoos.
"Lame!" Christen coughs before the brothers both hit him.
"I like it," Timo concedes finally, satisfied now.
"Ready for your next one?" the Dane jokes as Emil passes out their shirts, the five Nords beginning to dress again.
"Oh no," the Finn responds quickly. "I'll settle with my »Norden» tattoo for this century, thank you."