Standard disclaimer applies.
Title: Tattoo to You Too.
Genre: Humour/Romance.
Rating: G.
Pairing: ShishiTori.
Summary: Choutarou is like the opposite of a newly baked loaf of bread: soft on the outside, badass on the inside.
Tattoo to You Too
- by Reiven
"Are you sure you want to go though this? It's going to be painful and it is permanent. Meaning; it won't ever come off."
"Yes, I'm positively sure," Choutarou smiled his sweet smile sideways at the burly biker man hovering next to him.
"Choutarou," Shishido had a tinge of panic to his voice as he looked at his soft-spoken boyfriend, "You can still change your mind. I mean no one would look down on you."
"Don't worry, Shishido-san," he placed a comforting hand over Shishido's hand and spared him an assuring smile, "I want this."
Gulping, Shishido could only nod. There was nothing that he could do or say to make Choutarou reconsider something once he's made up his mind. Unless he threatened with suicide, of course, but he had no intention of ending his life so soon, especially imagining the smug grin on Hiyoshi and Gakuto's face at his weakness.
"I'm ready, mister," Choutarou relaxed into the chair as he felt the prickle of the needle behind his left shoulder.
Shishido was not someone who would say that he had a particular fond of needles, or anything sharp for that matter. He would not willingly volunteer to be in the vicinity of such objects unless it came with squid balls and sauce, but now, looking at the number one (number two and number three) person he loved most in the world lying there, having chosen to have a mark imprinted into his skin with a sharp object made him feel a little ashamed and inferior. Not that he'd ever admit it. Shishido Ryou was inferior to no one… unless they went by the name Ootori Choutarou.
"Are you all right, Choutan?" he looked worriedly at the creases on the younger boys forehead, "They can stop if you want."
"Don't worry, Shishido-san," he patted him reassuringly on the hand, "Why don't you go and get yourself a drink. I think it's going to be a while."
"No… I'll stay here with you."
"Thank you," Choutarou gave him an appreciative glance.
The seconds ticking away on the clock soon turned to minutes, and the minutes to hours. Before he realized it, Shishido had been sitting there, in the hard plastic chair for almost three hours holding Choutarou's hand. By the end of the one hundred and sixty-seventh minute, Shishido came to the conclusion that if he ever had children, none of them would be allowed to get a tattoo, at least, not when he was present.
The sharp intakes of breath, muffled hisses of pain being emitted by his Choutaro was almost too much for him to take and he had contemplated beating the tattoo man to a senseless pulp for inflicting pain on his boyfriend. He managed to contain himself.
"Almost done kid," the tattoo man spoke in a gruff tone, "I have to admit it, even though you don't look the kind, you're one tough cookie. Why I had a couple of boys just like you a few days ago came in for a tattoo. The short redhead looked just fine though out it all, but his boyfriend, odd, blue-haired person, wimp if I ever saw one, yelped even before the needle came in contact and shot out of the store before one could say 'a kappa's uncle'. The shorty's bitching and complaining could be heard all the way down the street."
Shishido and Choutarou shared a look.
"There," he said finally, pulling back to study the results of his effort, "All done. Just remember to keep it disinfected for the next few days and try and keep pressure off that arm."
"Thank you," Choutarou sat up, swinging his legs over the side and wriggled on his shirt, careful not to peel the bandage off.
"Does it hurt, Choutan?" Shishido asked worriedly.
"Just a little. I'll be fine."
"What about you, kid?"
Shishido realized with a thump in his chest that the man was referring to him, "Me?" he turned around and inquired rather dumbly.
"Yes, no one else here who hasn't gotten one already."
"I don't think that so… I'm not really a tattoo person," Shishido lied, he knew that everyone could see though it, but he didn't care. There was no way he'd be getting a tattoo unless they had to drag his cold, lifeless corpse over to chair. There was absolutely no way!
"I see… you're one of them," the biker guy gave him a peculiar look.
"Yeah… so what if I am," belatedly only did Shishido realize that he'd sounded like a complete moron.
"Don't pick on him," Choutarou said amusedly, circling an arm around Shishido's shoulders, "He came to accompany me today, that is already enough. Come on, Shishido-san," he intertwined his fingers in his sempais' and led him towards the cashier.
Shishido felt himself being pulled back and could do nothing but comply. He felt so humiliated at the moment, being though of as girlfriend to Choutarou. The guy hadn't specifically said it aloud, but that was what his eyes screamed; "Girlfriend, girlfriend."
He could only sigh when Choutarou paid off the amount the tattoo had cost and they made their way down the street, towards the ice-cream shop. Shishido didn't know why, but he felt this overwhelming urge to go and comfort Oshitari. He thought the tensai could use a friend who understood.
The whole tattoo thing would have to be left for a later reconsideration.
He loved Choutarou and would do anything for him… anything, even if it killed him… and this one might just succeed in doing that.
--Owari --
This is quite a plotless story, really. I just had an incredible urge to write about just how badass Choutarou really is and Shishido having --I think Miriallia Haww said it best-- 'the uke complex act up in the presence of a more dominant male'.