Antoine Radson walked briskly down the corridor to his workshop, non-skid shoes squeaking on the linoleum and we went. He kept a pair of work boots in his locker, but preferred to use those in the more industrial sections of the generating station. They were a bit grungy to wear up on the carpeted administration floor.
He'd been finishing up a task he started yesterday, replacing a few valve switches along the fluid lines. It wasn't an urgent matter, a non-critical upgrade his boss had called it. Still, it needed to be done eventually. Yesterday afternoon, after normal business hours was a good time to start. This morning, before the bean counters arrived gave him ample time to finish.
Antoine tugged at the hem of his over shirt. He didn't like the way it wore over his polo shirt, however sometimes long-sleeves were best.
His workshop was on one of the sub-levels of the nuclear plant, the maintenance level. There, in a world lit by artificial lights, he'd tackle projects and divvy tasks between crews as he himself received work orders.
Today would be a rough day. Cleaning and spot checking the hydrology systems. It was always cramped, dusty, and hot. He wasn't looking forward to squirming his way between pipes. At least nothing was scheduled insofar as repairs. He wouldn't have to run a shut-down request through his boss.
Not a shut-down of the reactors, of course. That was a loss of hundreds of thousands per hour. For maintenance, they just rerouted through auxiliary systems, but it still required a mountain of paperwork beforehand. Hopefully everything would check out, and they wouldn't have to tackle that monster.
As he drew closer the sound of some odd indie music wafted down the hall to greet him. It grew louder the closer he got.
Antoine was turning into the doorway when he nearly colliding with DeLaney as the young man scurried out, a tube of schematics under his arm.
"Hey, Antoine!" he greeted, giving his colleague a friendly wave.
Antoine gave a half-salute back. "Hi Laney. Getting started on HydroTwo?"
Laney nodded. "We would've started on One, but they're doing an electronic check up at control, so we'll start that when they're done."
"Sounds good," Antoine replied. "Let me know if anything comes up."
"Will do," Laney agreed. He turned quickly, the cardboard tube lightly grazing against the upper portion of Antoine's left arm.
Antoine gave a snarl and cringed. He reached his right hand up, but couldn't bring himself to touch the spot. "Hey, watch it! I'm still sore from the other day!"
Laney gave a chastised and nervous grin. "Oh jeeze, sorry, Antoine! I forgot!"
"Yeah?" Antoine muttered, right hand hovering protectively over his bicep. "Well, it's an accident, but just be careful, okay."
"Right," Laney agreed. "Oh, by the way, you should know-"
"Later, okay? I'm going to get an ice pack for this. And who changed the radio?" he asked, clearly annoyed. Very few radio stations came through that much concrete. It had taken them all quite some time to find a station everyone agreed on. The Great Channel Truce, and the handshake agreement that no one would change it, or reposition the antenna ever again.
Antoine was readying himself up for a good ranting session, when a woman's voice from the back of the spoke up.
"That would be me, Radson," came the pleasant, if slightly sharp reply from the back.
The workshop was a large room, divided into different sections by tables and storage lockers. There were several standing tools for fabrication if necessary, as well as bays of maintenance equipment ranging from miniature to gigantic. A few shop manuals and technical publications sat under a workbench behind Antoine's desk. Along the back wall was another long bench they rarely used as anything more than a lunch table. Several mismatched rolling chairs were typically parked around it.
Today, the chairs had been pushed aside into a corner by the employee lockers.
The table itself was occupied by a woman Antoine knew all to well, his boss, and the head of Infrastructure: Sharon.
She stood over the table, which was covered with various small machine parts and blades. She'd hauled over an oscilloscope, and set it beside the one of the portable multimeters they shared in the department.
"Oh, hi Sharon. Yeah, whatever music you want, that's cool. What brings you down here?"
"I have this project, and needed the space I don't have in my office. I'm going to be working on it here, since this is my shop and all."
Antoine peered at the assortment, tilting his head. "Whatcha building on, boss?"
Sharon barely raised her eyes. "Nothing that concerns you at the moment, Antoine." She held two small curved pieces of plastic together, squinted at them as if measuring, then set them aside. "What does concern me though is that arm of yours."
"What about my arm?"
"You nearly jumped out of your skin when DeLaney barely touched you."
Antoine curled around his arm protectively, then tried to pretend he wasn't.
"Something that happened yesterday, eh? What did you do to it?"
"Nothing!" Antoine replied, turning his right side towards her. "I'm fine!"
Sharon stretched her arms and twisted her wrists. The result was a series of small crackling sounds. Antoine winced slightly.
"You don't put ice on 'fine,' Radson. That better not be a workplace injury!"
"It's not."
Sharon flexed her fingers. More cracks and pops. "May I see? If I have to deal with one more person this quarter who hasn't filled out an incident report I swear I am going to lose it."
Antoine hesitated. "It's really nothing."
"Please," Sharon prompted, gently but firm. Tone and expression made it clear her request was not option.
With a sigh, Antoine removed his outer shirt. A bit of medical tape and the dressings of a bandage could just be seen at the edge of his sleeve.
"Remember that laceration one of night shift got last month? The one he didn't report that later got infected? And now I'm dealing with our worker's compensation underwriter, local urgent care, and the hassle of who pays his medical bills? That's not happening a second time." She pointed at his bandage. "Arm... Now!"
Antoine whimpered as he unstuck the tape, peeling up an edge of the bandage. Underneath was a layer of clear plastic wrap. Antoine continued to work the top bandage free until Sharon could see what he'd kept covered.
The lines of fresh ink were clearly visible, dark and crisp. Antoine pushed his sleeve and cover up further, revealing a recently tattooed design.
A tribal-themed band encircled his upper arm. Swooping black arcs that resembled thorns, or possibly the movement of ocean waves. At the center of the design, right where his bicep met his deltoid the design was broken by the the outlines of a rearing horse, the top half of which was still covered by his sleeve.
Behind the tribal lines, the design was accented in rainbow-hued swaths using a style known as 'watercoloring.' The background ink appeared translucent against his skin, colors blending easily into one another.
Antoine rubbed his arm, pulled the sleeve back down. "I was gonna get my ear pierced, but then thought it might not be workplace safe. So I went with the ink instead," he explained.
"Mustang?" Sharon asked.
Antoine shook his head. "Rampant unicorn. An old heraldic symbol. Power, force, and instinct, while at the same time faith, healing and success," he explained. "I considered a few other designs, but, well, this just seemed more fitting for me, y'know?"
He paused for a minute, then slid his sleeve up to his shoulder and removed the protective bandage over the clear wrapping. "Here, you might as well see the whole thing."
The unicorn reared up on its hind legs, appearing to break through the armband. Front hooves lashed out, proud and determined. The lines were various widths, giving emphasis to the animal's determined expression. Its mane swirled around its body, tail held high like a banner.
Despite the subject of the design, there was nothing feminine to it.
Sharon pursed her lips in approval. "It does fit you, Radson. I never would've expected it, but you pull it off."
"Thanks," Antoine beamed, patting the bandage back into place on his arm, then pulling his sleeve down. "It took several hours yesterday. The artist said to keep it covered until tomorrow."
"Well, I'm sure he knows best," Sharon agreed. "Now, unless there's anything further keeping you from your job, I'd suggest you get back on task, and I'll return to mine right here." She gestured to the chair.
Antoine bobbed his head vigorously. "Yeah! Definitely. I've got a lot to do today, boss."
Sharon glanced at her watch. "Well, hop to, and you'll get it all done."
"Absolutely!" Antoine capered over to his desk, unlocked the center drawer, and hauled out his day planner.
"I still can't believe you got a tattoo without telling me," Preston said with an eye roll as Antoine changed out of his work shirt.
Antoine shrugged, kicked off his khakis, and reached for a pair of pajama pants on his dresser. "Hey, it's just skin. And I figured if I asked you'r probably have said 'no.'" Antoine stepped into the flannel pants and tied the drawstring in a bow. He considered putting on a tee shirt, then decided against it. He rarely felt cold, and it was nice to get some air against his arm.
"Anyhow," he continued as he ambled into the living room, "I wanted to do something to show solidarity to you. I don't have a ring, not that I'd probably wear one much anyway, and piercing my ear seemed like a good way to get injured at work. I went with this design, because, well, I know what this symbol can represent in your community, and I'm totally okay with that."
Preston sat down in his armchair, and picked up the remote. "Our community, Antoine."
The blue-haired man laughed. "No... well maybe, but nah. I'm not gay. I'm marrying you, but I'm not gay."
He flopped down on the couch and leaned over the armrest towards Preston. "Hey, can I get a tee shirt that says that?"
Preston thumbed through the channels, volume muted. "Says what, Antoine?"
"'I'm not gay, but my husband is.'"
Preston gave an incredulous laugh. "What? No, that would be a horrible idea!"
"Worse than a tribal tattoo with a unicorn?" Antoine draped his head over the armrest and gave Preston the most innocent look he could muster. He gave Preston a poke in the leg.
"Maybe not that bad," Preston replied, pushing Antoine's hand away, trying to keep his expression serious. He gave Antoine a stern look, which was hard considering Antoine's face was upside-down, blue hair falling freely towards the floor.
Their eyes met.
Antoine winked.
"You're not going to do it."
"Do what?" Antoine asked, folding his hands up under his chin.
"Make me laugh," Preston replied. "This is a serious discussion."
Antoine slid even further over the armrest, reaching a hand onto Preston's thigh. "But I'm so cute! You know you want to!"
Preston swallowed down a chuckle. Something about Antoine's utterly feigned innocence and inverted position was starting to get to him. Preston shook his head, tried to look away, found himself drawn back to Antoine's blue eyes. "No," he choked. "It's not happening! I'm actually rather annoyed at you!"
Antoine flipped himself right-side up and batted his eyelashes. "Awww, Preston. C'mon, Preppy! Could you ever be seriously mad at a mug like this?" He pouted his lips, widened his eyes, the epitome of the sad-puppy face. He gave a mewing sound, like a tiny cat.
"No!" Preston shouted, unable to contain himself. He clutched his side and swatted at Antoine's hand. "Dammit Antoine!" he gasped between surges of laughter. "That's not fair! No kitten noises!"
"Mew!" replied Antoine, grinning ear to ear.
"Okay, okay, I give up," panted the thin man, wiping tears from his eyes. "You win, Antoine. Seriously though, next time let me know if you're going to get a tattoo. You know they're not my thing."
Antoine settled himself back into the corner of the couch. He reached out a hand, Preston took it. Antoine gave a loving squeeze. "Don't worry, Prep. I'm not planning on any 'next-time.' I'm only getting married once."
With that, he closed his eyes, and gave a heartfelt sigh of contentment.
"Just you, Prep. Only ever gonna be you."