He knew that the man had a slight obsession. How could someone carry something that big and not be slightly obsessive about it? But now, now he was going to whole new levels of obsession. Strapped to Cid's plane by his belt sort of levels. Clear out into the stratosphere.
Of course he'd come with him. Hell, it'd been his idea, unintentionally.
"Holy fuck!" the man shouted, once the needle can in contact with his skin. He chuckled, since that'd been his first reaction too. And he hadn't been quite as sober as this kid was.
"Hurts like a bitch, huh?" he said, laughing at those wide blue eyes. Ya, he was still pretty sober, even after throwing back a few drinks. Kid had stamina, that was for sure.
"I've felt worse," he replied, gritting his teeth, "but... damn. I don't see how you got yours." He smirked, unconsciously flexing his arm where the tattoo lay. Markings like that were interesting; there was always a story involved.
"'Cause I was a damn foo' like you," he chuckled, "Though, I hafta say yo' tat ain't gonna be pretty, Cloud." The younger man winced again, but laughed at the same. Crazy kid.
"Well, maybe you could tell me about yours," he said, gripping the armrest hard, "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." He sighed. Where to start?
He closed his eyes for a moment and let himself remember.
"I did it 'cause of some damn Wutain robe tha' a girl wanted," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "Had dragons or somthin' on it." How could Cloud be sober, and he entirely... not?
"Hell, Barret," Cloud grinned, "Never pegged you as a romantic." Romantic. Right. And it ended in an entirely violent and stupid way. Romantic stories meant that they ended up happily ever after... or they both died tragic and dramatic ways. Fuck that.
"Never pegged you as foo' enough ta get a tat," he retorted without missing a beat. Push and pull. They really liked pressing each other's buttons. What he liked about the kid; he wasn't afraid to back down from him. Neither was Tifa, but she lacked that... spark.
"What was her name?" he asked, peering over at the bald man whose nimble fingers held the torturous artistic device. Barret frowned. Some things didn't need to be known, some things were better left without a name. But this was Cloud, and for some reason he felt an attachment to the weirdo.
"Myrna."
They were silent. Only the buzzing of the needle informed them that they were alive, awake. They couldn't retreat into themselves this way. Barret was silently glad. He was a little tired of regretting all the time.
"Why a sword fo' a tat?"
He hadn't realized that he'd spoken it, drifting away from a topic that reminded him of how terribly foolish they were. Now all he had to mess with was Cloud's foolishness.
"Because it's me," Cloud said, and chuckled, "I'm a fucking tool." Barret laughed along, ignoring any truth in the matter. It was funny, in that fuzzy alcohol induced hazy sort of way.
When they walked out later, Barret having already inspected the handiwork and Cloud mildly cursing at the sting, they were still laughing. Some cosmic joke they were, and for the moment, that itself was cause enough to be happy.
Tools and regrets... fitting that they should remain on each of their left arms. Remembering wasn't always the best thing... but forgetting was something much worse.
"I wonder what she'd say," Cloud said as they stumbled into the night. Barret shook his head and clapped a large hand on his shoulder.
"I think she'd ask fo' a dragon."
AN: Request from Firefly99, e-friend and forum admin of d00m. Hope you notice the subtext with your OTP... Also of note: Barret's tattoo looks like the head of a dragon to me. and I looked at the official art. So, if you see something else; too bad. Just kidding.