Steve has been thinking about getting a tattoo. Since they started dating a few years back, his boyfriend has practically covered his own body in ink. On the couch, when they're cuddled up, he loves tracing Eddie's tattoos, asking about each one, and hearing why they're special to him. He wants something like that, a place on his body to immortalize the most important thing in his life.
"I've been thinking, maybe I should get a tattoo," he says as nonchalantly as possible, as his fingers follow the sweep of each bat.
Below him, Eddie bolts upright, his head almost colliding with Steve's chin. A look of deep concern has overtaken his face as he asks tentatively, "where?"
"Where? What do you mean where? I'd just go to your guy."
"No, where on your body do you want a tattoo?"
"I was thinking..." Steve trailed off. In reality, he hasn't thought it through that far. He doesn't really even have a design in mind, let alone a placement, so he offered his own forearm to Eddie. "Here maybe."
"Oh no, no no no," Eddie insists with a shake of his head, "not there. You can't cover up your best freckles."
"Okay, fine. What about here?" Steve asks, pulling up his shirt to expose his torso, his hand vaguely gesturing to his chest awash in hair.
"Absolutely not! It's not worth the risk."
"The risk? You said tattoos are perfectly safe."
"Yeah, they are. But shaving your chest isn't. What if some of the hair doesn't grow back?" Eddie explains as he runs his fingers through the dark thicket. " That's not a risk I'm willing to let you take, Stevie."
A deep laugh erupts from Steve as he hikes up one leg of his sweatpants. "What about here then?" he inquires, gesturing to his upper thigh, though he knows the answer before Eddie even speaks.
"But my favorite mole is on that thigh, you wouldn't take one of my favorite moles from me, would you?" Eddie's eyes are puppy dog big, as he tilts his head to one side. "And before you even suggest it, my second and third favorite moles are on your other thigh."
They search the rest of his body together, finding a problem with each and every spot, until Eddie announces with great exasperation, "face it, sweetheart, you're already a work of art."
A groan escapes Steve's lips at the cheesy compliment yet he can't help but lean over to kiss his boyfriend, his hands wrapping their way around the creatures creeping up Eddie's neck, until Eddie's lips break from his long enough to say, "unless you want to get a lower back tattoo. I've always thought Michelangelo's David would look even hotter with a tramp stamp. Maybe 'Property of Eddie Munson'?"
"Oh, fuck off!" Steve grumbles as he pushes his boyfriend down onto the couch.
"Don't like that one? We can workshop it," Eddie manages to get out before Steve's lips silence them both.
