WHILE THE IRON IS HOT
You, Rafayel's bodyguard, ask if you can commission him to sketch your next tattoo.
Based on this post. Can also be found on AO3 :)
Tags: gender neutral reader, getting closer (professionally as well as casually), reader is NOT an artist, rafayel is NOT a numbers guy, bickering, close proximity, lots of eye contact
Kindly read under the cut!
They say, āStrike when the iron is hot.ā
The mantra repeats excessively in your mind as you watch over Rafayel, the person who employed you as his bodyguard. Because the current chances of Wanderers attacking the Mo Art Studio is low (never zero), you give your mind permission to wander. A little. Just a little.
Your mind wanders as far as a few weeks ago: the request at the tip of your tongue. That will later be inked to your skin.
As they say, āStrike while the iron is hot.ā Youāre standing a few feet away from a brilliant artist. This is your chance.
You cough. āExcuse me.ā Ā
āI have a name,ā Rafayel says, as he brushes past you to rummage through his box of tools. He takes out a scraper.
āRight. Rafayel?ā Ā
āWhatās up?ā He returns to his stool.
āI have a question, and please indulge me: what do you think about doing commissions?ā
āCommissions?ā Rafayel repeats, as he scrapes the dried pigment off the canvas. āLike, other people paying me to paint for them?ā
āYes.āĀ
Rafayel raises an eyebrow at you for a split-second before returning his attention back on the painting. He calculates a precise location before scraping again. āIn your dreams. I donāt paint for anyone. I donāt even speed up my painting process for Thomas, even if he asked.ā
āEven if it will earn you extra income?ā
āAnd extra work! I already work hard enough to finish original pieces as they are.ā
You nod and remember the instances of him submitting a painting late. āTrue. I suppose that your original works already earn enough to support you. . . and Thomas, ācause you pay him,ā and me, as your bodyguard, you add as an afterthought. Wait, does he even pay me?
(You make a mental note to clarify that later; you have a more pressing concern right now.)
Slowly, Rafayel puts down his scraper and turns towards you. āYou want me to paint something for you, is that it?ā
āHm.ā You try to be vague. āNo, I was just curious.ā
āNo, youāre not ājust curious.ā Thereās a follow-up question to it; I know.ā
Silence hangs in the air as the two of you exchange a prolonged and loaded eye contact. Your breath hitches at the full attention. His pupils glance at your throat before looking back at your eyes.
Y/N, I know, his gaze seems to say.
Your steady look asks: You know?
With a nod, Rafayelās expectant gaze answers, Try me.
Weāre going off topic, Rafayel. Ā
āHa! You blinked first!ā He exclaims in victory then raises a hand as if to stop you from opening your mouth. āYes, Y/N, I know a staring contest wasnāt what we were doing. But I know you have a follow-up question.ā
āI do, but I was planning to take this slow. I know we haveā¦ā you gesture to the space between the two of you, āprofessional boundaries. Iām not in the position to ask for commission requests yet. Itās not even open.ā
āSo considerate,ā Rafayel teases, but his gaze on you softens. āThatās cute.ā
āStill, right?ā
His ears flush pink, like he canāt believe what just happened. In a snap, he changes back to his usual self and touches his ear. āJust shoot your shot. Time will pass whether you ask me now or later.ā
āMy follow-up question was about if I can avail your services for an art commission. You can just draw; no colors. Iāll pay. Whatās your price?ā
āAssuring me straight up that youāll pay? I like that in a customer!ā
āWeāre going off topic, Rafayel.ā Ā
āHey! Whatās with the accusatory tone?ā He says as he rubs his ears. The pink turns to red. āYouāre no different. You went on a roundabout way just to ask me for a piece! You can just say,ā he straightens his postureāhighly reminiscent of your current posture that was earned from your job as a hunterāand imitates your tone, āāHey, Raf, can you make this for me? Iāll pay!ā Simple. Done.ā
You break character and scoff. He chuckles at your reaction.
āYes, but that was more of an opening rather than āoff-topic.ā Iād rather know if you accept commissions or not before I ask you.ā
āWhy?ā
āItās polite.ā
You bite back a grin when he makes a face. He apparently notices the way you hold back a smileāhe glances at your mouth once and his ears turn red. Again. Redder than that dried pigment heās been scraping off. āWhatever. I can be polite.ā
āIām not saying you arenāt.ā
āIt was implied,ā he whined.
You adjust your expression back to a more neutral and respectful one to stay on track of the topic.
āSo, how much will a sketch cost?ā
āHmm,ā he looks at the ceiling and puts a finger under his jaw, which stains his skin with color. He seems too used to it to bother reacting. āGiven that Iāve earned my spot in the industry, it would be, I donāt know. . . a lot?ā
āRight. Do you have an exact amount?ā
āOh, cutie, I gotta be honest with youā¦ā Eyes on the canvas, Rafayel scrunches his face with some hard-to-decipher smile. He picks up his scraper and scrapes off a small piece of dried pigment in the corner of the piece. A huge chunk of dried powder falls out. Yikes. āI donāt really know much about the numbers aspect. Will you bother Thomas with a hypothetical question? Donāt tell him Iām considering to give you a commission! I donāt wanna deal with his lectures.ā
You make a mental note.
āSure. I will do that. Do you want me to pay you directly? Since I imagine the price will be a lot, I can pay you in installments, if you accept.ā
āWow,ā he drawls, tone impressed, āYou thought this through.ā
āMm. Iām serious about this.ā
Rafayelās adamās apple moves as he fixes his gaze at the canvas with intensity. āIāll decide depending on the drawing. What do you want me to sketch?ā
You imagine your budget, yet again. āDepends on the price.ā
āY/N,ā he drawls. āWeāre going in circles! Off-topic!ā
āI was hoping you would sketch a tattoo for me.ā
At that, Rafayel whips his head towards you so fast. The crack of his neck is loud enough for you to feel bad.
āWhat?ā He asks, voice hoarse.
āIs your neck OKāā
āForāforget my neck. Off-topic,ā he repeats, with his eyes almost teary on you. āRepeat what you said.ā
āA tattoo. Just a small one. Under my ear.ā At his stunned silence, you continue, āWell, itās not every day that I can talk to a talented artist. Iām taking my chances and Iāll pay you, I promise. If Iām unable to pay it in full, then you can take money off my salaāā
āYouāyou want me to draw a tattoo?ā
āYes. For me.ā
āIāll draw it? Are you sure?ā he almost chokes on his words.
āYes, it would be an honor.ā
āāAn honorāāoh my god. No, it would be an honor to me. Not to you, to me.ā Rafayel fans himself with his collar. āWhaāwhatāwhat kind of tattoo?ā
āI was thinking of a sunset.ā You feel a little unprepared at Rafayelās reaction. His eyes are wide and mouth agape. No amount of spotlight could top the nerve-wracking feeling of someoneās full attention on you. āLike⦠I donāt know how that would look good, but⦠preferably, uh, you know those sketches that are made in a continuous line? Like that?ā
āYes.ā
āYes,ā you repeat. āDoes that look good? Any professional, artistic opinion?ā
āWhatever you want,ā his voice cracks again. You wince. āItās a tattoo, silly. Itās supposed to be personal.ā
āThe mere subject is personal. I donāt mind much about the artistic style it takes to get inked on me, as long as it fits the way I look.ā
āOn your neck, huhā¦ā he mutters. āIāll help. Letās make it perfect.ā
A pause. Rafayel stands up from his stool and tears off a piece of paper from a sketchbook. āUh, you might want to sketch what was in your mind. Then I will modify it, if youāre unsatisfied with what you made.ā
āI just said I donāt mind abāā
āA tattoo is personal. You should draw and Iāll check.ā
You wave your hands away from the paper. āAh, no! I already tried. Iām bad at drawing. That is why I need your help.ā
Rafayel avoids your gaze and leaves the paper on the stool. āOK, um, Iāll be back. Let me wash my hands firstāā
āYou donāt have to do it nowāā you say, but the man is already brushing past you to wash his pigment-stained hands (and face). He belatedly locks the bathroom door behind him, and you can hear muffled screams from where you are standing.
Whatās up with him? You wonder. Is this what happens when you strike a hot iron? You didnāt think you would go this far.
_
Rafayel returns as if you didnāt hear his muffled screaming. āWhoās gonna do your tattoo?ā
āI found a tattoo shop at Linkon city. They said weāre allowed to bring designs of our own.ā
He shifts his weight onto one foot and crosses his arms. āAnd you think they can imitate my genius?ā
āI hope they can,ā you indulge him a compliment. His ears flush pinkāyou can see it with the short distance between the two of you.
āHow much is it?ā You ask again. āHey, does asking for your opinion have a price?ā
āGeez. Why do you keep asking me about money and prices? I literally said Iām not a numbers guy. Donāt go back to the circle, Y/N.ā He widens his eyes at you.
āI donāt know; you might be similar to a legal counselor. Donāt they charge clients per session?ā
āWeāre going off-topic, Y/N,ā he says in exasperation. āI donāt know about other artists, but Iām not charging you for asking. Actually, you know what? Pay me with a favor instead. Donāt ask Thomas about a price! Youāre commissioning me with a favor!ā
The mental note in your head falls down like a ripped-out post-it. āOh, OK! Thanks?ā
āAnd no, my opinion is for free. You might never ask me for it again if I said it costs something.ā
You shrug. āPossibly.ā
āSo letāsāā Rafayel looks around the room. āSit down. Your legs must ache from standing all afternoon.ā
You sit down on the couch he gestures to. Itās a little relieving on the leg area. Meanwhile, Rafayel tugs his collar with a nervous swallow as he sits next to you. In his hands are two pencils and an eraser shaped like an octopus.
āSo, sunset?ā He asks awkwardly.
You look at his eyes and smile. āYes. Sunset.ā
āOK. Sunset.ā
āUh-huh. Sunset. Should I get the paper you ripped earlier? And the sketchbook so it can be on top of something?ā You say with hands already outstretched.
āSo chivalrous,ā he teases, but the frown on his face makes the teasing come off as awkward. You playfully scoff to avoid embarrassing him. āYes. Please start.ā
With the paper and sketchbook on your lap, you draw the first line.
The second. The third.
Then regret it.
āYikes.ā
āHm?ā
When you look at Rafayel, he no longer looks flustered. Replacing his awkward eyes is an intense, focused gaze. You instinctively cover the ādrawingā with your palm, but Rafayelās warm fingers pulls it back.
āThis will be my tattoo.ā You try to avoid feeling awkward.
He studies the drawing for a few beats. Then intently at your neck.
āPress your ear like this. I want to see the space where this will go.ā
Awkwardly, you turn your head and press your ear forward to fold it.
āIs it this ear?ā
āYes.ā
āPortrait?ā
āYes, portrait. I want it to be visible.ā
You hold the pose for a few more seconds. Rafayelās silence is making you feel more and more flustered. He exhales, mind in mid-thought.
āWhat do you think? As an artist?ā
āI wonāt answer that,ā he says earnestly, ābut do you want me to change it?ā
āPlease,ā you whisper. āI mean, thatās what the entire conversation earlier was about, anyway. A talented artist to draw my tattoo. Hopefully.ā
āIāll make a few suggestions.ā
Rafayel does not take the paper on the sketchbook away from your lap. Instead, he uses the second pencil and draws on it.
This is weird.
The warmness that radiates from himāfrom his close proximity with youāfeels quite comforting. You suddenly remember the mattress of the bed when you used to live with Grandma. It just⦠it felt nice. You feel your upper body lose its tension.
Plus, you can see the violet strands of his hair up close. Itās a pretty color. Maybe violet will be your favorite color, from now on.
āHere, check this outāā
You snap out of your thoughts, but you do not make it obvious.
Rafayel created two sample tattoos, following at least two of the three lines you drew. It seems like the base for his modification drawings.
āWhat do you think?ā
Your heart starts thumping in your chest like a lion in its cage. Thereās a⦠thereās a rush of excitement in your stomach and in your throat. This is pretty. This is genius. Rafayel is able to turn something amateur into something great and you canāt help but be amazed. āThatās infinitely better, wow!ā
āAre you sure? We can do better than that. I mean, this oneās stroke is out of lineā¦ā
āSure, but these are pretty as they are! I must owe you a huge favor for this ācommission,ā right?ā
Something changes in Rafayelās eyes. He looks a little sheepish. āActually.ā
āYes?ā
āI know what favor to ask of you now.ā
āTell me. Strike while the ironās hot,ā strike while weāre on the topic!
āHow open are you to having me as your tattoo artist?ā

















