Ahhh! I’m nervous to press POST because it’s my first PUBLISHED fic, but for you, Yikes…I’ll do all the things! x) Since I know what happens in the story…I probably think it’s great, and this is actually a disaster xD I had SOOO much fun writing this fic, however, because I really like the AU topic, and I instantly got WAAAY too many ideas…I looked up DRABBLE on the interwebs…turns out a drabble is supposed to showcase your creativity and ability to convey a good story in 100 words…This fic LEFT that category extremely early in the game (I ended with 2,903 words xD)…so I guess I’m not a creative writer, and I apologise xD But then again not really because I REALLY do love this story idea :) My soup mate, I hope you enjoy this LONG ficlet as much as I do xD It’s cluttered with personal headcanons we’ve spoken about :’)(And if anyone else would like to send me a prompt, here be the list)

This story is AU 2: Flower shop & Tattoo shop AUwith lines 1: “I never expected to meet you here.” + 7: “You’re too distracting with your handsome face and… your… everything!”

Here we go! (Under the cut, I think? First time doing this xD)

Steve stands outside of…Atomic Midnight Tattoos…preparing for his demise. He breathes in, then out, and opens the door of the parlour. As he walks inside, he is greeted with a smile by a lady that looks suspiciously like Connie Marble. “Hi, welcome in! Do you have an appointment with one of our artists?” Steve reaches the counter and says “I-I don’t, sorry.” He’s never been to a tattoo parlour before. He doesn’t know the procedures; he’s only aware of the pain factor from stories his friends have shared. “No need to apologise, it’s alright. I’ll ask and see if any of our artists have free time for a flash tattoo appointment. Be right back.”

Steve waits for a second, looking around the parlour with it’s red on (darker) red damask wallpaper, and the wooden baseboards and door frames painted black. He admires the chrome chandelier above him and especially loves the exotic plants decorating some corners of the shop. When “Connie” returns, Steve stops his prying and gives her a hopeful look.

“Hurricane Bill isn’t busy at the moment. Would you like to see examples of his work? Or just book now..?”

Hurricane Bill? What kind of fucking name is that? “No, it’s alright. We can just book now. It’s…it’s not a big deal of a tattoo, so I’m sure Bill’s skills will do.” He hates that the last part rhymed a little.

The lady in red chuckles behind her hand and tells Steve to fill out a release form while his tattoo artist prepares and sets up his work station.

As Steve returns the release form, he hears the sound of rubber soles approaching on his left.

“Harrington?” 

Steve turns quickly to see the owner of the boots, and time suddenly stops. 

“Billy?!”

A chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s me…don’t cream your pants.” Billy winks at Steve.

“Oh god…” Steve’s face flushes and he covers it with his pale hands.

“What are you doing here?” (‘Connie’ leaves to the back, giving these two idiots some space.)

“Well…what do you think?” One hand remains on Steve’s face.

“I never expected to meet you here…”

“What? I can’t get a tattoo?”

“No, I mean I never expected to see you in CALIFORNIA.” Billy holds his arms across his chest.

“Oh…well Robin and I just opened business here and-”

“Woah! Wait, wait…come into my room and you can tell me all about it while I sketch, yeah?”

And so Billy leads Steve into his “studio” and closes the door behind them. Billy gestures for Steve to sit on the dentist-looking chair, and Billy takes a seat on a rolling chair next to him, quickly fetching for his sketchbook. The room is small, but looks efficient and organised. There’s many drawers; hygienic products and ink on some shelves; a sink; a few photos framed over the eggplant painted walls; and some potted succulents scattered here and there. There’s also a small bookcase that catches Steve’s eye, and a fancy lamp on one of the corners.

“So, what are you looking to get tattooed today?” Billy grabs a pencil from his desk.

“Well…” Steve starts nervously. “I kind of lost a bet and-” 

“Oh no.” Billy lowers the sketchpad to his lap.

A beat.

“I have to get ‘DINGUS’ tattooed and…” Steve trails off, a shade redder than he was before.

“Like…the word DINGUS…on your dingus?” Billy teases with a smirk plastered on his face as he ties his hair back into a bun.

“What? No! That would be…inappropriate.” And there Steve goes placing his hands to his face again. 

Billy doesn’t say anything and just waits for Steve to tell him more about this horror-piece of a tattoo idea.

“It…it has to be a tramp stamp.” he says in a very wonky, very unsure tone and looks down the whole time, obviously embarrassed.

“Oh…ok, no. I’m not doing that. That makes me uncomfortable.” Billy gets up and puts his sketchpad away. He seems tormented by the situation and Steve just “What? What do you mean? It’s just-”

“Steve, I don’t care if you lost a bet.” He looks back at Steve. “Hell, is your friend…Robin?” Steve nods once. “Is Robin at least paying for the tattoo?”

“Well, no, I lost the bet so I-” 

“No, fuck that shit. I’m not fucking up your beautiful body that way.” He begins to remove his jacket. “Do you trust me?”

“What? N-not really …I haven’t seen you in years its-”

“Wow…ouch.” Another beat. “No here-” Billy takes Steve’s left arm and places it over Steve’s head. “Just trust me. Keep your arm here for me. I’m going to lower the upper part of the chair…just sit still.” Billy fiddles with the bottom of the chair and Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t panicking a little. Suddenly Billy grabs at his shoulders and gently brings Steve’s head down on the chair. He gives him a pillow to lay his pretty head on and Steve is still nervous…but also, Billy just fucking called him beautiful. He doesn’t know what to expect anymore, but he also doesn’t want to get up and leave. As scared as Steve feels in the moment…he’s also immensely curious to see what Billy is up to.

Billy gets some sharpies and a disposable razor from one of his many drawers. He presses play on his boombox and Kashmir by Led Zeppelin begins to play from the speakers just audible enough to be comfortable. Billy then shaves the back of Steve’s forearm, and then starts free-handing some design on his arm. Steve can see nothing; he’s not allowed to. He only feels the smooth tip of the markers making delicate lines on his skin, and it almost feels…seductive. 

“So tell me about this business of yours. I’m intrigued.” Billy asks while he continues to mark Steve’s arm.

Steve actually smiles at that…Billy’s interest makes him feel more at ease. “It’s a flower business! It’s actually right across the street from this shop.”

“Oh, no way! That’s you guys? We saw the establishment come to life little by little. It looks like a very homey shop. Congrats.”

“Thank you! We’re very proud of it. Robin and I just opened last week and so far everyone’s been so nice and supportive.”

“Is Robin your girlfriend?” Billy asks nonchalantly, but with a hint of worry at the VERY back of his voice.

“Noooo.” Steve says with an almost brooding tone. “Robin is my best friend and nothing more than that…”

Billy scoffs at that statement and tries to lighten the mood after Steve’s tone. “Hmm…yeah sure…because friends can’t be real best friends unless they make you get tramp stamps across the street. Is she cackling over there, or how come she didn’t come witness the glory of her suggestions?”

“Well she went out of her way to restock some flowers today…she’s expecting the tramp stamp when she arrives and now…I don’t know what to tell her.”

“That’s alright. I can talk to her if you’d like…” Billy scribbles at the bottom of Steve’s forearm. “I won’t miss adding DINGUS on this fucker anyways.” He continues sketching.“So why flowers?”

“Well, I’ve always been very attracted to flowers…they’re just so pretty, and plants are SO interesting! Robin has also told me I have an eye for detail. Flower arrangements are a great way to combine my skill and passion.”

“That’s admirable. Say…do you think I can swing by your shop, and request a special bouquet for my girlfriend after our session?” Billy smiles, even if Steve can’t see it.

“Sure!”Steve tries to sound enthusiastic, but waits a little before adding with another brooding tone“…you have a girlfriend?”

Billy chuckles. “Nah! Mag is my best friend. She has a girlfriend though! And I’m pretty sure they’d love to have some flowers in the apartment. It’s been a while…”

“Huh…funny how both of our best friends are lesbians.” Steve makes a remark, and Billy rolls his eyes but manages to crack a laugh anyways.

“Hmm…yeah, a little weird. Alright, I’m done sketching and-NO! No no…you can’t look!” And Steve pouts a little when Billy grabs and keeps his arm over his head.

Billy then starts to prep the tattoo machine. He grabs some black latex gloves and brings his small table with ink caps closer. “Alright Stevie, I’m coming in. Are you ready?”

But Steve is still stuck at the fact that Billy just called him Stevie. “Umm…” and then he catches on. “Ready…yeah, sure. Let’s do this.”

“Alright. Remember to just keep breathing, and if it gets too uncomfortable…count to 10, focus on your breathing, or talk to me! I want to make this a comfortable experience for you. Wait…is this your first tattoo?” Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd washes over the sudden silence.

“It…it is.” Steve’s eyes narrow a little at the corners.

“Oh wow…a virgin amongst us. Well, it’s a pleasure to be your first.” Billy winks at Steve as he cuts some paper towels from the roll. “Okay here we go.” And Billy’s needle starts buzzing and comes in contact with Steve’s arm. He drags the machine across, and Steve feels a ticklish kind of pain. He’d heard people compare the pain to cat scratches, but Steve’s never been scratched by a cat…He begins to think it might not be as painful as people make it out to be?

“Why don’t you tell me more…I want to catch up with your life. What have you even been up to?” And Steve is touched by Billy’s generous gesture to learn about his life. So they talk through the session, learning what things have changed and what has remained the same since high school; and it almost feels surreal that they’re able to talk as if they’d just seen each other yesterday. Getting the lineart done was a breeze, and the random moments of silence were brief. Somewhere down the line though, Billy feels a ragged breath coming from Steve the third time he comes in to apply colour.

“C’mon, Steve…deep breaths now.” The room tenses a little, and in the air you only hear Steve’s panting, followed by Billy’s constant “I’m sorry” mumbles and “breathe, breathe” or “You’re doing great!” but Steve still seems in discomfort. “Would you like a break? I can give you 5 minutes if you need them.”

Steve seems in a bit of a daze, and he doesn’t give Billy a reply, so he gets worried. He places his machine down and removes his latex gloves to fetch Steve a cup of water. 

“Can I trust that you won’t peek at your tattoo?” Billy asks in a delicate voice, and gets nothing but a soft nod from Steve. Billy takes this opportunity to flip his mixtape over, and goes outside the room for the water. When he returns, Steve has kept his left arm over his head like a good boy. He also has placed his right arm over his soft tummy and brought his legs up, dirtying up the chair with his sneakers. Steve looks comfortable and so inviting with that pair of forest green shorts, making Billy’s heart skip a beat.

“Is the water for me? Hellooo…”

Steve’s sudden preppier tone brings Billy back to, and he apologises nervously. “Sorry, you…you’re too distracting with your handsome face and… your… everything.”

Steve isn’t taken aback by the comments anymore. He’s getting more and more comfortable around Billy, and so he puts his right arm out to take the water from him. Steve takes a few gulps and Billy presses play on his mixtape before getting a fresh pair of latex gloves. “We’re about halfway through…do you think you can take some more pokes for me?” Steve holds the paper cup between his teeth, no hand required.

“Okaaaay” he mumbles through the cup in a childish tone that makes Billy smile.

“Hey…I know what will take your mind off the pain. Why don’t you tell me about your favourite flowers?”

And so Steve lightens up and starts to tell Billy about Cyclamens, Hydrangeas, and Gazanias. Of how much he adores Daffodils, Gardenias and Lilies the best. He doesn’t miss mentioning how much he loves the colour of Lilacs and Caucasian pincushions, as well as his current obsession with adding Baby’s-Breath to every arrangement he makes.

Billy doesn’t fail to chime in about his love of Delphiniums, Irises and Penny Blacks…

“I also like those, ummm…what do they call them? Ace of Spades?”

“Oh! The ones with all the tiny buds in deep red?” Steve still holds the empty paper cup in his right hand. “That’s a good pick! You probably would also like Passifloras.”

“What are those?”

“The crazy purple ones with-…geez, I don’t know how to describe them. Maybe I should just show you?”

“I would like that very much!” It almost felt like Steve was no longer in pain! So they continue talking and they both comment on the amazingness of succulents; they agree that water lilies are great and that magnolias are precious flowers that should definitely be in the flower arrangement for Billy’s best friends back in his apartment. At some point Steve sheds a few tears because apparently flowers make him very happy…and Billy thinks he might be mixing his emotions with the pain of his pokes…but he can’t help to find Steve crying over flowers to be extremely endearing, and it makes him smirk like crazy.

When Billy is done, he sprays water on Steve’s arm and wipes away with a paper towel, like…twice too many times, Steve thinks, because honestly…that shit stings!

“Okay champ, you can have a look now!” Billy says enthusiastically as Veterans of the Psychic War by Blue Öyster Cult nears its end.

He helps Steve get up from the chair, and guides him to the mirror on the wall. Steve is extremely nervous; what if Billy just did some crazy, but very meticulous lettering work for the word DINGUS all across the back of his forearm? He did say the word dingus would be there…he just didn’t want to make it into a tramp stamp…apparently. But throughout this journey Steve realised that he’d gained an immense trust in Billy. 

Billy, who had once beat the living daylights out of his face, now made him feel so safe and comfortable throughout the pain of this tattoo…he couldn’t possibly have fucked-

Oh.

Steve stands in front of the mirror, gasping into his right hand. He has no words…he’s frozen. Billy stares at Steve, then at the tattoo, and back to Steve.

Steve brings his left arm across his chest and glides his eyes over the neo-traditional dagger that decorates his arm. He traces his gaze from the tip of the blade to the handle…and marvels at the sight of the flowers wrapped on the handle, gracing near his elbow. Billy notices Steve looking at the flowers; their deep purple shade making a lovely contrast on Steve’s skin tone, and says,

“I wanted to make a homage to your new flower business, and Orchids are my favourite flowers so I…” he drops his comment at the sight of tears in Steve’s eyes.

“Oh, Steve please don’t cry. You’re being a baby, just-” Steve has now enveloped Billy in a tight hug, and he doesn’t know what to say. Billy just eases into the hug and pats Steve’s back. He’s very glad to see Steve is content with the outcome of his work. Above all, he’s also secretly VERY glad to see Steve again.

Back at the front counter, Steve complains that Robin will punch him because the word DINGUS is only a shade darker than the stems of the Orchid; and SOOOO TINY.

“Just send her over to punch me. Guess I’m to blame for not respecting the bet.” They both giggle nervously and stand timidly around. Parting is such sweet sorrow…and neither one of them knows how to break that ice.

“So…” Steve finally begins again. “How much do I owe you?”

Billy chuckles a little. “Oh, right. Well, how about you pay for my dinner? I half-assed your original tattoo design anyways.”

“Oh…no, I insist. What you did is so beautiful…I must pay full price.”

“Right…” Billy says assertively. “Pay for my very expensive dinner at the fanciest, most overpriced restaurant we can find, and we can call it even Steven” And they both just burst out laughing.

“Alright, it’s a date then.” Steve smiles, and Billy flutters his eyelashes at him, leaning forward and placing his arms on the counter.

“Can I get my private tour of your flower shop now, pretty boy?” Billy winks at Steve and that makes him blush like crazy. In his flushed panic, he looks down and catches a glimpse of Billy’s arms on the counter. He notices a dagger tattoo on the back of his right forearm, and Steve melts for a second.