Line without a hook satosugu fic / no curses au
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summary: Booking a full sleeve tattoo just to get to talk to your first love that ghosted you ten years ago, wasn’t Satoru’s brightest idea. But if you don’t risk anything, you can’t win, right?
cw/tags apply to the whole fic, not only this chapter +18, nsfw, no curses au, tattoo shop au, gego, satosugu, out of character, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, angst, everyone is gay, minor itafushi, minor nobamaki, past satoru gojo/suguru geto, top geto suguru, bottom satoru gojo, miscommunication.
wc: 2812
to read on ao3 click here.
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an impulsive desperate plan
The brassy clatter of the tattoo machine ringed in his ears, but Satoru had a mission, a purpose to expose himself to that place with what he considered were questionable sanitary conditions. Meeting Suguru once again.
“Hey, are you even listening?” a man in his fifties with pink spiky hair said and huffed “He’s not here” Satoru felt his heart sink low in his stomach.
“Sorry, what?”
“Suguru is not here” he repeated slowly, emphasizing each syllable as if Satoru was a little kid.
Oh. What a shame.
“Oh, can I ask why?”
“The hell I know, buying supplies probably. He won’t be back today, that’s for sure”
“But I have an appointment with him” Satoru insisted.
“I know, that’s why I said, since you booked an appointment with the shop, another artist can take your consultation. And since I’m the only one free here, I’m going to take it. Got it?” Satoru nodded.
This was truly a stupid desperate move, booking an appointment at the tattoo shop your first love worked because you wanted to get an answer after ten years of radio silence. And Suguru wasn’t even at the shop, great. What a great fucking idea, said absolutely nobody. Shoko would have smacked the back of his neck if Satoru had run the idea by her first. But this was the kind of plan you carry out without your friends knowing, you already know their answer. Don’t fucking dare.
And now, he was going to get tattooed, a permanent decision on his skin, by this intimidating older artist because he had hope Suguru would be there soon.
“So, a full sleeve, really?” he glared at Satoru up and down with his piercing red eyes.
“Y-yes?” he shifted in his place.
“No way in hell. I won’t do full sleeves on people with no tattoos” he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed “Sorry kid, but I’ve been in this field for three decades. I know people like you, you’ll regret it”
Satoru knew shit about tattoos, he thought a full sleeve was something quite usual for people to get. At least that’s as far as his knowledge on tattoos went.
“But it’s what I want to get” Satoru said with a frail voice, not very convincing. “So I miss my deposit then?”
Sukuna rolled his eyes “I never said I wouldn’t tattoo you. I will, just not a full sleeve. Here, pick something else”
Sukuna grabbed a hefty black folder from under the desk and put it over the counter. Satoru opened it with trembling hands, he didn’t mean to appear that nervous. He flipped through the folder, filled with intricate full body designs with vibrant colors. And finally he got to a section with smaller, single tattoos. A design of two ginkgo golden leaves caught his eye. A symbol of hope. He chose the inner higher part of his forearm to get it inked.
Sukuna guided him to his booth, Satoru took a peak at the other booth while they passed it by. The guy with the light mustache was tattooing someone's back, the girl laying down was resting her head on her hands, she look oddly relaxed for what seemed a pretty painful piece.
“You can wait here, did you eat before coming here?” Satoru shook his head. Sukuna clicked his tongue “wait here, don’t touch anything” he left for a few minutes and came back with an onigiri and sweet hibiscus tea. “Not much what that’s what we had in the shop’s fridge. You need to eat before, can’t get a tattoo on an empty stomach.” his tone was softer now. Sukuna was brash, older and hot, if only Satoru wasn’t trying to re connect with his high school crush, he would totally ask for his number and flirt with him.
Satoru took the onigiri and tea, he didn’t have a choice. While he ate, Sukuna transferred the chosen design, big calloused hands with thick fingers carefully tracing the gingko leaves.
“Name’s Sukuna, by the way, you didn’t ask. Too much in your head, huh?” he said while preparing the table, cleaning the surface with a spray that made the booth smell like a hospital.
“Right, sorry, Satoru” his cheeks pink with shame.
“I know, your name was on the booking agenda” he said while putting vaseline in the bottom of a tiny plastic cup and poured golden ink in it.
Satoru gulped. He often wasn’t this shy around strangers, but Sukuna had a strong intimidating presence.
“Ready?” Sukuna asked while putting on the black nitrile gloves, Satoru nodded. “Stand up then”
“And roll up your sleeve now” he applied a transparent gel like cream and spread it, it was cold. After that, he applied the paper with the design and gently pressed down with one hand while the other supported the arm. His hands were warm, really warm. He removed the paper and revealed the purple lines with the design. Sukuna hummed and asked “do you like it there? Look at yourself there, in the mirror”.
Satoru approached the mirror which had multiple colorful stickers all around the edges. He looked at the design, twisted his wrist to get a full view of it from different angles, it was delicate but not too small.
“I like it, really”
“Good, now sit there” he pointed to the chair across of him. “And extend your arm over here” he patted the armrest.
Satoru sat and extended his arm over the armrest covered in film paper. Sukuna pressed with his foot the pedal and the machine clattered, he put it in the black ink plastic cup. Sukuna stretched Satoru’s skin with his index and thumb fingers, and started tracing the first line.
It felt like hell, he winced and Sukuna noticed.
“Is it too much?” he stopped after finishing the line, and looked up at him.
“N-no, just unexpected” Satoru said while scratching the nape of his neck.
“Alright, just stay still for me, we’ll finish before you notice.”
Satoru focused on his breathing, he clenched his free hand and the pain started feeling tolerable. The music in the shop was instrumental, it wasn’t too loud.
His mind drifted to Suguru. Where was he now? What was he doing? Will he get to see him before he leaves the shop? Why didn’t he answer his private message? His thoughts kept him occupied from thinking of the physical pain.
A few weeks ago, before booking the appointment at the shop. After grading his students exams in his desk at home, Satoru opened up his phone and checked his social media, he had a notification. A few likes on a photo he uploaded of him and Shoko at Mount Fuji, a trip they took on summer. A yearly trip they took before graduating high school, when it was the three of them, and not just him and Shoko. Even without Suguru, it became their little tradition.
He thought of him. How did he look like now? Would he still keep his hair long? The way Satoru said he liked because it fit him. He hasn’t seen him in ten years, ten long years of hurting without answers.
One evening he was confessing his feelings for him while they sat under a cherry tree drinking one can of soda each, a chessy thing but he didn’t plan it, it was just how it flowed. And the next day, Suguru was gone. No one home, he didn’t pick up his cellphone, he just vanished.
To say Satoru felt heartbroken was an understatement. He felt someone had ripped his heart out of his rib cage and threw it to the wolves. He never thought Suguru would just disappear without saying goodbye.
At first, Satoru thought maybe something terrible had happened to him and his parents. But nothing came in the news. Shoko suggested to ask the principal, but he said there was nothing he could do. Suguru changed schools, but didn’t specify where.
Now there he was, still thinking about him, wishing to meet him again.
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll, until…
A photo of four men: one looked like a bodybuilder in his fifties, a guy with a light mustache, and then a younger one with black hair in two spiky buns and on the right there he was, Suguru. Sharper jawline, taller, broad shoulders, long silky hair, sleeves covered in tattoos, but it was still him. Fuck.
He looked at that photo until it got printed in his retina. Zooming in to see every detail. He had to do something, quick! He clicked to see if Suguru’s account was tagged and it was.
He had a brilliant idea, book an appointment with him. He would see his username and notice it was him or at least that was what he hoped. He researched a little to know how the fuck to approach a tattoo consultation and after writing and erasing multiple messages, he send the message.
HollowPurple Hey, I really like your style, I wanted to get a full sleeve tattoo, are you available any time soon?
He thought of leaving his phone on the desk and take a walk, or finish grading students papers, whatever to take his mind of waiting for a response. But before he could do anything he saw it.
Read.
Typing…
And then absolutely nothing.
A week passed, still no answer. Had he said something wrong? Had Suguru noticed it was him and that’s why he didn’t answer? Did he recognize Satoru by the username handle because it was the same tag he used when they played games?
He felt like a creep, but he thought if he didn’t try he would loose the chance he had to reconnect with him. So he contacted the tattoo shop in which Suguru worked and ask for an appointment for a full sleeve.
Satoru noticed the constant noise from the tattoo machine had stopped for what felt like a minute now. The tattoo was finished.
“Hey, unc. I just picked up Yuji from his play date”a guy with red eyeshadow, a nose bridge piercing and a black strip across his nose stepped in the booth, wait, was that tattooed?
“Where’s the brat?”
“Front desk, drawing” Choso answered and came closer to look at the finished piece “ want me to take some pictures?”
Sukuna hummed in response, cleaning the tattoo area with white foam and a tissue. Satoru felt that hurt worse than the tattoo itself. But the design turned out so pretty. The outer lines where thicker while the inner ones thinner, the golden ink stood out against his complexion. He was in awe.
The younger artist instructed Satoru to put his arm in the armrest again, over clean tissues for the photo. He pulled a ring light from the side of the booth and turned it on, it was quite bright. He took a couple of pictures and videos, Sukuna had to clean the tattoo a couple of times because blood kept coming out. He reassured Satoru that was completely normal.
Satoru got wrapped the area with film and secured with paper tape, despite his demeanor Sukuna was truly gentle with his work. It was a bit cute to see such a big man handling a client with that much care. Those rough hands handling him with such care, what if…
The shop’s bell rang, someone came in.
“Sorry I’m late” that velvety voice, he recognized it instantly. Satoru’s throat went dry.
He peeked at the booth and saw Satoru, Sukuna and Choso there. His expression was unreadable. Satoru felt his heart was going to explode. Suguru left a black plastic bag with supplies on the free stretcher and walked towards them. He had thought about this encounter many times, what he would say, what he would do…
“You’re always sorry, and you’re always late” Sukuna said with his gruff voice and a scowl.
Suguru bent over a little to closely look at Sukuna’s work on Satoru’s skin, he grabbed his wrist to twist in a little and look at it from different angles. A gesture that wasn’t necessary at all. His hand was icy cold.
“Good choice for a first tattoo” Suguru said without acknowledging Satoru beyond that,
“You two know each other?” Choso asked looking between them. Satoru stayed silent, Suguru hummed but didn’t answer, he let go of his wrist and sat on the stretcher.
“Lines are solid” Suguru said looking at Sukuna.
“Of course they are, he got it done by me” Sukuna said while taking off his nitrile gloves and discarding them in the trash. “You were too busy with whatever the hell you were doing to show up at your own appointment.
“I bought supplies for the shop, we’re almost out of gloves, tissues, cups…”
“We’ve talked about this, you can’t buy supplies during work hours”
“I’ll make it up to you, I’ll close the shop today”
“For a week” Sukuna demanded.
“Alright, for a week” Suguru sighed.
Sukuna turned to looked at Satoru that was standing awkwardly waiting for them to finish their bickering.
“You, come with me. I’ll explain how to take care of your tattoo” he walked out the booth, expecting Satoru to follow. Satoru gave a quick glance at Suguru and Choso, they both gave him a short nod as a goodbye. He shyly lifted his hand.
“Take care” Choso said, Suguru was already looking at his phone by then.
At the storefront, a tiny pinked hair boy was sitting on his knees, drawing peacefully on the leather chair that was way too big for him.
“Look uncle Sukuna, it’s you!” the little kid said while holding up a colorful drawing made with markers. It was certainly an abstract piece of art. Sukuna took the paper and put on his glasses.
“You added my face tattoos this time, good job” Sukuna said, Yuji smiled then tilted his head when he looked at Satoru, who was standing there waiting for Sukuna to show him how to care for his tattoo.
“Sensei Toru?” Yuji said while climbing down the chair.
“Hi Yuji” Satoru said with a gentle smile reserved for his students. Sukuna furrowed his brows and looked at Satoru.
“Sensei? You’re the bra- Yuji’s sensei?”
“Yeah, what a coincidence, right?” Satoru said while looking at the multiple drawings Yuji was handing him now. “There are great! Seems like being an artist runs in the family” Yuji’s eyes lit up, proud to be compared to his artist uncle.
“I want to be a tattoo artist and a piercer when I grow up like uncle Sukuna and Choso!”
Sukuna patted his head, a rare sight of tenderness in him. “You sure will kiddo, now let me talk to your sensei, get back to drawing” Yuji nodded, fists clenched, a look of determination. He climbed back up the chair and continued his artistic endeavors.
Sukuna had put over the counter a small cream and a soap.
“After two hours, you’ll clean it with lukewarm water and soap. Make sure you wash it well, get rid of all the slimy thing. It’s completely normal if after a few hours it turns a bit red. You’ll be okay, your arm won’t fall off.” he said all this as if he had repeated the same speech time and time again, because with thirty years of experience he probably had. “When everything is nice and clean, pat down with a tissue, don’t use a towel for fucks sake. After that, you’ll wrap it up with film. Repeat the same thing for the first two days every couple of hours. Don’t put fucking cream on it and film over, unless you want an infection”
He made a small pause and grabbed the cream.
“Put cream after the second day, a thin layer” he emphasized. “three times a day, got it?” he put the cream back in a plastic bag with the soap for Satoru to take home.
“Got it.”
For the first time, Satoru saw what looked like hesitation in Sukuna. “I’ll give you my number, if you have any doubts or forget everything I have explained, text me” he handed Satoru and his artist card. A Japanese style dragon with fire flames, his name in the back and his contact information.
“Thank you” Satoru said and pulled money of his wallet, he remembered “here, for the onigiri and the tea” handing him more yens that it cost.
“Keep your money” Sukuna scoffed. Why would he refuse? Pride, probably. Satoru pushed it over the counter, but Sukuna put it back in his hand, closing his hand over Satoru’s fist.
Before leaving, Satoru left the money in the tip jar and bit his lip. Sukuna’s lips twitched in an almost smile.
“Persistent, I like that” he said to himself while the bell rang as Satoru left the shop.
an: this fic is meant to have a couple of chapters, I'm thinking between 5 to 7. I'm not sure yet. I have most of the story outlined, but a few things to figure out. There will be other characters listed on the fic, they just don't appear in this chapter.
