Invictus

Shirt Off

Magnus worked on the tattoo for two weeks, between customers, in the comfort of his apartment in the evenings, on his trips to the shop in the mornings when he took the subway instead of his bike, as the summer heat slowly faded away to be replaced by the windy but pleasant freshness of September.

With it came Alec’s birthday, and Magnus’ final draft.

He eyed the paperwork Alec handed back to him without really paying attention to it, glancing back up at him.

“Are you sure you want to do it in one sitting?”

Alec smiled a crooked, taunting smile. “Are you?”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s gonna lie down for four to five hours while I stab your flesh for money,” Magnus retorted. “It’s gonna be painful.”

“Magnus,” Alec called out softly, and Magnus’ heart leaped in his chest. “I can take it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” Magnus replied suggestively, and the allusion wasn’t lost to Alec if his blushing cheeks were anything to go by. “Okay. Shirt off. Oh, how I’ve dreamed of saying that,” he said with a dreamy sigh, fluttering his lashes in staged emotion.

Magnus chuckled at Alec’s dramatic eyeroll, and went to grab the transfer paper on his desk. “Lie down, darling.”

Alec shrugged his sweater and t-shirt off and obliged, settling on the table. His breath hitched in his throat as he did and Magnus swirled around immediately, brow furrowed in concern at Alec’s paling features.

“You okay?” he asked at once.

“Yeah,” Alec murmured with a quick nod, swallowing hard. “It’s just… It’s very much like lying in an hospital bed. Bad memories.”

Magnus walked back to the table, resting a comforting hand on Alec’s shoulder. “We can do it sitting down but it’ll be less comfortable for you,” he told him softly.

“And for you,” Alec said. “You’re going to kill your back bending down all along.”

Magnus shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“No,” Alec said, shaking his head. “I’m okay. I can handle it.”

Magnus didn’t reply immediately, taking a few seconds to study Alec’s features and make sure he meant the words. When he saw no trace of his usual stubborn selflessness, he nodded.

“Did you eat enough?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Magnus!” Alec exclaimed, but he was laughing. “I’m fine. Just get on with it.”

Magnus pouted, pressing the transfer paper to Alec’s skin without further ado, smoothing it with his palms before taking it off.

“Okay,” he said, sliding a pair of black latex gloves on. “I’ll start at your hip and go up from there to your armpit and shoulder. Then I’ll fill it in and work on the shadows.”

Alec let out a shaky breath, anxiety suddenly written all over his face and Magnus couldn’t resist the urge to reach out to push a loose strand of hair off of his forehead and run his fingers in his hair, just once. Alec blinked up at him, clearly dazed by the tenderness of Magnus’ gesture - he was surprised himself - but didn’t try to push him away.

“Deep breaths,” he murmured. “It’s going to be alright. It’s only a small prick. I would gladly introduce you to a more pleasurable prick but I’m about to make you bleed so it’s probably not the best time.”

Alec snorted, the tip of his ears coloring in a lovely shade of red. “You think?” he retorted, deadpan, but he was smiling.

The soft sound of the music from his laptop echoing in his back, Magnus took his seat next to the table, sharing a glance with Alec, whose right arm was tucked under his head to give Magnus the room he needed.

“Ready?”

Alec nodded.

“If you need anything, you just ask and we take a break, okay?”

He nodded again, and Magnus mimicked him, before bending over his skin and switching the tattoo gun on.