The Tour. | +18 | BWWM

𝄞 14 | Fly Bird - Part 2

How do I get myself into these messes? One minute I'm getting Zoey's drunk ass cleaned up and in bed. The next I've agreed to get a tattoo so she'll drink another glass of water. How the fuck does that even make any goddamn sense? Drink a glass of water for a tattoo. I've got zero tattoos Zoey has about eight of them. They might not be a big deal to her, but to me, tattoos are no joke. A fucking neck tattoo. What was I thinking? I mean, if I'm going to get a tattoo, I should have made the deal for something bigger. I slap my head, making a meaty thwap noise.

Asher looks up from bolting the tattoo chair into the bolts on the bus floor. Concern crosses his roguish features. "It's ok if you don't want to get the tattoo, Sabali." His hand has completely stopped moving on the chair. Asher doesn't appear disappointed or not disappointed. It seems as if he doesn't want to pressure me into something. A part of me doesn't want to be a chicken.

"I've always wanted a tattoo," I repeat my earlier sentiment because it was true. I've always wanted one, but my brother told me to wait. He got a bad station house tattoo that had to be fixed. All the rookie firefighters at his station on the last day of them being a rookie got a tattoo. They went to the same place to get the tattoo, but the guy did an awful job on him. It was all hard lines and looked weird. It took a lot of money to fix it, so it was right. So, I was triggered when Zoey started getting her tattoos. "I'm a little nervous. Of course, it's my first one."

"Oh, ya..." Asher's smile is warm and very. Full, I'm just a normal guy, not a rock star. He put the final touches on the tattoo chair in the studio. "Hidden talent number three. I also cut hair." I was a little taken aback by that hidden talent. It was unexpected of him.

"That hidden talent was given out for freebie. I'm not sure if I'm willing to count it." I tease.

"Nope, count it! It goes with the hidden talent number two I can tattoo." Asher wipes down the chair with a cleaning solution. "We went to so many countries that Rux and his brother couldn't always get a haircut or tattoo in every country. The tattoo artist didn't know how to handle Rux and his brother's darker skin. And as for the haircut, they couldn't get either. So, we all learned to do tats and hair. It saved time. Which came in handy in many countries. I could already draw and it wasn't that huge of a jump."

All the pictures on the bus wall started to make sense. The pretty tattoos of Asher, Dustin, Rux, and his brother. Some of the pictures are black and white, while others are in color. Add to it that Asher voiced a lot of the worry I had and I partly wasn't afraid to say ok to getting the neck tattoo. Even less so now that he vocalizes my unsaid fear.

"Huh?" I answer, knocked out of my inner thoughts. Asher pats the chair. "Oh," then I sit down in the chair with a large gulp of air. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"I promise you, this is going to hurt." Well, at least Asher tells the truth something to remember about him. I take my journal out of my bag and flip to the page of drawings. He leans over my shoulder.

"A bird?" Asher says with a smile. The kind of smile that has something hidden behind it but not hidden in a bad way. Just a little something extra I couldn't put my finger on. "Do you want to see the tattoo drawing before I put it on?" I shake my head no silently. I'm getting lower on courage the longer this takes. Asher draws out on a piece of paper the way the tattoo should look, but my eyes are a bit unfocused. I didn't want to take a close look at it because I was so close to chickening out.

"Ok, Birdy. One bird tattoo is coming up." Asher says. I settle deeper into the chair. A part of me worried that the tattoo chair was a sex chair for something. It was so heavy-duty with padding. I partly worried that I was going to be strapped down. If I'm honest with myself, if he asked to strap down and fuck me. I'm such a dork and give it a try at least once. I mean, this man brings out the wanna fuck low bar in me. There's something about him. It's not just the music either. We blended, and he got me in a way that few people get me in that Van ride home. Something was there, something intangible. I felt it vibrate through me and it rang like a bell, a note... I felt it. I felt it...