inked.

Welcome to K. Ink

*Please note: the nature of this series will be slightly more mature than what you're used to seeing from me.  Some themes may include: vulgarity, heavy swearing, and implications of adult relations. Due to these themes, this series may not be suitable for readers under the age of 16. Reader discretion is advised.*

"Tsukishima's here."

"Send him on back, Akaashi!" With a snap of his gloves and swivel of his stool, Kuroo Tetsurou turned to face his last client of the day. "Let's get this sleeve finished, Tsukki dude."

By now, Kuroo had gotten used to the unamused look that settled upon his client's features every time that ridiculous nickname was used, but all the same, Tsukishima sat himself down in the leather seats just like he had done countless times before, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to give his high school friend full access to his shoulder.

"You know the drill by now. We're going to wipe it down, put the stencil on, you can check placement and design, and then we'll get started, cool?" There isn't even a moment for the young man to answer before the cool wipe is passed over his shoulder and the stencil to complete the full look is placed onto the newly clean area. Tsukki turned his body to look in the mirror at the foot of the chair, offering a slight nod of approval before sitting back. "This should finish it all out and really pull together the rest of the sleeve," Kuroo states, letting the hum of the tattoo machine fill the room as his foot eased down on the pedal.

It seemed like just yesterday he was picking up a machine for the very first time. But now, the weight of the machine and its steady vibration had just become a part of him. Day in and day out, Kuroo Tetsurou did nothing but create the most incredible art pieces, punching ink directly into the skin, watching as his own creation stumbled into existence at his very own fingertips. And at only 27, massive success as a tattoo artist hidden under his belt, he was able to open the doors to a shop of his very own, nothing but a handful of friends and a love for his art to push him forward.

"Hey, Kuroo!"

"I'm busy!"

"Dude, it'll be quick, I promise!"

Kuroo leaned away from Tsukishima's arm, easing his foot off the pedal, letting the hum fade. He lifted his head and nearly fell off of his stool from the surprise. "Dude, what the actual fuck."

Kuroo had never really regretted having his best friend work alongside him in the shop. He would get free piercings or jewelry in exchange for regular touch-ups. But it was moments like these where the tattoo artist had serious questions for his past self. Bokuto Koutarou stood before him, a needle stuck through the septum cartilage of his nose as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What do you mean 'what the fuck.' I have a question."

"Why is there a needle in your nose!"

"I was piercing it, duh." His friend looked at him with confused eyes as if the needle and his title of body piercer really should've been telling enough. But, rather than continuing with what he had to say, Bokuto turned the chair on the other side of Tsukishima around to seat himself backwards, arms leaning against the back of the chair. "What's good, Tsukki dude! I didn't know you were coming in today! When are you gonna let me pierce those ears, huh?" He teased, reaching his hand out to lightly flick Tsukishima's earlobe.

"You are not going anywhere near me with a needle."

"Oh, come on! I'm good! You can ask Kuroo. Bro, aren't I a good piercer?"

Kuroo nodded at Tsukishima, slowly turning his machine back on to return to his work. "He is pretty good. Helps that Akaashi always orders quality jewelry so it heals better. If you really wanted to, Bokuto could do your ears right now. I mean, you are going to be here for a while."