My Angel, His Stalker(Matt/Stiles)

Chapter Nine

Stiles followed Scott into the tattoo shop that had a bright sign out front, muttering a bunch of incoherent words under his breath. They were there so Scott could get a tattoo and it wasn't his birthday. No Scott wanted to get it as a symbol. Why, Stiles had no idea and he was definitely going to ask.

They walked up to the man at the counter who looked up at them and sighed. "What do you want?"

Scott pulled out a drawing of two bands and handed it to the tattoo artist. "I want that on my arm."

The man looked at Scott, then Stiles and then back again. He stood up and said, "Wait here." He disappeared into the back of the store.

"Dude are you serious about this?" Stiles asked curiously. "I mean, I get it if you're doing this to impress your girlfriend but--"

"Stiles." Scott said and he stopped talking. "I'm getting it because I want to. Not to impress anyone."

Stiles nodded and looked down at the different pictures of tattoos thinking about if he'd ever get a tattoo.  Probably not since he basically fainted at the sight of needles, especially when they're used to put ink into your skin.

"What does the band mean?" Stiles asked.

Scott looked at him and said, "Three years ago our lives changed. The first two years were the most hectic and the most eventful. That was when everything really changed for us. And we've come a long way, Stiles."

Stiles found himself smiling and he looked down sheepishly, before he slapped Scott on the shoulder. "We have haven't we?"

Scott smiled but before he could say anything the guy behind the counter appeared and said, "You can head back now. He's ready for you."

Scott noded and turned to his best friend. "Listen Stiles you don't have to come--"

"What are you kidding?! I wanna see my best friend get his first tattoo." Stiles exclaimed.

Stiles followed Scott into the back of the tattoo shop and stood by the wall as Scott took a seat in the chair. The man made sure the drawing was something Scott really wanted and then he began to do Scott's tattoo. Stiles had crossed his arms and moved closer a bit to get a closer look and at first he was fine but the longer he watched the more he started to become queasy and lightheaded.

Stiles fainted.

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Scott felt horrible for not being more firm when he told Stiles that he could stay in the lobby. His best friend had fainted and was now just lying on the floor, passed out. The artist had turned to see what had made the loud thud and when he saw Stiles passed out on the floor, he chuckled.

"Had a little sister who fainted at the sight of blood and getting a tattoo." The man said.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Yeah but it's not the tattoo but the needle for Stiles. He hates them."

The man chuckled and continued to do Scott's tattoo. "Yeah some people can't handle needles. Why does he hate them?"

"Well--" Scott cut himself off when he heard Stiles groan and say,

"Yeah keep talking about me like I'm not here."

The man laughed and said, "Your friend's pretty funny. Anyway, I'm almost done."

Scott shot Stiles a sheepish smile but the teen just turned away, trying not to look at his arm. Inside Scott was laughing at his brother because of his reaction but on the outside all he did was smile.

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The next day Stiles was in the locker room rushing to get ready for practice before Coach Finnstock realised that he wasn't there. He was late because he had to drop lunch off at his dad's work office which of course was the sherriff's station.