Shades of Dusk

Planning New Ink

Dinner is a quiet affair tonight, both of them caught up in their individual thoughts. For Beam, it's both a blessing and a curse; he wants to talk, to speak over the noise in his head that has been getting progressively louder since his not-conversation with that damn med student. The words and insecurities he hates because he wasn't insecure before now.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Still. The noise is becoming almost loud enough to go spilling out of his mouth, and that is the last thing he wants.

"You're being awfully quiet," he finally blurts, after spending a good five minutes studying his rice.

Forth blinks at him, seeming to get pulled from far away thoughts, a small smile playing over his usually smiling mouth. It reminds Beam too much of that morning, when he stepped unknowingly into the minefield, and he wants to wipe that expression from Forth's face.

"Just thinking about tattoos," is what Forth tells him after a beat of silence, just as Beam is opening his mouth to snark at the other man. The words bring him up short, have him blinking and closing his mouth with a quiet click.

"What about them?" he asks to continue the conversation. To try and figure out what his partner--the man who is supposed to be his partner--is thinking. The grin he gets is warm and wide, and it sends his heart soaring, even as he tries to keep himself grounded.

"I'm thinking about my next one," Forth explains, seemingly pleased with Beam's curiosity. It makes Beam's own mouth twitch, the happiness infectious, even while he's still trying to figure out what Forth is talking about.

"Your next one? You're getting another tattoo?" Beam doesn't mean to ask it as loudly as he does, and he feels his cheeks heat when not a few people around them glance over with distaste. The only saving grace is Forth's warm glance, bemused and exasperated in turns.

"I am," Forth agrees calmly, taking a bite of his food, his eyes still practically sparkling at Beam. It should be fucking impossible, but there it was.

"What... What are you planning on getting?" Beam tries to think of a question he should be asking, not the multitude of paranoid medical questions that immediately pop into his head.

Sometimes, being a medical student was a goddamn curse.

"Ai'Beam, you don't have to try so hard; if you're not interested, it's okay," Forth tells him gently, and that...

That kind of hurts. Okay, no, that actually hurts quite a bit more than he thought it would. The immediate assumption that he isn't interested, just because he doesn't have any tattoos? Is fucking nonsense and all it does is feed into that goddamn voice.

"Fine," Beam agrees gruffly, setting his fork and spoon on the plate. He contemplates just getting up and leaving, but they'd driven together; if he left, he would be walking. And considering the amount of medical texts he was carrying around at the moment for the damn project he's supposed to be working on?

Dammit. There was no way to make any kind of exit out of this situation that didn't leave him crankier than he already was. And staying... staying just made his chest feel tight, made it hard to breathe, his throat closing up in what he can only imagine an asthmatic feeling when having an attack.

Worst of all is the awful pressure behind his eyes. It's stupid, what the hell is wrong with him?

"Beam?" his name is called softly, closer than he expects, and he jerks in surprise when he glances up to find Forth's face right fucking there.

"Dammit, Ai'Forth, make some noise when you move!" he chastises half-heartedly, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"What's wrong? If I've been quiet, you've been dead silent," Forth pushes, ignoring the scowl on Beam's face while reaching out and taking his hand. A warm gesture that makes Beam feel like the victim of whiplash, the way his emotions seem to be swaying dangerously from happiness to despair and then back again.

"It's nothing," Beam insists, voice going soft as he stares at the way their hands tangle together. The feeling of that big, warm, calloused hand enclosing around his while being enclosed in his, in turn, grounds him, has him breathing a little easier. Reminding him that what's in his head isn't what's really in front of him. His fingers curl tighter of their own volition, the traitors, when Forth goes to pull away.

"Let's get out of here?" he suggests, and Forth agrees with a silent nod, tracking down their waiter and calling for the check.

When the check has been settled, the move away from the little restaurant and down the street with their fingers still tangled, their shoulders brushing as they walk. They pass the car and continue on, and Beam doesn't particularly mind, not when it gives him more time to clear his head.

Some how, in the quiet companionable walk, they find themselves on a quiet bridge overlooking a small portion of the surrounding city. They settle into the overlook, side by side, both once again quiet and lost in their thoughts. Finally, the silence is broken again, this time by Forth.

"My first tattoo is the one on my shoulder. The black dragon, I mean," he explains, bringing Beam around in surprise. Forth continues to stare out over the water, leaning against the railing of the overlook, his eyes not quite seeing the water below them.

"Forth..." He can't seem to will his voice above a murmur, responding to that damn quiet sadness he'd seen when he'd been tracing the lines with his fingertips.

"It's a memorial tattoo. I got it when I was 14. The second one I got, once my dad calmed down, was the crab on my ankle; my little sister's favorite movie was the Little Mermaid at the time," Forth continues his explanation, his lips quirking at the memory.

"You don't have to do this," Beam cuts in, anxiously, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around one muscular bicep, inadvertently curling around the tattoo that Forth had first mentioned. His hand, which is not really all that small, doesn't even go all the way around. He feels infinitely better about it when the arm beneath his hand shifts, and a warm hand ends up pressed against his hip in return, Forth twisting to look at him, now.

"I don't have to, no," Forth agrees with a smile as he straightens, moving in closer. Stealing Beam's breath away before the man has even really entered his space, but just with the intent alone.

Beam is so, so gone, it's not funny.

"But I want to," Forth murmurs as he leans in to press a chaste kiss to Beam's forehead, earning a shaky exhale in return. Beam's other hand comes up to curl into Forth's shirt, to hold him still, wanting to stay just like that, for just one second longer.

"Let's go back, then. And you can tell me about them all, na?" His suggestion is answered by a wide, gummy smile, the happiness clear on Forth's face. Forth's arm goes around his shoulders, tucking Beam close as they begin to walk the way they'd come, heading back towards Forth's car.

\;*;/