Broken Brooklyn Babies

☆|Chapter Four|☆

The two boys made their way to the back of the shop. Reaching the third door on the right, they stopped and turned, walking into the room.

"Steve's gonna keep me company while you work," Bucky informed Clint, who was currently putting together the tattoo gun.

"Okay, that's cool," He replied quietly, continuing to get everything ready.

Bucky made his way across the room and plopped down in the black chair. Staying in a sat up position, the brunet chucked off his hoodie before gripping the hem of his shirt and lifting it up over his head. Once it was off Bucky tossed the articles of clothing in a pile next to the seat and leaned back, getting comfortable.

Steve, who's head had been down since the other took off his hoodie, lifted his gaze to take a quick glance. The second his eyes landed on Bucky he froze in place, eyes wide.

Steve had noticed Bucky had some muscle to him instantly, but seeing how well built he actually was-

The blonde let his eyes scan over all the sharp edges and overall nice build of his inked up torso. His gaze suddenly came to a hault, however, when he realized the fucking metal arm Bucky had.

Steve didn't even realize the quiet 'holy shit' he muttered until Bucky glanced over at him, noticing where he was looking.

Oh, the look of discomfort that suddenly grew on his face killed Steve inside. The tenseness now in his shoudlers causing the blonde's lips to turn into a frown.
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Around half an hour into the tattoo process what awkward tension that had been created drifted away, all three boys joking around as Clint worked carefully and precisely on his task.

Steve had even pulled out his sketchbook at some point and began to draw whatever little things came to mind, keeping up with the chatter from the other two

He was in the middle of shading the roses he had sketched around a skull when his attention was pulled away from the page, head snapping up to look at the others.

"Alright, let me get the cleaning solution and wrap," the older said as he stood up, giving his arms a quick stretch as he padded off to go rumage around in one of the cabinets.

"Whatcha drawing there, Stevie?"

The blonde's eyes snapped over to look at Bucky.

"'Stevie'?" He said, brow raised as a quiet chuckle left his mouth.

"Yep, Stevie, now lemme see the book," Bucky replied, making a grabby hand at Steve like a child.

The blond sat there silent for a moment, thinking it over.

He never really showed people his drawings- well aside from Clint, but those were for work purposes. Bucky, someone he barely knew, was asking to see whatever little doodles he had done to pass time.

Staring directly at Bucky completely straight faced, Steve closed the book and slowly slid it into his bag as he finally spoke, "What book? I ain't got a book."

The brunet's face formed into a scowl, clearly not amused. Steve's face was the complete opposite, his growing into cheeky smile as he looked at the brunet.

"Steve doesn't really show off his drawings, don't take it personal," Clint informed as he sat back with the cleaning solution.

He then began gently cleaning the freshly inked area of Bucky's chest, careful not to put too much pressure as the skin was quite sensitive now. After that was finished, Clint slowly wrapped some plastic film around Bucky's torso to keep the area clean. Steve was honestly shocked he didn't see the brunet even flinch throughout this process, not even any little noises of discomfort were heard. It looked painful in his opinion, the way his broad chest was a vibrant red with little prickles of blood scattered about, some areas even starting to gain a faint, purple hue; most likely some bruising beginning to form.