TO: mikeyway
(9:49pm)
Mikes! When are you next heading up to the hospital?
FROM: mikeyway
(10:34pm)
Monday afternoon. Why?
TO: mikeyway
(10:36pm)
Is Gee going with you?
And what time in the afternoon?
FROM: mikeyway
(10:58pm)
No, and at like 4. Why?
TO: mikeyway
(11:00pm)
Can I come with you?
FROM: mikeyway
(11:39pm)
You're a weird dude, but sure.
Despite Mikey's inability to reply to a message in less than 20 minutes, I was suddenly filled with a great amount of excitement and joy.
After research and discussing with my friends, I'd decided that I was going to take Reggie up on his offer of a discounted tattoo. I had some ideas about what I wanted, but I'd probably talk to him about it when I got there.
The important thing, though, was that Gerard didn't find out. Not because he wouldn't like it, but because he most definitely would like it, and I wanted to surprise him.
The topic had come up the next week, on a Thursday afternoon, when I was hanging out at his house because my Mom was working late, and said I should go to 'a friend's' house for dinner. Naturally, that 'friend' was Gerard.
Someone on a TV show we were watching had tattoos, and Gerard had pointed out how nice they looked – and blushed.
From that, I managed to wring out of him that he actually really, really loved tattoos. He started talking – after a large amount of encouragement from me – about how he used to lick Bert's while they fucked, and that was it for me. There was no way I wasn't getting one.
In all honesty, I did sort of want him there. I wasn't needle-shy at all, but the thought of marking my skin forever was slightly daunting, and, considering it was his damn fault I was doing it, I wanted him there with me, even though he'd probably pass out.
I smirked a little bit, tucking my phone under my pillow. No, it'd be better if I just went alone. I wanted to see his face on Tuesday when I walked into class with a tattoo. He'd probably lose it right there and blow the whole thing. I couldn't wait.
Gerard noticed I was acting oddly on Saturday evening.
More appropriately, he noticed I was acting oddly on Saturday evening, while he had his mouth around my dick. He pulled off gently and tilted his head, his eyes wide.
"Baby, you okay?" he murmured, his voice husky and fucked-out. I ran a hand through his hair and smiled softly.
"Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?" I murmured softly. He raised himself up onto his elbows and looked up at me.
"You seem kinda distracted. Like, you're thinking about something else." He said, tracing shapes into my hip bone. I smiled and stroked his hip with my foot.
"No, honey, I'm fine. Just distracted."
"By?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. I chuckled, petting his head again.
"Nothin' important, I promise." I said, smiling gently. He crawled forward a little bit, resting his head on my chest.
"You're hidin' something from me." He mumbled. I laughed lightly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"You're so paranoid, Gee." I chuckled.
"Is it bad?" he asked, his voice shaking. I felt guilt run through me, and wrapped my arms tightly around him.
"No, baby, it's not. It's good."
"What?"
"It's a surprise."
