Archive of Our Own ^beta

 “Charlie’s the body mod virgin of the group.” Darcy jokes, sipping their vodka soda and shooting Charlie a devilish grin over the glass. 

The eight of them were squeezed into an outdoor seating area at one of their favorite local restaurants for their monthly, or at least their attempt at a monthly, friend-only (significant others were welcome after six months of dating) dinner. It was a warm night, maybe a bit too humid for them all to be sitting this close together, but Charlie didn’t mind the way his thigh was pressed against Nick under the table. Or how his arm rested on the back of the bench behind him, Nick's fingers absentmindedly toying with the cuff of Charlie’s t-shirt. Over the past seven years, Charlie had lost track of where it all started, not remembering if it had been something at uni or shortly after, they’d all just kind of fallen in together.

Tao and Isaac were his best friends from secondary, the three of them meeting on their first day of year seven. They’d adopted Elle and, by extension, her best friends, Tara and Darcy, into their group. She and Tao had dated for a few months, Tao’s first year at uni, before realizing they were better off as friends. Charlie answered a want ad for a drummer during the summer between his first and second year of university, finding Sahar, who fit seamlessly in with their group. She floated in and out whenever she was focusing on her music or was on tour, and was always welcomed back with open arms and stories from her travels. 

The last two to join their group were Imogen and Nick, becoming quick friends with all of them when Darcy met Nick two years ago. Nick and Imogen dated their first year at university while Nick worked as an apprentice at a local tattoo shop and Imogen bounced between academic paths. Charlie had heard the story of how, with the help of therapy and the single most supportive person to walk this planet. Imogen realized that she wasn’t that into guys (her words, not Charlie’s), and they’d broken up but stayed close friends. 

“Yeah, even Isaac has his little ankle tattoo.” Imogen chimes in, Charlie eyeing the delicate flowers that cover both of her arms and knowing that she’s still sporting a belly button ring that she got when she was sixteen.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it.” Charlie protested before running through his friend group in his head. He thought of Tao’s memorial tattoo for his dad on his shoulder and Sahar’s ears full of interesting gold jewelry and a nose ring to match. He did seem to be the only one in his friend group without a tattoo or piercing, until he remembered. “Nick doesn’t have any tattoos, and he tattoos people for a living.”

“I’ve never liked anything enough to want to get it tattooed onto me. It’s more common than you think for an artist not to have tattoos, actually. But I’ve had my fair share of piercings over the years.” Nick says. 

Charlie nods, remembering Nick showing up over the years with random ear piercings done by Darcy and, once even his nose. Always saying that he hated the healing process and mostly did it to let Darcy have someone to practice on before they opened their shop together last year. “But you don’t have any right now.”

“That’s what you think,” Nick says, winking at Charlie. 

“Yeah, I've been trying to convince Nick to let me pierce his-” Nick’s hand comes up over Darcy’s mouth, cutting them off.

“Not now, Darce.” Nick grimaces when Darcy licks his hand, pulling it away and wiping the spit on his jeans. 

“We’re getting off topic,” Elle chimes in.

“And what would that be?” Tao asks.

“That our little Charlie needs to have his tattoo or piercing cherry popped,” Sahar says, smirking at him from across the table. 

“Come on, Charlie, neither of us has even finished our first drink, and our shop’s only two blocks away.”

Charlie thinks, distracting himself with the restaurant menu even though he’d been here time and time again and knew exactly what he was going to order. “I don’t think I’d mind an earring, maybe a small hoop?”

A few hours later and a belly full of pasta, Charlie finds himself in the small two room tattoo and piercing studio owned by Nick and Darcy. Only Tara and Nick had accompanied them to the shop, Nick saying he needed to get a charging cord he’d left there earlier in the day. The rest of their group drunkenly piling into an Uber to head home. 

The front of the shop was Nick’s space. Charlie knew he’d spent months picking everything from the deep blue of the walls to drawing all the different art to create a gallery wall complete with mismatched frames, which Charlie and the others had collected from second-hand shops for Nick. The large window that made the front of the shop filled with a variety of lush plants that Nick tended to with the utmost care. Charlie remembered Darcy fondly complaining that Nick spent over a month choosing the client chairs for both of their rooms. He'd wanted to find the most comfortable option for their clients, since in his case, they’d sometimes be sitting in some very odd positions for hours on end. 

They leave Nick in the front room to search for his cord, following Darcy and Tara into the back room that served as Darcy’s piercing studio. The room is lit by the soft blue neon glow coming off the dripping heart shaped mirror, giving the room a somewhat eerie glow, making the bright colors of the art hanging around the room pop before Darcy flips on the soft overhead light. 

“Now I don’t recommend piercing with a hoop, they’re easier to snag and can slow down the healing. But what about a simple stud to start, and we’ll switch it once it’s healed?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Charlie says, nerves starting to spread, his brain feeling a bit fuzzy.

“Aaaaww, don’t worry,” Tara says, coming up behind him, hands on his shoulders, and guiding him to the chair. “Darcy has a real gentle touch, and you can still say no if you want.” 

Charlie shakes his head, looking around while Darcy grabs their sterilized supplies. “Nah, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” 

“Okay, I’m going to mark it first and have you look at the placement,” Darcy says, getting close to Charlie and drawing a small dot on his ear before holding up a handheld mirror.

“Yeah, looks good.” 

“Super,” Darcy says, opening a sterile needle, Charlie trying not to let the noise bring up unpleasant memories of hospital needles and the bags of fluid he’d been given after passing out when he was first diagnosed with anorexia.  “Take a deep breath for me, and when you exhale, I’m going to do it.” A sharp pinch and a bit of pressure later, and Darcy is pushing the post into the flat back of his new earring. “There ya go, all done, some of my best work if I don’t say so myself.” 

Charlie giggles, standing up to look at his new addition in the mirror. “It’s just a simple earring, Darce. But yeah, I like it.” He says, turning his head to the side. 

“Let me get this cleaned up, and we’ll head home. Why don’t you go hang out with Nick while I get this cleaned up? Show him how hot you are.” Charlie blushes. 

“Now, whatever would have you blushing like that?” Tara teases.

“Yeah, I thought you two were just friends,” Darcy adds. “Super close friends, who cuddle during movies, platonically hold and hug for just a tiny bit too long.”

“Totally nothing going on there.”

“I do all the same things with Tao or Isaac, and you aren’t saying I’ve got a thing for either of them.”

Darcy rolls their eyes, “Only because Tao is our poor supportive straight friend and we both know as much as a catch Isaac is that his ass is ace, so no romantic relationship between any of you on the horizon.” 

“And what is so different between me and Nick? Just because we both have the possibility of being attracted to each other and we’re both single, does that mean we have to date?”

“No, Charlie, what Darcy is trying to say-” Tara starts before Darcy cuts her off.

“What I’m trying to say is that you turn into a full-on gay crisis whenever Nick is around, and if he flirted with you any harder, Tara and I might start falling for him.”

Charlie scoffs, “I do not. We’re just friends. We do not flirt.” He says it in a way that he isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince himself or Tara and Darcy.

Truth be told, Charlie had been trying to convince himself that Nick Nelson wasn’t flirting with him for some time now.  What started with silly little remarks from Nick turned into what Charlie would call full-level flirting, if it had been from anyone else. He and Nick had become fast friends, quicker than anyone else in their already established friend group. He wasn’t sure what it was about the other man, but they just seemed to mesh together. Charlie chalked Nick’s behavior up to their extremely close friendship because, after all, why would someone like Nick want to date someone like him? 

Nick was the embodiment of sunshine and was often compared to a golden retriever by those around him. There was never a stranger that Nick didn’t speak to, and it was almost like he could mold himself to fit into any situation or friend group. It was perfect for his work as a tattoo artist. Giving his clients a happy bubbly person to talk to, comfortable silences, or anywhere in between, while he jabbed them with tiny needles. It also didn’t help that Nick was, without a doubt the most physically attractive person Charlie had ever met. Auburn hair and just the right amount of freckles dusting his face and arms. And don’t even get Charlie started on his arms, years of playing rugby in school had turned into a pick-up league in the park, and a few hours a week spent in the gym.

While Charlie was the opposite. Around his friends, he showed off his expert wit and genuinely happy nature, but he was hard to get to know. Preferring to keep his circle small, less of a chance of being hurt that way. He’d been told that to know him was to love him, but Charlie found that hard to believe, because if that were the truth, wouldn’t he have found the great love the others around him seemed to find? Charlie longed for the easy love he saw between Imogen and her girlfriend of almost a year, or for the way Tara and Darcy seemed to orbit around each other, still in love after almost a little over a decade together. But after his last breakup, Charlie promised himself he’d settle for nothing less than that moving forward, nothing less than happiness.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Charles,” Darcy says, cleaning up their work station.

“So when are you gonna let me get my hands on you?” Nick questions Charlie when he steps into the main room of the shop. 

Charlie came to a stop. He wasn’t expecting Nick to be propped up in his tattoo chair, reclining back with his long legs stretched out in front of him. “I, um, what?”

“You sat for Darcy, so I’m wondering when I’ll have a turn to get you,” Nick pauses, giving Charlie the playful crooked smile he loves so much, “in my chair that is.” 

“Darcy’s a lot easier to sit for, she’s got just one needle where you've got hundreds.”

Nick chuckles, standing up and walking closer to Charlie. “It’s normally about three to maybe fifteen. And I’m very gentle, promise.”

“Three is still more than one.”

“All I’m saying Char, you decide you want a tattoo and you let anyone else do it for you, I’ll be very upset,” Nick says, now inches from Charlie, looking down at him with a determined look on his face.

“Are we interrupting something? We can head out if you two need a minute?” Darcy’s voice comes from behind them.

“All good here, just checking out Charlie’s new addition,” Nick says, the spark leaving his eyes when he takes a half step back.

“Yep, ready to go,” Charlie says, knowing full and well that Nick hadn’t seen his new earring.

The idea floated around Charlie’s head for the next couple of weeks. Thinking of how Nick’s hands could gently touch his skin while he permanently inked a design into it. He’d never really given much thought to what he’d like to have as a tattoo, but now it was the only thing he could think of whenever his mind was free from work. Charlie found himself on Pinterest, of all places, scrolling through different designs that all started to blend together after weeks of looking. Until late one night, he remembered something he’d heard Nick tell a client one day, when he was in their shop, that you should pick something meaningful for your first tattoo, then anything after that, you can start having fun. 

After three weeks Charlie finally gave up coming up with an idea, admitting defeat, and that he probably wasn’t meant to have any tattoos. He pushed the idea from his mind and filled his weekends with different hobbies. Today's distraction involved a marathon trip to multiple book shops with Isaac, where he told himself he wouldn't buy anything since his bookshelves were already overflowing, but he came home with four new books nonetheless. Charlie groaned, looking at the packed shelves when he got home and started moving things around, deciding if it was finally time to donate some of his books (read: let Isaac look at them before taking them to a second hand shop) when he finds his well loved copy of The Song of Achilles, the idea hits him like a ton of bricks. Charlie first read the book months before his first stay inpatient as a teenager and then countless times after. He’d lost himself in the romances of Achellies and Patroclus more times than he could count. It was the one book that, no matter how many times he read it, still brought new emotions during each re-read.

[Charlie]: are you home?

[Nick]: Well, hello to you too.
Why yes I am home, but you do
realize it’s almost midnight, right?

[Charlie]: yeah cause you take appointments
before 10am, how could I have forgotten

[Nick]: More worried for you
who has a normal 8am job

[Charlie]: thanks for your concern,
i’m working from home tomorrow,
so i’ll survive 

[Charlie]: can i come round? i need to
talk through something with you

[Nick]: Oh, I’m intrigued! I’ll put the kettle on

Nick’s flat was one of the places Charlie felt the most comfortable. He’d slept on the well-loved sofa more times than he could count and knew his way around Nick’s kitchen almost as well as his own. In this moment, Charlie was thankful for the ease he felt around Nick, allowing him the freedom to pace back and forth in the living room, scattered with scraps of drawing paper and Nick’s lighted drafting table shoved into the corner with his latest flash sheets sitting on the darkened surfaces. Nick sat on the couch, tea in hand and legs spread, watching Charlie with a curious look on his face.

“It’s one of my favorite moments in the book, Nick. I’ve read it a hundred times. But there’s something about when Achilles tells Patroclus that he’s the reason why he’ll be the first hero to find happiness. I want that for myself, to believe that even with everything I've been through, that I’ll find a happiness that doesn’t feel like I’ve settled but with a person and in life that I feel at peace.”

“Now Char, you know I appreciate your love for books and will always listen to your rambles, but care to tell me why this was a midnight tea conversation and not an afternoon lunch conversation?”

“Do you do tattoos in places covered by clothes?”

Nick arches an eyebrow, interest piqued. “Why yes, I do, Charles.”

“What about on friends?”

“Now if you’re bout to ask me to tattoo your dick, I don’t think we’re there yet, but hey I’m willing to try if you are.”

“Nick!” Charlie laughs, shaking his head. 

“So your arse then?” Nick bites his bottom lip, letting it slip between his teeth and smirking at him.

“You’re ridiculous, just my hip, you numpty.” Charlie says, turning to hide his blush.

Nick stands, “What are we talking about?” He asks, grabbing Charlie’s waist and turning him back to face him, Charlie doing his best not to melt into his touch. “Here?” Nick asks, touching the side of Charlie’s hip a good half inch above the waistband of his jeans.

“More like here,” Charlie says, placing his own hand on the front side of his hip, right over where the lean muscles he has from all the miles he’s ran form a soft v and disappeared into his jeans. “I want it to be private, somewhere I can show people if I’d like, but I’d like it more to be something just for me. As a reminder.”

Nick nods, letting his fingers trail across Charlie's when he walks away. Clearing his drafting table and grabbing a pencil. “Lay it on me.”

Two days later, the sun had set, and Nick’s closed the curtains of his shop. Charlie watches Nick go on autopilot while he sets up his tattoo station. He’d seen him do the setup a few times when Charlie’d stopped by the shop to pick up Darcy to go to lunch, or the few times he’d come in with Tara on a slow day to watch Darcy work. But there was something about watching Nick’s skilled hands filling little ink caps and wrapping his tattoo gun, knowing that the same fingers would soon be on his skin, that made Charlie's stomach tie up in knots. 

“Okay Char, I know we talked about placement the other night, but I wanted to check in with you one more time before we get started. It’s a sensitive spot for a first-time tattoo, and aftercare is going to be a bit tricky since we won't want anything rubbing on it while it heals.”

“I thought about that when we first started talking about this. I’ve volunteered to work through a few very large manuscripts, and my boss is okay with me working from home while doing that. So it’ll just be my most comfortable loose-fitting boxers and my pen for the next few weeks at home.” Charlie watches Nick’s cheeks go the lightest shade of pink and tells himself that it’s a trick of the lighting and not Nick blushing at the thought of Charlie walking around his flat in only his pants while editing manuscripts. 

"Just let me know if you need any help. I give really good aftercare if you need any help." Nick says, his tone making Charlie wonder (hope) that he was meaning a different type of aftercare.

"Think I can manage some non scented gentle soap and some aquaphor." Charlie joes back.  

“Let me get the stencil on and I’ll have you go look at it in the mirror.” Nick sits, wheeling his chair over to Charlie. “Okay, so um, I’m going to need you to move your joggers down just a bit, however far you’re comfortable.” Nick does his best to hide his reaction when Charlie folds the waistband of his joggers down. 

He’d already moved his shirt up just above his belly button, and it wasn’t like Nick hadn’t seen Charlie shirtless before. But this was different. They were alone, not at the beach with their friends, and Nick was about to have his hands very close to a certain part of Charlie’s body that he’d only touched in his dreams. Nick turns, biting the inside of his cheek at the sight of the hair trailing into Charlie’s pants growing a bit thicker when he pulls them down, and the way the V of muscles flex when he arches his hips up slightly has Nick almost sweating.

Nick goes back into his ‘tattooing mode’, rubbing Charlie’s skin down with alcohol and gently going over the area with a razor to remove any wayward hairs before finally applying a thin layer of Stencil Stuff and lining the stencil up with the curve of Charlie’s hip bone. Moving with more care and precision than he has with any of his previous clients. Not that Nick didn’t try to give all his clients a good experience while he was tattooing them, but this was Charlie, and he deserved the absolute best. And Nick wouldn’t admit it, he was appreciating the time he was getting to spend handling Charlie in this way, letting his finger linger a bit longer than necessary across his hip bone and stomach.

“Go give it a look.” He says, patting Charlie’s hip one last time.

Charlie stands, walking to the mirror and looking at the words stenciled across his skin. Two small lines of text, made just large enough that they wouldn’t blow out (Nick’s words) after a few years. Charlie had let Nick pick the font, he’d tried a few before they’d both decided that Nick's slightly messy handwriting looked the best and fit the mood Charlie was going for. “Can I touch it?”

“Lightly.”

He lets his fingers brush over the words ‘Name one hero who was happy’, the first four words setting just high enough that they would almost fully show above the waistband of any trousers he wore while the last two would be completely covered, with the ‘w’ in ‘who’ fell just below the ‘r’ in ‘hero’ Charlie loved it. He loved the simplicity of the handwritten text and the deep meaning the words held for him. He loved that it was Nick's handwriting, that it was him who was going to permanently add the words to Charlie’s skin, and that Nick would be the first one to see it. 

Charlie makes his way back to the tattoo chair, and Nick hides the laugh when Charlie shudders a bit at the first buzz of his tattoo gun. “Aaaaww, come on, love, you can do this.”

“I’m going to need you to shut up,” Charlie’s eyes quickly flick from the spot he’d been staring at on the ceiling and down to Nick and back. “Please.”

“And where is your can do attitude?”

“Oh, well, she left long ago.”

“It’s six words, I promise this’ll be twenty minutes max. And we’re the only ones here, so feel free to curse up a storm and be super mean to me.” Nick says, dipping into the ink. “I like it.”

Twenty-three minutes and what felt like a cat scratching at a fresh sunburn later, Nick was squirting something foaming onto Charlie's skin and giving it one final whip with a paper towel. 

“All done, you did great, Char! Go take a look.”

“Seriously? That was it? Darcy was right, you really are good at that.”

“You’d be surprised, I’m good at quite a few things.”

Charlie looks at his now red skin in the mirror, the words that have meant so much to him for years now forever added to his skin. He can’t help but feel tears well in his eyes, blinking them away when he sees Nick come up behind him in the mirror, standing close enough that Charlie can feel the warmth of Nick’s chest on his back. They look at each other in the mirror, something different in the air around them. Charlie couldn’t place it, but the way Nick looked at him was almost as if he wanted him. His eyes were wide and full of an expression Charlie had never seen from Nick.

“It looks great, the redness and swelling will go down in a few days as long as you take care of it. Now turn around and I’ll get you bandaged up so you can head home.” Nick says, stepping away from him to turn off the harsh overhead light, leaving them in the soft lamp glow. 

Nick kneels in front of him with the bandage, Charlie having to think of the pain of the needles biting into his flesh moments ago to keep things from getting awkward.

“Charlie?” Nick questions when he stands, his hand coming up to cup his cheek. Charlie meets his eyes, the soft brown somehow bright in the dim lamp light of the shop. “Let me be him, let me be the one who makes you happy.”

“What?” Charlie says, the word coming out in a whisper.

“I’m done pretending that I’m not in love with you.”

Charlie blinks and feels his jaw drop just slightly. “You’re in love with me?”

“So fucking in love with you.” 

“Are you joking?”

“Jesus, Charlie, I’m confessing to you, and you ask if I’m joking? Way to make a guy feel good about himself.” Nick moves his hand, stepping back and starting to turn away from Charlie.

“I love you, too.” Charlie blurts out, and before the words have even fully left his lips, Nick is kissing him. 

“Come home with me, let me take care of you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Charlie, I’ve been pretty much in love with you since we became friends, and just spent the past almost hour having to touch and stare at your very fit body. I need you.” Nick says, kissing across his cheek and down his neck. Licking before he gently bites down.

“You think I’m fit?”

Charlie feels the hot puff of air from Nick's laugh against his skin, shivering at the way his lips move when he talks. “So fucking fit.” 

If someone had told him that getting his first tattoo would land him in Nick’s bed, both wearing only their pants, with little space left between them while they made out. Charlie would have told them they were insane. But here he was, gasping while Nick sucked marks into his neck, loving that he was able to do so since Charlie would be working from home for the next few weeks. Nick wanted Charlie to remember that he was there each time he looked in a mirror, from the bruises leading down his neck to the ink on his hip.

Charlie moans, feeling Nick’s fingers again at his waistband, but this time with a very different intent. “Tell me what you want.” 

“You,” Charlie manages when he feels Nick's hand slip inside his pants and wrap around his straining cock.

“How do you want me?” Nick asks, slowly working his hand over Charlie, loving the heavy weight in his hand and the feel of wet pre at the tip. 

“All of you, if we’re going to do this, I want everything.”

Nick pulls away, not moving his hand but moving so he’s able to look Charlie in the eye. “This isn’t a one-time thing, right? We’re both on the same page?” He asks, letting his thumb brush over the tip of Charlie’s cock.

Charlie gasps, eyes closing and leaning his forehead onto Nick’s shoulder. “Clearly. But Nick, could we have this conversation when you aren’t jerking me off?” Charlie moans at the feeling of Nick fisting his dick, twisting his wrist at the base before slowly working his way back to the tip. “Going to need you to focus.”

“Gladly,” Nick says, suddenly moving. Charlie squeaks when he feels Nick slide his pants down, and he’s suddenly kneeling in Nick’s lap. 

He realizes Nick has also lost his pants when he pulls him in for a kiss, Nick’s hand wrapping around him and pulling them close, letting their naked cocks rub together. Nick breaks just long enough to reach so he can reach to his bedside drawer, grabbing a condom and lube. His fingers massage Charlie’s arse. “Now I don’t want to make any assumptions, though I feel like I need to make sure you’re not hitting your brand new tattoo repeatedly. I was thinking I’d top?”

Charlie nods, Nick not wasting time, squirting lube on his fingers and brushing his finger gently over Charlie’s hole, spreading the warm gel over the tight muscles. “I’m verse,” he moans, Nick pressing a finger into the first knuckle. 

“Perfect.” Nick kisses Charlie slowly while working him open, trying not to rush. They’d have time for fast, hard sex later. This was what they both needed, a space to show the love they’d hidden away for so long. No words were said between them, Nick slowly fingering Charlie open, feeling him rock backwards onto his hand, the movement letting their dicks brush together with each forward movement.

“I’m ready,” Charlie says, his voice breathless, when Nick has worked him up to three fingers. Scissoring him until his hole was comfortably loose and a small pool of pre was dripping onto Nick’s stomach from the number of times he’d pressed against Charlie’s prostate. 

Charlie reaches over and grabs the condom, ripping it open and rolling it down Nick’s hard cock. Going up on his knees, Nick grabs his own dick to help Charlie slowly slide down, both moaning when he reaches the base and is fully seated in Nick’s lap. “I love you.” Neither sure who said the words first, both too caught up in the feeling of Nick being fully inside Charlie. 

“Christ, Charlie,” Nick groans when Charlie raises onto his knees and slowly slides back down his cock, bouncing slowly in his lap. Nick’s hands find his hips, being careful not to touch the bandaged area, but helping Charlie work his way into a rhythm. 

“You feel so good inside of me, so fucking full,” Charlie says, not breaking their eye contact while he rides Nick into the mattress. 

“Everything I’ve ever wanted,” Nick mumbles, sitting up so he’s able to kiss Charlie. Continuing to whisper sweet words into his ear. “You’re doing such a good job riding my cock, sweetheart, think you can come for me?” 

“I need,” Charlie moans, when Nick arches up into him, pressing just where he needs him. “I need you to touch me.” Nick wastes no time, wrapping his fingers around Charlie and matching his pace, turning Charlie into a panting mess above him moments before he cums, coating Nick’s chest and stomach. Nick leans back so none of Charlie’s spend rubs onto his bandage. 

“Fuck Charlie!” Nick groans, throwing his head back into his pillow before emptying into Charlie. Charlie reluctantly climbs off Nick’s lap, letting the other man slide the condom off and drop it to the side of the bed to be dealt with later. Nick doesn’t let Charlie go far before he’s pulling him into his chest, Charlie tucking his head under Nick’s chin.

“Did that really just happen?” Charlie questions, not daring to look up from his safe spot buried in Nick’s chest. “I can’t believe you actually love me back.”

“Start believing it or I’m tattooing property of Nick Nelson on your arse.” Charlie laughs, the sound contagious, causing Nick to shake with silent laughter that soon turns loud. The room full of their happiness.