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 just let it begin, lori / sparky ♥
HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: Apr 3 2015, 12:39 PM
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Hugo wasn't exactly paying attention to anything going on around him. It was a quiet day in the store, just a few appointments floating in and out, most of them regulars. Hugo was too new to have any regulars, so he'd gotten to spend most of the morning at his own station, bent over a sketchbook where he was doing rough work for the Animation course he was taking this summer. He was normally wary of having anyone around when he was working on anything for school, even something as simple as this, but his work station was tucked somewhere out of the way, and no one had come over to bother him or ask any stupid questions yet. He'd decided that it was worth the mild risk that it presented, anyway, when inspiration (or some other, less cheesy word for it) had stuck earlier that morning. If he was going to be sitting here anyway, with nothing to do while everyone else was busy actually with clients, then he might as well get some shit done.

Completely absorbed in what he was doing, he didn't bother looking up when he heard the little bell over the front door ringing, signifying that someone had just entered. He barely even heard it, really, just registered it somewhere in the back of his mind. Someone else would deal with it. As a technicality, being the only tattoo artist in the shop right now who wasn't actively working on someone, he should probably be the one to talk to this customer. But Hugo didn't really care. They certainly hadn't hired him for his outstanding customer service skills or anything, so they couldn't expect very much. Instead of worrying about whoever had just entered, he wrinkled his brows in concentration as he tuned out the conversation buzzing in the background, his pencil making fast, short strokes over the page, the rough sketch of his ideas quickly taking shape. By the time he noticed eyes on him, and his work, he wasn't sure how long whoever it was had been standing there, but he looked up, face immediately forming a scowl as he got ready to tell his co-worker to fuck off. "What d'you —"

But the scowl was gone almost instantly, replaced by a slack-jawed, somewhat wide-eyed look, once he recognized the face. It wasn't a face that should have been that familiar — they'd only ever met once — but somehow Hugo didn't think he could ever forget that fucking face for as long as he lived. "Hey," was all he thought to say, staring kind of dumbly for a minute at his Cute Tattooed Florist (so what if that was what he was calling him? it was that fucker's own fault for not telling him his goddamn name). "Did you need something? Katya's..." He trailed off, glancing over behind the guy's shoulder to where Katya was — still working away with her tattoo gun in someone's shoulder. Oh. He blinked. "Busy, apparently." It occurred to him that the Cute Tattooed Florist likely already knew that, considering he was standing over here by Hugo's chair instead. "Uh..." He realized that his sketchbook was still sitting there and out in the open, and he shut it and shoved it away before standing so that they were level (well, pretty much level, actually — they were almost exactly the same height). "'Dick with the tattoos', right? What can I do for you?" That was something at least vaguely resembling smoothness.

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LORCAN CASSIUS HART
 Posted: Apr 6 2015, 02:34 AM
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tag hugo ♥
god i love these babes so much, tho.
Lorcan had been going to Katya for tattoos for well over two years now. He was accustomed to her, her style, her attitude. On some level he considered her a friend of sorts, even if they didn’t say much to each other sometimes. She understood him, how he operated. There was a level of comfort between them. Which is why he was genuinely surprised, and somewhat confused when he walked into the shop and she was bent over another customer at the same time she’d promised him she was free to work with him. He asked her about it, and she paused her work long enough to shrug and direct him to an artist who wasn’t busy, offering very little explanation as to how she double booked his appointment. He tried not to dwell on it, just turned to look for this station she’d been referring to.

He stood and stared at the station, tucked off towards the far side of the room for a long moment. The shock of red hair made his stomach flip just a little bit. Hugo. He hadn’t seen the man since the last time he’d come into the shop for a tattoo. But he hadn’t been able to forget him since. There was just something so intriguing. And Lorcan knew it was dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it. His feet started moving of their own accord, and before he could tell himself he’d just wait, come back later when Katya was free, the guy was snapping at him, and then reeling it back in quickly as he seemed to realize that Lorcan wasn’t whoever he’d thought he was. ”Hi.” he rubbed the back of his neck, shuffling his feet slightly. ”She said she had time when I called. Guess something came up…” Fuck this was awkward. He was awkward. What was he supposed to do?

”It’s Lorcan actually.” he said a bit offhandedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Hugo stood and their eyes were almost level with each others. He couldn’t help but glance down instead. Eye contact was terrifying. ”You know how to use that tattoo gun, or do they just pay you to sit around and look pretty?” Lorcan gestured towards the equipment, the corner of his mouth quirking upward just slightly, cheeks likely tinged the slightest shade of pink. He felt like a complete idiot. But Altair had told him to show interest in the guy, to be normal (whatever that meant). He was going to at least try. He’d made the effort to get laid by a stranger, in some attempt to get the redhead off his mind. But he hadn’t gone anywhere. And the truth was, no matter how much that terrified him, Lorcan kind of liked it.

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HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: Apr 7 2015, 01:11 AM
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There was something undeniably attractive about his Cute Tattooed Florist (and Hugo wasn't sure when he'd started calling him his, but along the way it had happened — it was, of course, to differentiate him from all the other cute tattooed florists of the world... or that was what Hugo told himself, anyway). Either way, he was hot as fucking hell; he was all angles and intense eyes and pale skin covered with tattoos (Hugo couldn't see them all right now, but he knew they were there, and he was sure he'd never forget that, either), topped with a mohawk of somewhat messy curls. Before setting eyes on his Cute Tattooed Florist, Hugo would have never pinned this to be his type. But it is. And perhaps it was aided along by the fact that something about him was so fucking cute, too, his grumpiness actually incredibly endearing to someone like Hugo, who was so cranky all the fucking time himself.

He wasn't sure what kind of fucking heavenly being up above had blessed him with Katya's double-booked appointment, but he said a silent thanks to it in his head as he just stared at the beautiful man in front of him, trying not to make it too obvious that he was fucking ogling him. "Guess so," he said, trying to sound disinterested even when he was more fucking pleased than he'd ever admit, that this guy had somehow ended up coming over to him. He offered a shrug of his shoulders, not bothering to glance in Katya's direction once again. She clearly wasn't providing any answers to their questions, and Hugo had something much better to look at right in front of him. He didn't expect the name when it came, off-handedly like it was fucking nothing. But then he couldn't keep the fucking shit-eating grin off of his face. "Lorcan," he repeated, partially to confirm but mostly to test it out. It was odd, different, uncommon; it suited him. And Hugo couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. God, he hated that this just fucking seemed to happen to him in Lorcan's presence. "Well, it's nice to be able to put a name to that face." And such a nice face it was.

"Mostly I just look pretty and model all my ink," he stated sarcastically, gesturing a hand at his non-existent tattoo sleeves to demonstrate that his joke was... well, a joke. "I guess I could try my hand at the tattoo gun, though. Here, you can, uh. You can sit, if you want," he said, gesturing at the chair and swallowing hard. For some reason, he was suddenly feeling remarkably inadequate for this job, and he wasn't really sure why. "Though," he started after a second, blinking a few times in quick succession, as if not exactly sure why he was divulging this information, "I should probably warn you I'm technically an apprentice." He was nearing the end of that time, but everything was based on technicalities these days. "And I've given a grand total of, like, three and a half tattoos." It was considerably more than that, but he offered a smile, hoping that he actually got the joke across and this wasn't all about to blow up in his face and send Lorcan fucking running out of there.

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LORCAN CASSIUS HART
 Posted: Apr 14 2015, 10:26 PM
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tag hugo ♥
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”Lorcan.” Fuck, he liked the way it sounded rolling off the redhead’s tongue. He wanted to hear it again, in every inflection imaginable. But it was a ridiculous thought. Unwarranted. He didn’t even know Hugo, really. And yet, he couldn’t get the fucking bastard out of his head. ”It’s Irish.” he said offhandedly, expecting a remark that never came. Plenty of people asked. It wasn’t a particularly normal name to have, certainly not one you encountered often, if ever. He’d never met another Lorcan, anyways. He smirked at the mention of modeling ink.

”Mm. Really impressive. You even have any ink?” he trailed his eyes up and down the man in question. It wasn’t a criticism or anything like that. It was an oddity, sure. Most tattoo artists started out in the chair first, but there were those rare few that never committed to inking their skin the way their clientele did. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with it. Not everyone was into the idea of permanently marking their own skin. It wasn’t hard to understand why. ”You’re making this sound really appealing.” Lorcan rolled his eyes and took a seat on the edge of the chair, popping at the first few buttons of his faded denim button-up.

He raised his eyebrows, just staring back at the redhead for a long moment. He could see the apprehension on his face, even has he tried to joke about it. It was kind of cute, if he were being entirely honest. But he hardly felt the same hesitation going into the situation, even after the nervous words. For such a characteristically skittish person, Lorcan had always been somewhat fearless in the face of permanently altering his body, oddly enough. It was one thing he had control of in his life. And, well, if a spontaneous decision went wrong somewhere along the line, there was always next time. ”Tell you what, Gingersnap, you fuck it up, you can pay for the cover-up job.” Lorcan caught the metal ball of his tongue piercing between his teeth and kept his eyebrows raised, undoing the next few buttons on his shirt as he waited for a response. It was a joke, really, but he figured it might help clear the air here.

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HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: Apr 16 2015, 03:14 PM
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The explanation was unneeded (it made sense that it was Irish, from what he knew of Irish names), but he was never going to complain about his Cute Tattooed Florist — Lorcan, damn it — talking to him. He seemed to be a man of few words, which was for some reason such a huge fucking draw that it was embarrassing. But it made the few words he did get so much more worth it. "It's nice," was all he said in response, a smile spreading slowly over his face against his own free will. Goddamn, there was just something about Lorcan. He wanted to press him up against a fucking wall and kiss him until they were both completely out of breath. But he also wanted to sit here for hours and listen to his fucking life story. There was just something so intriguing about him. Sadly, Hugo didn't think either of these situations was very likely to happen.

Lorcan raked his eyes up and down Hugo, probably trying to determine the validity of his statement about modelling ink. (He bit back a comment about objectifying him, god, but he couldn't even say he remotely minded. If Lorcan did want to check him out, Hugo would damn well let him.) He seemed to decide that the answer to the ink question was no, though, and Hugo shook his head in confirmation. "Nah," he said, shrugging his shoulders before clarifying, "Nothing's ever been important enough. Or... permanent enough." He wasn't sure what inspired the offhanded comment, but he felt a sudden uncertainty at that brief moment of (what he considered) oversharing. Fuck. Then again, Hugo thought most sharing was oversharing, even if for whatever ungodly reason he wanted to know anything and everything Lorcan was willing to tell him. "I do appreciate ink on other people, though," he said, changing the subject and taking his own turn to eye up Lorcan's tattoos. God, he wondered if the guy even realized how blatantly he was hitting on him.

"It comes naturally. I'm just a really appealing person," he said, the arrogance reflexive, cocky grin settling on his face. But it was replaced by a distracted, slack-jawed look a moment later, because Lorcan was starting to unbutton his shirt, and oh god, Hugo was going to have to keep a fucking steady hand despite sitting in front of this beautiful human being while he was shirtless. He couldn't help but glance down at the smattering of tattoos already covering much of the florist's chest. Goddamn. It took him a moment to even register that Lorcan had spoken, and he had to tear his eyes away from the man, busying himself at his work station instead, tugging out some paper and a pencil. He smiled again, trying to relax even though he suddenly felt jittery as fuck. He had a job that he had to do now, fuck.

"If I fuck up, I'll make it up to you. I promise." He kept his tone light, trying not to imagine all the many ways he could make it up to Lorcan (and failing miserably). Fuck, he was a mess. He cleared his throat, indicating the blank page in front of him. "So, uh, what am I actually doing for you today?" he asked, turning back to look at the guy once more... and immediately losing his train of thought again. Because now he was sitting there, not just as fucking gorgeous as he already was, not just with his shirt unbuttoned, not just covered in tattoos that Hugo wanted to run his hands (and mouth, oh god, he needed to fucking stop) all over — but now he had between his teeth a little metal ball that Hugo recognized as a tongue piercing. Fuck, he'd never known that he'd find such a thing so fucking hot. A quiet voice in the back of his mind told him he should stop staring. But he couldn't quite bring himself to listen.

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LORCAN CASSIUS HART
 Posted: Apr 19 2015, 04:40 PM
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tag hugo ♥
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Lorcan shrugged back in response. He could understand that, even if it didn’t much look like he did. With the amount of time he spent in the shop, and the seemingly meaningless (they were never meaningless, of course) patterns inked into his skin. But he knew what Hugo meant. ”Probably better that way. Never make the mistake of getting matching tattoos with a dick who’s going to dump you in a few months.” He’d long since gotten that shitty little reminder inked over. You’d never know it had been there if you looked at it now. But Lorcan still knew where it had been. Still wanted to claw it out of his skin sometimes.

He rolled his eyes, trying not to focus on the pair of greenish-blue eyes dragging over him in return. ”I’d say you’re in the wrong place if you don’t.” Appreciating ink kind of came with the territory of putting it in people’s skin, he would assume. The arrogance that followed with the next comment was almost… attractive. And Lorcan wanted to kick himself for even thinking so. Arrogance wasn’t supposed to be a positive trait. And yet it was one of the few things that had always drawn him in even deeper than before. Something about a guy with confidence made him impossible to ignore.

His fingers fumbled with the button for a minute, hyper-aware of the eyes on him as he moved, of the way the redhead was staring so intently. His face felt warm, ears burning. Hugo had seen him shirtless before, but fuck, he hadn’t looked at him like that. Lorcan wasn’t even sure what that was, but it made him squirm in his seat, heartbeat jumping slightly. It was never like this with Katya. But he wasn’t attracted to Katya. He didn’t find himself thinking about the shape of her lips, or what kind of sounds she’d make if they were pressed together against a wall, all inhibitions lost. He shouldn’t have thought about Hugo that way, either. And yet, it always managed to creep its way into the back of his mind somehow.

”Mhmm. You better.” He was thankful for the change in subject, Hugo’s eyes leaving him as he popped the rest of the buttons out of their loops and shrugged the shirt off his shoulders. Of course, he couldn’t help but think about the ways Hugo could make it up to him. About the noises he’d make as he did. Fuck. He looked back up as Hugo spoke, trying to clear his head the best he could. Lorcan really couldn’t afford any embarrassing situations today. Or any day. ”Here. Shouldn’t be too hard, even for a shitty apprentice like you.” he smirked, pulling a folded slip of paper out of his pocket and handing it over, a drawing of a simple celtic knot.

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HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: Apr 22 2015, 11:35 PM
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He tilted his head to the side at the words. ”Some dick dumped you, huh?” He couldn’t tell exactly, but the term “dick” alway seemed to imply that it was a guy. Maybe his Cute Tattooed Florist actually liked men. That would certainly be a step in the right direction for Hugo’s fucking ridiculous enamoured self. But there was no telling, not really, not from that simple little word alone; Lorcan could just as easily be calling some ex-girlfriend of his a dick. (Hugo had certainly dated his fair share of dicks, gender notwithstanding. He knew that fucking pain.) But he thought it was awfully presumptuous to assume things one way or another about anybody’s sexuality.

”After the matching tattoos and everything. That’s fucking brutal,” he said, hopefully sounding sympathetic. He wasn’t the kind of person who was particularly good with that whole sympathy thing. But he really did know what it was like, dating a jerk like that. ”What happened?” He tried to make the question casual, like it wasn’t also his way of trying to figure out whether or not Lorcan was into dudes. Subtlety had never been one of his stronger suits, though. But then again, Lorcan hadn’t seemed to notice any of Hugo’s less-than-subtle questions or advances thus far… or perhaps he was just too polite to say so. Somehow, though, he didn’t strike Hugo as the overly-polite type.

He just hummed his response, forcing his eyes away from Lorcan as he unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of his shoulders. ”Here, you can, uh… just put that here out of the way.” He took it and hung it off of the back of a nearby chair, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes trained anywhere but on his Cute Tattooed Florist. God, it wasn’t even fair for one person to be so fucking beautiful. It was dangerous; it made him jittery, unfocused. He didn’t know what it was. But something about the man intrigued him. He wanted to hear his fucking life story and ask him a million questions. And he also wanted to shove him up against a wall and kiss him hard and listen to nothing but his moans and pants for a few hours. Instead he prepared all of his equipment, forcing his hands to stay as steady as possible. Something about Lorcan made him nervous in all the worst (and best) ways.

When Lorcan passed over the paper he’d brought with him, Hugo took it, ignoring the fucking jolt in his gut when their hands brushed just slightly. (Jesus Christ, what was he, twelve years old? Get a fucking grip, Parker. There was no way he should have been so fucking affected by such a simple, stupid thing.) He unfolded the paper and looked at it, a small smile coming to his lips at Lorcan’s next words. He tried to shove the grin away (and probably failed) when he looked back up. ”Woah, shut the fuck up. Who says I’m a shitty apprentice? I’m a fucking amazing apprentice,” he corrected, pretending to take offense. But he was betrayed by the smile he just couldn’t get rid of, and he looked back down at the paper, trying to get his own face under control. ”So, uh… where are we putting this, exactly?” he asked, taking the opportunity to rake his eyes along Lorcan’s arms and torso again, as if he was just scouting out possible places for the Celtic knot, and not just blatantly eyefucking him.

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LORCAN CASSIUS HART
 Posted: Apr 26 2015, 02:48 PM
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tag hugo ♥
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Lorcan shrugged. He wasn’t sure if brutal was the word for it anymore. Maybe it had been at the time, but that was years ago. And he knew a lot more now than he had then. People weren’t always meant to be, no matter how much you wanted it to work, no matter how hard you tried to make it right. He’d been young and stupid, so had Cole. They’d been kidding themselves when they’d thought things would be alright, after all the fights, the misunderstandings. You couldn’t make someone love you, just as much as you couldn’t make yourself love someone. ”I wanted him to love me, he was still in love with his ex. You can probably tell where we went wrong.”

Truthfully, Lorcan wasn’t sure why he shared any of that with him. He wasn’t usually so forthcoming with information about himself. But it seemed to come easily with Hugo. Something about him knocking his guard down before Lorcan could even recognize the fact. They didn’t know each other, but it felt like they should have. Like there was something inside him that wanted to, needed to know more about Hugo, his hopes, his dreams, what made him tick. Maybe that was just plain old infatuation, though. It had been so long since Lorcan had looked at anyone and wanted to be near them. Maybe he just wanted to know him in the same way he wanted to kiss him, to be pushed back up against a wall and devoured. Christ, he had to stop.

Their fingertips brushed as he handed over the folded page, and Lorcan had to wonder if he’d just unintentionally shocked the both of them, or if that jolted feeling that ran through him was something else entirely. He looked down at his hand for a moment, but quickly shook it off. It was nothing, he decided. It meant nothing. ”You’re the one claiming you’ve only done three and a half tattoos.” he raised his eyebrows, trying and failing to hold back the grin that came along with the gesture. He wanted to kick himself, seeming so fucking eager, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. It was pathetic and altogether ridiculous.

He tried not to notice the way his eyes raked over him again. He was just looking for tattoo placement. That was all. Lorcan knew that. ”Somewhere around here.” he gestured to a blank space on his right side, close to the bottom of his ribcage. It would eventually be tied in more seamlessly with the flowers inked down his arm and side, but for now it would stand more on it’s own. At least until Lorcan found the right piece to pull it all together. It wouldn’t take him long, he was sure of that.

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HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: Apr 27 2015, 11:13 PM
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Lorcan didn’t seem too cut up about it anymore, which he supposed was a good thing. Maybe it had been a long time ago. Or maybe he had just bounced back quickly from it, if it had been more recent. Hugo wondered what the matching tattoos had been, but he didn’t ask. That certainly seemed personal — and not just personal, but reopening old wounds or some shit. He didn’t want Lorcan to hate him, for fuck’s sake. (Quite the opposite.) But the explanation made him pause for a long moment, giving no response but a nod at first. “Well,” he said finally after a few seconds, voice somewhat quieter than before, “I guess that’s just his loss then. Fuck him.” Hugo didn’t really know Lorcan. But he knew enough to know that he deserved better than some piece of shit who would have rather been with his ex.

Still, Lorcan seemed to be over it by now, so Hugo didn’t dwell on the somewhat sombre mood for too long. The response had, at least, confirmed his suspicion. The ex had definitely been a guy. His Cute Tattooed Florist was definitely at the very least into dudes. And while the conversation was altogether too serious for Hugo to smile about it, he did file this away for later. That was a step in the right direction. “My last boyfriend was a real piece of work, too,” he added, trying to sound as casual as he possibly could, saying this mostly because he wanted Lorcan to know that he was also most definitely interested in men. But thinking about Antonio also made him want to cringe a little bit. That had been a rough break-up, too. But that had been ages ago. There were just certain moments, certain arguments and fights and passive-aggressive comments, that he’d never be able to forget.

Lorcan looked down at their hands in the moment that they touched and Hugo felt like his whole body was thrumming with energy. He wondered if the other man had felt it too. Or maybe he was just imagining that; Lorcan didn’t seem to give any indication either way, and then Hugo was wrenching his eyes away to look at the paper instead. “Yeah, but they were a great three and a half tattoos. Would’ve been a solid four, but apparently people don’t want you to finish after you insult their choice in tattoos.” None of this had actually happened, of course (plus he’d done more than three and a half tattoos), but they were just fooling around, keeping it light, and Hugo grinned. Lorcan was grinning too, and it was absolutely fucking infectious even if it seemed he was trying to hold it back. Hugo wished he wouldn’t; he could stare at that fucking smile all day long.

“Hm,” he hummed to indicate his understanding, looking down at the bare skin on Lorcan’s side. Most of him was already covered with tattoos, but there was still a pale patch of skin there. Hugo was going to be covering a bit of that up today. He was practically fucking drooling thinking about being that close to Lorcan — all the other things he could be doing from that distance, other than giving him a tattoo. “Right about here?” he asked quietly, moving in closer, bringing his fingers to Lorcan’s bare skin to indicate. God, he was fucking touching him. Hugo wanted to spend all day doing nothing but touching Lorcan, letting his fingers roam everywhere all over his fucking body. But he was trying to fucking focus. “About as big as it is on the page? This wide along the bottom, maybe?” he asked, pressing two fingers gently into Lorcan’s side to indicate the size. Holy shit. He was absolutely fucking screwed.

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LORCAN CASSIUS HART
 Posted: May 1 2015, 11:39 PM
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Lorcan smiled a bit softer after the response, trying to ignore the way his stomach fluttered just a bit. It wasn’t like Hugo knew him, or anything about him. He was just being courteous, he was sure of it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to hear. Even if it was an empty statement. ”Hm. Nah, he’s probably lucky he got out.” And although it was meant as a joke, Lorcan kind of believed his own words. After the luck he’d had in dating and relationships he’d long since stopped blaming the guys. The common denominator had always been him. There was something about him that just wasn’t enough.

Something in Hugo’s face seemed to imply the fact that the boyfriend had been much more than a piece of work. Something worse than that. And for a moment, Lorcan flashed back to his time spent with Todd. All the toxic word and drunken fights, waiting for something that was never going to happen. To the thirteen missed calls and the long winded apologies left in texts and voicemails alike on his phone right now. ”Fuck ‘em. His loss.” he parroted Hugo’s earlier words, unsure who they were really for, but giving him a smile anyways. Maybe it was for both of them. It didn’t do anyone any good to dwell on thoughts of failed relationships, especially inherently bad ones at that.

He watched Hugo for a moment, rolling his eyes at his next statement. He had to admit the ridiculous banter was cute, though. ”The rest of the world judges enough. People don’t want it from their tattoo artists, too.” he shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He wasn’t really trying to be serious, he’d much rather maintain the playful conversation between them, watching the redhead smile, committing the way his face contorted to memory. But his words were true enough. Not that he cared much about the judgement people passed on him. The tattoos made him feel good. He liked seeing the ink winding around his limbs and torso, the colors seeped into his skin, drawing the eye away from the things he perhaps wasn’t so fond of seeing when he stood in the mirror every morning.

Lorcan could feel his stomach muscles tense involuntarily at the light touch. His mind was wandering again, imagining those freckled hands not just lightly brushing, but deliberately running over his sides, up his arms, down his back- He stopped himself before the mental image went too far. ”Yeah, roundabout.” he raked his fingers through his curls nervously. And then there were fingers pressing into his side again, this time more directly. And it took Lorcan a moment to realize Hugo had been asking him a question, his head still buzzing with the idea of being touched all over. Christ, he was a fucking mess.

”That sounds- Ahem. Yeah. That looks about right.” he cleared his throat, his voice betraying him as it came out in a hoarse sort of whisper at first. Maybe getting this tattoo wasn’t such a good idea after all. He was never going to make it through, not without embarrassing himself. But there was no use in walking out on it, either. Fuck, that would just ruin whatever slim chances he may have had with the redhead.

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HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: May 3 2015, 05:01 PM
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Hugo liked this guy’s smile, he decided, feeling his own face settle into mirroring the softer smile that had formed on Lorcan’s face. It faltered a little only when he heard the words that came next. Joke or not, there seemed to be some level of seriousness there, like Lorcan believed it even if he didn’t want to. “Nah,” he said, keeping his tone light but still softer, because he meant it, “I fucking doubt that. If anything the rest of us are lucky you’re not with that piece of shit anymore.” He felt his face heat up at his own words. Fuck, that was pretty fucking blatant. He looked away, wishing he could hide his probably very pink ears, but glanced at Lorcan for his reaction. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

He swallowed hard at Lorcan’s words. It was only what Hugo had said just a moment ago. But it was different hearing it, and it was especially different hearing it from this guy he was already so into. Fuck, he was pathetic. But he couldn’t even help it. “Yeah, his loss,” he agreed, but he couldn’t quite meet Lorcan’s eyes this time when he said it. And for some reason he felt compelled to continue, huffing out a breath quietly. Maybe it was the fucking look on Lorcan’s face, that beautiful fucking smile, that just made him feel like he needed to do more, to be more. Like he needed Lorcan to know everything there was to know about him. “Just fucks you up sometimes, y’know?” His face was still warm. But somehow he felt like Lorcan would understand, even when he wasn’t explaining much at all.

The eyeroll should have probably made him nervous, but Lorcan didn’t seem altogether put off by Hugo’s statement. He supposed that it could have come off pretty fucking insulting. But Hugo hadn’t meant it like that, not really. He liked tattoos on people in general. Bodies were just another canvas, even if Hugo had never wanted to do anything with his own. “Hey, I don’t give a shit what people are putting on their bodies,” he said, shrugging. “I’m just saying, you’d think more people would run shit through spellcheck before they decide they want it permanently inked onto their skin.” People were just fucking dumbasses. But somehow, Hugo had yet to piss off any of the tattoo parlour’s customers, actually. They tended to be far less fucking stupid than the customers at his last job.

He had his fingers just lightly pressed into Lorcan’s side, but Hugo was going to fucking lose his mind, because he just wanted to touch, to put his hands all over Lorcan’s body until he’d mapped out every inch of him and committed it all to memory — to feel the other man’s hands running all over him in return. Oh, fuck. His eyes fluttered shut for a second at the thought, but he forced them back open. Focus, Parker. If you fuck up he’ll never come back here. Or maybe he would, but he’d avoid Hugo. That would probably be even fucking worse. He took a deep, silent breath, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how fucking jarred he was by the whole situation. He just needed to focus on what he was doing, goddamn. He wasn’t a fucking teenager anymore, honestly, his hormones shouldn’t have been in fucking overdrive like they were.

“Okay. Just… turn this way, move your arm,” he instructed as he turned Lorcan into the right position, keeping his voice as steady as possible. It came out quiet, but quiet was better than shaky and unsure. But Lorcan’s voice didn’t seem to be fully cooperative either, coming out hoarse. Hopefully that wasn’t an indication of any lack of confidence in Hugo. “You okay?” he asked softly, trying to mitigate any uncertainties. He could do this. He withdrew his hands from Lorcan’s skin, retreating to smooth the page on his table in case he needed the reference, then returned with the tattoo machine, letting it buzz gently into life in his hand. “Ready?” He didn’t bother going through the standard this is going to hurt, don't move, let me know if you're uncomfortable bullshit that he would for some other people. Lorcan was fucking covered in tattoos. And Hugo wasn’t interested in patronizing him. So he kept it simple, taking another deep breath before he put a steadying hand gently back on Lorcan’s side, waiting for approval before he actually started, pressing the needle against the pale skin there. Fuck.

come just as you are to me
© wyatt
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LORCAN CASSIUS HART
 Posted: May 5 2015, 11:53 PM
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52
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21-YEARS-OLD
thunder
florist
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MIGHT SEE MY BROKEN HEART
tag hugo ♥
god i love these babes so much, tho.
He wrinkled his nose at the other man’s comment, laughing quietly at the idea. Lorcan wasn’t even sure what he was trying to get at, but he didn’t bother asking for clarification, either. It didn’t really matter. The sentiment still made his heart seem to skip a beat in his chest. ”Sure. Whatever you say, Red.” He pushed a hand through his curls, shaking his head slightly, smile unmistakable as much as he tried to hide it.

Hugo wouldn’t meet his eye, and something about the way he repeated the words reminded Lorcan of himself. Like he didn’t quite believe them. ”Seriously. Fuck him if he couldn’t see it.” A part of him wondered who could have hurt this guy so much that he didn’t see what a catch he really was. Even with the attitude and the sarcasm (maybe even especially with the attitude and sarcasm), he had entrapped Lorcan already. He’d never imagined that a redhead with such a big fucking mouth could possibly be his type, not when he looked so fucking… normal. Skin dotted with freckles instead of tattoos, no piercings sticking out of his face. He definitely wasn’t the sort of guy that Lorcan Hart ever set eyes on. But somehow everytime he spoke, Lorcan wanted to listen. And he felt compelled to respond himself. He’d never come to the tattoo parlor looking for conversation, that was why he loved Katya so much, but something about Hugo was so easy. He could have talked with him for hours. He wanted to.

”Just fucks you up sometimes, y’know?”

Lorcan did know. He knew all too well how a guy could fuck you up, mess with your head, tear you down. It seemed like it was all that ever happened in his relationships anymore. That desperate grasping at happiness, bending himself over backwards to reach for something that wasn’t really there. He nodded vaguely, running his sweaty palms down his thighs. ”Yeah. Yeah, I know.” his words were quieter this time. A little more vulnerable than he wanted to be. He wasn’t used to talking about this, didn’t really have anyone to tell it to that would have understood what he went through. A part of him wasn’t really sure why he felt like Hugo did. He hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with information. Lorcan didn’t really know what he’d been referring to at all. But somehow, it just felt like he knew. ”Doesn’t really feel fair.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at Hugo’s response. The whole thing could have gone south after his own reply, but the conversation really wasn’t as serious as the topic might have lent itself. They seemed to see eye to eye, despite sitting on different sides of it. ”Valid point. I guess if you’re nice enough to stop them from ruining their lives, they ought to be a bit more grateful.” he shrugged slightly. ”Good thing you don’t really need to run flowers through spellcheck.” he added. Lorcan wasn’t much a fan of putting actual words on his body. So far the only lettering he had adorned himself with went across his knuckles. And despite the fact that plenty of people liked to point out that ”Heart has an ‘E’ in it.” He hadn’t run into any spelling errors with the simple words.

”Just peachy.” He didn’t make any snarky comments about knowing what he was supposed to do, just moved as Hugo directed him, tucking his arm up behind his head. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as an afterthought, opening up his email application as a distraction. He was expecting some kind of contact from his parents soon. They’d gone off to Peru again to get more on those new lizards they’d found a few months ago. There was no word yet, but judging by the time, their flight only touched down a few hours ago. Mum would send something out soon. ”I’m ready whenever you are.” he glanced back over at the redhead, willing himself to be still and not jump at the skin on skin contact this time. Lorcan hadn’t been this nervous about getting a tattoo since he’d gotten his first one at eighteen. But unlike that time, this had nothing to do with the needle about to sink into his skin, and everything to do with the hot as fuck guy holding said needle.

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HUGO ADAM PARKER
 Posted: May 7 2015, 09:00 PM
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22-YEARS-OLD
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The guy’s smile was fucking infectious, even when he seemed to want to suppress it. Hugo wished he wouldn’t; it was probably fucking beautiful. But even as it was, the grin was undeniable even then, and Hugo grinned too, unable to stop himself. Fuck, this guy was amazing, and he barely even knew anything about him. He still wasn’t even sure if Lorcan had yet clued into the fact that he was blatantly hitting on him, but if he had, then he was pretty receptive if the look on his face was any indication. God, it couldn’t even possibly be fair for one person to be so gorgeous. “I still think I like ‘Gingersnap’ better,” he said, still smiling broadly, watching as Lorcan ran a hand through his curls. Why that simple action was so fucking endearing, he would perhaps never understand. But it was.

Lorcan repeated the words, and Hugo’s eyebrows knitted together for just a split second before he relaxed again. He couldn’t quite figure out why this guy was trying so hard to make him believe it. Maybe he was just nice like that. Or maybe, just maybe, he was interested in Hugo too, and he actually meant what he said. But Lorcan didn’t know him well enough to be say that and mean it. And chances were that if he did know Hugo well enough, he wouldn’t, couldn’t mean it. But he was saying it now, so Hugo just nodded after a moment, offering a small smile. “Yeah.” He could accept the sentiment while it was still here, pretend that he could even try to believe that it was honest. But it was still hard to maintain eye contact, and he didn’t manage it for long before he was looking away again, watching as Lorcan ran his palms up his thighs. “That’s because it’s not fair,” he said, hating how stupid and childish the words sounded even as he said them. “When their bullshit fucks you up this long after they’re gone.”

He couldn’t help but find the smirk way too fucking attractive, and he smirked lightly in return. Lorcan didn’t seem offended, and that could only be a good thing. Hugo had a tendency to offend most people he fucking met. It was a nasty side effect of never being able to shut the fuck up. “Somehow they’re never very appreciative. Ungrateful fucks, I swear to god,” he said, rolling his eyes in mock irritation. But his smirk transitioned somewhat to a proper, though smaller, smile at Lorcan’s next words. “Good thing, yeah,” he agreed. “Besides, I like the flowers. They work on you, or some shit.” His face felt warm, but he held his gaze steady, still smiling a little even as he tried to force it down. He was almost never this smiley. But being in Lorcan’s presence did that to him. He wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Alright,” was all he said before pressing the needle to Lorcan’s skin, glad when the man didn’t twitch or try to jerk away. It wasn’t really surprising, considering how many tattoos he already had, but it did make his job easier. Having to stop and calm people the fuck down was the worst part of the job. But fortunately he didn’t have to this time, and he fell silent, letting himself zone out of everything outside of what he was doing. It was easier to forget that he had his hands on this perfect stranger, the Cute Tattooed Florist he’d been thinking about for weeks, when they weren’t talking and he was able to focus, eyes flitting between the picture he was referencing and the slowly forming tattoo itself. He’d always had a habit of getting lost in whatever he was working on, and tattoos were never any different, eyebrows furrowed, biting his lip subconsciously, hands only every so often pushing or nudging gently to get Lorcan to shift slightly to where he needed.

The tattoo was small, and the entire process didn’t take very long before Hugo was withdrawing, turning the tattoo machine off and setting it away, still keeping his fingers pressed to Lorcan’s side for the time being just in case he needed him to stay still for a second longer. And he huffed out a breath before moving back to inspect his work. “There, all done,” he said softly, finally removing his hand from where it’d been on Lorcan’s side, steadying him while he worked. It was probably fucking terrible, but he instantly regretted the loss of contact, and he paused a second, hand hovering there, before catching himself and bringing his hands back to wipe his palms on his jeans. “You can, uh — make sure the shitty apprentice didn’t fuck it up, I guess,” he said, getting a handheld mirror so that he could more easily check it out without having to learn any contortionist tricks. “In case you don’t trust me.” He grinned. But he hadn’t fucked it up, of course. Thank fuck. Hugo was pretty sure that would have fucking killed any chance he may have had with this guy.

come just as you are to me
© wyatt
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