Page 24 of Viking Ink

“No problem with me,” Tate mumbled, half dozing. He was one of those lucky few who found the whole process of being tattooed relaxing. More than a couple of times he’d dozed off only for me to wake him when I was done.

Rhys watched as I worked, occasionally asking a question as to what I was doing. I didn’t mind his questions, as I loved talking about my work. Tattooing wasn’t just a job to me, it was a passion, and I strived to make every piece I did something special. Even with the run-of-the-mill roses and skulls that were the bread and butter of most tattoo stores, I always tried to add my own flair.

I saw Rhys looking over to where Mitch was working on Cal’s chest. “Mitch is doing the outlining today, and then he’ll work on the colour next time. He’s nearly finished, if you want to go chat with him.”

Rhys hummed thoughtfully, looking at the colourful flash and pictures of our work that hung from the store’s walls. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough to have a tattoo, but do you think Mitch would pierce my ear for me?”

I shot him a smile. “You are plenty brave, and getting inked isn’t something you rush into. But I’m sure Mitch would be more than happy to pierce your ear if you wanted.”

Rhys grinned at my answer and went back to my desk, and soon he was once again absorbed in colouring the pages of flash I’d given him. Forty-five minutes later I was cleaning up Tate’s ink, ready to call it a day. Stretching, I turned to look for Rhys, but he wasn’t at the table. I saw him sitting with Mitch, their heads close together in conversation.

I was glad Rhys was feeling comfortable. I wanted him to feel at home and see the boys as part of a new extended family. I’d given up, in the space of a day, thinking that this was just a good deed. I was helping a man in need, yes, but there was something else there, a chemistry, and I would kick myself if I didn’t at least attempt to find out what it could lead to. But I wasn’t going to rush headlong into anything—Rhys deserved better. I found myself looking forward to taking my time getting to know him, beyond the tempting, beautiful flashes of his personality I’d seen—as a friend first. I wanted to be a positive force in Rhys’s life. It was obvious those had been in damn short supply.

When my station was clean I stood and stretched, relishing the pop of my tired joints. I made my way over to where Mitch and Rhys were. Rhys turned his head as I approached and smiled.

“Mitch is going to give me my first piercing.”

Mitch gave a shrug. “Nothing drastic, just a small stud for his first one. Might try to convince him to get an industrial, next.”

Rhys made a hissing sound and shuddered. “No way. Those look painful.” His smile turned bashful as he looked at me, “I said I wanted to wait until you finished up. You know, moral support.”

“You want to do it today?”

“Well, I got a job, found a home, and got my first ever phone. It’s a day for firsts. So I kind of thought one more would kind of round out the day. And I maybe needed you to hold my hand,” he said with a slight blush.

I crossed my arms, looking at Mitch. “Mitch will be gentle with you, won’t you, Mouse?”

“Mouse?” Rhys asked.

Mitch sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, he’s fond of nicknames. And of course I’ll be gentle with him.”

“All right then, let’s get Mitch to work his magic.”

The piercing took only a few minutes. Rhys nervously reached out for my hand when Mitch pushed the needle through, giving a little eep. Once it was done, though, he beamed as he looked into the mirror Mitch held. It was a tiny stud, but I could see it meant something bigger to Rhys—another step towards becoming his own man.

“Do you like it, Sy?” Rhys asked as he slid off the chair and moved towards the full-length mirror.

“I do. But more importantly do you like it?” I asked.

“I do. I love it.” Rhys bounced lightly on his toes as he looked at himself in the mirror, the small stud catching the light and glinting merrily.

Before we left the shop, Rhys ran over to my desk. Cautioning him to walk was on the tip of my tongue but I bit the impulse back, seeing the knowing smirk on my brother’s face.

Rhys had gathered up the sheets of flash he was colouring in his hand. “I haven’t finished them, but maybe if I come back I can?” He ducked his head.

“Of course. You know you can come here anytime. But you know, I think I have a nice set of pencils up at the flat if you want to keep colouring.”

“Thank you!” Rhys bounced on the toes of his feet happily.

“Why don’t you head up to the flat? I have to talk to Mitch. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Okay. I’ll put the kettle on.” Rhys disappeared out the door, still clutching the sheets of flash.

Turning back, I looked at my brother, who was wearing a smug smirk. “What?’

“You like him.”

“Of course, I do. He’s a great kid.” I said, somewhat defensively. I had a creeping notion that was not what my brother meant at all.

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