“This is surely the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Kurt said, crossing his legs gingerly as he looked around the room in distate.
Blaine looked over from where he was spread out on the chair, his pants shucked down just enough to expose his hip bone.
The tattoo artist was poised ready, the needle hovering inches away from the skin, perhaps suspecting that things were about to unravel.
“What do you mean, the worst? I serenaded someone in the Gap, Kurt. In front of you. And you never let me forget it. Surely that was the worst.”
“Good point,” Kurt aquiesed. “But still, listening to anything Puck says is surely grounds for insanity.”
“Am I good to go?”
Blaine nodded quickly. “Yes, before I lose my nerve.”
Blaine tensed as he watched the needle get closer to his skin. God, what was he thinking? He should have done this on his back so he couldn’t see it. He was already freaking out and it hadn’t even touched him yet.
The needle descended smoothly and then with the practised ease of a professional, the tattoo artist began to trace the outline. Blaine couldn’t help the tiny flinch at the beginning, but he settled in to the movement.
Kurt leant over and offered his hand, which Blaine took eagerly, gripping it hard. Kurt chuckled.
Blaine bit his lip at a particularly painful press.
“A little,” he replied.
“Okay, I’m going to start filling it in now,” the guy said, and Blaine then realised why Puck had said this was the worst part. It was like tiny pinpricks of fire all over his skin, and there was no relief. It just kept getting worse and worse until Blaine felt his whole face flush. He swallowed heavily and gripped Kurt’s hand a little tighter, wincing when he felt a knuckle crack.
“So, why are you subjecting yourself to this again?”
Blaine closed his eyes, but somehow that made it worse. Opening them had him seeing the needle pressing into his red flesh, so he fixed his gaze on Kurt’s clear and calming eyes.
“Puck said that I wouldn’t be able to handle the pain.”
Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Really? That’s all it took? Blaine, I love that you still see Puck and are enjoying your final year while I’m not here. But honestly, you have got to learn to say no! I don’t want to field another call from my dad telling me that you and Puck have been given a warning by the police.”
Blaine wrinkled his nose at the reminder of that incident.
“To be fair, the slushie machine was still in working order when we returned it,” he offered. Kurt’s snort suggested that was not enough to make him forget it.
Just then the buzzing of the needle subsided and Blaine’s skin started to sting as he realised there was no longer anything touching him. The pain was over, although his body seemed a little slow to realise it.
Kurt squeezed his hand one last time before dropping it. He leaned all the way over so he could see the little black shape on Blaine’s hips.
“Oh my god, Blaine, did you just get our initials etched permanently onto your skin?”
His voice rose dramatically and Blaine knew he had little time to forestall him.
“I just wanted something to remind me of you while you’re gone?” he tried.
Kurt looked momentarily touched by that, but it wasn’t enough.
“And what happens if we break up?” he asked.
Blaine frowned at the thought. “We’re not going to,” he said.
“But what if we do?”
“Well, then I’ll have a reminder of my first love forever.”
Kurt couldn’t help but smile at that. “You are the biggest sap I’ve ever met. But I’ll keep you,” he said.
“Now, get up and listen to the nice man tell you how to keep it from getting infected. Of course you’d do something the weekend I’m back that means I can’t even get close to you.”
Blaine’s eyes widened in alarm. He hadn’t thought of that. Damnit, why hadn’t he thought of that?
Maybe he could convince Kurt that even if he had to lie very still, Kurt didn’t have to. It was worth he shot, he decided happily.