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dominimoonbeam · 2 years

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The Truth In Your Skin - 7

The Tattoo AU continues!! David/Darlin, Milo/SH, Asher/Huxley

If you want to read it from the start it’s on ao3.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, scars, reference to past domestic abuse, developing relationships, learning to trust, found family

The Truth In Your Skin - Chapter 7

Sweetheart had been living in his apartment for two weeks. There was no more talk of looking for their own place and Milo was happy about that.

They’d had a whole conversation about how to handle hook ups with a one-bedroom apartment. Sweetheart had said they’d go home with whoever if they were hooking up solo rather than bring them back to his place. Milo knew that made sense, but he didn’t like it. He’d never liked the idea of Sweetheart going home with a stranger, but he couldn’t really say that.

He’d planned to hold his tongue until one of those nights when Sweetheart was looking to leave the bar with someone and then make up some bullshit about going to Asher’s for something and say they could use his place. But that hadn’t happened. Sweetheart and Milo either went home together or they brought someone back together.

Milo had mentioned it to Asher and Ash had laughed and told him they were dating. Milo shot back that Asher didn’t know shit about relationships but Asher had smugly pointed out that even if he didn’t know much about the ocean, he sure as shit knew when he was looking at it.

Milo had been stewing on that the whole day at work.

He and Sweetheart had already fallen into morning routines. They showered together, usually fucked in the shower, and then got ready in that tiny bathroom together. Their things were all over his apartment, intermingling with his, and he loved it. He knew Sweetheart liked it too, because otherwise they wouldn’t do it. He could always trust Sweetheart to be honest like that.

Milo was startled out of his thoughts when Sweetheart jumped into the chair in front of him, the leather squeaking. “Hey! What the fuck you thinking about so hard?” they asked.

They were both between clients, voices and music thrumming from the main room, but the two of them alone. He smiled and rolled his stool up to the chair, his hand sliding up their thigh. “You.”

Sweetheart laughed leaning forward for a quick kiss, their piercings clicking his before they leaned back again, stretching in that chair like they didn’t know where that always sent his thoughts. He remembered every piercing he’d given them, always after hours, dragging it out. Touching, teasing, flirting, long before ever getting to work. “What? Trying to figure out how to get me out of your apartment?”

His hand flexed on their thigh when they came so close to his thoughts and yet so off center.

Sweetheart’s eyes widened a fraction, that lazy, flirty look vanishing. “Oh shit.”

“No,” Milo said, trying to cut them off.

Sweetheart sat forward, if the chair didn’t have a leg rest they probably would have jumped up. “I can get my stuff—”

“No,” Milo laughed, shaking his head and squeezing their thigh again, this time to remind them that they were not going to get out of this chair and make a run for it. They’d probably dash back to the apartment and start untangling their life from his. The idea made him sick. “No. That’s not what I was thinking at all!”

“You promised to tell me, you dick!” Sweetheart swatted his arm. “You said if I was overstepping or staying too long—”

“You’re not! I love having you at my place. You know that.” He laughed, leaning closer, his chest almost touching theirs. “How can you not know that?” He slid his hand over their thigh, between them and higher until he was rubbing against them and they were dragging in a deep breath. “After this morning?” he spoke lowly, just between them, under the umbrella of sounds in the other room. “After I fucked you into the shower wall and we probably woke up the whole building?”

Sweetheart twitched, one hand on his shoulder and hips rocking against his hand. “M-Milo… Seriously… You have to tell me—”

“I want you,” he said, hoping they heard all the certainty in his voice. “I want you in my life and my home and my bed. I want you in my shower and in your car and sometimes in the bathroom at the bar…”

Sweetheart groaned. “Do…Do you want to pretend we’re going to go get lunch?”

Milo grinned, brushing his mouth against theirs. “Where are we really going?”

Sweetheart kissed him hard and then shoved him back, jumping out of the chair. “We’re going around back and you’re going to use that mouth to get me off in the car. If you’re really fucking good, I’ll repay the favor…”

Milo groaned. Yes, life with Sweetheart was good and he honestly hoped they’d never move out.

“Just invite him,” David growled.

Asher whined, taking ages to clean up his station.

David was almost done with the piece he was doing on this guy’s shoulder. If he wasn’t working, he probably would have stormed out by now. Asher had retold the grand story of how he ran into Huxley last week and they hung out at some café until dawn at least four times today. David had, of course, already heard the story when he came home that morning and several times since.

Asher was in agony over whether or not to invite Huxley to the get together at the apartment tonight. Was it too soon? Was he supposed to wait for Hux to make a move? David had turned the music up to drown out his best friend but it hadn’t worked.

At least Darlin had laughed.

They seemed to think this was hilarious.

Everyone Asher had told his story to had agreed that he should invite Huxley. Finally, when he was done cleaning up and it was almost too late to fucking ask, Asher sent off a text. David thought his friend had waited that long to create the possibility that the other man couldn’t go because of some very valid, not at all because he doesn’t like Asher, reason. Like it being too fucking short notice!

“There. I sent it!” Asher declared and then slammed his phone down on his station like it had attacked him. He spun in his chair, anguishing.

Darlin watched, smiling.

David focused on his work, but didn’t miss the way Milo and Sweetheart ran off to go get lunch like their lives depended on a sandwich. Like they didn’t all know what they were up to.

David didn’t mean to catch Darlin’s eye, but he did, and to his surprise they shared a knowing smirk about Sweetheart and Milo.

Asher’s phone chimed and vibrated, somehow louder than the music.

Asher almost screamed. He rolled his chair up to his station to look at the phone without touching it, like it might bite.

David focused on the last touches to this tattoo and asked his client how he was doing.

“He’s coming!” Asher shot up from his chair.

Darlin laughed. “You really thought he wouldn’t?”

Asher spun around to look at them. “I mean, he could have been busy!”

Darlin raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Asher was the only one who didn’t see the obvious appeal of Asher. He didn’t have any trouble flirting and jokingly gloating about his own beauty, but David knew he didn’t believe any of it. And maybe that was the real reason he hadn’t really thrown a fit about Asher telling the same damn story over and over again, because this was the first time he’d ever seen him this bent out of shape over someone.

And it didn’t escape David’s notice that Asher and Huxley hadn’t hooked up—that in that first telling of the story when he got home that morning, Asher had been floored by the moment Huxley asked him to go get midnight pancakes rather than a quick fuck. He’d left that out of all the other retellings, either he’d realized what he was saying about himself and his feelings, or he’d only ever meant to tell David about it from the start.

David finished with his client. His schedule was packed today and he had the next one already waiting on the sofa in the front room.

“Do you want me to grab you lunch?” Darlin asked, throwing on their jacket. They smirked. “Actual lunch though, not whatever Milo is up to…”

David laughed, cleaning up his station. “Yeah, do you mind?”

Darlin shook their head. “I’ve got an hour until my next client. I’ll grab a bag of tacos and leave it in the break room.”

“Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”

Darlin snorted.

“Are you coming over tonight?” he asked before they were out the door.

Darlin paused, seeming to decide on the spot. They shrugged. “Yeah.”

He nodded and they left.

David felt Asher staring at him and when he looked up, sure as shit there he was grinning big. “What did Huxley say?” David asked, his friend still clutching his phone in both hands.

Asher jumped a little at the question, thoughts refocused. He hurried over to show David his screen.

Emojis.

Dorks.

Asher headed up to the apartment first that night. David still had a client in his chair and would be late, which meant Asher got to order the food.

Darlin followed him up and Gavin was waiting at the apartment door, on his phone and grinning.

He let them both in. Gavin didn’t take his eyes off his phone, walking to the counter and perching on a stool. “Can I invite a new friend?” he asked while texting someone.

Asher laughed, opening the fridge to pull out a few beers and pass them around. “Yeah. Of course. I think most of our friends came from you…”

“All the good ones,” Gavin said and then took his eyes off his phone to regard Darlin. He smiled. “With a few exceptions.”

Darlin shrugged. “I’m not good,” they assured.

Gavin’s smile grew. “That’s what makes you good.”

Asher opened the high cupboard and started pulling down the liquor bottles and sleeves of plastic cups and shot glasses. He liked the way their friends got along.

“Did you invite the big guy?” Gavin asked, putting his phone down and his chin in his palm.

Darlin nursed a beer and let Asher answer with a shrug.

“Ash…Do not tell me you chickened out again.”

“I didn’t! I asked! He might show up.”

Darlin snorted. “Might… He said he was coming.”

“I bet he’s coming… Coming all over that big hand thinking about—”

“Holy shit, Gav!” Asher shoved his shoulder. Gavin rocked to the side and accidentally into Darlin’s beer, bouncing it and splashing the front of their t-shirt which had the misfortune of being mostly white.

“Oh shit,” Asher rounded Gavin to grab a kitchen towel.

“It’s fine,” Darlin said.

“Sorry,” Gavin said. “Do you want to trade shirts?”

Darlin snorted at the tight, mesh top Gavin was wearing. “I don’t think yours would fit me.”

“I think it would fit you great…”

“I might as well just not wear a shirt.”

Gavin grinned. “That’s an option.”

Darlin put their beer down. “No, it’s not.”

Sweetheart, Milo, and their friend Lasko walked into the apartment, mid-conversation.

Asher tried to help with the shirt, but it had a big splotch of beer down the front. He could almost see the shape of the dark tattoo underneath. A letter?

Darlin took a step back. “I’ll go change and be back later.”

Asher caught their wrist before they could bolt. If they left, they might not come back. He would have absolutely fucked this night up for David and Darlin—or whatever chance there was of David and Darlin. “Wait. Just use one of mine.”

“Asher!” Milo called from the living room. “Did you order food yet? We’re dying.”

“I thought you had a big lunch?” Asher snapped back, smiling but not letting go of Darlin’s wrist. He looked at them again. “Seriously. My room’s right down the hall. Just take any shirt you want.”

Darlin hesitated before relaxing a fraction and nodding.

Asher beamed. Fuck yes! He had saved the day! He was on a damn roll. He let go of Darlin and pulled his phone out. “Okay, pizza from that place with the really cute delivery guy and this time we’re going to get him to stay. I can just feel it!”

David locked up the shop and went around to the front of the apartments. He wasn’t surprised to see Huxley there, a little confused since he’d never been to their place before. David greeted him and showed him up. He was nice, really nice, in a way that he couldn’t help but like for his best friend.

Their apartment was already in full swing when David led the way in. Music was playing and multiple conversations were competing with one another, but he didn’t miss the moon eyes Asher and Huxley shot each other before he headed down the hall to his room to change.

He pushed the door open and jerked to a stop, half in the light of the hallway and half in the shadow of his bedroom.

Darlin was there, one of his t-shirts in their hands and their own on the floor at their feet.

They both froze, staring at one another.

Even in the blue dimness of the room, he could see the flow of those watercolor tattoos stroking down one side of their body before his gaze snagged on the rough black lines of a tattoo that seemed to be carved rather than inked into the side of their abdomen.

His hand tightened on the doorknob.

It was…violent. It looked painful even though it was healed. Had the needle left scars? Was there any chance in hell that they’d picked that tattoo? That it had been a part of their plan? No.

He jerked his gaze away, snapping his head forward and almost pressing his temple to the door. He thought about walking out, closing the door, and pretending he hadn’t seen it. He could stop looking, but he couldn’t forget what he’d seen.

He hesitated, caught in limbo between the sound and joy of the party down the hall and the shadows in that quiet bedroom. “Can I come in?” David asked, voice hard in his throat.

Darlin didn’t pull on the shirt they were holding. They just stood there, their breathing a little fast but other than that, giving nothing away. “Yeah. Okay.”

David stepped into his own room and closed the door. He flicked on the lights and took off his jacket, tossing it on his bed, just like he might have if they weren’t there.

“I’m sorry. I thought this was Asher’s room. He said I could grab a shirt…” They looked at the one in their hands, hesitating over it now that they’d realized it wasn’t Asher’s and hadn’t been offered.

“That’s okay. Take it,” he said, taking steps closer.

They didn’t pull the shirt on, but they didn’t put it back either.

“This is what you wanted covered?” David asked, but he didn’t look. He kept his eyes on their face. He wouldn’t look again until they said that he could.

Darlin exhaled and it almost sounded like relief. He supposed he understood. They wouldn’t have to show it to him now. It was already done. “Yeah.”

“Can I take a look, or would you rather do that at the shop sometime?”

Darlin smiled a little, it was thin but lighter than he’d seen before. “You can look at it. It’s… Well, it is what it is.”

David tipped his head to the side and slid his gaze down. The lines were rough and rushed. They had definitely left scars in some places where the needle had stabbed deep. He almost asked when they got it but that wasn’t the right question because Darlin didn’t go into some shop and get this shit put on their body. Someone had done this.

They were still holding onto his shirt, the fabric twisted in their fingers as if restraining their hands from trying to hide the tattoo. They shifted, turning slowly so that he could see all of it. David clenched his teeth to keep from making a sound. Two words, not one, folding from their front to their back on that side of their torso. They would never have been able to cover it themselves, no matter how good they might be.

The words alone should have been okay, maybe even romantic, but there was no missing the message in the strokes of the ink.

ALWAYS MINE

He couldn’t read those words on their skin, carved in anger, without thinking of the scar on their lip and the one on their temple. It took everything he had to keep his breathing even and not ball his hands into fists.

Everything else he had seen on their body had been done by their own hand. It was all cohesive, one tattoo touching the next, evolving. They had had a plan, which only made this violation worse. David couldn’t help imagining that the guy knew it too. Had Darlin been unconscious when he did it? Was it after the attack that had led to all those scars?

They shuddered out a breath, still looking only at the shirt twisted in their hands. “So, yeah, maybe a big black rectangle? Just cover the whole fucking thing, you know?”

He could hear the tears in their eyes even when they choked them back—maybe because they choked them back, because they were forcing that light who-gives-a-fuck tone. “Darlin…” David said, still standing so close that he could have whispered and been heard, but he spoke clearly because they needed to hear this. “You didn’t ask me to do it because you wanted a rectangle. You make art. You are art. And someone fucked up your canvas. Let me help you put it right again.”

Darlin’s chin snapped up and their eyes were on him, swimming with tears and something so breathlessly fragile that he knew it had surprised them to find it still there. It was like coming home after a tornado took the whole house and finding one perfectly untouched glass sitting in the rubble.

“Do you want to talk about it?” David asked.

“No,” they answered fast, a flash of fear in their eyes.

“Do you want a hug?” he asked.

Darlin sighed, naked shoulders slumping in defeat and a tear sliding down their cheek. “Yeah.”

It was the quietest yeah ever, but David heard it. He wrapped his arms around them, his palms on bare skin, and pulled them into him. They leaned in and exhaled hard when their face was against his shoulder. “Fuck…”

He smiled a little at that single all-encompassing word.

They stood like that for a long time, his fingers tracing up and down their back and some of their tears soaking into his shirt. When they finally pulled back, they dragged a deep breath and scrubbed the back of their hand over their face.

“Can I touch it?” David asked, wanting to get an idea of the scars, ideas for the cover up already rolling in his head.

Darlin snorted, somehow easier with him now than they’d ever been before. “Yeah. It’s pretty bad. If you don’t want to work on it I’ll under—”

“No. I’ll fix this,” he said, certain.

Darlin shuddered out another breath on a wobbly smile and shrugged. “Go ahead.”

He ran his hand over their side. He wouldn’t trace the words—wasn’t even willing to see them as words anymore. They were just lines, a mess of lines that had no right to be there. Darlin held their breath until his hand had passed from the tattoo. “I’ll come up with some sketches. If you want to keep this private, we can talk about it after hours instead of when everyone is around.”

Darlin blushed, shaking their head and pulling his shirt on. It was too big for them, but it looked good. Or maybe he thought it looked good because it was his… “We can talk about it whenever. It’s…It’s not really a secret or, I guess it is? Just not something I meant to make a secret, if that makes sense?”

David nodded. “Sure. Not exactly something you want to talk about.”

“Yeah.”

“But if you wanted to talk about it…”

“Yeah,” Darlin said quickly. “We should probably go before someone thinks we’re fucking around…”

David shrugged, changing his shirt and feeling them sneaking glances at him. He took his time. “I mean, you are wearing my shirt. As soon as Gavin notices that, it’s bound to come up.”

“Is Gavin really going to recognize your shirt?”

David smirked but led the way back out into the hall.

The party was busy trying to talk the pizza delivery guy into staying. They’d lured him a few steps into the apartment. Asher was hellbent on making friends with this guy and Milo and Sweetheart were hellbent on something else entirely. Gavin spent a full ten minutes being gobsmacked when he realized the guy’s name was actually Guy.

And then he noticed Darlin was wearing David’s shirt and his eyes nearly bugged out of his beautiful face.