On Pins & Needles

Chapter 3

As planned, Alastor showed up bright and early the day of his appointment, having followed all of Angel's guidelines to prepare himself. He got into the shop just before 11 a.m. and found his artist already waiting for him, chatting with a characteristically-energetic Natalie.

"Al, hey," Angel said with a smile as he approached the desk. He was wearing shorts today, and thigh-high socks, leaving just a little skin exposed between the two. "C'mon back, I got everything set up already." As they were headed to his room, he added, "I'll get your okay on the design 'n' we can go from there. Hope you're ready for a long day; you're gonna be sore as hell by the end of this."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Alastor chuckled. He found Angel had indeed set up his tools for their session beside the black leather chair (though it was more like a table that could be adjusted for different angles) toward the center of the room. In addition to his pink stool, there was a rolling tool tray covered in plastic wrap and holding several empty inkpots, a handful of still-packaged needles, tissues, and what Alastor supposed was liquid soap, along with a few other odds and ends he didn't really recognize.

"So?" Angel retrieved his finalized printed design from the counter and handed it over to Alastor for his approval. "Whaddaya think?"

To say he was impressed would've been a massive understatement. If he'd thought the preliminary sketch was nice, the completed design must be absolutely perfect. The lines were clean and striking, the realism—from the stag to its antlers to the flowers scattered through them—was on-point, and there was certainly no lack of visual interest.

"Angel, this is amazing," Alastor said plainly, enjoying the smile that spread across the artist's face. "All this detail, and the composition—it's even better than what I was imagining."

"Aw, go on," Angel said, waving a hand at him bashfully. "Ya don't hafta say all that just for my sake. For real, if there's anything there, you're not happy with—"

"No," Alastor cut in with a firm shake of his head. "It's perfect. I wouldn't change a thing."

The blond's grin only widened as he took the paper back. "If you're sure. I'm gonna go get my stencil made, so you can go ahead 'n' get comfortable." He gestured at the chair, stealing a glance at the skin left exposed by Alastor's partially-unbuttoned shirt before sweeping out of the room. As instructed, Alastor removed his shirt to put it aside and settled into the chair to wait. There was music playing from somewhere, he now noticed, the energetic sort one might hear in a club, but it wasn't loud enough to make him uncomfortable.

The first portion of the appointment went about the way he expected. Angel came back to the room and took his seat to finish getting his setup together. The two of them chatted about work while he went through the process of prepping Alastor's skin and applying the stencil, giving the brunet just a slight chill as his gloved hands patted the paper into place. While it was setting, he laid out the various shades of black ink he would need for the day's session, explaining the process aloud while Alastor was content to listen.

"So, I prob'ly don't hafta tell ya this, but I'm gonna go over it just in case," Angel said as he was carefully peeling away the stencil paper and inspecting it to be sure the design had transferred properly. "This's gonna hurt, but you're gonna hafta focus on stayin' as still as possible. Ya even gotta pay attention to your breathin'. I mean, make sure you are breathin', but do whatcha can to keep it controlled so ya don't end up movin' too much."

"I understand," Alastor said with a nod. "I won't make your job any harder than it already is."

"Hey, you're the one that's gotta wear it," the artist snickered, finally opening up one of the needles to attach it to a surprisingly small, pen-shaped handle. Noticing Alastor looking, he explained, "I know, it doesn't look real traditional, but it's way easier to handle. Plus, no wires to trip over."