Thin Skinned [Boy x Boy]

Chapter 31

Horn P.O.V

Cuts has been having nightmares more often. Nightmares aren't a new thing for him, but normally they're more spaced out than this. Now, he's having one at least every other night. It makes me worry.

"Maybe you should tell Dr. Ginnings about this," I suggest, handing Cuts a cup of tea.

He's so tired that his hands are shaking. He's forced to set the cup down to avoid dropping it. Cuts is very sleep deprived at the moment.

"What will she do? Put me on sleeping pills?" he asks. "I'd rather not do that."

I sit down next to him and pull him close. I run my fingers through his hair and sigh softly.

"You just need to be able to sleep peacefully. The stress is terrible for you," I tell him.

Cuts is already half asleep in my arms. He's practically exhausted. I continue to play with his hair as he sleeps, hoping that he won't jolt himself awake from another nightmare.

People say you can't have the same dream twice, which isn't exactly true. Cuts has been having the same nightmare, with only minor differences. The outcome is always the same.

I stopped selling drugs as soon as his nightmares started. I lied to Cuts again about selling, but I just wanted to have some extra money that we could rely on if necessary. Hopefully, Cuts will never find out the truth, although I'm not all that good at lying to him.

After about half an hour, Cuts wakes up from another one of his violent nightmares. I console him, reassuring him that it was only a dream and that I would never let anything like that happen to him.

"I'm sorry," Cuts says softly while laying his head on my chest.

"It's okay, you can't help it," I tell him, running my fingers through his hair.

He sighs and closes his eyes. If I could be there when he dreams, I would be. I would help him escape that awful dream. I would help him get to the lobby, presumably the safest place to be during his nightmare. Unfortunately, I can't enter his dream. I can only help from the real world.

Cuts remains asleep for the rest of the night. I manage to get a bit of rest as well. I haven't been able to get my regular ideal amount of rest, but I suppose I should get used to it now. It won't be much different when Cuts and I have a child.

I wake up late and sigh. The tattoo shop isn't that strict about time and would just now be opening. I'm sure everything will be fine.

I get dressed quickly, ignore the thought of getting food, and I'm out the door. By the time I get to the shop it's been about half an hour since it opened.

"Hey, Horn, you okay?" Kit asks, seeing that I've finally arrived.

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm late, my fiancé has been having trouble sleeping for the last week so it's rubbing off on me too," I explain while taking my position behind the desk.

"It's fine. We're not really busy in the morning anyway."

I nod and check over the day's appointments. We're not very packed today at all. Normally we have almost double this number of appointments. Although, it is the middle of the week and people are probably busy doing other things.

"Hey, if you want you could come back and practice your skills," Kit suggests.

"Really?" I ask in a bit of disbelieve.

"Sure. It's not like sitting at a desk will do you any good. You've been observing for a several weeks. We might as well let you try," he says with a laugh.

Kit leads me to the back and helps me set up a station. There are many different colors and shades of ink. It's practically an artist's dream; a permanent piece of artwork that is on the most unique canvas ever created; skin.

"Now remember, this is practice, but one day, it'll be skin. If you make a mistake, there's no erasing it. Live with your fuck ups and make them look intentional," he says while patting me on the shoulder.

The feeling is almost surreal. I knew this day would come eventually, but I never thought it would happen so soon. It gives me hope that I'll start tattooing even sooner than expected.

I sketch out a quick design on the faux skin. I see artists do it all the time before they start working. Before I know it, I'm dipping the needle of the gun in ink over and over again. It feels good to be gaining this valuable experience.

I properly wrap the area I just worked on and smile to myself. Kit saw it before I wrapped it and said it looked good. Hopefully, Cuts will like it too. I take a picture on my phone of the tattoo so he'll be able to see it.

I continue working behind the front counter for the rest of the day. The more practice I get, the sooner I'll be able to give real tattoos. I'll probably do the first one on myself.

After my shift, I head home to show Cuts my first tattoo. I hope he'll like it, or at least find it interesting. It's rather untraditional.

Cuts is laying on the couch when I arrive. I sit down next to him and smile.

"What did you do at work today?" he asks.

"My first tattoo, on the practice material," I tell him, pulling up the picture.

On the material is a detailed honeycomb design with shading that makes it look like it's actually a part of my skin. I think it's a cool optical illusion. Cuts, however, turns his head and gags.

"Oh God, Babe, why did you do that?" he asks, refusing to look at it.

"I did it myself and I thought it looked cool," I tell him.

"It's holes and it's in the skin," he says with a cringe.

I didn't realize at the time that Cuts' trypophobia would cause him to greatly dislike this design.

"Please, don't repeat this on your skin," he begs softly.

"Fine."