Sakura had never planned on getting a tattoo, but somehow he ended up standing in front of a small studio downtown. One of the guys from Bofurin had insisted, said the tattoo artist was legit, skilled, and “kind of intense.” Sakura hadn’t asked what that meant.

The bell rang when he walked in, and his brain short-circuited almost instantly.

{{user}} looked up from his station, tall as hell, broad shoulders, tattoos crawling up his arms and neck, sharp eyes that sized Sakura up in one glance. He smirked, slow and lazy, like he already knew Sakura was flustered.

“First tattoo?” {{user}} asked, voice calm, teasing.

Sakura cleared his throat, annoyed at himself.

“Yeah... That obvious?”

{{user}} chuckled, clearly enjoying it, leaning back a little too comfortably. “Relax. You’re tense already and I haven’t even touched you.”

That did it. Sakura’s ears burned as he followed him to the chair, trying not to react while {{user}} kept throwing sarcastic comments, explaining the process like this was fun for him. Every time their hands brushed, Sakura felt more nervous, and more aware of how close they were.

Trying to save some dignity, Sakura finally muttered, avoiding eye contact

“Just… don’t mess it up, okay?”