Chapter Text
The Story of How Robert Got His Tattoo Part 1 by Kinkyarkhive
Robert was too old to watch the sun rise in the morning after a long night and too young still to make a conscious decision to get up early enough to witness it. And still here he was and could watch how the light slowly crept through the blinds. He rather covered his eyes back up with his left arm thrown over his face. Mornings have never been something to look forward to, a new day never meant something good. And yet -
The copious amount of alcohol he had consumed a couple hours before were now only running sluggishly through his system. He was still buzzed in a good way, but it would soon tip over into the bad way and there was nothing really he could do about it, except finally sign up to the life of a full time alcoholic. It would have been a perfect moment to just drift off to sleep and embrace a good couple hours of unconsciousness and postpone facing the world for a little while longer. But that was impossible in the moment. He peeked out again under his arm to look to the right. The presence of the man sitting close enough by his side that his knee brushed against Robert’s hip made it entirely impossible. Joseph was at the moment barely the man he pretended to be and would again pretend to be as soon as the sun had fully risen. He was rid of his signature polo shirt and chinos, his blond hair a perfect mess and falling into his face, his pale skin was littered with marks in different shades of red to purple, none placed in any way that would not be able to be perfectly covered up. As always Joseph looked effortlessly young and handsome for his age, confident and relaxed, as he sat crosslegged and naked on the bed. Robert wanted to keep this image forever - as removed from the youth pastor except for the golden cross necklace around his throat as he could possibly be. Between his hands he held Robert’s right in a grip that suggested it could tighten up to a trap if Robert would only dare to move. Aside from the regular swish of waves, the first seagulls squaking and the noise of the harbor coming to life, the buzz of the tattoo gunwas the loudest for Robert.
It had been a stupid idea, a joke really at the beginning. That weird symbol that popped up again and again on Joseph’s stuff. Robert so far had not gotten a good answer on what it was supposed to be, where it came from. Joseph was being obnoxiously mysterious about it, said it was something passed down and special to him. Passed down by who exactly stayed a mystery Robert didn’t quite care to explore.
It marks my property, Joseph had said, with the wine glass against his stained red lips as.
Then you should mark me with it, Robert had said, nose scrunching up with every sip of wine he was taking - he would prefer whiskey, but he had forgotten to bring a new bottle.
Hmm, I could do that, Joseph had said, suddenly the lush amusement had disappeared from his voice as he looked down on Robert, who sat between his legs on the floor. Robert’s bones had already started hurting a while ago, but the position was way to nice. Whenever he wanted he could turn his head to the side and bite into the tender flesh of Joseph’s inner thigh, or wrap his mouth back around Joseph’s cock and get another round out of him.
Robert chuckled, too drunk to notice how the mood had shifted all of the sudden. You would like that, wouldn’t you? Already while he said it the words grew heavy in his mouth, as he looked up and locked eyes with Joseph.
It had started as a joke, but now he realized that Joseph hadn’t been joking (just like he never really joked about anything) and even worse Robert realized that he himself wasn’t joking, that a monumental ache spread through his chest just from the mere thought of having something on his body that would irrevocably and forever mark him as something that was Joseph’s.
Joseph had been working on it for over half an hour now - of course, in his endless arsenal of surprising talents, knowing how to use a tattoo machine and owning the equipment still to this day, was one of them. It could be chalked up the obscure years Joseph alluded to every once in a while in which he travelled the world and was anything but the nice, cool youth pastor in the sleepy suburbs. The procedure didn’t apply to any strict hygienic standards, but Robert was occupied with different things at the moment. He had some ill advised encounters with a tattoo gun before, the result being a collection of youthful follies that would always make a good story. Now he was sure he could never set a foot into a tattoo parlor without being reminded of this exact moment. In general Robert was a man of simple pleasures, but this might be one of the hottest experiences in his life. He closed his eyes again, forced himself to breath through and not watch Joseph, but involuntarily his attention was drawn back to him again and again. The serious concentration on his face, the tight line his mouth was drawn in, his entire focus on Robert - or well, on Robert’s hand as he free handed his personal signature forever on his body - was just too good.
Robert’s heart was was steadily picking up its pace, there was no way Joseph couldn't feel his pulse running a marathon under his fingers. Robert didn't care. While usually the possibility of showing even remote signs of weakness revolted against everything in Robert, with Joseph he hadn’t cared from the first ill-advised evening they had spend together. When Robert couldn't stop from teasing the pretty, uptight youth pastor with a faint hope of having a good night with him - absolutely counting in that the thought of fucking a tragically closeted man of God was probably more exciting than the sex would be in the end. He had been surprised for the first time that evening when Joseph proofed to be witty, charming and full of interesting stories. He had been surprised a second time when Robert had been the one left a sobbing mess bent over Joseph’s office desk. Ever since than it had been a slippery slope downwards into the enticing trap that was Joseph and the man he turned out to be behind closed doors.
The pain slowly increased with every time Joseph scraped the needle over the same spot, the skin on the back of his hand not thick enough that it didn’t feel like scratching over the bone directly. His eyes flicked to the cloth that had been baby blue at one point but was now black and red. It took only a second until it was again only Joseph he could pay attention to. Even though it was painful it spread heat from his hand, up his arm and further - as if the buzz of the needle spread over his whole body. Robert drew in a shaky breath and it escaped him with the faintest moan again. To prevent this from happening again he bit his bottom lip. Everything that disturbed this very loud silence between them, felt like an affront. His hand twitched involuntarily and immediately Joseph’s hand locked around his wrist in an iron grip that would add to the collection of bruises that already adorned his body, if he wouldn’t let go again soon. Softly the other clicked his tongue like you would reprimand a spooked animal, before his grip eased up again and circles were drawn on his wrist with a gentle thumb.
»Robert, please, I don’t want to mess this up.«, Joseph absentmindedly mumbled while staying focused on his work that was a good halfway done by now. His voice had that deep cadence that suggested that Robert should better stay perfectly still now. It was the voice you wouldn’t hear from him outside of the safe confines of the bedroom, completely different than the cheery, light people’s person voice he usually employed. It send a hot shiver down his spine. It didn’t help the tiniest bit.
Fuck, you have such a big fucking problem, Robert. This whole situation - no matter how utterly ridiculous - had his head spinning. No matter what would happen in the future, no matter if he went back home now, back to his every day life and those intimate, private moments with Joseph would feel like nothing but a dream until his phone would ring again with a new message, this wouldn’t go away now. This was something he could keep. Proof in a way. For no one but himself.
And the worst part was that he still didn’t care at all. He tried to shift as best as it was possible on the crumpled up sheets without moving his right arm in any way or shape. It just turned into him squirming on the bed a bit without getting any relieve in one way or another. Glancing down on himself he could see that he was already more than halfway hard again, his cock arching up to his belly bottom and demanding attention. Robert bit his bottom lip to keep a new moan in and squeezed his eyes shut. It hadn’t been long enough that Robert couldn’t still feel the sore, empty stretch that Joseph filling him up left behind, the wet mess between his thighs had barely dried up and left his skin itchy. And yet Robert could already barely think straight anymore with the sheer need to roll over and present himself to Joseph, beg him to please fuck him again, to mark him in a million more ways and claim him in a way Robert sadly couldn’t keep. It would be so easy, he was still loose enough that it would be no problem at all, he’d be able to slip right in. Alone the mental image got his hole to clench around nothing.
»Robert, look at me. Take your arm away.«, Joseph ordered, quietly but firmly, and Robert couldn’t help but immediately obey. He let his arm slide from his face above his head, fisted the soft material of the pillow for some remote sense of stability and turned his head towards Joseph, who had for now stopped his work. Even in the faint light only coming from the small bedside table lamp Joseph was using to illuminate his work and the first lazy sunbeams filtering in, there was undeniably an amused glimmer in the other’s eyes.
»Joseph-! P-please…«, Robert panted, he just couldn’t keep still anymore, the tremor going through his body now surely messing with Joseph’s work. If it hadn’t been clear so far with their whirlwind affair, Robert was absolutely loosing his mind.