Who: Zee and Hunter What: A reunion Where: The tattoo shop where Zee works When: Recently? Warnings/Rating: Awkwardness. Descriptions of tattooing. UST? :-D
The shop wasn’t big, a little hole in the wall in a good place for walk-in customers but far enough from the craziness of the strip that Las Vegas regulars felt comfortable frequenting. More important than location though was the fact that it was clean. Well-lit, art on the walls, areas to sit near the front where the artists’ portfolio binders littered the tables, and clean. Zee would have refused to work there otherwise, no matter how comfortable he felt with his coworkers and customers. Combine everything, and it was possibly the best place he’d ever worked. He wouldn’t have put in the sorts of hours he did otherwise.
The steady buzz of the tattoo guns (not just his) filled the shop, an underlying hum that was so rattled into his bones that he could no longer live without it. The expanse of skin in front of him was the sort of pale that was almost like working on paper, and already had tracings of his own work along ribs and back. The customer was a marine whose fiancee had been at his first appointment, and between the two of them had wrung the story out of Zee when he asked if the man would be okay with “a friend” coming to the next appointment. After the full story was out (at least as much as he was willing to share), the man’s fiancee had insisted that it was more than alright, going as far as threatening to not marry the man if he refused. With laughter shot through with affection and adrenaline from the tattooing, he agreed, so Zee had given Hunter the date, time, and address for the shop. His stomach had been tense ever since, hoping that it wouldn’t turn into an awful situation all around.
Hunter wasn’t feeling great about this meeting either. He had a lot of hate for Zee way down deep, the kind of feeling he had for his father, the black betrayed feeling. It had a lot of how dare you and I was so stupid mixed in to all that bile and bitter, and for someone with few loves, Hunter found it hard to let go. Zee had hurt him and for a little while he’d just wanted to hurt him back. Now he wasn’t sure how he felt, but it wasn’t that stabbing anger. Maybe it was just his own hurt, he couldn’t tell. Now he had other hurts, little ones: the whiskey-burn worry about Maren that hung around in the back of his head, the burr prickles of guilt when he thought of Raegan, the long ache of missing his dog whenever he looked back and she wasn’t there.
Zee’s little pictures went a very long way, though. The one of the gas station, which Hunter thought he remembered, even that one helped, made Hunter remember the things he liked and not the blond in Zee’s bed. The picture of the dog hit Hunter pretty hard, not because it was Daisy, but because Zee was trying, trying when no one else was, when not even Hunter was still looking.
So Hunter brought an extra lime green slushie with him when he came into the shop, edging forward on dusty boots and looking around at the pictures of the ink on the walls.
Zee was usually able to ignore the little bell above the shop door that beat against itself whenever anyone came or went, but Zee was on edge, even while focusing on his work, and the tinny chime cut through all the other noise, straight to the part of his stomach that was tensed around itself. It gave a sick little swoop, and he tried for a steadying breath before pulling his hand away from the customer’s skin and looking over toward the door.
Hunter had never been pretty, not in the delicate way that Jules was, but Zee didn’t need that kind of pretty. It was nice when it passed through, but it was far from his mind when he looked over at the figure framed in the doorway. He knew he was staring, but it had been too many years, and he apparently still wasn’t prepared for familiar soft eyes in a face that had somehow changed in the space of their time apart. Zee felt the air slip from his lungs in a quiet whisper of “fuck me”, only startled out of staring when the marine in his chair laughed. “Well, get him over here then. And don’t go giving me hearts all over or anything.” Zee shook his laugh with a chuckle and a “serve you right if I did”, and then lifted his gloved hand just enough to grab Hunter’s attention.
Hunter turned away from his inspection of a photo that depicted a unicorn tattoo, a very slight smile on his face as he tried to imagine where said unicorn might be permanently frolicking on some unfortunate forty-year-old. He caught the motion in the back of the shop and, with a final glance to make sure the collie was behaving herself just outside the door, he ventured deeper into the shop, squinting to adjust to the lack of Vegas glare. He moved into the circle of the marine’s chair and gave the man’s friendly face a wary look before shifting to stare at Zee.
He had more ink than Hunter remembered, much more, but as before Zee seemed to exude hints of the exotic, like a tiger in roadside weeds. Hunter had never let anybody put ink on him, something about it seeming too permanent to get past his automatic objections, and therefore he felt pink and sunbleached in his green plaid and fitted jean. “Uh,” he said. “Hey.” He held out one of the plastic Big Gulps in Zee’s general direction from about four feet away. “Thirsty?”
The smile that Zee angled up at Hunter was uncertain, but still pleased. “Hey.” He took another moment to stare, probably too long as eyes took in skin and plaid and jeans that should not, in his opinion, be legal. He pushed himself back to professionalism as best he could and cleared his throat as he angled his eyes away and toward a nearby counter. “Thanks. Put it there? I can’t really touch anything right now.” He lifted his hands, both gloved and freshly washed beneath. As much as part of him might have wanted to take the cup right from Hunter, it would require another hand scrubbing and a new pair of gloves if he did. That done, he reached out a long leg and hooked a nearby rolling chair with a toe, pulling it closer and then nodding to the side. “Sit?” He knew he should likely try to make more conversation, but he was going to have a hard enough time balancing work with having Hunter there. Speaking of which... “Mike, Hunter. H, this is Mike.” Introductions made, he ducked his head and looked again at ink on skin, praying for things to go well.
“Oh. Right.” Hunter gave Mike a nervous look and faintly awkward smile that didn’t get far into one cheek, then shifted over to one side and set the oversize cup on a counter away from the chair. He stuck his fingers through his hair afterward and the condensation made the front of it stick up off his eyebrows. Hunter pulled down on the buttons at the front of his shirt so it actually made it over his hipbones, a shirt that he’d been plenty intentional about when he bought it, but a second later he rolled his shoulders up toward his ears in a nervous gesture and it was half-stomach and sunburned hips all over again. He watched the photos on the wall a second before looking back at Zee and then at his work. Hunter stood there for a while, not saying anything, and forgetting to sit down.
Zee had nervous tics, things he did without even thinking, especially when things were tense. Things like rubbing his face, the back of his neck, twisting at a piece of his hair when it was long enough. Nothing that he could do while working, even though his fingers itched for something other than the buzz of the gun. He kept breathing evenly through his nose, almost trying to ignore that Hunter was there, but it didn’t help when it felt like Hunter was hovering right over his shoulder. The chair remained empty for several minutes, and Zee tried to put that out of his mind, but he finally pulled back from his work again and cast a glance over at him.
The words died in his throat when the first thing he saw was bare hips between shirt and worn jeans. His eyes lingered there for longer than they should, and he swallowed hard as he forced them up, up, until they finally stopped in the vicinity of Hunter’s own eyes. With an obviously awkward clearing of of his throat, Zee tipped his head toward the empty chair. “Makin’ me nervous, H. Mike’s not gonna bite if you sit.” The joke fell flat, but he still waited for Hunter to take a seat.
The rhythm of the color and the lines interrupted by pauses to wipe at blood both disgusted and fascinated Hunter, and he locked his knees to watch the formation of such permanence with an uncomfortable awe. He twitched when Zee pulled back from his work, and Hunter automatically mirrored the movement with a retreat of shoulders and booted heels as the buzz stopped and the man stretched. He gave Zee a blank look, pulling at his shirt again when it was suddenly the object of much scrutiny. “Oh,” he muttered, embarrassed. “Sorry.” He worked his lip under his teeth and retreated to the wall where his own (red) slushie stood melting in its plastic. Realizing they both were watching him, Hunter picked it up, took a slurp, and sat very abruptly where he’d been told. He tried not to move after that, but of course his toe started to itch only seconds after he’d decided to stay still, and it was hard to scratch an itch with boots on. He wriggled.
Zee blinked in surprise when Hunter pulled back, uncertain why, but he watched Hunter's progress over to the chair, half a smile trying to take up residence on his face. There was something warm that was attempting to forge a place behind his ribcage at seeing Hunter again, but no - he had to focus on Mike and the tattoo. "You still see over there?" he asked, not wanting to ruin the reason for the visit, just to stop the hovering. He gave another swipe at the pale, inky skin in front of him while he waited for an answer, and then leaned over, glad for the straw in his own slushie as he performed a rather adept handless drink, cup remaining where it sat as he sipped. The taste was the same as it was in any of the gas stations and convenience stores he'd been in across the country, but the tart lime combined with the green of Hunter's shirt gave it a new meaning, a new memory.
In the chair, Hunter was trying to hold on to his increasingly slippery plastic cup and itch a toe without actually moving. “Uh,” he said, looking up. No, he couldn’t actually see, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He grew ever more uncomfortable as the seconds passed, his expression became darker as he picked up his usual defense against awkward situations: aggression. Mike was looking at him and Zee was looking at him, and after about two seconds in the hot seat, Hunter couldn’t stand being there anymore. He stood up abruptly, all long limbs and stretching plaid as he pulled at it. “I’m gonna wait outside.” And he beat a retreat back to the collie and the heat.
Zee startled back when Hunter stood so abruptly, watching his retreating back in shock. "What the hell...?" The murmur slipped out without thought, and after a moment he looked down at Mike, confusion clear in his expression. The man in his chair looked equally baffled, but it passed quickly with a wave and a significant look toward the door. After another blink and a shake of his head, Zee set the tattoo gun carefully off to the side and pulled off his gloves, tossing them inside-out into the trash. A quick, quiet comment to Mike, and he was stretching long legs to follow Hunter out the door, confused frown still obvious on his face.
He pushed out into the heat, hoping that Hunter hadn't gotten too far, really not feeling up to running in the Las Vegas heat. He would though, if he had to, and that was the part that made him shake his head at himself.
Hunter wasn’t far at all. The heat was bright and so oppressive that it sat on the skin like a blanket, and in the oozing liquid air Hunter sat on the brown grass in the shade of a struggling tree just at the end of the tiny parking lot. The white collie, who was slowly starting to take shape as something besides a large ball of dandelion fluff, was flopped next to him, panting. The man had an unlit cigarette in his mouth, but it was too hot to smoke, so he just sat there with it and poked the straw into his cup so it screamed like a saw.
Stopping up short in his chase, Zee stared at where Hunter sat at the edge of their lot. He'd honestly expected to have to go much farther to find him. The round of shoulders was familiar though, even without the hint of the plaid that covered them. He squinted against the too-hot sun and closed the distance at a slower pace. He eyed the four-legged fluff as he approached, and finally ended up as a skyscraper of a shadow falling across Hunter and half of the brown grass around him. He pitched his voice to carry over the grating sound of plastic on plastic, but not before he frowned again. "Hey..." He trailed off, wanting to ask if everything was alright, but not quite knowing what to say.
Hunter twitched, looking up and nearly losing the cigarette out of the corner of one mouth. The puppy was just learning discipline, and she knew she was supposed to stay put but her whole being quivered with enthusiastic curiosity at Zee’s entire being. “Uh,” Hunter said again, despairing even as he heard himself say it, “...hey.” He made as if to get up and nearly knocked the cup at his elbow over. “Sorry. I was in the way.” Hunter pointed over the puppy’s shoulder toward the shop, a gesture that she took as permission. She bounded up to Zee and circled around, sniffing everything in reach.
Hunter tried to avoid analyzing his feelings for this man. Of course Zee was hot, really hot, but then he’d always been. Hunter tried to find something about him that betrayed what he’d done, something that showed how much more he liked people like Jules and not people like... well, like him. There wasn’t anything. There was more ink, and he still had that sexy mouth and the dark eyes, but nothing that made Hunter think of betrayal.
The enthusiasm of the dog made Zee smile and crouch down, burying fingers in the fur behind its ears and scratching. “Hey, Fluff,” he murmured under his breath, fingers continuing their work as he switched his attention back over to Hunter. Eyes dark and thoughtful, still trying to ignore the nervous roll of his stomach, he shook his head. “Not in the way. That chair’s there for a reason. I get people watchin’ all the time.” His fingers had stilled while he spoke, and the collie pushed her head into his hand insistently. He smiled down at her, scratching her ears again, and kept his gaze on her when he continued. “It was just the standing right there that made me nervous. Can find you a place to sit that you can see if you want and hang out. ...don’t know about Fluff here, though. Could probably stash her in the back office if she’s good at being inside without eyes on her.”
He glanced up again and noticed Hunter’s eyes on him. It was probably fair, as he’d been doing his own share of staring since Hunter had walked in the door of the shop, but his face felt hot under the scrutiny. It took another few seconds and a clearing of his throat before he said anything else. When he did, the words came out low and warm. Warmer and fonder than they maybe should have. “Come back inside, H. We’ll find a good place for you.”
Hunter spread his heels out in the grass before him, glaring at the toe that itched at the worst times, catching bits of weed and tearing them out of the ground out of some childish destructive effort. He eyed the half-grown pup once it occurred to her to look back from her frolicking, just to let her know what he thought of her silly behavior and remind her who was in charge. She sat down, but didn’t forsake the scratching, and let her tongue loll out in a happy grin. Hunter sighed. Youth.
Awkwardly, Hunter ran his fingers through his hair again, working it back to reveal the habitual squint that hid the brown eyes so well. “No I mean. I’m in the way. I feel like I’m in the way. It’s cool. You go back and finish, s’okay. It looks really cool, so far.” Hunter took the cigarette out of his mouth and played with it at the ends of his blunt fingers, avoiding Zee’s gaze, hunching his shoulders.
Zee stopped petting the dog, lingering for a moment with his fingers still buried in fur before he pulled them away, pushing her back over toward Hunter with one hand. A frown started to spread across his face, and he shook his head once. "You're not. Not gonna make you come in if you don't want, but trust me, H. You're not in the way." He let the compliments drop because they weren't the important thing at the moment. Watching Hunter, he shifted to the side and pulled a lighter out of his pocket, something cheap and colorful that he'd picked up a few states away. He held it out between two fingers toward Hunter as an offering. "Don't want you sitting out here alone in the heat for the next few hours." The frown lingered as he tried to figure out what to do.
The collie snuffled into Zee’s hip and then wandered back to Hunter to stick a nose under his elbow and then sit again on the grass, tail wagging effusively. It was too hot to be effusive about anything, but it was fucking hot, and Hunter didn’t really want to sit out here. His forehead was already glistening, and the bit of fluff made the glare almost intolerable. Hunter tilted his chin up to one side, trying to get a look at Zee’s face without actually looking at him. “What did you tell them about me before I came?” It wasn’t an angry question, just a faintly worried one, a defensive set of his teeth and shoulders.
The question was unexpected in that moment, and Zee blinked as he put an answer together. "I. Nothing bad, H. That we were friends. More than. That I was an idiot, and you've been mad at me ever since, but that you'd agreed to come visit." The nervous tic finally came out, a hand rubbed against the back of his neck, coming away damp with sweat that was due to both the heat and a little bit of worry. "Told Mike and his lady that I was worried you'd bail on me. Probably wouldn't've been surprised if you did." He shifted his balance between toes as he stayed crouched down. "And it looks like you're thinking about it, but maybe not?"
Hunter shifted uncomfortably and then put a hand back to assist him in getting to his feet. He always felt more graceful on a horse than on land, feeling an excess of leg and bowed knees getting in the way whenever he really wanted to get anywhere. “I’ll come in for a little while, but I gotta get some water for the dog, okay?” Delicately he put two fingers out and plucked the lighter from Zee’s outstretched hand. Rolling the cigarette to the other side of his mouth, he looked up under his brows at the other man. Be cool, be cool. He snapped the lighter to life and lit the cigarette after a couple tries, anticipating that Zee would want it back.
Zee watched as Hunter stood again, following suit so that he wasn't crouched awkwardly in front of him. "Yeah, of course." He looked down at the panting dog, and repeated his earlier offer. "Want to bring the pup in around back? Owner's got a dog so there's shit in the back room. Dish and bed and stuff." He watched as Hunter lit his cigarette, eyes watching the quirk of Hunter's lips and the inhale that followed. Realizing he was staring again, he rested his hands on his hips and stared up into the tree.
Hunter thought about it. He felt the heat but he wouldn’t let it rush him, and he spent most of his time outside in this desert so it was the air conditioning that felt odd, not the heat. Enjoying the relative calm from the cigarette if not the smoke, he finally looked back up at Zee. He couldn’t be absolutely sure what the guy wanted, but it would probably turn up in the end. “Yeah... okay. But I might have to go to work soon.” Better to secure an out just in case things went bad, an excuse to take with him.
Hunter touched his tongue to his lower lip and glanced at the tree to see if there was any particular reason Zee was looking that way. “...You got some new ink,” Hunter said, lifting his own chin and touching his finger to his pulse at the top of his throat.
The smile Zee gave in reaction to Hunter's agreement was small, but accompanied by a nod. He didn't know if the excuse was genuine or not, thought that Hunter would've mentioned it sooner if it was real, but didn't make a big deal out of it. Small steps - one at a time - and just meeting face to face at all seemed like good progress to him.
The flash of tongue against lip caught his attention as he looked back at Hunter, and the sight of finger against skin made him stare again. He was pretty sure he was never this blatant or this awkward around other people, but he'd never had to deal with a reunion before. And maybe Jules was right about there being something there yet. Not that Zee would push on it (or ever tell Jules he was onto something). His smile spread again as he lifted his own hand to his throat, as if he could feel the colors there. "Yeah, I guess I have. It's been a while. Forgot you haven't seen some of it." A lot of it, if he was being honest, though he supposed his throat was the most noticeable. A good part of the rest of it was hidden beneath clothing. "Gonna run out of room soon if I don't slow down."
That made Hunter smile. With all the squinting and cautious wariness, the smile was sudden and felt strange on his face. “Man’s only got so much skin,” he agreed, managing to make the comment innocuous for only about the first couple syllables. He leaned a little closer, about two inches, to see what kind of pictures Zee had managed this time, and wondered silently who he’d asked to help with it. Hunter was no artist but he knew anybody would have trouble tattooing their own neck. “Going to do something with your face?” he asked, trying not to be disapproving about the idea of some kind of crazy ink facemask that would make Zee... not Zee.
The smile, the words, the lean in - it all made Zee go warm around the edges, his own smile softening but still wide. He tipped his head back just enough to expose more of his throat, allowing Hunter to better see the work he'd had done. "I know," came the soft reply. "Hard to stop, though." He finally looked back down at Hunter's question, easily hearing the edge to it. "Nah. This is as high as it goes." Another pause, one that was accompanied by a sly smile. "Besides, who wants to cover up a face as good as this?" He rubbed a hand over his cheek, the rasp against stubble audible in the hot air.
Hunter’s smile evolved into a grin, his worries about awkwardness temporarily soothed at least until he started thinking too much about where he was and what he was doing there. He moved back out of Zee’s space, taking with him the faint musk smell of clean horse, collie, sweat, cigarette, and sweet fake lime. “People will think you’re one of those people who grew up in the jungle,” he agreed, clicking his tongue against the back of his throat to call the dog and starting back toward the shop. Wiping his forehead with one sleeve, he added, “Not that you care, I guess.”
Scent memory was a bitch to deal with, and while the addition of horse hadn't always been there, the rest of it was so Hunter that it nearly hurt. It made Zee want to step forward, to keep the two of them close, but he reluctantly allowed the space to grow between them. His smile stayed steady though, eyes warm as he shifted his weight to stretch his legs in an easy walk with Hunter, matching his shorter stride with almost familiar ease. “Nah, grew up in the suburbs. You know that.” He angled a smile at Hunter along with his words, even though he couldn’t remember if he’d ever actually shared anything about his history or not. He must have, though. At some point.
“Yeah, I do.” Hunter didn’t really know exactly what “the suburbs” were like. He had these pictures of white picket fences and vaguely smiling people with those shiny barbeque grills, but that was all. He figured Zee didn’t like it and that’s why he’d gone to such lengths to make himself look totally foreign to it. Hunter saw it as intentional rebellion, and he thought it was hot. Everything about Zee was hot, even when he was warping his skin and doing weird things to his ears. Hunter licked his lips again as they reached the door, and he pushed thumbs darkened with forest-green paint into his jeans. “Sorry I freaked.”
The smile had faded a bit from Zee’s expression, but it was replaced by a warm sort of content, like he didn’t need to try as hard to seem happy. “No worries, H. Just glad you didn’t totally take off.” He held the warm look for an almost too-long moment before looking down where Hunter had shoved hands into his pockets, but the collie caught his attention instead. She had stopped at their feet, looking up at them expectantly. He laughed under his breath at the curious head tilt. “So you want to bring the pup inside? Probably better than making her stay out here, yeah?”
Hunter didn’t know anybody who could look that calm and pleased about nothing at all. He couldn’t think why Zee was happy to see him, nor could he think of anything in particular he’d done to deserve the look, but it made him feel warm and wanted. Hunter shook his head. Dangerous territory. Zee didn’t want him, or if he did it wouldn’t be for long, and it was better to remember it. Hunter glanced down at the dog. “Yeah, hot out here,” he agreed. She ruffed at him as he gave her a skeptical look.
“Grab her up and bring her around back then. We’ll get her settled and then move your chair around so you can see.” Zee tilted his head toward the side of the building before starting in that direction, stride easy and slow enough that Hunter could catch up. He turned enough to throw a glance back at Hunter, another angle of a smile, before rounding the corner to go inside. Whether or not Hunter followed was up to him. He smiled again as Hunter rounded the corner after another few seconds, dog held in his arm. He opened the back door and gestured inside. “After you.”