“I just had the greatest idea ever.”

Luhan makes a face at his americano. It’s Monday morning, rain is pouring down outside the overly crowded coffee shop, he’s practically running on four hours of sleep and the fact that his best friend slash coworker slash flatmate seems to be so awake and lively, brain already functioning and all, irritates him to no end. Two tables over, an old man sneezes into his coffee.

“Xing, please…“

“No, no! Hear me out on this one! Alright, so, since our last idea didn’t prove to be so great after all, I-”

“Your idea, not our.” Luhan pinches the bridge of his nose, biting out the remark through gritted teeth. Saying that the so-called last idea was not great would be an understatement. It was a complete failure, and he still shivers at the mere thought of what had happened barely a month before. Flashes of pink lightbulbs, dancefloors, blaring dubstep music and a bunch of drunken people yelling in his ear threaten to worsen his already ty mood, so he pushes everything in the back of his mind and takes a gulp of the scalding hot liquid in his cup.

“My idea, fine.” Yixing grants as he keeps on stirring his matcha latte placidly, motions so smooth and unhurried that he looks like the most carefree man in the world. Luhan suspects he might be. “Anyway, we established that group blind dates are not your thing.

“Don’t tell me you’re still trying to set me up!” Luhan groans, half wanting to go back to sleep and half wanting to smash his own face on the table. “You’re worse than my mom, man. I’m happy being single, why is it so hard to believe?”

Yixing shakes his head solemnly and takes a sip of his drink, a pleased smile blooming on his face at the taste when he puts the cup down. “You, my friend, are not happy. I can see it, and I’m never wrong when it comes to the matters of the heart.” He pats his chest a couple of times to punctuate the last word, only on the right side instead of the left. Luhan scoffs and shakes his head, thoughts of calling in sick for the day starting to become more prominent. He yawns and brings the cup to his lips while looking out of the window at the colorful umbrellas that hurry along the sidewalk, briefly wondering where is this or that person headed, what will they be doing this morning, what goes on inside their minds in this exact moment. Two high school students, a boy and a girl, share one of those cute clear vinyl umbrellas, and they smile at each other shyly when their shoulders bump. His best friend must have seen them too, because by the time he gets his attention back on him, Yixing is smiling fondly and patting his own chest once again. Luhan scowls and almost punches him in the face.

“Oh, Ice Prince at five o’clock.”

Putting hostilities aside for the time being, it’s now Luhan’s turn to follow Yixing’s line of sight. Slowly but steadily, and with seasoned nonchalance, he pretends to throw a lazy look around, only to stop on the familiar figure that has just entered the coffee shop and is putting his umbrella in the rack. Tall, sleek body wrapped up in flannel and jeans, thick scarf thrown around a long neck, black rimmed glasses, grey portfolio under arm. It’s Ice Prince himself, in all his deadpan and frosty glory. Luhan both loves and hates how he looks so effortlessly chic and fashionable all the times, because despite being dressed in a really similar way himself, he always ends up looking like a homeless teenager instead. The young man approaches the counter with short, calculated steps and uses his monotone, nasal voice to order a white chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream. His sweet tooth never fails to leave Luhan speechless and wondering how anyone could possibly tolerate, let alone enjoy such sugary hell inside their mouth. He looks down at his bitter americano and pictures a huge dollop of whipped cream on top of it, but that thought is quickly abandoned with a frown. Once Ice Prince has obtained his cup, he strolls over to his usual booth and settles down, putting the portfolio on the table as he slowly sips his drink. Luhan can’t help but ask himself if he’s an art student, or just someone who likes drawing in his spare time. As soon as the tip of the pencil touches the paper, it’s as if the world disappears. The brooding young man always gets so engrossed in his work that he never spares anyone a glance, not even by mistake.

“Ten bucks he has tons of tattoos underneath all that flannel.”

The last drops of Luhan’s beverage almost go down the wrong pipe at Yixing’s words. He definitely didn’t need the specific mental image of intricate, colorful designs adorning Ice Prince’s pale skin, following the hard lines of his broad chest, curving around those long arms, travelling down along the soft dip of his neck, and God knows where else.

“What’s so bad about tattoos? I think they’re cute.” Yixing inquires with a frown, evidently having mistaken Luhan’s reaction for a negative one. So much for never being wrong in the matters of the heart.

“Never mind… So what was that great idea you were talking about earlier? I’m suddenly really interested.” He decides to play it cool, lest his nosy friend starts asking questions or, even worse, sees it in his eyes that the man sitting in the corner doesn’t exactly leave Luhan indifferent.

“I just came up with something even better. You should get a tattoo!”

“What??”

“Or a puppy, but we’re both busy and I hate to think of a little pup home alone all day... Actually the original idea was signing you up on an online dating website, but I guess that wouldn’t go so well either… So yeah, get a tattoo, get hot, get dates! Aren’t I amazing?”

He’s definitely something, Luhan gives him that. Out of habit, he glances over at Ice Prince and finds him scrawling vigorously on his piece of paper, coffee half forgotten on the table. He quickly reverts his eyes back to Yixing, frowning at the cheeky smile he sees.

“But… Shouldn’t tattoos actually mean something? Honestly, who the hell gets inked to impress? That sounds douchey.”

“Way more people than you think, actually…” Yixing looks pensive for a moment, then waves his hand in dismissal. “Long gone are the times when tattoos had meaning. So when are you getting one?”

On Monday mornings, Luhan has the bad habit of speaking without thinking. The weekend is over, work is on its way, who can blame him really?

“I’ll get one when you get one.” Those few, ill-fated words come out with a victorious grin, because how can sweetheart Yixing, with his needle phobia, ever get inked? It’s only when he grins back and nods once, solemnly, that Luhan knows he’s truly and completely ed.

“Are- are you serious??”

“Sure! We can get matching tattoos, how cool is that?”

Luhan can only gape. Had he known his friend’s heart, he would have never opened his mouth to suggest such a ridiculous idea. He does know how stubborn he can get, though, so there’s really now way out now. Not too sure how to feel about the whole thing, he motions towards the exit and gets up with a slump in his shoulders.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late for work.”

When they pass Ice Prince’s booth on their way out, the last thing Luhan expects is to cross gazes with said man. But two small, wolfish eyes meet his own for a split second, and a chill travels up his spine almost instantly because holy . How he wishes he could see those eyes more often, even though one is grey and the other brown, and they might be contacts but who cares. It all ends too soon, right when Ice Prince drops his gaze back down to the round, geometric design that takes up half the page of his sketchbook. Luhan catches a glimpse of it and realizes it’s a beautiful flower, each petal highly detailed and decorated. As he follows Yixing out of the coffee shop, he finds himself thinking he wouldn’t mind getting a tattoo of that same design.

-

Being an intern at the local radio station might sound like a bunch of fun, and Luhan doesn’t really hate his job, it’s just that on certain days he wishes he could stay in bed and sleep until nightfall. Mondays are hard, but rainy Mondays even more so. Ever since he was a little kid, the sound of raindrops falling has always made him drowsy, and to this day he truly thinks there’s nothing like curling up underneath a warm blanket and just let the patter lull you to sleep. But alas, instead of inside this amazing fantasy, he finds himself sitting in his little cubicle, busy going through his schedule. For today he has to write two on-air scripts, prepare the daily guests for the show and arrange for the following day’s contest, which basically means coming up with ideas and prizes. He looks over to the control room, where Yixing is busy with the new equipment that has just arrived. His best friend had landed the broadcasting engineering internship a couple of months before him, and he was the one who recommended him to their boss. Fresh out of journalism school, Luhan almost couldn’t believe his luck. As much as he will be forever grateful to Yixing, after this morning’s rant about his love life (or lack thereof) and the consequent plan to “get a tattoo, get hot, get dates”, his only wish is to be left alone to wallow in self-pity. Because despite trying to convince everybody that he is in fact happy being single, he does feel the pang of loneliness way too often for it to be normal. Yet, the fear of being hurt and having his heart trampled on is still stronger than the yearning for human touch and warmth. With his long history of bad experiences, being taken for granted, loving more than being loved and giving more than being given to, Luhan is definitely not about to jump into a relationship. Of course he gets the occasional crush, but he’s more than content with watching from afar.

“Luhan, come here a second.”

His boss’s voice brings him back to reality and into the spacious, bright office just beside his cubicle.

“You called, Mr. Kim?”

“Yes, I need you go to over to Record Time and collect last week’s sales survey. I just got a call from Chanyeol, he’s having issues with the server or something so he can’t email it, and he can’t leave the shop because he’s expecting a big delivery some time this morning.”

“Got it. Should I bring him the new ones for next week?”

Mr. Kim nods and dismisses Luhan with a smile, turning to look outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office that provide a clear view of the park across the street. It seems to have stopped raining and Luhan is grateful for that, because running errands in bad weather is not something he ever looks forward to.

-

Record Time is a small but nice store downtown, a twenty-minute trip by subway from the radio station. The owner, Chanyeol, is a long time friend of Mr. Kim’s, and people at the office tell stories that they were supposed to work together at the station, but Chanyeol ended up taking a different path for some reason. Luhan knows him too because he often finds himself browsing through those old vinyl discs on weekends, and he has always found him a little feisty but still enjoyable. Never one to enjoy gossip, he just lets his coworkers do the talk.

While he walks from to the subway stop to the store, a spring in his step because of the sky clearing up, his mind wanders to Ice Prince. He wonders where he is, what he’s doing, if he’s drawing something nice. Just when he rounds the corner to finally reach his destination, something makes him stop in his tracks. He’s either hallucinating or a psychic, because Ice Prince himself stands in front of Record Time, coldly stunning in the exact same outfit he was wearing that morning, cigarette between his lips and cellphone in hand. There’s no way Luhan can avoid him, so he takes a deep breath and marches on, heedless of his heartbeat picking up a dangerous rhythm. Feigning nonchalance is kind of his specialty, something he has perfected through years and years of hiding from others, and while he wonders what even is Ice Prince doing in front of a record store, Chanyeol chooses that exact moment to poke his head out of the doorway. He welcomes Luhan inside with a big smile and a wave of his equally big hand, and for the second time that day, two round eyes meet a piercing stare as Ice Prince raises his head right when Luhan passes in front of him.

-

When Luhan is done with the surveys and exits the store, he can’t help sighing in relief at the sight of the empty sidewalk. Just as he’s about to turn around and head to the subway stop, the tattoo shop next door to Record Time catches his eyes. It’s the first time he properly looks at it, and the glitzy shop window with the fluorescent signs and the plentiful display of merchandise stirs something in the depths of his guts. His right hand pushes the entrance door as if on autopilot, and all of a sudden he finds himself in a dreamlike world: pictures of elaborate designs hang on the bright crimson walls, large display cases are full of plugs and studs, speakers pump out a peculiar mix of swing and rock ‘n’ roll, and it’s not until the person behind the counter clears his throat that Luhan registers he’s been staring at his surroundings for a bit too long. In the next room, the faint but still ominous whirring of the tattoo gun makes him cringe.

“Welcome to Holes & Ink, how can I help you?” The young man with the bright red undercut and the insane amount of neck tattoos and facial piercings has a warm, enveloping voice that instantly puts Luhan at ease. What the hell, let’s do this. He draws nearer the counter with clammy hands and a wonky smile, hoping it doesn’t look too creepy.

“Hi, um… My friend and I would like to get matching tattoos… Or something, we still haven’t decided actually. How does it work, do we need to make an appointment or can we just come and check out the designs and get them done?”

“For that, an appointment is needed. If you want I can schedule one right away, just let me check the planner.” With a swift movement of his pale hands, the young man brings out a big notebook from underneath the counter and starts turning the pages. “You know, since it’s just my coworker that handles the tattooing, a clear schedule is essential.” The smile he produces is friendly and welcoming, and Luhan smiles back just as sincerely. “If you change your mind and decide to get a piercing instead, you can come anytime and ask for Kyungsoo, which would be me. No need for appointments to get a little stud.” Every time Kyungsoo smiles, his dimple piercings almost disappear into his chubby cheeks. For a brief moment, Luhan thinks about getting a piercing as well.

“How does tomorrow evening at half past six sound?”

-

The following day comes fast, even a little too fast for Luhan’s liking. The morning starts in a bad way because he has to settle for a cup of lukewarm coffee from the office kitchen instead of his beloved americano, since both him and Yixing were running late and had practically no time to stop at their favorite coffee shop for breakfast. Then at around lunchtime, he receives a call from his mother that turns his mood sour in a quick second. The afternoon goes by in the blink of an eye, and when Luhan clocks out, his only wish is to go home and sleep until the next day. Instead, he has to go and endure the pain of a thousand needles as they dance across his delicate, immaculate skin. The previous day’s confidence is long lost in the folds of his daily routine, and he basically whines his way to the shop.

“Xing, what if it hurts like hell and I jump off the chair in the middle of the job? What if I choose a lousy subject and end up looking douchey as ?”

Yixing, on the other hand, has done research on tattoo designs and is ninety percent set on getting a tribal tattoo on his calf. He looks radiant when he turns his head to look at Luhan.

“Come on, don’t get cold feet on me now! You were the one who set the appointment, Lu. That must mean something, right? Maybe deep inside you are ready and willing, it’s only your overthinking brain complicating the task. I’ll help you pick a cute design, don’t worry.”

He puts an arm around Luhan’s shoulders and squeezes a bit to comfort his gloomy best friend. They end up reaching Holes & Ink ten minutes earlier than expected.

“Good evening! You can have a seat if you want, Sehun will be right with you.”

Kyungsoo greets them from behind one of the display cases, where he’s busy choosing the perfect belly button piercing for the girl that is waiting in front of him. Luhan nods and carefully sits down on the black velvet sofa next to the entrance, while Yixing loiters around the shop, discreetly whistling to himself as he inspects the pictures on the wall. After a couple of minutes, he picks up some catalogs to browse through and plops down beside Luhan with a glint in his eyes.

“I love this place. Great choice.”

The shop is really amazing, Luhan has to agree with his best friend, but neither the stunning décor nor the alluring vibe it gives off are helpful in putting him at ease right now. Yixing flips through the pages of the catalog with his signature placid smile, seemingly unaffected by all the fidgeting that is going on by his side. Unsure of what to do with his hands and suddenly feeling hot as , Luhan gets up to go hang his light parka on the rack. The shop is much too warm for his liking, given the fact it’s almost spring already, but then he realizes it must be because the clients have to sit there with their bare skin exposed for God knows how long. Just when he bends down to re-tie a rogue shoelace on his way back to the sofa, the tattooist emerges from the next room.

Because of his stance, the first thing Luhan sees are loosely tied navy blue chucks. After that comes a pair of grey sweatpants hugging two skinny, impossibly long legs, and then two lean, strong looking arms sticking out of a blue, low cut V-neck t-shirt. Said arms capture his attention in a heartbeat, because they are completely covered in an explosion of geometric round flowers, some big and some smaller, each one perfectly symmetrical and heavily detailed. What’s visible of the guy’s chest is decorated with what looks like an angel wing and some tree branches, and a few other lines and patterns grace his elegant neck, but Luhan is not too sure about what he’s seeing there. He has long lost his focus and ability to process visual information, because this Sehun guy standing in front of him is none other than Ice Prince. He doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating, but he thinks he hears Yixing gasp from where he’s sitting. Something akin to surprise is clearly visible on Sehun’s face as well, but it’s gone before Luhan can comprehend what it is. Not that he tries, of course.

“Hey, I’m Sehun. Nice to meet you, guys.”

He moves closer to Yixing first, and the latter takes the hand that’s being offered to him with a blank stare and a tight lipped smile that looks a tad bit forced. Luhan straightens up a bit too enthusiastically and shakes Sehun’s hand as well, this time able to identify the fleeting spark in his eyes. Recognition. Somewhere in the depths of his throat, he manages to find a semblance of voice to greet him back.

“Hi, I’m Luhan and that’s Yixing.”

It’s like the entire world shifts in a long, stretching second. Their eyes meet for the third time in two days, but this time it’s different. This time it’s not short-lived. They hold each other’s stare with some yet undisclosed purpose, an eye contact that electrifies Luhan deep to his core. In the end it’s Sehun who breaks it as he shifts his heterochromatic eyes over to Yixing, but he keeps on looking alternately at him and Luhan, to address them both.

“Kyungsoo here mentioned that you’re still kind of undecided? Did you take a look at the catalogs already?”

Yixing seems to have recovered from the previous shock, if the catlike grin he’s directing at Sehun is of any indication. Luhan feels like smacking him now more than ever, because not only was he right about the tattoos, but he’s also looking on the verge of doing something really stupid. In an unprecedented surge of boldness, one he wasn’t even aware of having hidden inside of him, Luhan bites the bullet.

“No, we’re pretty much set. He wants a tribal on his calf, I want one of those.” He points at the sleeve of flowers on Sehun’s arms with a surprisingly firm finger. Yixing nods proudly and settles more comfortably on the sofa, looking half amused and half amazed. Sehun doesn’t miss a beat.

“Okay, great. These are flower mandalas, let me get you the catalog so you can choose one.”

Luhan forces back a shudder at the sight of the metal stud gleaming on Sehun’s tongue. Whatever game it is they are playing, why stop now?

“Do you have your sketchbook with you?”

The tattooist widens his eyes imperceptibly, biting his lower lip in such a sinful manner that Luhan might just combust right there on the spot. Is he suppressing a smile? Is he trying to remember where he put it? Abrupt as lightning, a smirk appears on his otherwise stony face. It doesn’t last long, but still enough for Luhan to notice.

“Yeah, I do. Guess we’ll be starting with you then. This way, please.”

Surely the weird exchange that just took place must have left Kyungsoo baffled, because as Luhan follows the tall, young man down the hall, he clearly hears the piercer asking Yixing if they both already know Sehun from somewhere.

-

“So this is… This where the magic happens, huh?” Luhan stammers out as he follows Sehun’s direction to sit down on the reclining chair in the middle of the brightly lit room. The walls are painted a daring shade of purple, and pretty much like those in the lobby, they are covered in pictures and drawings. A couple of cabinets, some shelves and a big, full body mirror complete the furnishing.

“This is it.” Sehun’s confirmation comes out softly, as the young man pulls a wheeled stool underneath himself and sits on it, right by Luhan’s right side. This is the closest they’ve been until now, and the faint smell of menthol and disinfectant lingers in the air around them. After a few pregnant seconds, Sehun extends a hand as if to touch Luhan’s face, but bypasses it completely, instead reaching for one of the portfolios on the shelf just behind the chair. When he pulls his hand back he’s holding an extremely familiar one, and Luhan releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Here is the one I finished yesterday morning at the coffee shop.” He points at the stunning flower in the middle of the page, the exact same one Luhan had seen the day before.

“It’s really beautiful. Does it mean anything?”

“Yes, mandalas symbolize harmony, cosmic order, even the notion that life is never ending, if you want. Some people use them to meditate and reach spiritual clarity... Once you decide to get one, you can incorporate your favorite color, or animal, or anything really. As for me, I like flowers.” He wraps up the explanation with an almost shy smile, holding Luhan’s gaze the same way he did earlier.

“I want this one. Not so big, though.” Luhan is not sure why they are whispering, but it all seems so intimate that it’s like they’ve known each other for much longer than half a day.

“Alright. Where do you want it?”

“Where does it hurt less?”

Sehun puts the sketchbook on a nearby cabinet and gently removes Luhan’s right arm from the armrest. He takes it in his hands, and it’s a soft touch that prickles Luhan’s skin in the most enticing way. The tattooist lets his fingers ghost over the pale forearm, apparently fascinated by the goosebumps that slowly start to appear.

“It depends on how well you deal with pain. For most people it’s here, on the forearms. Shoulders and calves are good places too.” Those intense, peculiarly colored eyes of his dart up to meet Luhan’s round, wide ones, and it can’t be good. Nothing good can come out of this, Luhan is positive. He can already picture it in his mind: charred hearts, blasted souls and hot tears that never seem to stop. No, he must get up and get out and never cross paths with this man again.

“How about on the chest? Right on the heart.” Oh, for ’s sake.

Sehun tilts his head and lowers his eyes to Luhan’s clothed torso with a slight frown. He’s still holding his arm in his bare hands.

“That might hurt. A lot.”

His words are laced with a dangerous double meaning and Luhan belatedly realizes that two can play the game. He hates how it’s always his damn heart that has to lose.

“But then again, it depends on your threshold. What is painful for some, can be almost pleasant for others.” Sehun his lips, maybe with purpose or maybe without. Maybe, Luhan’s heart doesn’t have to lose this time.

“Chest it is. Screw it.”

-

It is kind of painful, but not in the way he had anticipated. Luhan’s pain threshold turns out to be slightly above average, and halfway through the job, a glimmer of pleasure dares to set in. He blames it entirely on the extreme proximity of Sehun’s face and his gloved hands moving around on his bare chest. Every now and then the tattooist looks up at him to gauge his reaction, and Luhan finds it incredibly hot, especially when he lowers his gaze again, a ghost of a smirk gracing his handsome face.

“I love your tattoos. They look good on you.” What is there to lose at this point? He’s already hurting, already lost in an ocean of ink and flowers and differently colored eyes. His hand is so, so close to Sehun’s neck, it only takes a minuscule leap to touch the cute star above his collarbone. The young man hisses and inhales sharply at the contact, barely managing to not up the intricate flower he’s drawing.

“Not on my neck, I’m sensitive…” he sounds like he’s apologizing, voice low and restrained, when it should be the other way around. Luhan bites his lower lip, not missing how Sehun’s eyes follow the movement and flicker with something he doesn’t want to name yet.

“Sorry.”

Sehun shakes his head in dismissal and chuckles, starting his work again. “You would have been sorrier if I messed this up.”

“Next time I’m getting a piercing.”

“Already getting ahead of ourselves, are we?” The tattooist sounds far too amused for Luhan’s liking. He decides to wipe that cheeky grin off his face by going in for the kill.

“How does a tongue piercing feel?”

The tattoo gun stops buzzing. Luhan waits. Sehun removes and discards the disposable gloves without raising his head.

“Done. Go take a look in the mirror.”

Luhan gets up from the chair with a deep frown and goes to stand in front of the mirror. Why did Sehun ignore the question? Did he go too far? It was an innocent question, after all. Or was it? He takes a good look at himself in the mirror. The tattoo looks really beautiful. He turns to face Sehun, but the latter is busy rummaging through a drawer.

“Sehun…”

The tattooist stops looking for whatever it is he was looking for and turns his head around, giving Luhan a warning look that has him stapled on the ground and feeling hot all over. His breath hitches and a million sirens go off in his brain, but then again, it’s not like Luhan really cares anymore. When Sehun draws near, he’s not even scared.

“Stay still.” With soft hands, he cleans the newly tattooed area and applies a bandage to cover everything up. Luhan obediently doesn’t move an inch, but he can’t stop his tongue.

“How’s it like having a piercing inside your mouth?”

Sehun answers by grabbing Luhan’s head with his hands, oh so gently, and invading his personal space with his tall, sleek body. Instead of crashing their lips together like Luhan expects him to, though, he lowers his voice to a whisper.

“I am trying to be a professional here, and you’re making it ing hard. Why don’t we talk about this piercing business over a cup of coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Was that pun intended?”

“Oh my ing God, Luhan.”

-

True to his words, the following morning Sehun shows Luhan how’s it like having a piercing inside one’s mouth. Luhan finds out he doesn’t dislike the super sweet flavor of a white chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream, especially if he tastes it inside Sehun’s mouth.