Chapter Text
Dabi was used to people from all walks of life stumbling into the tattoo parlor in the early hours. Whether it be some rebellious teens wanting to mar their skin or a girl who just got her heart broken and needed something to fill it, he handled each case with ease. Generally, the interactions would be kept short and clipped with Dabi trying to get them in the chair as soon as possible, such as, “Welcome to The League of Ink. Tattoo or piercing? Gotcha. Anything else I should know? Okay, take a seat.”
There was a few times he had to ask the customers to schedule an appointment. That was only for tattoos that were too specific or needed multiple sessions to complete. And those were the only reasons. Dabi didn’t bat an eye to stoned or drunk citizens walking in asking for odd requests. As long as he got paid, he didn’t give a shit. Which wasn’t great since he also happened to be one of the best artists and the only one willing to work nearly every night from 7PM to 3AM.
Midnight came and passed. Dabi hadn’t experienced many customers that night, which wasn’t too rare. It gave him time to do his work for his classes and also sketch out designs he was asked to do from scheduled customers. He didn’t mind the quiet. If anything, he enjoyed it. As long as no one came in, he was allowed to smoke freely at the front counter in front of his laptop, typing away his essays.
He puffed out a lung full of smoke into the air, watching it float around him. Just as he was about to take another drag, the door chime went off. Dabi grumbled under his breath, slamming his cigarette down in seconds, snuffing out the bud into the ashtray beside him. He was always quick to move at that familiar bell.
Dabi wasn’t quick to smile at his customers though. In fact, he always looked up with a scowl on his face that screamed how much he felt inconvenienced before he asked his trademark first question.
“Tattoo or piercing?”
His blue eyes glared up to meet the man who entered. He could immediately tell the man was drunk off his ass as he stumbled to the counter. He watched as the blond man leaned against the counter right in front of him, slowly raising his head to lock eyes. And damn, if Dabi wasn’t going to admit flat out that the man wasn’t cute. He had nice, warm eyes and dusted cheeks. Pretty, smooth lips that glistened as the blond’s tongue ran over them. His messy, tousled hair looked more purposeful than unknown post-club dancing hair.
Dabi’s eyes trailed down to view the mans black jacket, and the tight, tight grey shirt underneath. He didn’t say anything more though, waiting for the customer to speak. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait much longer before the customer breathed, “Shit.”
Dabi raised an eyebrow, slowly closing his laptop lid, “That wasn’t an option.”
The blond blushed harder and shook his head, only to get dizzy as he muttered, “T-Tattoo, please.”
Dabi nodded, gesturing to the tattoo wall behind him of things he did on the spot. There was also a few catalogs, but he wasn’t in the mood to drag them all out from the other edge of the back counter. Besides, there had to be over five hundred tattoos plastered on the wall. Blondie could probably pick one of them.
“Can I have your name?” Dabi asked as he waited for the man to decide, examining the blond’s expression as he thought over his choices with his intoxicated mind.
The blond didn’t miss a beat before replying, “Can I have your number?”
Dabi felt his lips twitch, but he forced the rest of his expression to remain neutral. Leaning down to rest his elbows on the counter, he watched as the stranger, still not looking back to him, fiddled with his gloved hands. Dabi wondered briefly if the man had ever gotten a tattoo before, but since he was here drunk, the chances were slim. If only the poor guy knew he’d bleed so much more and be making Dabi’s night a living hell if Blondie was weak at the sight of blood. “Let’s see how this appointment goes.”
The blond nodded, though he seemed to be in a different place. Finally, he looked back, hopelessly lost, “I don’t know what to get.”
The sight of the blond’s pout was enticing. Dabi smirked, leaning forward as he purred, “Well, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to having something to do.”
It was an innocent lie, but the statement seemed to make the blond’s blush worse. The man fumbled with what he was wanting to say for a moment before looking away almost shyly, “Want to…”
“You are going to have to speak up,” Dabi teased, thoroughly enjoying the awkward drunk’s behavior. Usually they were either impulsive, recklessly fucking up his shit or were getting handsy- in both the sexual and violent way. It was the cons of having the only tattoo store in this part of the city, right smack in the middle of a ton of bars.
“Can… you pick one for me?” Dabi perked up at the offer, a devilish smile appearing on his lips.
“Where do you want it?”
“You pick.” The blond shrugged, cheeks and ears red from the alcohol. Dabi clicked his tongue piercing against his teeth as he stared at the man, waiting for him to back down. He didn’t. Slowly standing up, Dabi walked around the counter and headed to his station. The blond followed, swaying from side to side so much that he nearly ran into Dabi when he stopped. Luckily, Dabi was amused enough to not be annoyed as he guided the man down to lay in his chair. He quietly got to work getting his station ready for the blond, all the while feeling those brown eyes watching his every move lethargically. “M’ names Hawks.”
“Mmm, Dabi.” Dabi looked to the wall of tattoos. “Tell me about yourself, hot shot.”
“Like what?” Hawks asked in return, shifting to sit up in the seat. Dabi noticed and placed a firm hand to his chest, pushing down only a little before Hawks eased back down. Dabi glanced back to the blond, raising an eyebrow as if to ask a question he’d ask a million times. Are you certain you want to do this?
Hawks, apparently, understood. He gave a nod to Dabi, “I’m a college student, gonna become a pilot. I uh, I like the color red, and I guess I REALLY like blue right now- Uhh, birds are nice. I like chicken nuggets.”
Dabi chuckled, sitting down in the chair beside Hawks, “You really like blue, huh? What kind of blue?”
“Like your eyes.” There was no hesitation. Dabi bit the inside of his cheek to prevent a blush from creeping up onto his pale skin.
“Take off your jacket.” Hawks did as he was told with little to no difficulty. Dabi spared a look to the clock to see how much time he had, then got to work as soon as possible on Hawks’ upper arm, drawing out simple lines that’d help him create the masterpiece. He had never been given permission to go completely nuts on someone’s body. Usually he was given a specific place and a general idea of what they wanted. There was a few times that people would come to him because they loved his art and wanted to check out designs he had created, but never tattooed, but they always knew what was being inked. Yet here he was, tattooing a cute guy who was so drunk that walking was a challenge, who was letting him take the wheel. “Is this your first time?”
“Is it obvious?” Hawks asked. He winced once the needle jabbing his arm repeatedly in an uncomfortable way.
“A little,” Dabi admitted, “it’s cute though. Do you want any color or?”
“Whatever you think is best.” Well, this customer better be easy to please. He was lucky that Dabi wasn’t going to tattoo a dick on him. He likely would on any other occasion, just because he liked making drunk people regret their life choices. But- he thought as he focused on tattooing Hawks fairly muscular arms- if he was going to score a date with this man, he didn’t want to date someone with a permanent, crudely drawn dick as their only tattoo.
Hawks kept getting more adorable as time passed. Dabi would normally find it annoying to have to chat while working, but he had done the exact same tattoo over five times in the past month. He could do it with his eyes closed. So he didn’t mind whenever Hawks’ eyes would light up with curiosity to ask about the parlor or Dabi himself. There was a few times Hawks broke the conversation when he remembered a pick up line, which he then would recite to Dabi. Dabi wouldn’t admit it, but the attention encouraged him to do as best of a job as he could.
“Did you fall from heaven?” Hawks asked, staring up at Dabi. He was sobering up slowly, but not enough for driving or other activities.
“Do I look like an angel?” Dabi retorted as he got out a few colors. Hawks shrugged a little when the gun was away. The rest of the time they sat, Dabi kept having to keep Hawks awake as he attempted to get sleep. It wasn’t too much longer before the tattoo was complete. “Ready to see it, babe?”
Hawks nodded tiredly. Dabi helped him up, then took out his phone to take a picture of it. He turned his brightness up and showed it to Hawks. “What do you think?”
Quietly taking the phone from Dabi, the blond observed the picture through his tired eyes before a small worked onto his lips. “What made you think of that?”
“Well, you said you wanted to be a pilot, right? Have to have a good sense of direction, or something to help guide you home,” Dabi glanced down to the compass tattoo he had done, by far more pleased with the detailed, careful work he did here over the other compasses he had done to other drunks or heartbroken idiots. Reaching over, he tapped on either side of the compass. “You also said you liked red. And that you now like blue, so I added those on the dial. Think of it as a symbol to guide you back here if you are sober and really want my number.”
Hawks grinned, nodding his head as he handed his phone back. Dabi helped him wrap his tattoo, gave him an instruction booklet because he didn’t expect him to remember anything he was told, then helped Hawks get his payment in. Just as the blond was about to head out, he turned back to face Dabi with a blush, “Hey, uh… Do you mean it?”
“Mean… what?” Dabi asked as he opened his computer back up.
“If I come back, can I get your number?”
Dabi suppressed the urge to grin at him, not wanting to expose how his heart fluttered at the thought. “Come back and see.”