[M4F] Don’t Close Your Eyes [Tattoos] [Breast Cancer] [Affirmation] [Cunnilingus] [Fucking] [Mirror] [Book Store] [Fuck Cancer] [Scars] [Strength]
ambidentrous
Work Text:
I’m unbuttoning my shirt for you. I want to say “why didn’t we ever do this before” but you’re crying in my tattoo studio and I’m trying to hold tears back and what we’re doing isn’t what we should have done before. I wasn’t going to show you this.
Fuck cancer, right? I mean I’m glad you’re N.E.D. [or “there’s No Evidence of Disease”] and I was, I don’t know… I wasn’t happy that you had to come to me for the tattoo, but I was happy that it was me that you came to. I’m the best at it anyway. No, really. I am.
What? No, I’m not going to charge you. Are you kidding? It’s… court ordered community service.
That’s a lie. I mean, it was a crime I didn’t ask you out at your bookshop opening. You were happy and funny and cute and smart that night and I… really should have bought you a drink. I just bought a book. The one you kept laying your hand on during your speech. I should have taken you home. Upstairs. I mean I live upstairs. I should have… I deserve to get sentenced to community service. But I really wanted to give you this… gift. Your reconstruction is really good, but the scars… I tried to make them into something beautiful for you. Dogwood vines. You chose them so well. Have you seduced anyone with them yet?
Why not? You’re beautiful. And your hair is growing back. But your left breast… the surgeon really did do a great job. And, well, I did too.
I’m so sorry I made you cry. I really don’t mean to make you self-conscious. And you can’t say you’re not beautiful. I’m an expert. I’m saturated in beauty every day. I make it. I see it, I enhance it. Hell, half of the entertainers at the Grammys this year have my work on them. But you’re the one I should have asked out.
What? No. I am not drowning in rockabilly hotties. I mean, sure, some of them try to get free tattoos and I tell them to go screw my landlady instead, get me a free month of rent and then I’ll do the work. Fuck rockabilly hotties. You’re the one I wanted.
Because you never make me roll my eyes. I mean except for when you say you’re ugly. I wanted you because I admire you. You’re making your business work. You made me laugh. You’re making me cry, dammit. You fucking beat breast cancer.
No. No. Don’t ever say that. You absolutely should have gotten the mammogram. I mean, if you hadn’t they might not have caught it in time and then it would have been too late. You would have…
I, uh… I wasn’t going to show you this.
I’m unbuttoning my shirt for you. I’m trying to hold tears back. I want you to look at my ink. Go ahead. Touch them if you want. The frog on my right shoulder blade, the luna moth on my shoulder, the lotus, the eyeglasses, the toy airplane on the back of my hand. The pinup girl with the perfect tits on my forearm. Stupid. I had terrible taste in college. This though. This is what I want you to see. The newest one… this crooked line across my left breast.
Like yours.
Like your scar before I covered it.
No. Of course I don’t think it’s ugly. It’s, I don’t know… a power charm.
I’m not sure how to explain it. I never earned a scar in my life. Not like you. I’ve never broken a bone or chipped a tooth even, and every pain I’ve ever endured, honestly, is pain that I’ve chosen. And I have ink to show for it. Just these fucking pictures.
You though… you got the diagnosis and you went through hell and came out alive and you came to me to help make something beautiful out of it. And I did my best, but honestly there was nothing I could do to enhance you. You were already beautiful. That scar represents so much courage. I hope you don’t mind. I just really don’t want to forget how beautiful you are because of your pain. Because of the way you beat it.
Less of a woman? Of course not. Hmm. Do me a favor. Show me your breasts.
No. I’m serious. If you won’t show them to anyone else, at least let me enjoy them. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before.
I mean when I was inking you, of course, but that was work.
Oh, and at your shop opening you gave that speech standing on a step stool, a glass of champagne in one hand. Fucking pink champagne. I was right there. Second row, looking at your breasts. Well, not just your breasts. I’m more of a wrist man. Really. Ankles too, and the way your neck curves into your jaw. I love your voice. Your eyebrows, your lips, the way you didn’t hold that champagne glass quite level. I can’t remember a single sentence of that speech. I tried. You said the word “literacy” and I watched your lips and licked mine. I remember your teeth. I wanted to watch you smile all night. I wanted to be the one making you smile but… I chickened out. I thought perfect untouched you wouldn’t, I don’t know… match me. All inked up and scary. I was stupid. Criminal.
I can match you now though, a little. Please show me. I want to see them.
Yes. Holy fuck. You should see your eyes when you hold your dress open. How you’re proud and terrified at the same time. How you’re defying me to wince, to look away. I can’t look away. You’re irresistible. You look like you want me to devour you. Yes. I want to devour you.
Mmm. You look delicious. Okay. I will. Later. I want you to help me with something first.
I thought I was going to do a touch up for you tonight, but you’re looking great. Really amazing. I have the machine and the ink set up though. I want you to add to mine. Please?
Yes. I know you’re not an artist. That’s not the point. I’ll be the artist, and I would love it if you would add to my ink. I’ll talk you through it, okay? I really want this.
Here. See this line I’m drawing on my skin? It’s a root. All you have to do is follow that line. Hold the handle here… dip it in the ink. Good. You’re not squeamish. I’m really impressed. I’ll rub some lotion on… now. Just touch the tip to my skin. Follow the line. Sssssssss. Yes. Good. It doesn’t have to be exact. I’ll wipe it down. How does it feel?
I know. It’s like that for me every time. Terror and wonder. I can’t believe anyone trusts me this much. When I was working on your vines you barely flinched. You’re no stranger to needles and you trusted me. I trust you now. You can’t mess it up.
Oops. Hey. It’s not professional to sit on your client’s thigh. Oh. You’re my client?
No, the customer isn’t always right. I spend hours talking customers out of terrible ideas. But you… you can have anything you want.
Go ahead. Dip in the ink and finish the line. Fffffffffff. Mmm. Yes. Look how my thumb makes your vines move. They’ve healed. You’re healing.
Do the other line. Picture it on my skin, then put it there. Shhhhhhhhhh. Ow. Yes. Good. Look at that. Beautiful. A root coming out of a scar. My skin is becoming the underground to your vines.
And I’m not even going to apologize for that. I’m not one of those guys that gets a hard on during every tattoo. This is all you. Just you… you’re hot against my thigh, fingertips on my skin, concentrating, biting your lip. You’re leaning close, your hand on my chest over my compass, over the fronds of a palm.
[kiss]
Mmm. There it is. There’s your seduction. Look at me looking at you. Fuck you’re beautiful. Look, um, meet me upstairs, okay? I just need to lock the front door. Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be right up.
[beat, scene moves to upstairs apartment. Perhaps stairstep sfx, maybe a door closing]
[laughs] Hey! Why did you pull all the covers off the… oh. A nest on the floor. Perfect. Except… why is your dress covering the mirror?
No. You don’t get to hide from me and you don’t get to hide from you. I want to see all of you. Take the dress down. Yes. Drop it on the floor.
Look at yourself. Do you see what I see looking over your shoulder? You’re beautiful. Yes. Hold my wrists. Feel me drop my pants for you. Sit in your nest here at the end of the bed and lean back against me. I like that. Look at you, how your skin glows, [kiss] how you tip your head when I kiss your neck. You’re fascinating. Spread your legs a little. I’m going to find every single treasure you’re hiding.
Mmm. I love how you smell. Your breath, your hair, your perfume, your sweat. Do you know what I don’t smell? Fear. That’s right. Hold my gaze in the mirror. I want to watch your eyes. I have questions for you.
Look at yourself. Is that woman in the mirror less than complete?
Don’t just shake your head. I want to hear you say it.
That’s right. Say this: “I am beautiful.”
Look into my eyes though. Say it again.
Mmm. Yes. You are beautiful. Say “I am complete.”
Don’t try to distract me. You can play with that as much as you want later. I want to hear you say it.
[laugh] Yes. Say “I am sexy as hell and I want you to destroy me.”
Fuck. [laugh ]Yes. Mmmm. Baby. Look at yourself. Your eyes are blazing. Watch my hand slip around your belly, slide up between your breasts, tracing your scar.
You see it now, don’t you? You see what I see. Yourself, naked and unashamed, desirable, fascinating. Look at you. Spread your legs a little. Mmm. A little more. That is the woman I know. Strong, daring, dangerous. I want you.
Watch my hands- dark inked over your skin. My fingertips looking at you. Soaking up your heat, the perk of your breast, the smooth of your throat. Watch my left hand circle your navel once, twice, slip down between your legs. You look beautiful. You smell beautiful. You feel fantastic. Fuck. I want to taste you.
Mmm. We’ll do it any way you want next time. You can’t see the mirror on the floor though. Sit on the edge of the bed. Watch me on my knees, tasting you. Mmm.
[cunnilingus]
Mmm. I want to fuck you now. put your hands on the mirror.
Don’t close your eyes. That’s for next time. Any other time. Tonight you watch me admire you. Just watch… and feel. Oh god. Baby. You’re so strong. I can feel you hold me, press me. Wait a moment, hold this breath with me…
Ffuck. I’m going to pound you raw, make you watch yourself be certain. The look in your eyes. This is not the book store opening look. This is not the tattoo wince, this is not weeping. This is you being a force of fucking nature. You’re a goddess. Look at you!
[fucking, breathless]
Look how gone you are. Caught up. Lost in now. Come for me. Come for yourself. Come, baby.
[improv along these lines until her orgasm]
You’re gonna make me come, baby. [improv until his orgasm]
[Long beat]
You can close your eyes now, if you want. Remember what you did to me. What we did, what you can still do. You rooted me and I made you blaze. Touch my ink. These roots are your welcome here, and there’s so much more space on my skin for more.