Clouds: I hate when clouds obstruct my view of something.. Like, a view at the top of a mountain hike or if I go for a night drive and I can’t see the moon and stars.
Pancakes: when they’re left too long in syrup and get super soggy and gross.
Jack Falahee: Wow, Sam.. lol. Okay, ummm, I hate that he always does one second snapchats, haha.
send me literally anything and ill tell you something i hate about it
apollo: i rlly like “cherry wine” by hozier it’s a gorgeous songdemeter: i mean i like summer best bc no school buthestia: um like a nice big house that’s like u know nice color scheme cozy big library etc
Tattoo artist AU. Written on my phone (hence any typos).
The first time he goes in to get a watercolor tattoo of a phoenix on the back of his right shoulder. He runs into Oliver online. Each review raves of Oliver Hampton’s skill and patience. There aren’t many artists who have the style he wants, but Oliver fits the bill.
It just so happens that he falls in love. Well, love is too stong of a word, Connor decides. But Oliver has a charming, sweet smile that catches Connor off-guard and leaves him wondering when cute started to be his type. Connor can swear too that when he first takes off his shirt that Oliver takes him in. But he doesn’t have much time to figure it out between taking it off and lying down on his stomach.
It feels like a few years pass between his first appointment and his touch up, but he hopes he doesn’t come off as too eager.
When Oliver finishes, gives him a warm smile, and shakes his hand, Connor feels the disappointment bubble in his stomach.
- - -
He comes back a month later for another tattoo. It’s a small lightning bolt - a Harry Potter reference of course - on his wrist. It’s easy enough to cover up with a watch since professionally he won’t be able to have it in the office when he gets a job. In all honesty, it’s not even that he really wants it. He just misses Oliver.
Oliver beams as he sees him. “Hey, you look well.”
“I do? I mean, yeah.” Connor hates how he gets around Oliver. He’s known for being suave and debonair with other men, but something about Oliver makes his stomach flip. “How about yourself? ”
“Can’t complain.” He pulls out the forms and takes Connor’s ID. “How’s law school going? Columbia, right?”
He’s surprised that Oliver remembers. “Yeah.” Surprised but pleased.
They don’t get a chance to talk as much as Connor would want, and the tattoo - as small as it is - barely takes much time. Still, there is something oddly intimate about Oliver bending over him. It stings less than his other tattoo.
When they finish, Oliver pauses at the door to the room and turns back to Connor. “How’s the other tattoo?”
“It’s good,” Connor says, and before Oliver has a chance to reply, he slides his shirt over his head and tosses it to the ground. Oliver’s breath catches, and he stares at Connor.
“Yeah, you look good. I mean – it looks good.” He steps forward, and his fingers press lightly to the tattoo. His index finger runs along the wings, and Connor bites his lip.
“Oliver…” He leans in, and Oliver does too, but there’s a knock at the door.
“Yo, Olls, your 3:30 ‘pointment is here,” a voice calls. Oliver steps back and avoids Connor’s eyes.
“Asher’s calling. I should probably…” He leaves before Connor has time to tell him to stay or ask him to coffee, and he asks Asher to check him out at the register for him.
“You two getting it on – homo à homo?” Asher asks, waggling his eyebrows.“
“What, no?” Connor’s face pulls into a sneer, and Asher just laughs.
“Fair, man. No judgment from me. Fight the power and all that. Just noticed the way you look at Olls.”
“Right. Can I pay?”
“Want to leave a tip?”
“Uhh, twenty… twenty-five percent.”
“Damn. Knew you liked him,” Asher says with a smirk. Connor just lifts his middle finger.
- - -
The next time, he comes in to ask about piercing his ears. He doesn’t have any desire to, but he knows Oliver will be there. He comes in when Oliver is finishing up his tattoo on a client and spends fifteen minutes talking with Asher.
“No offense, bro, but you don’t seem like the type who’d get his ears pierced. Sure you’re not just here for Olls?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” he lies through his teeth. “I wanted to get them…” He mimes stretching them out, though he knows that no one will hire him if he gets gages.
He ignores Asher’s response and wonders if Oliver will come out soon. It doesn’t take too long before Oliver gets out, all smiles, but when he sees Connor, he freezes.
“You have an appointment with someone else to get your tat done?” Oliver asks, and Connor would swear that he sounds betrayed.
“No, no. I was just here to ask about… getting my ears pierced.” Connor flushes as Oliver raises an eyebrow.
“Pretty sure he just wanted to see you,” a girl says. She’s been sitting there quietly since he came, and Connor hasn’t failed to notice her resting bitch face. But she just ignores him when he glares.
“Oh, you have? I’m done with my shift…”
“I wanted to ask you… about a tattoo idea, then.” It’s a lie he doesn’t know why he says, but it’s too late to take it back. Oliver nods his head encouragingly.
“I could walk with you to the subway or something…” The girl clears her throat, and Oliver’s face falls. “Wait, I can’t. Wes is coming to grab me and Rebecca, and we’re all going to dinner. Sorry…”
“You can join us, Ivy League,” Rebecca says. Connor doesn’t like the way she looks at him – where he can’t tell if she’s making fun of him or not.
“I’ll catch you another time, Oliver,” he just says.
- - -
The next time he comes, he doesn’t know what he wants, but he makes an appointment anyway. There’s no use going through polite pretense. He’ll pay Oliver, but he has to see him.
“You want a tattoo on your hip?” Oliver asks as he closes the door. “Are you sure? I mean, it just doesn’t seem like your style.”
“I was thinking maybe an amperstsnd since I like to write or – shit, surprise me.” Connor fiddles nervously with his hands, and Oliver sighs. “Take off your pants.” Connor tugs them down as Oliver continues to speak. “We’ll need to decide if you want it above your waistline or lower or –” He cuts off as he turns around and sees Connor.
“I - umm - generally go commando.”
“I can see that.” Oliver’s eyes scan him down, and he lets out a small whimper. “Connor…”
“I want you just as much as you want me.”
“You’re not here for a tattoo?”
“Idiot,” Connor murmurs affectionately and steps forward. Oliver’s arms wrap around him. He holds him close before reaching down and wrapping a hand around Connor’s cock. Connor bucks up and moans, and Oliver’s eyes darken. He pushes them backward until Connor is leaning against the table and drops to his knees.
Connor clutches the table and whines as Oliver takes him down all the way. He’s not enitely sure why he didn’t expect that of Oliver. Connor supposes it has something to do with how shy Oliver was, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it now. He reached down, his fingers weaving into Oliver’s hair as Oliver runs his tongue along the underside of his cock and then runs it over the head. “Jesus, fuck, you’re amazing at that,” Connor says. Oliver chuckles around him, and he closes his eyes.
It doesn’t take him long to come. He can feel it build up in the pit of his stomach. Oliver feels the way his fingers tighten around his hair and speeds up. He hollows out his cheeks, and Connor lets go. Oliver pulls back with a satisfied smirk, and as soon as Connor muster the energy, he pulls Oliver to his feet and kisses him.
His hands fumble at Oliver’s belt and with the button and zipper of his pants. Oliver helps by pulling off his shirt, revealing several tattoos. Connor pauses for a moment to trace his fingers over several of them, including a quote in what must be Tagalog. He wants to ask, but Oliver interrupts him. “Is now really the time, Con?”
He’s thankful for the condom and the small packet of lube he carries around in his wallet, and before he knows it, he has Oliver with his back against the wall, his legs wrapped around Connor’s waist. Connor whines as he holds Oliver up and rocks into him. Oliver’s free hand goes to his own cock, and Connor lets out a lewd moan at the sight of him.
Oliver comes first, and Connor is just a few rocks behind him. Oliver kisses him sloppily and wraps his arms around Connor. “God finally,” he says, and Connor smiles before pressing a kiss to his temple. A knock at the door jars them both out of their reverie.
“Browski, your 4 o'clock will be here any time now. Also, this room isn’t soundproof, so you two clean up. You’re gonna be working out of the other room today until we have that shit sanitozed.” Asher’s words make both of their eyes widen. Connor breaks down laughing, and Oliver groans.
“I’m never living that one down,” Oliver says.
“Doesn’t sound like it.” Connor presses one last kiss to Oliver’s lips before grabbing his clothes. “Can we grab dinner when you get off your shift?”
