Maybe something like a first tattoo or piercing? With Mitch maybe? Or Auston.
A/N: This was requested as part of my 500 follower celebration. Sorry it has taken me so long to start getting these out, but be on the lookout for more of these requests in the coming days/ weeks.
This is another installment of the Auston Matthews X Friend Series, providing a little more insight into their friendship.
TW: It's basically pure fluff, but there is mentions of needles and tattoo's (obviously) and mentions of drinking and sex (no actual smut)
What are you doing tomorrow?
It was such a simple and easy question, something you had asked Auston hundreds of times throughout your more than a decade long friendship. He could practically smell the alcohol through the speaker as he told you he was going to the gym in the morning, which, given the fact it was almost 3am and you were just crawling into bed, you were thankful for. You barely remember the phone call or making lunch plans together and would have thought it was a dream if not for the 10am Postmates delivery of coffee and a breakfast sandwich he sent to your house.
He fully thought by the time you sobered up your mind would have changed, and you’d be hungover and in a cuddly mood. That’s why after the gym he went home and showered, then changed into a pair of trackpants and simple grey t-shirt along with a pair of slides, the perfect ensemble to lounge on the couch and tease you for the drunk and incoherent rambling you put him through the night before.
But to his surprise you opened the door, ready to take on the day. A bright red scoop neck t-shirt and your favourite denim shorts - the ones you got in high school that are likely a little too short from your senior year growth spurt; but they look amazing, and you haven’t managed to part with them. Your hair was simply styled, and your makeup appeared effortless, a slight glow to the cheekbones the only evidence you were wearing any.
“Oh, hi,” he stammered out awkwardly, taking you in. “You’re ready?”
“Yes,” your face scrunched up and you let out an airy laugh. “We have plans, so I got ready.” You playfully glanced up and down him then quirked your eyebrow.
“I just thought you’d be hungover,” he grinned, accepting that you looked infinitely better than he did. “Let’s go.”
Auston led you to the car, and even opened the door for you. Putting it in drive, you picked up his phone, put in the pin – something you long ago learned – and started scrolling through his Spotify. You went to a café for lunch, and even managed to convince him to eat the brownie you ordered, something he reluctantly indulges in even in the off-season. He of course pulled out his wallet and paid, even though you objected. You said that since you invited him, you should pay, and he just shook his head and grinned because it still baffles him that you try after all this time.
“Alright, you ready?” you clapped your hands and rubbed them together.
“For what?” the engine turned over and air conditioning began to pump through the vents.
“My tattoo?” Quirking an eyebrow, you glanced over the center console at him. “We talked about it last night.”
“I know, I just didn’t think you were serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I have been serious?” your arms crossed over your chest.
You aren’t actually offended by his statement or even the tone in which it was delivered. About a month ago he went to get a tattoo and mentioned it would take six hours, being the good friend that you are (and the fact that you hadn’t seen him in almost two months because of school) you offered to go with him and keep him company. As soon as the needle started your entire face contorted and for the first two hours you could barely watch what was happening.
“You were incredibly drunk,” he smirked back, but there is something about the way he looked at you that indicates there is more he wants to say. “You also talked about the sex you had with Mike, and his uncircumcised dick.” Heat flooded your cheeks and eyes went wide enough to be seen under the tinted lenses of your sunglasses. You and Auston have always had a fairly open friendship, talking about almost anything and everything, but those intimate details were typically kept for Sarah and Kayla. “So, you’re not a fan of hoods?” he grinned through the words.
“Auston!” you tried to scold, but it was no use, he was toying with you and best not feed into it. “Oh my god, you need to stop right now,” an uncomfortable laugh is all that can be managed as the entire slurred conversation from last night came rushing back.
“You didn’t last night,” knowing you for this long means he isn’t going to let you off that easy. “And apparently Mike didn’t either,” he smirked deviously. “I believe the term energizer bunny was used.”
Pulling your bottom lips between your teeth, you let out a shaky exhale, whishing you were anywhere but there. As much as Auston loves to tease you, he also knows that he has two options: One – Incessantly tease you until you can’t take anymore, and you bring up some blunder or indiscretion he has done and threaten to tell everyone in your friend group if he brings it up again. Two – leave it there, and one day maybe a week, a month or a year from now, bring it up again, pestering you just enough to get under your skin. The second option is always his favourite.
“I’m just messing with you,” his face softened, and he shot you a warm smile. “But you actually want to get a tattoo?”
“Yeah,” you spoke quietly.
“Where?”
“Uh…here” your hand trembled slightly as you brought it up to your shoulder blade.
“No,” he chuckled. “Where am I driving?”
“Oh,” you shook your head attempting to free yourself of the embarrassment and unlocked your phone. Tpying in the name you showed him the screen with the address
Auston winked at you one last time, then he set out on the short trek through the streets of Scottsdale. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore, responding merely with one-word answers. He didn’t take the hint. He kept talking, joking, doing anything to stop you from stewing in your own embarrassment and eventually you gave in (because you always do) and fell back into an easy conversation with him. He asked about the tattoo, and you told him how you booked it a week ago, but it wasn’t until the time drew closer that you realized you needed someone with you. You told him about the design you picked, and the meaning it held, and he smiled hearing you talk about it with such excitement even through your nerves.
“You ready?” He looked at you and could tell you were anxious.
Standing inside the studio the realization of what’s to come hit you, the potential for pain and discomfort. “Yeah,” you gulped harshly.
“You don’t have –“
“You have to hold my hand the entire time,” your eyes instantly dart to his, white fear blanketing your face.
“Yup,” he quickly nodded in response.
Reaching down you shakily tugged at the hem of your shirt and pulled it off, Auston never let his eyes drift downward. “Have to talk to me, distract me.”
He nodded again. “Obviously.”
“And you’re buying me ice cream after this,” you smirked at him wishfully.
“Of course.” The smile that followed was wide and reached his eyes, reminiscent of the eight-year-old boy who introduced himself at the playground your first day after moving. It’s the kind of smile you have seen countless times throughout the years, the type of smile that instantly grounds you.
Climbing onto the table, Auston set a chair immediately in front of you. The two of you talked with Ashley when she stepped in about the tattoo and the overall look you were going for. When it came time for her to lay the stencil down, Auston pushed a few of your baby hairs that couldn’t reach the ponytail to the side, and softly rubbed his thumb over your neck. When the needle first turned on, you instantly grabbed Auston’s hand and he placed a soft kiss to the back of your palm, whispering that he loved you.
“Some guys don’t even talk to their girl, let alone stay,” Ashley said, first bringing the needle to your back. Wincing momentarily, Ashley eased up on the pressure and you let out the exhale you had been holding onto. “You’re lucky to have such a supportive boyfriend.”
“Oh he’s –“ you trailed off and tears pricked the corner of your eyes when the needle pressed back into your skin.
“Yeah,” Auston shrugged it off so tactfully, unphased by the assumption so many have about your friendship. He continued to look at you, a smile playing on his lips, “she is lucky to have me.”
