Your Pretty (Gay) Flower Boy
In all four years of working in the tattoo parlor, Ryan would have never guessed that his customer that Sunday morning would be the little flower boy from across the street. Philip Evans was a cashier boy that worked right across the street in a flower shop. From what Ryan could tell, he really liked his job, he got along well with the customers (for being as shy as he was), and he enjoyed taking care of the plants that grew there. Ryan had gone in once and ordered a few flowers for his friend's birthday and Philip didn't seem at all the kind of guy who'd be standing in front of the Inking's Tattoo Parlor's desk. The poor kid kept glancing to the side, fidgeting with the hem of his floral patterned apron with a blush that showed up more on his shoulders and ears than his cheeks.
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"I want to get," he hummed, looking over the laminated packet of designs. "the rose. On my upper arm, if you don't mind." Ryan couldn't help but cringe. "Are you sure you wanna get one of these? You don't seem like the kind of guy who'd want a tattoo." It's not like he wanted to lose buisness, but the nervous look in Philip's eyes made him take the packet away from him. "It'll hurt, you know." Philip's eyes glanced to the side, pushing himself up in the black leather chair. With him laying down, Ryan was almost eye level with him while he was sitting on the low rolling chair. A few moments passed without protest so Ryan took hold of his upper arm and started cleaning it with an alcohol pad. The sound of the music in the background was faint, but it still overweighed the aching silence that the both of them hated. Ryan slipped on a pair of black latex gloves before reaching toward to Philip's arm. He was as steady with him as any other patient albeit a tad gentler. He'd kept shushing him when he was sure Philip would start whimpering - and he did. By the end of it there were tear streaks marking the boy's cheeks. He was surprisingly cooperative, though. When he was at the couter to pay, Philip let out a long sigh. "I can cross that off my bucket list now, right?"
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When Ryan came to work the next day, he passed by the flower shop and looked through the glass window to see Philip leaning over the counter on his elbow. He looked miserably bored. Ryan steeled himself and walked into the small shop, the fragrance of nature smacking him in the face like a brick. It was definetly better than the sweaty back room he was used to. "Philip, right? I didn't know if you would want this or not," Ryan set a small bottle of clear liquid on the counter. "It's the same brand I use to keep my tattoos cleaned." The brunette looked down at him and smiled softly in thanks. Ryan found out that he really liked that smile - it was a soft, barely visable smile, but it reached and shone in the midnight blue eyes that Philip had. It was an embarrassed smile, and he knew why. "You really didn't want that tattoo, did you?" "No, not really. I did it to get a few friends of mine off my back," he laughed bitterly. "A bunch of jerks. But you did a really good job on it, and it doesn't hurt as much, so, thanks." Philip was standing straight up then and he was so beautifully awkward that Ryan couldn't help but stutter and turn red when the boy tilted his chin into his shoulder with a blush and chuckle. Apparently, whenever Philip blushed it never made it to his cheeks (he guessed he just couldn't see it over Philip's darker skin tone). It just stopped at his shoulders and moved down his back and arms. God, he wanted to protect this kid with his life. When he got to the tattoo parlor, he was fifteen minutes late opening the doors. Monday was a really slow day. Ryan wished Tuesday was as slow as Monday, though. There were people coming in left and right, not all of them getting tattoos, either. A lot of them just came to browse through some of the art examples, and some chickened out, but at least he got to grasp delicately at some old guy's foot for twenty minute while drawing Mickey Mouse. Sad to say, that was the highlight of his day. When Wednesday came, he was a bit shocked to see a small Juniper bonsai sitting on the counter. Ryan plucked the tag off of it gently, unfolding the paper and holding it closer so he could read it. "I kinda lied on Monday, and I felt bad about it. I got the tattoo because I was too chicken to actually talk to you without needing an actual reason. So, accept this cute little tree as a thanks. Directions for it are on the back. Feel free to call if you need any help with it!" On the bottom was Philip's signature and a phone number. Yeah, Ryan was definitely going to keep a careful watch on his embarrassed little Flower Boy.