Work Header

from hip to chest

Work Text:

Jamie doesn’t tell Tyler about the appointment ahead of time. The work’s small, small enough that Tyler won’t have to talk himself into sitting. He books them in for the morning, too, hoping Tyler won’t be awake enough to ask the right questions.

When Jamie looks over, he’s leaning against the passenger-side window, eyes closed, and humming. He has a loose hand on the edge of his seat and his wrist brushes Jamie’s knuckles every time he changes gear.

He’s already asked about breakfast twice, seemingly content with Jamie’s, “Soon.” He’s still half-worried that Tyler’s going to start looking around and guess, but he doesn't get his ink done in Dallas. Tyler hasn’t even had coffee yet, either, something he’s grown reliant on with Jamie’s influence; he didn’t even have the foresight to turn his phone on before they left.

Jamie lets out a long breath when he parks. Shakes his head when it takes Tyler a moment to realize that they’ve even stopped. He sits up straighter, blinking.

“Where are we?”

Jamie can feel himself going red and he waves his hand in lieu of a real explanation. “I thought, you know, that since we can’t play with these on,” he says, slipping his wedding band off his finger, “that this,” and he gestures outside, “would work better.”

“What would…,” Tyler starts, pinched look to his face. “Oh. Oh,” he says, face smoothing out once he sees the parlour. He looks down at his ring—the thin silver of it—and slowly takes it off. Puts it in the centre of Jamie’s palm. “That’s. I like that idea.” His mouth curled into what looks like an embarrassed smile, but Jamie knows. It’s warmth and fondness and awe, just a little bit. He nods his head. “I really like that.”

“Good,” Jamie says. “I thought you would.” He reaches around to unclasp the chain around his neck and Tyler watches him as he threads their two rings onto it. How they settle down below his collarbones when he does it back up. Tyler’s fingers feeling across his own ink, from his elbow to his wrist. Quiet sound of white-gold. “Well, I wanted you to.”

Tyler frowns. It’s enough to make Jamie bite his lip, second-guess himself. “Like I wouldn’t want to get tatted up with my husband.” He flicks Jamie in the ear. “You gotta be kidding me.”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s pretty permanent, man.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re pretty permanent.” Tyler tries to say it semi-seriously, but he’s on the edge of laughing, taking all the weight out of it. It’s ridiculous and so Tyler that Jamie lets out his own aborted laugh, lets Tyler tuck his head under his chin and wait for his breathing to right.

“We are, though.”

Jamie nods. “We are.”


At Tyler’s insistence, Jamie sits first. He doesn’t mind the feeling much, good at staying relaxed and letting the end result outweigh any too-sharp sparks of pain. Tyler’s by his side, anyways, holding his right hand in the both of his. Jamie lets him, because he knows that Tyler needs to. Has had Jamie do it. He keeps looking between the needle and Jamie’s face in equal measure, mouth in a line. Grip tight.

Jamie doesn’t spend a whole lot of time watching the ink go down.

It’s a simple design—two parallel lines, one black and one green. Just thin enough to be hidden by his actual ring. The artist wipes the blood off in quick strokes, latex'd fingers moving carefully on Jamie’s skin as she uncovers the tattoo. Lets Jamie hold it up for Tyler’s inspection when it’s finished.

“So?” he asks.

Tyler touches his thumb to Jamie’s fingernail, voice soft. “Perfect.” A little louder, for the room: “It’s perfect.” He holds onto Jamie, face gone decisive. “Can you do the same for me?” he asks, directing it towards the artist.

She nods. Smile warm.

Jamie feels light-headed.

“Just let me get cleaned up here and then we can get started, okay?” she says, pulling off her gloves.

Tyler swallows, thumb now pressing into his first knuckle. Gone white under the pressure. There’s a faraway smile across his lips and his pupils are blown. Jamie leans up to kiss the underside of his chin from where he’s sitting and the skin there tastes like sweet and salt. Tyler shivers.



“Just wait. I want to get a picture.” Tyler wiggles his fingers. “Gotta show these off.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, but he extends his hand outwards. Tyler still Instagrams every meal Jamie makes for him and pretty much every time Marshall barks, so. He lets Tyler squish in beside him, hot everywhere they’re touching, and put his hand next to Jamie’s. Can see it shaking under the lens.

Jamie doesn’t hear the synthesized click of the camera, but Tyler is quick to show him the result.

“Yeah?” he asks.

Their hands look too-white and a little grainy in the sunlight, floating over the pavement, shadows carved down to their wrists. The bands are visible, though. Bright on their skin. Tyler leans his head on Jamie’s shoulder as he traces over the curve of Tyler’s palm on-screen, presses a kiss behind Jamie’s ear. Waiting.

“Yeah,” he says.

Tyler grins at him. “And now we just…” Thumbs moving quickly across the screen. Tap and slide. He offers his phone up to Jamie. “There.”

tseguin92 Stuck with me now #prettypermanent