#jay castillo has lots of tattoos

[something-tofightfor]

Nightingale - Part 7

Pairing: Jay Castillo x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,624

Rating: Not Safe For Work. This is happening. Finally. Smut. Sex. Jay’s tattoos. It’s all happening. 

Summary: With no more reason to keep your interactions platonic, you and Jay take things to the bedroom ... and what happens there isn’t going to stay there. 

He opens up about some parts of his past that you weren’t expecting to learn, and clues you in on a few of the decisions he’s made in the more recent past ... but most importantly, he shows you how much he wants you ... and you show him what it feels like to be truly appreciated. 

Author’s note:

I have been wanting to give this to them since the minute I started writing this story. I’m SO HAPPY it’s finally happening. Thanks for being patient with me while I wrote 100k of Dieter and a bunch of Joel and even some Oberyn and Nico and Javi G. You guys are the best and I can’t thank you enough. 

Catch up on the first five parts here: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

You’d seen the inside of Jay’s bedroom the first time you were in the loft, the man pushing the door open to show you a few pieces of artwork that hung on the walls, but you’d never stepped into it until that night. And you didn’t step into it so much as he dragged you there, his eyes never leaving your face. “Open or shut?” Speaking quietly but clearly, Jay gestured to the door with a slight tilt of his chin. “Don’t want to -”

“Open’s fine. No one’s going to come in, right?” You knew the answer already, but were trying to keep things light because the second you let yourself think too hard about what was going on, you were going to lose it. Not because you didn’t want to go to bed with him, but because you couldn’t believe that it was happening. As you stared at him, you widened your eyes in realization. Oh, shit. “Finally get to see your tattoos, don’t I?” 

“You do.” He grinned, squeezing your hands before he let go of them, both arms hanging by his sides. “And I’m gonna be honest with you, I’m excited.” Excited? Wny? “You’ll figure it out as soon as you see ‘em.” He stepped closer again, the man’s chest rising and falling. “But.” He reached for you, his fingers trailing slowly up your arm to your elbow and then back down, fingers tangling with yours. “There’s no hurry.” 

He was right. You had no time limit, no reason to rush to end the night early - no more reason to be respectful of the man’s marital status. The two of you didn’t have to worry about only seeing each other for a period of time that was considered appropriate - and at that realization, you grinned, squeezing Jay’s hand. “No, there isn’t… but that doesn’t mean that I’m any less curious, Jay.” You saw the dimple in his cheek when he gave you a return smile, Jay’s tongue swiping over his lower lip to wet it. 

“Will you stay here tonight?” He was nervous to ask, you could hear it in his voice. “I know you didn’t plan on it, but -” “If you want me to.” The hand he wasn’t holding rose, palm pressed flat against his chest. “I’d like that a lot.” He seemed relieved at your words, the man nodding at you without breaking eye contact. “I’ll need something to sleep in, I don’t usually wear jeans to bed.” “Will you?” One eyebrow arched, Jay cleared his throat. “I usually sleep in just my underwear, and you’re more than welcome to do the same.” He paused. “Or even in less, if you want.” You hadn’t wanted to assume, but his words sent a jolt straight into the pit of your stomach, heat spreading from where it landed. You’d known that he wanted you - that he was attracted to you and that by leading you into his bedroom, it was going to lead to you baring your body to him in a way that even a few hours earlier, you hadn’t been sure was the probable. But he’s telling me I don’t need to get dressed again after, and that … that’s huge. 

Jay hadn’t seemed like the type that would kick someone out of bed, but getting confirmation from him gave you more confidence, and you pulled your hand from his, bringing it to the center of his chest next to your other one. “Guess we’ll have to see how that goes, hmm?” Both of you were stalling, trying to prolong the moments before things really got underway, and you didn’t know why - except that you were nervous. “You make me nervous, Jay.” Murmuring the words, you broke eye contact. “Not used to -” “You’re nervous? I’m terrified.” He tried to laugh at the end of it, but the sound was choked. What? Why? “Didn’t think I’d ever be in this position again.” Jay leaned in, his lips moving over the skin of your temple. “Having to figure out someone’s body for the first time, trying to guess what they like.” Your fingers curled against his chest as he pressed his lips against the side of your face. “What they need.” He moved lower, breath warm on your cheek. “What you want.” 

His tone was so low that you were stunned at the sound of it, barely concealing a quiet moan. I want you. That’s what I want. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, Jay?” Taking a long breath, you collected your thoughts. “Start there.” 

“I want you to tell me what I should take off first.” He spoke into your ear, both hands resting half on your hips, half on your lower back. “What you want to see first.” He let you think, the man’s lips toying with the lobe of your ear. You wanted to see it all - wanted to take in every inch of him without looking away, letting him know that you were interested in all that he had to offer. But we have to start somewhere. 

“Let’s save the elephant for later.” Turning your head slightly, you felt his teeth catch on your ear before it was free. “Start with your shirt.” You knew yourself well enough to know that the moment you got his pants off, you wouldn’t be able to stick to any sort of plan. Want him so much, and I can’t… I can’t risk going too fast. Jay nodded in agreement, and as he slotted his mouth over yours, he used both hands to push you away enough to put space between your bodies, the man’s hands moving from your waist at the same moment he dipped his tongue between your lips again. 

He slid both palms up and over your forearms, the movement slow as you deepened the kiss, and when his fingers encircled your wrists and lowered your hands, it took you a few seconds to realize what he was doing. “Take it off.” He sighed, the bite of his teeth sharp but not unpleasant as he dragged them over your lower lip. “You wanna see, take it off.” Gathering the material between your fingers, you began to lift it, exposing the skin of his abdomen inch by inch. He let go when it was time, and you could feel that he was watching you, though your eyes were locked on his midsection and the golden skin exposed to you the more you lifted. “That’s good.” He was still speaking quietly, Jay’s arms lifting enough so that you could pull the shirt up and over his elbows before he lowered them. 

You watched as the muscles in his chest and shoulders flexed, the neckline catching on his head for a brief moment before it came free, and then Jay was naked from the waist up, both hands hanging down by his sides as he waited. But there’s nothing… nothing on his chest or stomach, or … He was thin - you’d known that from seeing him previously, the man’s waist narrow, the muscles of his abdomen mostly taut, but he was solid, and that was especially true the higher up on his torso you looked. He seemed even broader without a shirt on, the tanned skin of his chest scattered with dark freckles and almost no hair to speak of, but it was his neck that you focused on,  the sleek curves of muscle, the way that the dip at the center of his throat was pronounced, skin moving slightly with every swallow. 

You couldn’t ignore it after a few seconds, lowering your head and kissing him there, the tip of your tongue flicking out briefly to sink into the space, skin hot against it. “I’m sorry, I …” But when you looked up at him, you knew that you had no reason to be sorry, that he’d been as surprised as you were that you’d done it - but that he didn’t mind. “Where are all these tattoos, Jay? You said -” “You’re looking at the wrong part of me.” Tilting his head to one side, Jay raised a brow. They’re there.” The wrong part? What does that even… You caught a glimpse then, black ink on his skin in the mirror across the room, and you saw him grin at the sight of your eyes widening. “There you go.” The two of you moved together toward the mirror, and before you could stop him, Jay turned away from you, exposing his entire back to your greedy eyes. “I told you, I -” “You got the tree first.” Speaking quietly, you stared at the ink - only black and gray and white, the branches twisting out as they spread over his shoulder blade and up, the outline of a moon visible between the branches. “Can I touch it, Jay? I don’t want -” “You can touch me anywhere you want to.” Meeting his eyes in the mirror, you were shocked with the tone he used - strained but sincere, both of the man’s hands shoved into his front pockets like he needed to keep them contained to keep them to himself. “I mean it.” With a fingertip, you traced the design, following the flow of it as you familiarized yourself with the artwork. But wait. Frowning, you leaned in, your thumb swiping over one of the sections of the tattoo. “It’s there. You’re not imagining it.” Glancing up, he nodded. “Look at my other shoulder.” 

You hadn’t yet, but when you did, you immediately understood why Jay had been so excited for you to see his ink - and to do your tattoo in the first place. “It all makes sense now.” Shifting your position, you leaned closer, eyes moving over the inked lines and curves. “You drew this.” You were certain of it, and the more you stared, the more you believed it. “It’s gorgeous, Jay. You -” 

“I did.” He shifted his shoulder slightly and you couldn’t hold in the slight gasp at the movement  of his skin - and what it did to the tattoo. “Picked the placement too, but that -” 

“There’s …” You touched him then, carefully running a fingertip over a portion of the tattoo. “There’s a scar underneath it. You’re covering a scar with …” “I am.” He didn’t say anything else, and you continued to look at his back, eyes moving along with the gentle swipe of your finger. The tree and both birds had been two separate tattoos - it was easy to tell, though the space between them wasn’t empty, instead filled with additional, smaller trees and tiny bird-like shapes in various places to tie it together. The dimensions were slightly off, but you knew that if you hadn’t been looking so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “The tree was first. When I was 16. You look really close and you can see the original design, but I got it fixed later.” You did what he said, eyes on the man’s back and the way that the tattoos themselves were done in layers - each one adding something new to the overall design. I see the original, but … 

“Whoever did this did good work.” Your eyes moved back to the other side - to the birds - one of them perched on a forked branch, wings tightly tucked against the rounded body, the other one in the process of landing, both wings fanned out behind it. It was in those wings that the scar was hidden. And hidden well, despite the fact that when you touched his skin you could feel it - a thin, raised line that extended for a few inches, curving around the shape of the back of his shoulder. “Will you tell me about the birds, Jay? Tell me what they mean to you?” 

You were still touching him, eyes on his skin and your fingers, but when you flicked them up to catch his attention once again, you saw that his were sparkling, amusement filling them. But are you making that face because of my reaction, or because we both have bird tattoos that obviously mean something to us? It didn’t matter what the answer was, because both options meant something, and so you waited to see what he’d say. 

“Scar’s from a shoulder surgery.” He cleared his throat, laughing quietly. “Was on vacation with some friends one summer in Nevada, and we were fucking around on some ATVs. Got mine too close to the edge where there was a dropoff, and I went over.” Gasping at his story, your fingers froze. “Reached up to try to grab a branch so that the damn thing didn’t land on top of me at the bottom, and ended up fucking up my shoulder bad enough to need surgery.” 

“Better than the alternative.” He agreed, and you realized that you’d transitioned from touching him with only your fingertips to rubbing slow circles over his skin with your palm, the other hand settled against his waist with your chin resting atop his shoulder so that you could keep your eyes on him via the mirror as he spoke. 

“Anyway, we were down a ride, and so it meant that we wouldn’t all fit to get back to the cabins. So my buddy and I waited while our friends rode back to get help. I would have gone, but I couldn’t lift my arm, and my grip was fucked. He shrugged. “We waited there for them to come back an’ get us out of there. The whole time we were waiting, there were these birds hanging out by where we were, a ton of ‘em, and they just stuck around no matter what we did or how loud we were.” 

“They look familiar.” You squeezed his shoulder and then stepped out from behind him, inching between Jay and the mirror and shaking your head. “But I’m not sure what -”

“Magpies. Stupid name, but after everything was done, I looked ‘em up.” This is where it gets interesting, I bet. “They mean a lot of different shit depending on what you believe, but …” Jay wet his lips. “Good fortune. Being resourceful and lucky. Meeting challenges. Being witty.” You cracked a smile at that and so did he. “So it seemed right. Wanted to cover the scar, so I thought - “ “I love that. It’s perfect. And the scar’s hidden in a wing. So it’s like your arm was your wing, and and the fact that you weren’t alone - and were able to grab the branch was the luck.” “Yep.” He closed the distance between you, kissing you again. “That’s the sentimental one, by the way. I love all my other tattoos, but they’re not as deep as that one, so…” He straightened up, winking at you.”Wanna see the other ones now?” 

You did, but you didn’t think it was fair that he was the only one taking clothing off, and so you moved to unbutton your jeans, wigging your hips in order to push them down far enough to where you could get them over your thighs. He watched silently, the man’s chest rising and falling with each breath, and then you’d kicked them over to your left, you brought your gaze back up, unsure of what you wanted to say. “It’s only fair, Jay.”

He still didn’t speak, but he did reach for his own jeans, the man’s lips twitching as he fought to keep the smile off of his face. What is he… You hummed in appreciation when you saw the man’s underwear - boxer briefs in a dark gray that clung to his thighs, but the moment his jeans cleared the bottoms of them, you gasped. Holy fuck. 

If you’d thought the ink on his back was impressively well done, it was nothing compared to what covered his leg - the top of the design emerging from beneath the fabric and running down the entire expanse of skin until it disappeared into the socks he still wore. “You’re playing dirty, Jay.” Tearing your eyes away from his leg, you shook your head. “A fucking sleeve? Your whole leg? It’s … it looks gorgeous, I -” 

“You can take a closer look if you want.” He lifted his foot, using one hand to remove his sock, and then when it joined the other clothes on the floor, he reached for the leg of his underwear, pulling it up and bunching the material up as far as it would go. “Turn the lamp behind you on.” You did as he told you and then dropped to one knee in front of him, eyes scanning the surface of the man’s leg. “Remember when I told you I had a bunch of people tattoo me?” He cleared his throat. “This one’s a work in progress, still got a couple small spaces to fill in and finish, but…”

“Can… Can I touch you?” Tilting your head back, you gestured with one hand. “I know you said I could touch you anywhere, but this is…” You were already annoyed with the way people reached for your arm without asking; you couldn’t imagine having such a visible - and extensive - tattoo. “Shit, Jay.” 

“You can.” He stepped slightly closer and lifted his foot to rest it on your knee, and as soon as it was firmly settled you reached for him with one hand, trailing the tips of your fingers over the man’s skin. “Wanted to keep it in line with what’s on my back - nature, being outside.” He hummed as you touched him, eyes scanning the design - and working from the bottom up. “So I came up with the theme, reached out to a couple other artists I knew… and I started.” 

“How long have you been working on it?” You looked up, head shaking back and forth. “It has to have taken hours, this is -”

“I started it about five years ago.” He laughed quietly. “And it wasn’t hours. Try days.” Days. He has days worth of ink on one leg and I thought that a couple sessions for an arm tattoo was a lot. “Did the whole outline in one go. Twelve and a half hours of actual tattooing with four different artists, and -”

“Twelve and a half?” You gasped. “Jay, how? Was your leg the size of a -” 

“Yeah.” He pointed to his knee. “And that bled like a sonofabitch, but it was the only way to make sure that everything fit and was included. I took breaks, but it was … a long day.” I don’t doubt that. “She did the compass and the ferns, if you were wondering.” Jay’s voice dropped and so did your eyes - finding the portion of the tattoo that he was referring to. His outer calf. Jay kept talking and you listened, eyes focused on the design as he explained the different parts to you and who’d done them. 

It was a cohesive design, and even though it all went together, you could see some stylistic differences in the sections done by different people, though they weren’t different enough to distract you, or take away from the overall design. I could look at this for hours.

The sleeve was black and gray and nature-themed, starting out at his ankle with the forest floor - pebbles and sticks and dirt that transitioned into plants - the ferns he’d mentioned and tall, waving grasses, a complicated-looking compass tucked between the blades. Mid-calf, the trees began, branches and leaves arranged to show the lower levels of growth, a far-off rock formation with running water included to both take up space and force perspective on the inside of his leg. 

Whoever’d done the section that included his knee had been smart about it - integrating the wrinkled skin into the beginnings of needled trees and their gnarled trunks, but it was the area on his outer thigh and up that truly impressed you - the forest opening up to reveal a vast mountain range, complete with more trees and clever shading to look like clouds in the night sky that stretched around his leg - and gave him the freedom to do less on the tender skin of the inside of his thigh without ignoring it completely. “It’s gorgeous, Jay.” 

You knew that the longer you looked, the more details you’d see. Jay pointed out that there were tiny animals hidden in the branches, symbols and letters carved into the tree trunks, rocks arranged in a specific manner - and even actual constellations depicted in the stars. “But before it was all done? Before the shading?” He laughed again, bothbrows raised. “It was a mess. It didn’t really look like anything, until maybe the second or third session.” 

“Do you have pictures?” You were genuinely curious, staring up at him as your fingers stroked over the inside of his knee. “I’d love to see the progress, if you want to show me.” He seemed surprised but nodded in agreement, telling you that he’d find them. Jay then licked his lips and used one hand to gesture to the other leg, your eyes following the movement. 

“Elephant.” You laughed in response, closing your eyes and biting your lip to stifle the sound. It was small - no bigger than a quarter - and on the inside of his thigh, the black ink slightly dull compared to the design on his other leg. “Told you it -” You interrupted him when you leaned forward, pressing your lips against the tattoo for long moments. “Woah.” He waved slightly on his feet, and you felt a slight twinge of satisfaction, but then you backed off, settling back onto your calves and looking up at him. 

You had an ideal vantage point from that view and drank in the sight of him, Jay’s hands loosely hanging at his sides, the material of his boxer briefs stretched tight over his lower body and showcasing the bulge in the front, a tiny wet spot visible. Hmm. He was turned on by your proximity, and the way you’d touched him - exploring the designs inked into his skin - had only added to that fact. “I like your tattoos, Jay.” Head cocked to one side, you nodded. “I wasn’t expecting these at all, but … I like them a lot.” 

“Yeah?” He reached out with one hand, waiting until you took it and then removed his foot from your knee, balancing himself before pulling you to your feet. “Well I like yours.” Tugging you closer, you were stunned when he kissed you again, dropping your hand and winding his arm around your waist, the other one flat against the center of your back. You could feel him pressing against your thigh, and despite the way he’d pulled you against his body without warning, your hands found purchase on his hips, both thumbs hooking beneath the elastic of his waistband. 

You’d figured that he would have made some comment about how you were at the perfect height on your knees, or that he would have been slower to pull you to your feet, but Jay was surprising you at every turn, the man’s hand slowly sneaking beneath the bottom hem of your shirt, his knuckles roaming over the skin there. 

He kissed you like he was trying to consume you, the movement of his lips becoming more urgent as the seconds passed, and with little surprise, you found yourselves moving closer to the bed, Jay’s back to it and yours facing the windows. Breathless when you pulled away from him, you tried to decide what you wanted to happen next, but Jay made the choice for you, his hands moving slowly and deliberately to the hem of your shirt before lifting it. “This alright?” 

Nodding to assure him it was, you helped him out, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and raising your arms. Only moments later, you were standing in front of him in a bra and underwear, Jay only in his boxer briefs, and each of you eyeing the other hungrily. “Do you have condoms, Jay?” You hated to be the one to ask, but it was a natural question - you figured that he and his wife hadn’t used them, and since he hadn’t had any reason to need them in the previous few months, not having them in the loft wouldn’t have shocked you. 

“I…” Jay closed his eyes, tucking his chin against his chest and laughed, reaching up with one hand to swipe it over the top of his head. “Yeah, I do, but …” He said your name and then held up one hand in a placating gesture. “Ah, fuck, you’re going to laugh.” I am? He turned away from you and bent over, reaching into one of the drawers of his nightstand to pull out a cylindrical container which he handed to you. “Monte bought them for me as a joke. I didn’t have a real bachelor party or anything, but he and Holly threw me a little party at the shop before the wedding, and… these were one of the presents.” 

It was a bright red tube, and as you turned it over in your hand to see what was written on it, you did laugh, eyes moving from what you held to Jay. “I didn’t even know they made these.” Bringing the tube up to eye level, you squinted. “So if you were going to get a tattoo on your -”

“First of all, I never would. That shit would be uncomfortable.” He snorted. “Second of all, no, I would not get flames or a tribal design tattooed on any part of my body, let alone my dick.” He took the container back, rolling his eyes. “The important thing is that yes, I do have condoms, and yes they are well within the expiration date.” Good. 

“Hmm.” You closed the distance between the two of you again, and Jay’s hands immediately went to your sides, the man stroking the skin over your ribs while he waited for you to continue. “Well now that that’s taken care of, maybe we can get to the fun part.” 

“You’re not having fun yet?” He pushed his lips out into a smirk, hands moving higher. “Because I am. Thought you could see that when -”

“Oh, I saw it.” Your hands were on his shoulders, thumbs moving over the lower part of his neck. “But you didn’t let me do anything about it.” He moved both hands to your back as you spoke, looking to unhook your bra. You watched the expression on his face change when he found no clasp and barely held back a giggle. “It’s in the front.” You paused. “Sorry. I should have said something.” 

He didn’t move his hands, though, instead ducking his head down and mouthing at the skin at the edge of the soft cotton of your bra as he urged your body closer to him. Oh, this is … I didn’t expect this from him, I … You hadn’t known what to expect from Jay, to be honest - but it certainly hadn’t been such a level of intimacy the first time you were together. You weren’t about to complain, though, the feeling of his strong hands holding you combined with the damp trail he was leaving on your chest difficult for you to ignore. 

When he nipped at your skin, you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, but that only spurred the man on, mouth moving more swiftly over the area. Jay alternated between the sides, never staying in one place for too long, but you actually cried out when he focused on the center of your chest - the man taking the connecting piece of plastic between his teeth and undoing it easily, the material separating when he let go. “I think you liked that.” He murmured the words as he pressed his lips to the skin he’d uncovered, and you made no move to correct him. I do like that. I do like this. 

It seemed unfair that he was so focused on you when all you could touch of him was his back and shoulders, but before you could request a change in position, Jay’s tongue flicked over one nipple, and you forgot what you were going to say. Dropping your hands long enough to let the bra fall from your body and onto the floor, the only thing you could focus on was the heat of his mouth and the way he lapped at your skin, the man using one hand beneath your breast to lift it, giving him easier access. “Fuck, Jay.” You panted the words out as the short hair on his head dragged against your chin, but as he went to move from one breast to the other, you stopped him, pushing on his shoulder to get his attention. You saw the confusion in his eyes but it disappeared almost immediately when you ran your hands down his torso, following them with your eyes. 

If he’d been partially hard before, he was fully engaged then, the wet spot on his underwear more prominent, the bulge more defined. “Why’d you stop me?” He was breathing hard, even as you began to ease the elastic down and toward his hips. ‘I was -” 

“Gonna have to take these off sometime. So why not now?” You lowered your gaze, wanting to see each inch of exposed skin as they became visible, and when you finally freed him from the confines of the soft cotton, you weren’t disappointed. Resiting the urge to wrap your fingers around him, you instead settled your hands on his hips, tilting your head toward the bed. “Wanna see what you look like with a green tattoo on your -”

Jay rolled his eyes but he quickly spun both of you so that you were closer to the bed than he was, the man leaning in to kiss you again. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” 

“Probably not.” You laughed, biting on his lower lip, and Jay smiled against your mouth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, Castillo.” Breaking out of his arms, you climbed into the bed, kneeling and reaching both hands out for the man, noticing that instead of moving right away, Jay just stared at you, brown eyes widening. What is he looking at? “Jay?”

Blinking at the same time he shook his head, Jay also got into the bed, the mattress dipping with his added weight. “I think …” He started, one large palm curved over your hip, the man’s thumb slipping beneath the lacy strip of material there. “I think I’m going to enjoy figuring out what you like.” He leaned into your touch, your fingers running through the short hair at the back of his head. “And I kinda hope it takes a while to get there.” I do, too. 

You knew that he was still reeling from his split with Kat, and that it probably wasn’t a good idea for Jay to be thinking of anything else long-term, but you couldn’t help the way your breath caught at the idea that he wanted something lasting between you, or that he was looking forward to more than one night of physical intimacy. Because I like him. “I hope it does too.” 

He was touching your other leg, too, but that hand was securely on your thigh, the pressure of his fingers grounding. “Do you want me to take off my -”

“Nope.” Jay grinned at you, head shaking back and forth. “No, not yet.” He moved his knees and you glanced down, wetting your lips as you got another glimpse of him. I want to touch him. I need to touch him. The hand not on his head was hanging by your side, and so you moved it, the pads of your fingers dragging over his lower body and then down. The hair beneath them was coarse, longer and curling the closer you got to the base of him, and Jay made no move to stop you before your fingers wrapped around him, squeezing. He did react, though, groaning at the pressure, and after a beat, he moved his hand, too, fingers staying beneath the material of your underwear. 

But his thumb was on the outside of it, and as soon as he could reach, you felt pressure between your legs, the press of the lace against your heated skin a welcome distraction. “Oh, alright.” You squeezed tighter, beginning to move your hand up and down, and Jay’s thumb started to arc lower, the spread of your knees widening to accommodate him. 

You didn’t know who moved first, closing the distance between yourselves to kiss again, but it didn’t matter. The moment your lips made contact, the pace intensified, Jay’s fingers and pulling the material pressed against his palm toward your center as his finger pushed into you - lace going with it. You responded in kind, the speed of your fisted hand increasing and your strokes lengthening, moving from base to tip over and over. “Fuck, Jay.” You groaned when you separated to take a breath, your hand stilling even as his continued to move, his knuckles pressed into your skin. “You’ve gotta touch me, though. The lace is a …” Biting back a moan, you closed your eyes. “It’s a tease. Please just -” 

“Alright.” He breathed out the word, nodding. “I can do that.” In one swift movement, Jay withdrew his hand and then pushed the material to the side, slipping two fingers - side by side - against the damp skin beneath them. “Fuck thats beauitful.” He kissed you again, the digits slipping through you with no resistance as he moved them along the seam. He jerked in your hand and your gaze moved down and between your bodies, watching as a large, pearly bead formed at his tip. Releasing your hold on him, you rubbed your thumb over it, earning a retaliatory hiss of pleasure from the man, but what really got to him was you bringing your hand back up, sucking the tip of your thumb between your lips to taste him. 

It was brief but that didn’t matter, Jay’s fingers plunging inside of you before you’d pulled it free, the man’s mouth descending to your shoulder as he littered it with open-mouthed kisses. You clung to him, desperately trying to get your hand back between your bodies, but he didn’t let you, releasing your hip and letting that hand drop to twine his fingers with yours. 

His fingers were thick, and two of them was a tight fit, but it felt good, the way that he stroked in and out of you making your knees wobble. “Let me know when you’re ready.” He murmured the words against your throat, teeth grazing the skin, and you tugged on his hair, trying to pull his attention and raise his head. He stared at you, cheeks flushed and his lower lip trembling as he tried to catch his breath, but the motion of his hand didn’t stop - just slowed to an almost torturous pace. 

“I’m ready, Jay.” You were trying to catch your breath, too, but you were certain. “Otherwise my knees are gonna give out and I’m going to fall over.” He smirked at that, withdrawing his fingers from your body and releasing your hand. At the loss of them, you felt emptiness, along with a liquid heat that trailed slowly down one leg, the result of his actions. “You gonna taste me, too?” It slipped out before you could stop yourself, and both of his brows jumped in surprise, the man’s lips splitting into a wide grin. “No pressure, but -”

“Hadn’t planned on it.” Jay tilted his head, a devious look entering his eyes. “But now that you mention it…” He lifted his hand, studying his glistening fingers, and then before you could speak, he extended his tongue and licked them, base to tip. Jesus fucking Christ. The man moaned at the taste of you, tongue circling over the tips of his fingers before he parted his lips more and pushed them into his mouth, eyes closed. “Fuck you taste good.” 

He moved without warning, the man pushing on your body and urging you onto your back before you had a chance to reply, and then his tongue was in your mouth, lips smashed against yours in a desperate kiss. As it continued, you realized with some shock that Jay’s behaviors made sense with the progression of his life over the previous few months. He wants to feel wanted. 

Sighing at the discovery, you softened your hold on him - grip loosening so that you were caressing his skin instead of clutching it, carefully straightening your legs so that he could rock his hips against yours from a less severe angle. You did want him, and you hoped that he knew it from the way you were kissing him and touching him, the way that your body was responding to his. He has to feel it. “Jay, please.” Gasping for air, you moved a hand to his chest, putting some space between you. “Want you now.” 

Something that you couldn’t identify flashed in his eyes, but Jay nodded once, rising back onto his knees and then leaning over you, reaching for the container of condoms. While he was busy, you quickly removed your underwear, using one hand to let it drop to the floor next to the bed. “Do you have a color preference?” Popping the lid, he tilted the opening toward himself. “Red, blue or purple?” 

Giving yourself a moment to think, you slowly lifted your hand again and wrapped your fingers around him. “Blue.” You whispered the word as you stroked along his length, your eyes on Jay’s face. He sucked in a breath at your touch, swearing and closing his eyes and you were thrilled with the reaction, twisting your wrist as you waited to see what he’d do.

“Good. You hold that for me, alright?” He gestured to himself with one hand, the other reaching out to set the container down on the bedside table and then Jay tore the condom open, the packet falling from his hand and onto the bed. “Hold it real…” He hissed again when you squeezed but Jay didn’t swat your hand away, instead settling one of his over yours and then using the other to unroll the latex. You watched him do it, and couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from you when you saw the design printed on it - tacky and tribal, the blue almost neon against the hue of the man’s skin. “That’s not gonna help here.” 

He attempted to sound grumpy, but even Jay had to grin as he looked down, your hands still stacked and wrapped around him. “I’m not laughing at you, Jay. I’m laughing at the -

“You won’t be laughing at anything in a few seconds,” he continued, the man interrupting you as he inched backwards, fingers around your wrist to pull your hand away from him. “And that’s a promise.” You had no reply to that, and when he’d stopped moving, the man settled between your legs - still on his knees - he spoke again. “Tell me if you need me to stop, alright? If you -”

“I will.” I don’t need you to stop, I need you to start. You were trembling in anticipation, your entire body on edge while he slowly stroked himself, the man’s eyes on your body. “Please, Jay.” 

That was all he needed, the man moving swiftly to reposition himself and one of your legs, hitching it up and over his tattooed hip. He leaned forward, still holding himself in his other hand, and when you felt him press up against you, your hips moved forward, seeking more before he’d even offered it - and then he was inside of you, sinking deep on a single thrust. You cried out, a mixture of his name and a wail of pleasure, but Jay stilled, giving both of you a chance to adjust. 

He was thicker than his fingers had been, and when he moved for the first time, you realized that the condom itself was ribbed, the ridges pleasantly dragging inside of you with each thrust of his hips. “Come here. Keep moving and -” You grabbed at him, urging him forward, and instead of using his hands or elbows to prop himself up, Jay slid both of them beneath your shoulders, pulling you off of the mattress and closer to him, supporting his body that way without breaking stride in his movements. 

He was balancing on his knees, and it only took a minute or so for you to wrap your other leg around his waist, too, one hand scratching its way down his back and the fingers of the other twisted in his hair. You were panting into his shoulder and the side of his neck, eyes squeezed shut as you rocked your hips upward to meet his, but Jay’s lips were pressed against the base of your throat, muffled groans reaching your ears every few seconds. 

There was nothing soft about the way he fucked you, but at the same time, it was tender - the man not using your body but involving it, the snap of his hips accommodating you and changing pace with the breaths you took and released. 

When he finally did slow his pace, withdrawing almost all the way before leisurely sliding back in, he raised his head, looking down ant into your eyes. “You feel fucking incredible, do you know that?” 

Instead of answering, you urged him back toward your mouth, tracing over the seam of his lips with the tip of your tongue before you kissed him gently. “You do, too, Jay.” It was the truth - and you wanted to thank him for the way he was moving, but you refrained, instead, kissing him again and then tightening your legs around him, calves pressing into his thighs. “Keep going. Harder.” 

There was no need to tell him twice, and Jay resumed his initial pace, though you felt as he moved one leg back, stretching it out to change his angle again. He was able to sink in deeper, then, hitting a spot inside of you that made you yelp as you dug your fingers into his back, fighting the urge to turn your head and bury your face in the blankets. “Let me hear you.” He growled the words into your ear, Jay’s teeth grazing the shell of it. “Don’t you dare try to stay quiet.” 

You didn’t. The yelps turned into quiet - and some not so quiet - moans and gasps, your hips rotating as you sought out the extra friction that you needed. And Jay noticed - slowing his movement to give you a chance to unwind your legs and find purchase for your feet on the sheets. It was enough, the new angle causing the curls at his base - soaked, thanks to you - to drag over your sensitive skin over and over until you felt yourself losing control, your body’s muscles coiling tighter as your brain fought to keep up, 

His name left your lips in an almost embarrassingly loud wail as you came, toes curling into the comforter at the same time your hips lifted up, both hands wrapped around his shoulders from behind as you held him close. 

You wanted him closer - wanted him to feel the pounding of your heart and the ragged breaths you were taking along with the clenching of your muscles around him, wanted him to know that you were overheated; the sweat gathering on your brow and across the top of your chest indications of how hard your body was working - and how absolutely turned on by him you were. 

But most of all, you wanted him to come inside of you, to feel that telltale release and the tightening of his muscles as his motion finally faltered. And so you kept moving with him, letting him fuck you through the aftermath of your orgasm, humming at the way it felt to have him slipping through you with each cant of his hips, almost no resistance from your body because you were absolutely boneless. 

Jay kissed you again then, his lips barely making contact before he was whispering in your ear. “I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last.   I -”

“You don’t need to.” You swallowed hard, fighting to get the words out. “You don’t need to, Jay.” For a split second, you wondered what he was used to when it came to sex - if Kat had expected him to last a certain amount of time, or do things a specific way - and then you pushed the thought out of your head, deciding that it didn’t matter. Because he’s not with her anymore. He doesn’t have to worry about that. 

Jay picked up the pace, lowering his head so that he was once again mouthing at your shoulder, but after a few hard, deep thrusts, his lips latched onto the ridge of your collarbone and stayed there. You rocked against him, mumbling praise into his ear, and at the sound of your quiet voice Jay’s breaths quickened, too, and you felt his teeth on your skin - not hard but there. 

You reacted immediately, stroking over his back and trailing your knuckles down his spine. He released your shoulder and then groaned, and you felt his abdominal muscles tighten, his hips retreating back before he thrust into you again - finally stilling momentarily. “Fuck.” 

But he picked up immediately where he left off, long thrusts replaced with shorter ones, and you knew he was coming when he bit down again on your skin, the man’s nose pressed into the side of your neck as a sharp pain bloomed from where his teeth were. The motion of his hips stuttered and then slowed almost to a stop, the pressure of Jay’s bite lessening until he finally let go, lifting his head enough to press his lips to the line of your jaw as some of his weight settled against you. “You alright?” Still somewhat breathless, you brought your hand up and stroked the back of his neck - the man’s skin hot to the touch. 

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to…” Backing off, his eyes moved down, studying your body. “There are tooth marks in your shoulder, I’m sorry.” What? “Shit, I don’t… that isn’t…” He frowned, only meeting your eyes when you said his name again. 

“I. Don’t. Care.” You cupped the man’s jaw in both hands, smiling. “Don’t apologize. That was …” You didn’t know how to tell him that no man you’d ever been with had ever reacted so strongly to an orgasm that he’d bitten you hard enough to leave a mark. And I think hickeys are tacky as hell, but this is … different. “It’ll disappear. I bet it’s gone by morning.” He furrowed his brow but nodded slowly, and then the smirk returned to his face as he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the place on your body where his teeth had previously been. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke quietly, still kissing his way across your skin. “And then we can go and throw dinner in the microwave, since we didn’t get to -” “Oh, shit, I forgot there’s food.” You shifted beneath him, pushing your shoulders back to stretch them out. “That sounds amazing.” Jay moved, too, reaching between your bodies and easing out of you, one hand keeping the condom in place. You hissed at the sensation, closing your eyes briefly, but when you opened them again, Jay was already sitting on the edge of the bed, hands busy tying the end of the rubber off. 

You took a few moments to watch the way his shoulders and back muscles flexed as he moved, a soft smile gracing your lips. That was something else. “If you don’t want to put your clothes back on, there are a bunch of t-shirts hanging in my closet. Some of ‘em should be big enough that you won’t have to put pants back on, either.” He glanced over at you, one side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “I have a bunch of the promo shirts from when the shop opened in there, too, and there are a ton of different sizes.” 

He stood, heading for the bathroom, and when the door closed behind him, you stretched out and then rolled out of the bed, standing. It only took you a minute or so to choose one of the shirts - an Inkwell one a few sizes too large that would fall over your thighs - and then you stepped in front of the mirror, glancing at your reflection. 

There was a mark on your collar from him - the imprint of his teeth was still visible, though it wasn’t as bad as he’d made it seem. Yeah, that’ll be gone tomorrow. Reaching up, you ran your fingers over it, biting down on your lower lip before turning away and heading back into the hall after bending down to scoop up your underwear.

He met you as you exited the second bathroom, Jay wearing his underwear and a t-shirt, too, and before you could speak he’d reached out, wrapping his arms around you and backing you against the hallway wall, forehead pressed to yours. “Thank you for being patient with me.” He kissed you, gratitude apparent in the press of his lips to yours. “And for dealing with my bullshit.” 

“It’s not bullshit.” You kissed him back, hands steady at his waist. “But you’re welcome.” You cleared your throat and said his name, wanting him to hear the resolve in your next words. “I’m glad we did this the right way. I would have felt like a real piece of shit otherwise.” 

“You and me both.” He released you from his hold, but then reached down and took your hand, fingers closing tightly around yours. “Wanna eat on the couch? We can watch TV.” He paused, and as the two of you entered the kitchen, he spoke again. “It’s Saturday night, there’s got to be something on.” 

It felt normal with him, comfortable and easy in a way that you hadn’t anticipated. Even though you’d warned yourself not to do it, you found that you were thinking ahead - not only to the following morning, but the coming days and weeks as well, and what spending more time with him could be like. “Sure.” You took a deep breath, opening the refrigerator door as he closed the microwave, one long finger jabbing at the buttons. “As long as you’re not gonna kick me out after we eat or anything.” 

“I’m not.” Jay turned to face you, arms crossed over his chest. “Thought maybe we could go out for breakfast tomorrow before you leave. There are a bunch of restaurants around here that aren’t The Ramp.” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, and even though you would have been fine with going back to the same place, you knew that he was suggesting somewhere else because of the fact that he’d gone there previously with Kat. 

“Like a date, Jay?” You spoke without thinking, but the question was legitimate. 

“Yes.” He removed his food from the microwave, replacing it with yours and then turning to face you again, the same grin on his face. “Kind of backwards to take you out for the first time after I had my way with you, but yeah. A date.” It was impossible to keep from smiling back at him, and so you didn’t even try, closing the distance between you to stand next to him. 

“I like the sound of that.”

—

[something-tofightfor]

Nightingale - Part 4

Pairing: Jay Castillo x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,096

Rating: M? Talk of infidelity, language, drinking. This is relatively mild. 

Summary: With no more tattoo appointments to look forward to, will you and Jay keep in contact? For Jay, the week of his planned honeymoon has more than a few surprises in store. 

Author’s note:

I’m sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out - it’s been done, I’ve just been lazy about editing. 

I am absolutely FLOORED by the reaction that you’ve all had to this story, and I cannot thank you enough for the feedback, comments and questions. 

I do want to remind you that things might seem like they’re moving very slowly between these two ... but I’m trying to be very respectful of the fact hat there is a marriage here, no matter how broken it might be at this point. 

Catch up on the first three parts here: 1 / 2 / 3

The following Sunday, you were relaxing in your best friend’s backyard while her children played nearby. You didn’t make the trip from your place in Noe Valley to Hayward too often, but the days you spent with Kenzie were welcome breaks for you. That visit was the reason you hadn’t been able to see Jay for a tattoo at his first reschedule suggestion. Your best friend’s birthday meant an afternoon spent with her and her family, lazing in the fading warmth of summer and eating way too much junk food. It was a far cry from the years the two of you had spent together in college - those birthday memories fuzzy and completely devoid of children. But things change. 

Kenzie’s husband was grilling, the two of you laying back on lawn chairs while catching up on each other’s lives, and it was the most relaxing day you’d had in months. She said your name, pulling you out of your thoughts, and with a slow turn of your head you met the woman’s eyes, watching as she grinned at you. “One of these days, you’ll bring a guy here with you for dinner.” Maybe. 

“Tried that.” You rolled your eyes. “Didn’t work out so well, remember?” She laughed, running a hand through her hair and pulling it away from her face. “I think the next time I introduce you to someone, I’m going to make sure we’ve known each other longer than a couple weeks.” And that he isn’t a selfish asshole.

“Smart.” She snorted out a laugh, followed by a quick “stop it!” as one of her daughters yelled at the other for pulling a toy from her hands. “So you never told me about your tattoo.” The woman gestured to your arm, clearing her throat. “You said the girl that was going to do it couldn’t. Did you get a good artist?” Jay’s face flashed in your mind as she spoke, the man’s wide brown eyes and large smile making you smile in return. “You must have, the look on your face is -” “I did.” Pushing yourself into an upright position, you held out your arm - the areas that Jay had worked on most recently still scabbed over. “He did a really good job. Changed the design from the one Hanna was going to do to one of his own, and I’m really glad.” The woman reached toward you, pausing before she laid her fingers against your skin, waiting for you to tell her it was alright. “It’s kind of scaly right now, but …” 

Kenzie’s fingertips moved over your skin slowly, the woman leaning in and squinting at the design for long moments before she spoke. “Your grandparents would love this.” It was the simplest thing that anyone could have said - but it was also the most right, and without pause, you encircled the woman with both arms, resting your head on her shoulder. She’d grown up with you, had spent countless weekends and vacations in the summer at your grandparents’ house in San Rafael, and had been almost as distraught as you when they’d passed. So she gets it. “You’ll have to give me the artist’s name, I’ve been thinking about going to get another one, and I like his style.” “His name’s Jay.” Settling back into the chair, you reached for your drink and took a long sip. “And he does a hell of a lot more than this. He had his drawings hanging up around his tattoo space, and they were incredible. He was telling me he’s an artist, too, so tattooing isn’t all he does, but …” You trailed off, taking a deep breath. “He did ask me to send people his way. So… yes, definitely. I think you’d like him.” 

“Sounds like you like him, too.” You heard it in her voice - the hints of accusation, the interest, but you were quick to shut her down. That isn’t the point. 

“He’s married. He actually got married between our first and second appointments, Kenz.” Her expression changed to shock, but you weren’t done, eyes moving down to your arm and then back up. “I do like him, but it’s not like that.” It can’t be like that, even though it seemed for a second like … You’d seen the look in the man’s eyes as you stood next to the front counter telling him that you hoped someone would give him a real chance. It hadn’t been a strictly friendly look - his shoulders tensing, lips parted as he watched you, and for a moment, you’d wondered if he was going to move, leaning forward and reaching for you. He hadn’t, but you’d gotten the distinct impression that he’d wanted to. And I wanted him to, so what does that say about me? “I’ll send you the shop’s phone number if you want.” 

She agreed, and turned her attention back to the kids as you reached for your bag, pulling your phone out. To your surprise, though, when you flipped the device over to light the screen up, you saw a missed message from an unfamiliar number - along with an attached picture. Holy shit. “Who’s that?” Kenzie leaned closer, her hand reaching for your phone. “He’s cute.” Yeah, he is. 

“That’s… Jay.” Swiping to unlock the phone and open the message, you moved your head back and forth. You were right. Needed to leave the city for a couple days. He’d sent the message nearly an hour before; the picture one of him with the coastline over his shoulder, the man grinning at the camera. “We were talking before he finished about what he was going to do this week, and I suggested camping.” 

“His wife’s not in the picture with him.” No, she isn’t. “Why is he sending you pictures of himself that look like they’d be on a dating profile?” You laughed at that, briefly closing your eyes. I don’t know. “What aren’t you telling me?” You wanted to clue the woman in, but didn’t feel like you had the right to - at least not all of it. But maybe I can tell her something. 

“Hold on.” You murmured the words, opening up the text box and typing quickly. You picked a good spot. Hope it’s what you need. Pressing send, you took a deep breath before letting the device go, your phone dropping to the tabletop. He hadn’t messaged you before then - and you figured he wouldn’t, fully aware that there was a good chance that you leaving your number had been out of line. But maybe he was just waiting for the right time to reach out. “Kenzie, he…” Eyes on the dark screen, you shook your head back and forth. “He’s married, but it isn’t…” Swiping a hand over your face, you took a long breath. “His brother in law just died a couple months ago, and there’s been a lot of tension between him and his wife ever since. I don’t know what’s going to happen with all that, but he was distracted while I was there last time, and so I said I’d listen if he wanted to talk.” And he definitely talked.

She watched you intently, her eyes focused on your face. You didn’t want to tell her much more, didn’t want to break any sort of trust that you might have earned from the man, but the truth was that you truly didn’t know what to think or feel about the interactions you’d had with him. And this text doesn’t make that any easier to think about. “And did he tell you anything?” You had her attention, the woman’s voice low. “If they just got married and he’s already somewhere without her and texting you, that doesn’t… that doesn’t seem like a good thing.” 

“I don’t think it is.” Shaking your head, you closed your eyes. “He seemed pretty sure that whatever was going to happen between them wasn’t going to end well, but as far as I know, he’s still married.” Your phone went off again, both pairs of eyes moving to it. “And this is the first time he’s ever texted me, so … I’m just as surprised as you are.” 

“You’re not going to get involved if he is married, are you?” She sounded concerned, and you didn’t blame her. Getting close to a married man was not something you had any interest in doing, even if he’d been honest about everything from the beginning.

“Nope.” He’d messaged back - short and sweet - and you bit back a smile as you read it. Point Reyes is always what I need. He hadn’t gone far, and you were familiar with the area he’d mentioned. It was beautiful, a great place for someone to clear their head for a few days. Perfect for him. “No, as long as he’s married, I don’t want anything to do with it more than what it is now. I don’t care how good looking someone is, I’m not going to do that to anyone.” As you spoke, you tried to figure out how to respond. Because I don’t want him to think that I’m ignoring him. 

Good. Might have convinced a friend to come see you for a tattoo… cross your fingers. “You should have told me he looked like that, though … I would have agreed to go to him immediately.” Kenzie took your phone from your hand, reopening the image and using both fingers to zoom in. “I know I’m already married, but damn.” You had to laugh at that. I agree. “Definitely fun to look at.”

“He’s a nice guy, too. I hope he figures whatever out that he needs to with his wife.” But do I? She gave the phone one more look and then raised an eyebrow at you as she handed it over. “What?” 

“He replied.” That was fast. “Must have been holding the phone.” 

“Oh, shut up.” But you felt your heartbeat quicken, eyes scanning the new message. A friend, but not you. Ouch. “Probably just waiting to see if I’d respond before he put the phone away.” Shrugging it off, you took a deep breath. “Makes sense.” I guess. 

“Dinner’s ready. Alec’s waving us over.” Kenzie was already shifting off of the chair and calling for the kids, turning her head to look back over at you. “When you’re done texting your new friend, you should -” Narrowing your eyes at her you watched as she stood, fighting back a laugh. “I’m kidding.” But you aren’t, are you. The four of them moved toward the house and you finally stood, too, phone still unlocked in your hand. What do I say? It seemed as though the man was flirting with you, even if in a casual manner. Do I flirt back? 

He’d been open and honest with you about getting married, telling you a lot about his future wife in your first session. He’d told you more about what had gone on with the woman in the weeks following the wedding than he’d needed to. You’d seen the scrawl in the appointment book - the man’s honeymoon scheduled for the week, Jay clearly not in Hawaii while texting you from only a few miles away. A little flirting won’t hurt. Before following your friends into the house, you typed one final message, pressing send before you could second guess yourself and then shoving the phone back in your bag. 

That’s just because I haven’t decided what to get yet. But as soon as I do, you’re the only one I want to come see. 

— 

The camping trip had done wonders for him, and by the time Jay made it back to his loft on Friday afternoon, he felt better than he had in weeks. 

He’d thought a lot about the future while laying in his sleeping bag each night, staring out through the screened-in top sections of his tent. While the sky hadn’t given him answers, it had given him plenty of direction. 

Kat hadn’t called or texted, even though he’d assumed she might given the initial significance of the week. At first, it had disappointed him, but the more time he spent outside - hiking through the tall grasses, walking along the beach and sitting with his toes in the wet sand, Jay realized that it was for the best. He was better alone than with the woman, more at ease sitting next to a campfire under the stars and eating food from a small cooler than he’d been with her at Marta and Evan’s large house, or during any one of the dinners they’d gone to with either of the elder Petrovs. 

They were different people - valued different lifestyles, wanted different futures, liked different things - and Jay had been hopeful that it would work between them because of their differences. But with the camping trip as the first time he’d truly been apart from Kat and out of San Francisco in the ten months since they’d met, he realized that that hope had been based mostly on lust and the way that they’d connected physically - and his belief that the more intimately people knew each other, the easier everything else became.

Did he love the woman? Yes, he did. Could they have been happy together? Maybe, for at least a little while. Would it have lasted? No, not unless Kat and her family had suddenly deemed him worthy of their inner circle. But look what that got Evan. 

Waiting in the hospital’s atrium had been one of the worst experiences of his life. Marta and Kat had left him at the table with Natalie, Gabe and Boris, and Jay hadn’t been able to believe that less than 24 hours earlier, they’d all been at a wedding, celebrating the beginning of a new life for him and Kat. 

The celebration had been cut short, though, and the fact that he’d spent the majority of his first months as a married man alone drove that point home for Jay better than anything else ever could. 

He was lucky, at least in his own mind, because unlike Kat, his family wasn’t large, and that meant that explaining the woman’s absence hadn’t needed to be done repeatedly. He’d told his sister, told his grandparents, and that was it. And I told her. 

You weren’t family, but you knew more about what had happened between Jay and his wife than a lot of other people, and you hadn’t judged him for any of it. He appreciated the kindness, was absolutely thrilled at the fact that you’d actually done what you promised to and listened to him, let him get it out, and he didn’t know how to repay you. The tattoo had been one way of doing that, but you’d left the amount as a tip, which rendered the gesture useless. 

As the man loaded dirty clothes and blankets into the washing machine, he thought back to the few text messages you’d exchanged earlier that week, smiling at the memory of your first reply. He hadn’t even hesitated when attaching the picture to the message, wanting you to see that he’d taken your advice to heart, and was out of the city doing something that he enjoyed. He’d also selfishly just wanted to send a picture to see how you’d respond to it, but you hadn’t - and he respected that. Because I am still married. 

You’d flirted back with him, just a little, and that also made Jay happy. Not because it meant that he hadn’t completely lost the charm despite the trouble with his most recent relationship, but because he figured that if you were completely uninterested, you wouldn’t have had a problem flat out telling him. But you didn’t - and so he knew that at the very least, you’d meant what you said about keeping in contact. You leaving your number had been a surprise, and even though he’d wanted to message you sooner, he’d held off. And then I couldn’t stop myself.  

There’d been no more contact after the reply about coming to see him when you chose another tattoo design, but he figured that the two of you weren’t quite to the point where you casually texted each other. I hope that changes, though. He didn’t know what it would take to get to that level, but there was no reason for him to think that it wouldn’t. He’d broken the ice and you’d continued to chip away at the crack, leaving things open for whatever happened in the future. But not until I know exactly what’s going to happen with Kat. 

The laundry going, Jay moved back into the main room of the loft, absently straightening the couch pillows and picking up stray papers to throw away, but when he passed his phone, he set everything down, grabbing for it. There was a missed message - but it was from Natalie, which caught him off guard - the message worrying him even more. All it said was a simple Call me, Uncle Jay, and he wasted no time in pressing the button and lifting the device to his ear. I hope everything’s alright. 

She answered on the second ring, the girl’s voice breathless. “H-hello?” 

“Nat? Is everything OK? Why are you calling me? Is your mom -” “Everyone’s fine.” She took a deep breath, and Jay heard the sound of traffic on the other end of the line. “We’re all… good. I just …” She let out a long sigh and Jay waited patiently. “Are you home? I’m actually meeting friends at Pier 39 for dinner, but I want to…” She trailed off, Jay frowning as he leaned over the kitchen counter, phone held to his ear. What does she want? “There’s something I have to tell you, so I was wondering if I could -”

“I can come to you.” He was already moving, heading for the door to pull his boots on. “I’ll grab a cab, just tell me where.” A few minutes later, Jay was out the door, his phone tucked into one of his back pockets as he waited on the sidewalk for an empty car. He had no idea what the girl wanted, but no matter how much the relationship with his wife had deteriorated, he wasn’t about to leave the teenager hanging. 

Fifteen minutes later, Jay was stepping out of the cab in front of the Hard Rock, his eyes scanning the early evening crowd for any sign of the girl. He found her easily, even though she had a hood pulled up over her blonde hair, and he wasted no time cutting through the crowd to where she sat, legs crossed at the ankle while she waited. “Nat?” Speaking as he approached so that he didn’t surprise her, Jay tilted his head to one side. “I’m here, what’s up?” 

The moment he met the girl’s eyes, he knew that something was wrong, though he had no idea what it could have been. She looked sad, and not in the way that he imagined she would. It’s like she’s mad about it. “Hi, Uncle Jay.” She gave him a tight smile, scooting over on the bench to make room for him and he took the seat without pause, telling her hello. “You haven’t come over in a long time. I -” “Your aunt doesn’t want to see me.” The words came out smoothly, Jay sighing after he spoke them. “I’m giving her space, because it’s what… It doesn’t matter, Nat. We’ll figure it out.” Or we won’t. “How are you guys doing?” She didn’t answer, though, her gaze focused on her feet. “Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?” Shifting on the bench, he leaned in, cautiously reaching out to set a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Are your brothers -” “You and my aunt aren’t together anymore, are you?” She finally looked at him, her wide brown eyes unblinking. “Like … you’re broken up?” It wasn’t that simple, but Jay still nodded, closing his eyes. 

“Yeah, I think so. I haven’t seen her or talked to her in a couple weeks, so I don’t know exactly, but…” He trailed off, shrugging. “You don’t have to worry about it, Nat. Even if she and I aren’t -” “I saw her kissing someone.” Natalie looked away, chewing on her lip. “A few weeks ago, and then … then a couple days ago.” What? That froze him, a prickling heat igniting in the center of his chest. “She made me promise not to tell you after the first time, and I thought it was because she was stressed out because of my dad, so I agreed. She said it was an accident.” What? Why is she… who? But he couldn’t ask - couldn’t even form the words, and so he sat there, waiting.”But then I saw it again, and it was the same guy, so I then I thought that maybe it wasn’t an accident.”     

“You didn’t have to tell me.” The words caught in his throat at the realization that no matter how many times he’d thought it, the admission by his niece was proof that his marriage was in fact over - and had been for a while. “She’s your aunt, why are you -” “Because it’s that FBI guy, the one that’s been sitting outside of our house since my dad? And that’s weird. She shouldn’t… she’s married to you, and she -” The girl was almost in tears, and Jay moved again, winding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. That FBI agent? The one that was in my kitchen? But she said… He felt his jaw tighten as Natalie let herself lean against him, the girl quiet again for almost a minute. “You deserve to know.” 

Do I? Does it change anything? “Thank you for saying something.” He glanced up, eyes on the flags fluttering overhead. “I’m not going to tell her you told me. If she wants me to know, it can come from her. I don’t want you in the middle of this, Nat.” 

“I took a picture.” The girl sniffed, pulling herself away from Jay. “I tried to take a video, and I don’t think you can really see, but the picture, they’re…” Again, she turned her face up so that he could see that her eyes were rimmed with red. “I can show you if you want.” 

‘What?” He spat the word, surprise turning it into an almost angry sound. “A picture?” She reached for her phone, fingers curling around the device. Do I want to see that? Do I need to? He glanced down and then back up, letting out a slow breath. “Alright.” He didn’t know what he expected, but the moment his eyes landed on the girl’s phone screen, Jay felt something like relief. It wasn’t clear as day, but there was no mistaking what he was seeing - Kat and Agent Ramos, her arms wound around his neck as they kissed at the end of the very same driveway that Evan had been killed in. 

“The video is really blurry. I took it through the window because I didn’t want them to see me, but …” She swiped through, clicking the play button. It  was blurry, but again, Jay knew that it was his wife - the man’s fingers tangled in her long hair, his other hand on her hip as they kissed. It was a short video, only a few seconds, but as he watched it, Jay felt anger, the emotion overtaking the shock that he’d initially felt. 

But he wasn’t angry at her for kissing someone else. Jay was angry that while the woman hadn’t even had the nerve to contact him to tell him that things were permanently over, giving him any sort of insight into what would come next, she’d found someone else to occupy her time, initiating physical contact with no shame whatsoever in a public place with a man that knew that she’d just gotten married. And I felt guilty for having a coffee with a client. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jay gave himself a few moments to think. Fuck. “You shouldn’t be in the middle of this, Natalie.” The girl darkened her phone screen, holding it between both palms with her fingers tightly wrapped around each other. “I… appreciate you showing me, but I’m still not going to tell her you did. This is between us, and it -” “My mom keeps telling her that she needs to talk to you. That you need to figure something out, even if it’s breaking up. Aunt Kat’s avoiding you, and it’s stupid.” He agreed - even more after seeing the images - and felt a sudden wave of gratitude for Marta and her daughter. At least someone cares. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, kiddo. But I do want you to know that even if your aunt and I aren’t together, you can call me if you need me. I know that might make things harder, but this is between us, and I don’t want you guys to feel like -” 

“I wish none of this had ever happened.” Natalie leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not fair. Not my dad, not you and Aunt Kat, not the fact that…” She trailed off, and even though he agreed, he wasn’t going to let her know it. She doesn’t need to worry about this, too. 

“It’s gonna be ok.” Squeezing her knee, Jay cleared his throat. “Maybe your aunt and I aren’t supposed to be married. Maybe we moved too fast. You haven’t… you’ll understand in a couple years, kiddo. Believe me, it sucks, but… I’d rather know now than in ten years.” That was the truth - Jay firmly believed that it was better to have been surprised at the beginning of the marriage than after years of trying to make it work. “I should go before your friends get here. That way you won’t have to explain anything.” 

She turned her head slowly, facing him and Jay smiled - the expression genuine. “You’re really OK?” I think I am. He felt lighter, somehow, even though he didn’t know if that would change once he was alone and had had time to think, and the smile turned into a grin, accompanied with a slight nod of his head. “I’m glad.” Me too.

“Go. Eat. I’m gonna head home.” She stood, but he could read the unease in her posture, and so when Jay got to his feet, he reached out, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m fine, Natalie. I promise you.”  The girl didn’t reply, but her felt her squeezing him tightly, cheek turned to press against his chest. When they separated, she looked a little more steady and Jay gestured to the pier, giving her another smile. “Go.” Before she was more than a few steps away, Jay called out to her again, allowing himself to ask a question that he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. But I have to know. “Has … Kat worn her rings at all? Since I brought them over, I mean.” 

He knew the answer before the girl gave it, her eyes flashing with the overhead lights. “No.” Natalie’s gaze moved to his hands - both hanging by his sides. “But you aren’t either.” No, I’m not. She said goodbye and gave him a small wave, and a few moments later, the girl disappeared into the growing crowd of people on the pier, leaving Jay alone. 

He didn’t want to sit - didn’t want to linger, and so he turned away and began walking down the Embarcadero and toward the Bay Bridge, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Natalie telling me this is huge. 

It was, and he knew that even though she was young, she understood the gravity of the information she’d given him. He truly didn’t want to tell Kat about the girl’s involvement - it would do no good, and he didn’t want to cause problems between the two of them. He also knew that the time was coming where he’d need to reach out again, pressuring the woman to clue him in as to what she wanted to do, but Jay was still hesitant, unsure of when the right time to do so would be. I’ll know. 

By the time he reached Pier 27, Jay was tired of walking, and decided to catch a cab back, shortening the time until he could lower himself onto the couch and crack open a beer. As he slid into the backseat of the car, Jay closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead with one hand. Maybe I shouldn’t go home. He made up his mind when the driver asked where he was going, and instead of the address of his loft, Jay chose one of his favorite bars, the cabbie nodding in agreement as the vehicle started to move. It’s only a couple minute walk from my place anyway. 

Luckily, the man didn’t try and speak to him as they drove, and Jay simply stared out the window, letting Natalie’s words - and what he’d seen on the screen - replay in his mind. She kissed someone. She kissed someone multiple times, and if that’s the truth then she’s… It was a leap to assume that anything else physical had happened between Kat and Ramos, but Jay figured that if she was kissing him in the open, it wasn’t entirely unlikely. The first time, she’d tried to hide it. The second time, she’d done it in the open. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that the odds of those two times being the only two times were low, and the likelihood that Natalie had happened to see the only instances of infidelity was even lower. And that means it’s … regular. 

He sighed heavily as the cab came to a stop, Jay thanking the driver and handing over a few bills as he climbed out and onto the sidewalk. It was a Friday night - and he hoped that the atmosphere of the bar would distract him, giving him something to focus on. It’s better than being in my place alone. 

Making his way down the walkway and toward the entrance, he felt himself relaxing with the sound of the music coming through the speakers, the man pushing his sleeves up and over his elbows. He glanced at the indoor bar as he passed the doorway and decided that it was too crowded, opting to head for the smaller outdoor one instead. While not quite a regular, Jay had been to the place often in the few years he’d lived in the loft, and the young woman behind that bar was familiar to him. 

He didn’t like drinking alone, but as he waited in the small line for his turn to order, the man glanced out and toward the water, seeing that there was plenty of space along the railing that overlooked the Bay. Ill get a drink and stand over there. Give myself a couple minutes to think. Decision made, he returned his attention to the bar and the bartender, stepping forward and toward an open space between two people sitting on tall stools, which was being vacated by a woman with a drink in each hand. 

But before he could plant his feet, she turned, carefully sidestepping to find a path away from the counter, a cup held protectively in each hand. There wasn’t much room, and without pause, Jay shifted too, his attention still fully focused ahead - until he heard someone say his name, attention snapping toward the sound. 

“Jay?” His eyes widened as he focused on you, the corners of your mouth lifting just enough for him to catch it before you blinked, schooling your features into a more neutral expression. “What are you doing here?” Before he answered, he let himself look you over, taking in your outfit and trying to figure out what you were doing on a Friday night at a bar in his neighborhood when you didn’t live anywhere nearby. Does it matter? 

Realizing that he still hadn’t answered, he blew a slow breath out and then cleared his throat. “Stopped in for a drink before I head home. I live pretty close. What about you?” You answered almost immediately, though your gaze left his, focused on something over his shoulder. She’s here with someone. 

“I’m here after work with some coworkers. They’re sitting over by the water. I just came up to grab drinks.” He felt relief at the admission that you were with friends, though he didn’t quite understand why. There was a longer pause, the man watching as you eyed him, waiting to see how he’d respond. How do I respond? What is there to say? “I should go back. Someone’s gonna come looking for me if -” “Yeah. Of course.” He smiled at you, nodding in agreement. “I didn’t mean to… hold you up.” You looked like you wanted to say something, but instead, finally let yourself smile back, the roof-mounted lights highlighting your features in a way that gave him pause. Let her go. She’s here with people, and this isn’t … the time. “Have fun.”

“You too.” Your smile faltered - but only slightly - and you turned away, taking a few steps in the opposite direction, Jay watching as you moved. He wasn’t prepared for you to stop, turning your head so that you could look at him over one shoulder. “Jay?” You bit your lower lip, a long silence hanging between the two of you before you continued. “It’s good to see you.” 

He didn’t know how you meant it; if you just meant that it was nice to see him outside of the shop, that you were happy he was out doing something on a Friday, or that you were truly happy at the sight of him, but the man spoke before he second guessed it, barely keeping himself from reaching for you to lay a hand against your bare arm. “Yeah, you too.” His words were true - running into you had improved his mood, making him momentarily forget the news he’d received from Natalie. Even though maybe … maybe it’s better I found that out before I saw… Jay frowned, the thoughts running through his head almost too quickly for him to keep up, but with no pause, he spoke again, saying your name. “I know you’ve got a new one, but … let me buy you your next drink?” 

He hoped that it didn’t sound as pathetic to you as it did in his head, but when he saw your lips part slightly, surprise filling your eyes, he figured that it didn’t. Good. Your smile was back; larger and more genuine than it had been only a few moments earlier and you tilted your head to the left, looking up at him. “Ask me again when this one’s gone, Jay.” Using one hand to gesture, you kept going. “We’re over there.” 

Saying nothing else, you turned and headed back to your friends, leaving the man to follow you with his eyes. Was that a stupid idea? Questioning himself as he returned his attention to the bar, Jay stepped forward and lifted a finger to get the bartender’s attention, her smile growing and one eyelid dropping in an obvious wink as she took notice of him. She didn’t say no. 

A few moments later, he stepped away from the bar - beer in hand - and headed for the railing, the man choosing a spot that allowed him an unobstructed view of the table you sat at when he turned his head to the right. He wasn’t going to watch you, but the vantage point gave him the opportunity to check on the status of your drink - if he decided to offer again. Does she want me to? 

He thought you did - and as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a deep swallow, he admitted to himself that he wanted you to want him to. Eyes on the water, Jay rested his elbows against the wooden railing, leaning forward and crossing his legs at the ankle, the toe of one boot propped up on the deck beneath his feet. 

He’d intended to spend the time at the bar figuring out what he wanted to do when it came to moving forward with Kat - but after the brief conversation with you, Jay knew that that wouldn’t be happening. Not tonight. Not here. 

Grinning against the curved rim of his beer glass, Jay drank again, closing his eyes. And that’s fine with me. 

— 

[something-tofightfor]

Nightingale - Part 3

Pairing: Jay Castillo x Female Reader 

Word Count: 8,188

Rating: M? Language, talk of implied infidelity, canon-typical content, mentions of blood and tattooing. 

Summary: The power outage at the shop means spending time outside of the building with Jay - but is it going to be awkward... or a step forward?

Author’s note:

THANK ALL OF YOU for reading the first two chapters of this. This one’s a lot longer, but I didn’t want to cut it in the middle, since I’m trying to keep these following the same POV format throughout. 

I appreciate every comment and reblog - I plan on answering your replies in the next couple of days. You’re all great and I love every single one of you.

Catch up on the first chapter here and the second here. 

There wasn’t any point in driving down the street, so instead, the two of you walked the distance to the coffee shop, making small talk. You were distracted, though, the events of the previous few minutes unfolding so quickly that you hadn’t had time to process them. 

The power being out was one thing, and the suggestion that you wait it out in case it came back in time was another, very sensible one … but spending an hour with your newly married tattoo artist at a coffee shop was something else entirely. But he’s not wearing a ring, and he’s not … he’s apparently not going on his honeymoon. 

You wondered what could have happened in the two months since you’d last spoken to Jay, and decided that it had probably been something awful, despite the fact that he was trying to hide it. Which makes sense because he doesn’t know me. You didn’t know him well at all, but sensed that he was off, the man’s gait slightly more stilted, his posture a little stiffer than it had been. 

There was no way to know for sure, though. 

When the two of you took seats across from each other at one of the outdoor tables that looked out toward Ocean Beach, you waited for him to speak. It took a few minutes, but then Jay broke the silence, his voice even.

“When I first started workin’ at the shop?” He eyed you, a thoughtful look on his face. “I’d stop here just about every day I had appointments.” That didn’t really surprise you. The ocean view was a lot different than the Bay view, and you figured that caffeine was necessary to get through long and difficult tattoo sessions. “Started with hot, black coffee.” He grinned, licking his lips and raising an eyebrow. “And then I moved onto the hard stuff. Added a couple shots of espresso to that coffee…” The man leaned closer, dropping his voice and you leaned in, too, lips pressed together to see what he was going to say. “But then I got a little insider information.” 

“Yeah?” He nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off of you. “You gonna tell me what that is, or -” “Butterscotch cold brew with a double shot and a splash of almond milk.” He tapped the menu with the palm of his hand, sitting straight up again. “Fucking life changing. I’m not sure if you like butterscotch, they also have a chocolate one, but -” “Why not?” You shrugged. “Never tried a flavor like that before, but if you say it’s good, it has to be.” Sliding out of the booth, you pointed to the door. “Want one?” He looked surprised that you were asking, but said yes, and so you turned away from the table, heading inside. There were only a few people in line, and you’d barely had time to let your mind wander before the barista was handing you two plastic cups and thanking you for coming in. That’s probably a good thing.

Pausing in the doorway for a few seconds, you watched the man, taking note of the way he was staring out and toward the road, fingers absently drumming against the table. He was playing it cool, and so you knew you needed to, also, but you didn’t want to outright ignore the fact that you could tell something was wrong. He looked over at the door a moment later, catching you staring at him. Oops. Without pause, there was a switch in his expression - distracted to focused, the man’s lips parting into a friendly smile - which you were annoyed to realize that you enjoyed seeing.

“You ready to try this?” He waited to speak until you sat and slid his drink to him, long fingers wrapping around the cup. “Got me through about a hundred tattoo sessions, so -” With the first swallow, you knew that you liked it - the bitterness of the espresso balanced by the sweet syrup, though the overall bite of the coffee was still present - but you decided to let him hang for a moment, frowning and then taking another small sip. “Oh no. You don’t like it?” He let out a sigh, raising a hand to swipe at his head. “Let me get you -” “No, it’s great.” Laughing, you raised one hand and waved him off. “I’m just messing with you. It’s really good, Jay.” He swore under his breath - something in Spanish that you didn’t catch because it was too quiet, but you saw his lips twitch before they wrapped around the straw, his head shaking back and forth. “Thanks for the recommendation.” The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, the sound of traffic and seabirds along with the subtle sound of waves crashing in the distance filling your ears. Might as well start talking. “Do you think the power’s going to come back?” 

“No, I don’t.” Sighing, he returned his attention to you. “Those estimates are usually bullshit, at least over at my place, but who knows. Maybe today’s gonna be different.” Honesty. I like that. 

“So if you don’t think it’s gonna come back, then why … why not just have me reschedule, and then you could have -” He moved quickly, pushing his cup to one side and extending his hand, pointing at your arm. 

“Lemme see it.” You moved at his request, holding your arm out only to feel his fingers encircle your wrist, tugging you a little closer over the small table. A moment later, he was moving his other hand’s fingertips over the skin of your bicep, head angled so that it didn’t block the sunlight. “It looks good.” He dragged the edge of his nail lightly over the lines, nodding. “You took care of it.” His gaze flicked back up to yours for a brief second and then back down, the man moving your arm just enough to pull it away from your body. “Not too much ink pull, no blowouts.” He cleared his throat. “We did good.” We? 

You would have been lying if you’d said that the feeling of his bare hands against your skin - out in the open and not within the confines of the shop - didn’t feel good, that the man’s attention to the bared flesh wasn’t making you feel seen in a way that hadn’t been the case in a while. It was your arm; the same area of skin that was visible on an almost daily basis to anyone that you came into contact with, but under his careful eye, it felt different, more intimate. Even though it’s not. “I just sat there, Jay. You did all the work.” 

After a quick scoff, he let go of your arm and took a long drink, finally looking at you again. “We didn’t really get into it during the session, so tell me about your tattoo.” He was deflecting - asking you questions so that he didn’t have to answer the half question you’d asked him, but that was fine. It’s fine because he doesn’t owe me that answer. You had no issue telling him about your tattoo, though, especially since he was the one that had brought it to life. 

“It’s for my grandmother.” Swallowing, you shook your head. “Actually, it’s sort of for both of my grandparents, but…” He looked interested, and you had to wonder just how many other tattoos he’d done as memorial pieces, how many stories he’d heard from the people that had sat in his chair. It doesn’t matter, he’s asking me right now. “She, um, she died about a year ago, and he only made it a couple months after that. They’d been married for almost 50 years, and …” You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “They couldn’t live without each other.” 

It seemed stupid - almost impossible - especially when you were hearing yourself say it out loud, but it was the truth. “So why a nightingale?” He was holding his cup in both hands, staring at you. “That’s a real specific kind of bird, right?” 

“She liked to sing.” The memory made you smile, shoulders rising and falling. “But only for him, so we never really believed it. My grandma was a lot of things, but we’d never thought she was a singer, because it was only …only when they were alone, so it was usually at night, when she was cleaning or cooking and it was just the two of them in the house. And only because she loved him so much.” Twisting the cup between your hands, you took a long breath. “He called her his nightingale for years, and then after she was gone, he’d spend nights by the window, waiting, even though the birds don’t live around here.” You saw the light flash in his eyes as he listened to you speak, but the man didn’t interrupt. “And now they’re both gone, so this is just a way for me to -” “Keep ‘em with you.” His smile in return after you nodded was another genuine one and he jerked his chin toward your arm. “It’s good. It’s a good tattoo for you. I’m glad you have those memories.” You were, too, and told him as much. “Thank you for trusting me with it.” 

“That’s what you’re in the shop for, right? To give people the tattoos that mean something to them?” He barely fought back an eye roll, which confused you. “Jay?”

“You’d think that when they’re putting something permanently on their bodies that people would always want something meaningful, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But you have no idea how many people walk in and have no idea what they want - just pick something off of the wall, or the ones that come in an have a picture of someone else’s tattoo and want the same thing?” He actually did roll his eyes then. “That’s why I wanted to draw you up somethin’ that wasn’t just Hanna’s design.” He took pride in his artistic ability - you knew that even if you’d only known the man for a little while, speaking to him briefly a few times. So that makes sense. And it worked out. “And to answer your question from before, I didn’t want to go home.” 

“Oh.” Figured as much. You didn’t know what else to say, even though you had a lot of questions. “Well, we’re here, so -” 

“You’re not gonna ask why?” He was frowning again, full lower lip pushed out into a pout that under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t have been able to keep your eyes off of. “Not gonna try to guess or anything?” “Do you want me to?” There was a charge in the air - the conversation veering drastically toward being entirely personal, and you knew that if you weren’t careful, it would get there fast. “It’s none of my business, so I just -” 

“Not gonna ask about that, or about the fact that I'm not wearing a wedding ring even though you know that I was supposed to get married right after your first appointment? Not wondering why the week of my honeymoon is marked off in the shop’s book, but I’m trying to take tattoo appointments those days instead of spending the time with my wife in Hawaii?” The longer he spoke, the more bitter his tone grew, his pout disappearing, the expression replaced with a frustrated snarl. He wants to tell me, wants to tell someone. 

“What happened, Jay?” You finished your drink, head moving back and forth slowly as you locked eyes with the man. “It’s only been a couple months, and you seemed -” “You aren’t married, right?” His eyes dropped to your hands, and when you told him no, that you’d never been, he continued. “I was. For six weeks.” Was? “Wedding was fucking beautiful. Our friends were there, both of our families. I was looking forward to startin’ my life with Kat, and everything was great.” He bit down on his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. “Guess I shoulda known it was all gonna to go to shit when my brother in law got killed the day after.” “What?” You stiffened at that, shaking your head back and forth. What the fuck? “Jay, wh-” 

“He got into a fight at the wedding with one of his best friends, and I guess that should have been my first clue.” The man’s eyes wandered for a few seconds, his chest rising and falling while he took a deep breath and released it. “Someone shot him in his driveway the next morning, and from that point on, everything just went downhill.” Shot in his driveway? You were in disbelief, but he had no reason to lie to you. “In front of his kid, too.” With that, you got it - the vague memory of a news story coming back to you. That was his wife’s family? 

“I heard about that. They never caught the guy that did it, right? I saw it on the news, but -” Jay met your eyes again, his wide and sad, a hint of coldness in them. 

“They didn’t. And I don’t think they will. Not the police, anyway.” What? He didn’t elaborate, though, instead continuing his story. “I figured that it would get better after some time, you know? We’d grieve and get through it together, but instead of turning to me, she turned to her family.” 

“Most people would, Jay.” You didn’t know the woman or her family, but it seemed natural to you. “I’m sure you aren’t as close to them as she is, so she just wanted to be with -” “No, see…” He leaned in, lacing his fingers together on the table. “I was with her the whole time. Went with her when she went to Marta’s. Let the kids stay with us. Let her mother stay with us. I did everything that I was supposed to do, and -” He cut himself off, wrinkling his nose. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… we don’t even know each other, and I’m -” You moved without thinking, reaching for his hands and squeezing his joined ones with one of yours. 

Both of you looked down at the contact, and with an embarrassed inhale you pulled back, apologizing under your breath. Shit. I shouldn’t have … shouldn’t have done that. “Don’t apologize. Sometimes you just need to tell someone that has no connection to any of it. Get it out, you know?” You had no idea what you were supposed to do with the information he gave you, no idea what he wanted or needed you to say. But maybe he just needs someone to listen? 

“I left.” He sniffled, shaking his head and then leaning back in his seat, avoiding eye contact. “We were married for six weeks, had a fight, and I left, and when I came back, she was gone and her rings were sitting on the counter.” 

“But you went back.” Moving forward so that you could lean your elbows on the table, you crossed your arms and said his name. “You went back, Jay. Whatever the fight was, you went back.” 

“Yeah. I did.” Do you still want to? That would have been the logical question. If he’d loved the woman enough to marry her, anything that could have happened in the previous months couldn’t have changed his feelings that much - or so you thought. “Look.” He wet his lips again, and you began to realize that the action was an indication of his discomfort - a sign that he was anxious. “This place closes at five, and it’s a little before. We should head back. If the power’s still off, you can come into the shop for a couple minutes, I’ll get you rescheduled, and then we can both go. If it’s on, and you don’t think I’m an asshole for dumping this on you, we’ll get this done today.” 

“You’re not an asshole.” Offering up what you hoped was a comforting smile, you moved to stand, holding your hand out for his cup. “You’ve had a rough couple of months. You married someone because you loved her, and this can’t be easy for you.” It wouldn’t be easy for anyone. He followed you as you headed for the trash can, dropping both empty containers into it. “And as long as you promise you can focus for long enough to get through my tattoo, I have no issue with -” “I’d never tattoo someone if I didn’t think I was able to give them the attention that they deserve.” He reached for you then, his fingers closing around your arm, just above your elbow. At the touch, you looked back at him, seeing sincerity written all over his face. “Ever.” He squeezed your arm and then let go, the two of you turning down the street and back toward the shop without saying anything else. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t thinking about what had just happened - and you knew that you would be for a long time. 

— 

He was pissed at himself. 

Jay hadn’t meant to go off the way he had, nor had he meant to tell you so much personal information at the barest hint of your interest. But she listened. He snuck a glance at you as the two of you neared the shop, focusing on keeping his breaths even. He’d gone back and forth between whether or not he wanted to say anything to you at all about what was going on, but the truth was that you put him at ease in a very different way than he’d expected, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself. 

He’d seen the look in your eyes, though, at the admission that he believed his marriage was over - it wasn’t quite pity, but it was surprise, a little bit of sadness and some confusion, too. Same as me. He’d been motivated by the story about your grandparents, realizing that even though he was in a situation that was highly unlikely to result in the same type of lasting relationship, he still wanted one. Might not be with Kat, but … maybe someone else. 

The power was still off, a note taped to the door explaining why the shop was closed, and so Jay used his key to unlock the front door instead of the alarm code, holding it open for you. “Looks like we’re gonna have to pull the book out.” Humming in agreement, you walked back to the counter, keeping your eyes on the array of body jewelry beneath the glass while he circled around to the cutout, reaching beneath the register for the book and a pen. “So you said no to Sunday. How about Tuesday at 6?” Glancing up, he saw that you were watching him intently, eyes focused on the way he was leaning against the glass across from you, one hand pressed against the surface, the other holding the pen tightly. Maybe I did fuck up. “Hey.” He said your name, clearing his throat. “Is -” “You should talk to her.” Blinking slowly, you raised your gaze to his face. “She’s still in the city, right? I figure from what you said, she probably went to stay with her sister, so you should go and see -” “No.” It came out sharp, the single word cutting through the empty room. “No, I’ve done that already.” You recoiled, standing straight up. “The fight we had?” He laughed, the sound bitter. “Wasn’t even really a fight. I walked in on something that I read wrong, and so I might have been a little off… but not enough to misinterpret the fact that she couldn’t tell me why she married me.” You gasped at that, covering your mouth with one hand and Jay knew that he’d overstepped. Fuck it. He ran a hand over the top of his head, lip curling. “So no, I think I’m done talking. If she wants to have a conversation we can, but the idea of being married to someone that can’t even tell me that she loves me is pretty goddamn unappealing.” 

“It wasn’t my business.” You were whispering, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry. Forget the second session, I’m just going to go. I’ll reschedule some other time.” No, don’t.. Don’t do that. You weren’t trying to make him feel worse - he could sense that you’d just spoken to try and help, and he felt terrible about his outburst. “Thank you for going with me to get cof-” 

You stopped mid-sentence when the lights came back on, both of you glancing up at the same time. Of course. “Perfect fucking timing.” He mumbled the words and was surprised to hear you snort in response, motion halted a few steps from the counter. “It’s my fault.” Opening your mouth to protest he silenced you with a raised hand. “Not her, that’s not my fault. I mean this.” He gestured between the two of you, trying for a reassuring smile. “It’s the first time I’ve told anyone that part of it, so I guess… I don’t know. I didn’t know how I’d feel saying it.” 

You stared at him for a few moments, eyes on his face, and then moved closer again, shoulders set. Something changed. Something’s different. She… “Do you want to tell me more about it? About how it felt?” Eyes moving in the direction of his booth, you stared at it for the span of a few breaths. “I’ve been told by a lot of people that I’m a good listener.” Slowly, you brought your eyes back to meet his, and he saw a challenge in them. No, not a challenge… it’s… 

“They can’t all be wrong, can they?” At almost the same time, both of you began laughing, Jay flipping the book shut and turning away from you. “Give me a couple minutes to get set up.” 

— 

It was a simpler set up than the previous session, and he finished quickly, even after stopping to take a call from Holly. She hadn’t been shocked to hear that he was going to tattoo you that day, telling him to have fun and not to forget to set the alarm before she hung up. Like I’d forget that. 

You were walking around the shop while he got ready, stepping into the other booths and looking at the art on the walls - flash and custom drawings, pictures of clients and completed tattoos and piercings. 

You didn’t touch anything, but by the time you made it to his space, Jay was ready for you, everything in place. “Same as before. Use the bathroom, grab a drink if you need one, I’m gonna go lock the front door, as long as that’s alright with you.” He saw the question before you asked it, quickly cutting in. “We’re not technically open right now, and someone might walk in if they see the lights on, so, if I lock the door, they can’t.” 

“Can you tattoo without the main lights?” Glancing up, you narrowed your eyes. “I don’t mind it being a little darker, as long as -” “I’ve got a lamp, yeah. If you’re sure you’re alright with that, it’ll make it less likely that someone’s gonna try to come in, especially since we’re supposed to be open til midnight tonight.” You waved him away, and Jay made quick work of locking the door and flipping the overhead lights off, bathing the entire shop in a soft, dusky light. You were sitting on the chair when he made it back to you, legs crossed at the knee. Jay turned the light over the sink on before he washed his hands and paused before he pushed the button on the floor lamp, angling it properly. “You sure you’re alright with this?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He heard  the chair squeak as you moved, and when the man turned back around, you were getting comfortable. “Holly’s right upstairs, and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to try anything, so…” 

“You were about three seconds from running out the door a few minutes ago, so I’m just making sure you don’t mind being locked in here together.” He heard your quiet noise of agreement, lowering the chair for you and then reaching into the box to pull out a pair of gloves. “You comfortable?” You’d already gone into the position you’d adopted the first session - stretching your arm out and resting the back of your hand against his thigh, but that time you were watching him. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.” 

“I shaved my arm before I came in today.” You cleared your throat. “So you can skip that part.” He grinned, winking at you without thinking about it, and the man was surprised to find that  even after the way the previous conversation had gone, he was more at ease than he’d been in weeks. Starting with the vaseline, he held up the machine in the other hand, waiting for your nod. “I’m good.” Dipping the needle, he moved it to your arm and started tattooing, the soft buzz of the machine the only other noise in the room. It didn’t stay that way for long, though, your voice cutting in. “So if I came in and wanted a tattoo on… say my shoulder, or my collarbone… would you shave that too? Just to be on the safe side? Or is it -” 

“It depends.” He kept his eyes on what he was doing, leaning closer. “Sometimes to cover our asses, we do it even if there’s nothing visible. But for you, no. I wouldn’t, because I can see that I don’t need to.” Your skin took ink well, and he was pleased to see that the light gray was already showing up, even though he’d only added it to a small area. “But the areas of the body where there typically is hair?” Pulling his hand back, he glanced up, your face less than a foot away. “We have to, even if the client says that they took care of it… and I don’t just mean arms and legs.” He watched your eyes widen as you realized what he meant, Jay’s smile growing before he returned to the tattoo. 

“I didn’t even think … I can’t imagine just walking into a tattoo shop and taking off my pants or shirt. How … have you done a lot of -” “Not a lot, but enough.” He didn’t like tattooing the places on the body that the two of you were talking about - and flat out refused to do some of them, but work was work, and for the most part, his clients had been fine. “I’m not gonna touch you, but I’ll show you.” He set the machine down, waiting for you to nod in agreement and then moved his hand over your body, holding it vertically and lowering it to follow the line of your hip and then inward. “This is common, over the top of the thigh and to the inside?” You were watching his hand, the man rotating it and pointing at the apex of your thighs. “Pubic bone is really popular for men and women, but I won’t do anything below here.” He moved a finger back and forth to show you his personally imposed barrier. “I’ve done I don’t know how many ass tattoos, or ones just below, on the back of the thigh?” You wrinkled your nose at that, Jay shrugging and licking his lips. “Lotta women coming in that want the front of their body done, too.” 

“You mean up here?” You pointed at your chest, pressing a hand against it. “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Yeah, there. But…” He moved his hand up, still keeping it hovering an inch or so above your body. “Stomach is a common spot, too. Underneath the bra line, up through here…” He used his fingers to indicate the spaces he was talking about, the tips of his gloved fingers grazing the material of your shirt as he moved his hand up and over your chest. Oops. It had been an accidental touch, but he caught the way you stilled at it, the man pulling back quickly. Shit. 

“Sounds like you’ve probably done a lot of interesting tattoos, Jay. Sorry I’m just getting mine on a boring place like my arm.” I’m not. You chuckled and he reached for the machine again, surprised to feel that his heart was beating faster than it had been. “Did your … how did she feel about that?” You didn’t know what to call Kat, and he didn’t either, but he knew who you were talking about. 

“She understood. It’s work, and it’s not like I’m fucking my clients on the tattoo table.” He was working again, eyes fixed on your skin once more. “I guess though if I’m being honest, I have slept with a few of the women I’ve tattooed throughout the years.” But. “I was dating them beforehand. They ended up letting me tattoo them after we were already together, so it wasn’t like I used my job as a dating service.” 

“That’d be weird, to have a tattoo from a guy that you used to date?” You cleared your throat. “Just a constant reminder of an old relationship, even if the design was something great, it’s always going to -” “It’s not always like that.” He dipped the machine again after wiping the blood from your arm. “One of my exes did part of one of my tattoos, and it’s not a bad memory for me.” You were silent for a minute or so, and then you spoke again, almost like you didn’t want to ask your question. 

“Did you ever tattoo your… Kat?” He’d known it was coming - you were sidestepping asking direct questions about their relationship, but still trying to show him that you’d meant it when you said he could talk to you. 

“No. She didn’t have a single one.” He frowned. “It kind of surprised me, and we’d always talk about me doing one for her, but it just didn’t… we were only together for 8 months before we got married, and everything happened kind of … fast.” That’s an understatement. 

He met the woman at a concert, catching her eye at the bar, and they’d been back at her place that night, not even hours later. It was a whirlwind for him - and looking back at it, he realized that they’d both likely been much too quick with everything, letting the haze of a healthy sex life and their ability to have fun together get in the way of building a relationship the way that it should have been done. By trusting each other. By telling each other the important shit. “I didn’t realize that you hadn’t been together long.” 

“Yeah.” Swallowing, he nodded. “I uh, proposed about five months in. Took everyone by surprise, but she said yes, and then everything was about planning the wedding. There was apparently a lot we didn’t know about each other, but it seemed … like a good idea.” He continued to move the needle over your skin, concentrating on the motion. “We never even took a vacation together. Our honeymoon was going to be the first one.”

He didn’t know why he was telling you any of the things he was. He’d only told his closest friends vague details, what they needed to know, and it had been enough. But with you, he was being honest, telling you the things that he had been unsure of throughout the relationship, pointing out the flaws in both himself and Kat. Maybe it’s because she really doesn’t know either of us. 

“You should still go on your trip.” His attention snapped to your face, toes lifting from the pedal to stop the machine. What? “You know what happens in all those movies. A relationship doesn’t work out, so one person takes the trip that both of them booked, and ends up finding the person they’re really supposed to be with in the middle of it.” You shrugged, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just an idea.” 

“She booked everything.” It was another thing he didn’t like admitting, but the man was on a roll and didn’t see any reason to slow it. “She and her family have always been pretty well off. My job pays the bills, but I couldn’t afford a trip like that by myself. I’m sure they’ve already canceled or transferred the tickets and reservations, so that’s not an option.” The look in your eyes didn’t change as he spoke, so Jay continued. “Maybe you’re right, though, and I should go somewhere, take the week off like I planned, and just … figure shit out.” 

“Might help.” You used your free hand to point at the arm he was working on. “You’re finishing this up now, and I didn’t see anything on your schedule after next Sunday morning, so …” He stayed quiet while he thought, focused on packing the last bit of gray into the tail of your bird. He had some money saved, and when he’d attempted to give a portion of the gifts that he and Kat had received as wedding presents back, knowing that it was the right thing to do, most of his friends had waved him off, telling him they didn’t want anything from him. Because they’re good people. “Even if you just drive north and camp or something, Jay? You’ll get away from the city. Get away from everything. You won’t have to talk to anyone, or …” 

“That’s a good idea.” He took a deep breath, sitting up and scooting away from you as he set the machine down. “I’m done with the gray. Gonna take a break before I start the white, but it won’t take me long to do that.” Pushing yourself into an upright position, he watched as you glanced down, eyeing what he’d done. 

“It’s swelling more today. Hurts a lot more, too.” You’d still sat well, barely moving as he worked, and even though the coffee you’d consumed was the cause of the increased bleeding that he saw, it still wasn’t bad. 

“I’m tattooing over still healing skin.” He pulled his gloves off, tossing them into the trash and scratching the back of his neck. “That’s why it hurts more.” The man stood, raising his arms over his head and stretching. “You’re still sitting well, though. Even better this time. You’re making this real easy for me.” 

“That’s the first time a guy’s ever said that about me.” You grinned up at him, the man unsure about whether or not you were looking for a response from him. “It’s a joke, Jay. You can laugh.” He did, closing his eyes and biting down on his lower lip. But the words made him wonder about you, about what you were like outside of a tattoo appointment. What she’s like with her friends. “I didn’t know that, though. About the reason it hurts more?” You were eyeing him, watching as he did a quick lap from his booth across the shop and back. “Makes sense.” 

“I’m trying not to go too hard on the places I’ve already done.” He washed his hands again, drying them before he turned to face you. “Don’t want it to scar, or ruin what we’ve already got.” Sitting back down, he replaced his gloves, switching to the white ink. Twenty more minutes, maybe less. Motioning for you to extend your arm, he was surprised to feel your fingers close around his knee, squeezing for a few seconds before you let go and eased onto your back. Once comfortable, you turned your arm so that he could reach the skin he needed. What was that for? 

“I appreciate that.” You took a deep breath, eyes on the ceiling. “I’ve gotten a lot of compliments on it already.” That made him happy, Jay’s eyes moving over  to the picture he was using for reference before he dipped the needle into the cup of white ink. “Can’t wait to hear what they have to say about the finished thing.” 

“You’ll have to let me know.” Glancing up at you after he spoke, he paused. “Call the shop, I mean.” Of course that’s what I meant. “Do you want another one yet?” 

“What?” He heard surprise in your voice, the man turning his attention to you for a brief second, the machine silent. “Another … tattoo?” 

“Yeah.” He gave you a single nod and then tapped the pedal again, adding a highlight to the bird’s eye. “There are some people that have a single tattoo in mind, swear that it’s the only one they’re gonna get. But you’d be surprised at how many people come back for a second and a third… and just keep going.” 

“I haven’t really thought about it.” Your words were quiet, the man feeling as your fingers twitched against his leg, the needle passing over the very tip of the bottom of the beak. “If I do, though, I’ll definitely come back to you.” 

“Not gonna give Hanna a chance to redeem herself for canceling?” Glancing up, he watched as you rolled your eyes, tongue tracing over your lip as you wet it. 

“No. I’m happy she couldn’t do this one. You’ve got magic hands, Jay, they’re the only ones I want on me.” You meant it in relation to the way he tattooed - he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from sucking in half a breath at the way the words slipped from your mouth and met his ears, the innocent comment striking a nerve. It was a genuine compliment - something he hadn’t heard in a long time, and he couldn’t help straightening up slightly, meeting your eyes. “I… meant with the tattoo. I -” “I know you did.” He swallowed hard, blinking at you without looking away. “I guess I just … wasn’t expecting you to say something like that.” No, that’s not it. “Forget it.” He exhaled, looking up at the ceiling and then returned to your tattoo, his focus on the bird’s belly, adding the soft white underside. The truth was that Jay was attracted to you. That had been true even before he’d been married, but he’d chalked it up to the same scenario as when other good looking women became his clients. He was attracted to you and he enjoyed talking to you, and it was evident in the way that he’d admitted things he hadn’t planned to without much hesitation. And I shouldn’t. Because I’m still married.

But Kat hadn’t wanted the rings back, even though he’d taken them to Marta’s. She hadn’t wanted to speak to him. She hadn’t wanted to sit down and talk things over, instead telling him that she’d “be in touch” when it was time. He assumed that meant when she was ready to file whatever paperwork she was going to file, but had no way of knowing for sure. All of those things should have been weighing him down entirely, but apart from the anger and frustration he felt, Jay had accepted that whatever was going to happen would happen. Because what else can I do? She didn’t fight for us. 

There were only a few minutes left of your tattoo session, and at the realization, Jay worked up the courage to give you an opportunity to do what you’d offered to do: listen. “Kat was acting really weird with me. Not just about Evan and Marta, but about everything. At first, I asked a lot of questions, trying to get her to talk to me, you know?” You agreed that you did, but didn’t offer up any other reply. “And when that didn’t work, I stopped asking. I didn’t stop anything else, just stopped bothering her about the things she didn’t want to tell me. Figured when she was ready, she would.” 

“Smart. You push someone too far, and they’ll just explode.” That’s true. He was working on the last bit of white - spaces within the tiny branch that the bird was perched on, and knew that time with you was nearly at an end. They will. 

“And then I walked in on her talking with this FBI agent that was assigned to the case. They were in our kitchen, and the front door was open, but she … she was just wearing one of my shirts over her underwear, and it felt off.” You stiffened at that, which he took note of, the man pulling the machine away from your skin and setting it down, reaching for the paper towels and bottle of soap, dampening the folded squares. “Gonna be cold, but just for a second.” You laughed quietly as he wiped your arm clean, methodically removing and sanitizing the work he’d just done. “She explained it right away, and the explanation made sense. I had been complaining about how we hadn’t really spent time together, how it didn’t feel like we were actually married, how I just wanted things to feel a little more … normal, and she was trying to do something to make that happen.” 

Scooting back and away from you, Jay reached for one of the bandages and the tape, sliding back into position as you stared down at the inside of your arm. “It looks great. The white… it’s bright, even though it’s a little red, and -” “Blood’s coming through right now. It won’t look like that when it’s healed, I promise.” He focused his gaze on your face for a few seconds, waiting until you nodded. “Want to look at it in the mirror before -” “Nope.” You twisted your arm, lifting it up and holding it out toward him. “I see it from this angle. I love it. I’ll stare at it in the mirror in the privacy of my own house, where I can look for as long as I want to.” He grinned at that, closing his eyes and nodding. If that’s what you want. “Keep going, Jay.” The last sentence was spoken in a much softer tone than the others, guiding him back to what he’d been saying. 

“She uh, she’d been cooking me dinner, but it was burned, so she just poured me a glass of wine, but I couldn’t let it go. I pushed, and when she still didn’t give me a real answer and told me nothing was going on, I …” He wrapped his fingers around your upper arm, smoothing the bandage into place, using his thumb to seal the tape to your skin. “I asked her point blank why she even married me if she couldn’t tell me the truth.” Bringing his eyes up to meet yours, he saw sympathy in them. “She didn’t have an answer.” 

“Jay, I…” You brought your newly bandaged arm up, that hand covering your mouth in surprise. “That’s not what I was expecting.” 

“I wasn’t expecting it either. If she’d asked me that, I would have immediately told her that I married her because I loved her. That I wanted to be with her. That she made me happy.” He frowned. “But she just stumbled over her words, and when I walked away, she didn’t follow me.” 

“That fucking sucks.” Yes, it does. Averting your eyes, you took a deep breath. “So what happens now?” 

“I wait. I wait and see when she serves me with divorce papers. I wait and see what she wants from me, because at this point, your guess is as good as mine about what that might be.” He gestured with one hand toward the front of the shop and the two of you walked that way, you a few steps ahead of him. “But she doesn’t want me, not anymore. And maybe she never did.” I haven’t said that to anyone either.

“She’s an idiot then.” You were standing next to the register, Jay’s attention returning to your face as you spoke. “Because you clearly loved … love her. It seems like you wanted to make it work, and it sounds like she didn’t give you a chance.” You spoke with your head tilted to one side, the man watching as you took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, slowly releasing it. “I hope someone else gives you that chance.” 

He didn’t know what it was - the low lighting in the shop, the way you were looking at him, the sincerity he heard in your words or maybe just the fact that he’d been baring himself to you verbally for the previous few hours - but Jay realized that he wanted to kiss you more than he’d wanted anything else in a very long time. I can’t. Shifting from one foot to the other, he didn’t look away and neither did you, though neither of you spoke. 

It wasn’t the right time, and he knew it, but the man couldn’t help the way he looked at you, or wondering what it would feel like to touch you, to find out if your lower lip was as soft as it looked, to run a knuckle or two against the inside of your arm or down your back. No. That’s not what this is. “I hope so, too.” He forced the words out, fighting to keep both hands at his sides. She’s not a rebound. “I’ll get through it. I’ve got no other choice now.” 

“You will.” Finally breaking eye contact, you looked down and reached into your purse. “What do I owe you?” 

“Nothing.” Mouth falling open, you looked back up at Jay, brows knit. “You don’t owe me anything for this one. You let me dump all this bullshit on you all day, and… that’s enough.” 

“I can’t let you do that. You used all that ink and the -” “You can and you’re gonna.” Swiping at the top of his head, he put his other hand on his hip. “Just make sure you send people my way if they ask where you got it.” You wanted to argue with him - he could see it on your face, but instead you agreed, eyes closing as you thanked him. “No. Thank you. I just needed someone to listen, like you said. It was worth it.” 

“Alright.” Gesturing to the back of the shop, you continued. “Can I use the bathroom before I go?” Telling you that you could, he turned to watch as you walked by, eyes following your movement until the door closed behind you. 

“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out what he hoped was a quiet breath. “Oh, shit.” He’d overstepped - he was almost sure of it, but didn’t know if you’d say anything or just leave, and so he stepped back into the booth and started cleaning up, methodically breaking everything down. 

He heard the door open and glanced up as you headed toward him, pausing before you walked by. “Thank you again.” You didn’t say anything else and the man smiled up at you, waiting to see what came next. “I hope I’m not going too far if I say that I enjoyed today.” 

“You aren’t. I did too.” There wasn’t a reason for him to lie to you, and so he didn’t. “Take care of that tattoo, alright?” Assuring him you would, you said goodnight, telling him that you could unlock the door without him, and so he returned to work, resisting the urge to watch as you walked out the door. 

Instead, he finished with what he was doing, thoughts flitting back and forth over what you’d talked about that day. And how much it helped.  Almost fifteen minutes later, Jay turned the light off over the sink and then flipped the floor lamp off, plunging the shop into almost total darkness. It wasn’t late, but Jay realized that he was hungry, the man deciding to stop on his way home rather than attempting to cook with whatever was in the kitchen. 

As he passed the front counter, he stopped at the sight of something sitting atop the glass, his lips curving upward into a smile when he realized what it was. I should have known. You’d left him a handful of bills inside of a folded up paper towel, and even though it was difficult to make out in the low light, Jay saw that you’d written something on the sheet, too. It was your phone number, along with a short note. 

You ever need someone to be honest with you - call me. Don’t forget to set the alarm. 

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and slipping the bills into it. Jay stared down at the blue ink on the paper, focused not only on the words, but the numbers, too, weighing his options. A short time later, the folded paper joined the money - but not before he’d saved your number into his phone, his smile growing wider with each digit he typed. 

—