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In the two years that they’ve been together, Tommy learned very quickly that Evan collects tattoos like his little brother collected Pokémon cards when they were children. Some days, Tommy will come home from a 48 and discover that Evan, in a moment of spontaneity, had gone out and gotten new ink. Last month, it had been a hummingbird tattoo after he’d done a late-night deep dive into them following a National Geographic special. The exasperated fondness on Eddie’s face was a mirror of his own as Evan had spouted off fact after fact – did you know that they’re the only bird that can fly backwards? O-or that a flock of them is referred to as a bouquet? – to the point that he and Eddie had resorted to desperate measures to convince Evan to put the tablet down.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult to convince Evan once their clothes had started coming off, and by the time they were through with him he hadn’t had energy left to even think about hummingbirds, let alone continue researching them. At least until the next day, when he’d decided on a hummingbird for his next tattoo.
So, when Tommy comes home from his shift, he’s not exactly surprised to see the Saniderm bandage shining on the inside of Evan’s right forearm from where he’s sitting on the couch, playing Mario Kart with Eddie. What is surprising, is the same kind of bandage covering the outside of Eddie’s right bicep. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t have tattoos, it’s that he has so few in comparison to Evan, and as far as Tommy knows hadn’t had any plans on getting a new one.
“Hey,” he greets, smiling at the quick greetings thrown his way; they’re all very intense about Mario Kart, Tommy included. Evan’s in the lead, but not for long if the blue shell in Eddie’s arsenal is anything to go by – he’s always been the best at nailing down when to hit the button to slow down the item roulette.
Taking a moment, Tommy retrieves a beer from the fridge before joining Evan and Eddie on the couch just as Eddie releases his shell, crowing in triumph as he overtakes Evan moments before the finish line.
“C’mon,” Evan groans in defeat, “that has to be cheating.”
“Having good timing on the item box is not cheating, you’re just a sore loser,” Eddie says, taking a swig of his own beer.
“I am not a sore loser,” Evan says, pouting up at Tommy as though expecting him to agree.
“Yes, you are,” Tommy says, and ignores Eddie’s snickering as he leans in for a quick kiss. “But you’re adorable, so you get a pass,” he adds, laughing as Evan immediately perks up.
“Don’t encourage him,” Eddie says firmly, and Tommy chuckles with a shake of his head.
“So, new ink?” He asks, changing the topic before Evan can retort.
“Oh, yeah,” Evan says, excited as he holds out his forearm for Tommy to inspect. “It’s an Atlas Moth.”
Tommy nods in understanding and smiles fondly, recognizing it as Evan’s favourite. Dating someone who had a favourite moth, of all things, was a novel concept for Tommy but was quickly becoming one of his favourite quirks about Evan. His fascination with insects had been something Tommy never quite understood – the first time Tommy had killed a beetle in his presence he hadn’t heard the end of it for a week – but the way Evan lights up whenever talking about whatever new species of creepy crawly quickly had Tommy setting aside his own dislike of the critters in favour of basking in Evan’s excitement. Now, instead of squashing the bugs, Tommy dutifully catches and releases them into the wild. He’s a good boyfriend like that.
“And you?” Tommy asks, looking up at Eddie.
Eddie twists so he can better see his left bicep. “You remember the memory box we came across when moving?” He does, it’d been after he and Eddie had sold their homes before a house large enough for the three of them and a teenager. While packing Eddie’s home, they’d come across a box filled with memorabilia from the time Christopher was a baby to just before their move from Texas. “I’d been wanting to get something like this done for awhile,” he says, proudly showing off the tiny footprints tattooed to his left arm with Christopher’s birthdate underneath.
“That’s beautiful, Eddie”
“Thanks,” he says, smiling.
“Has Christopher seen it yet?” Tommy asks. Christopher’s at a friend’s for the night but Eddie could have sent him a photo.
“Not yet,” Eddie says, “Figure I’ll show him when he gets home, though chances are he’ll find it more embarrassing than anything.”
Tommy laughs in response; it’s true, at sixteen years of age the teenage attitude is in full swing.
“So,” Evan says, tone thoughtful, “Eddie and I both have tattoos, which kind of makes you the odd man out.”
Here we go, Tommy thinks as he rolls his eyes in exasperation at the teasing lilt in Evan’s voice. They’ve been down this road before, a few times, actually.
“Baby, I told you-”
“I know, I know, your body is a temple and-”
“I never said that,” Tommy says, cutting Evan off as Eddie barks out a laugh.
“It was definitely implied,” Evan says, smug. “I just think that you’d look really good with a little ink on you.”
“He’s not wrong,” Eddie says, shooting him a smirk.
“I don’t even know what I’d get,” Tommy groans.
“You just have to find something that means something to you,” Eddie says.
“What about the first helicopter you flew?” Evan suggests.
“Not a chance,” Tommy answers. “The first helicopter I flew was with my dad.”
While the memory is overall a good one, it’s still tainted by the presence of his father, and saying so is enough for Evan and Eddie to understand why that’s not something Tommy would want to be reminded of everyday.
“Something else then,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “I’m sure we can come up with something.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.
Normally, whenever they have the Tattoo Conversation as Tommy has taken to labelling it in his mind, Tommy doesn’t think anything more of it. This time, the thought won’t leave him alone. He blames Evan for suggesting he get a tattoo of the first helicopter he flew. It wasn’t a bad suggestion, and if that memory didn’t involve Tommy’s father – a man Tommy hasn’t spoken to in going on ten years now – he might’ve even been open to it. It’s a good memory, one of the very few he has with his father.
He’d been seventeen, and he’d wanted to learn to fly for nearly as long as he could remember. His father had been a pilot in the military as well, and he’d been proud when Tommy took an interest in flying. He remembers their first time going up together with Tommy behind the controls, the whoosh of the blades as they’d sped up, the combination of nerves and excitement that he could feel deep in his belly. Then, the feeling of freedom as they’d made it up into the sky and the look of pride on his dad’s face.
He still feels warm whenever he thinks about it, and he wonders if there isn’t still a part of him that longs for that approval once more.
It’s that thought that washes away any warmth he feels when he thinks of that moment, because whatever approval had existed there was conditional and the moment Tommy had broken their unspoken agreement, it had been replaced by swift disappointment and disgust.
Such a tattoo would only serve as a reminder of all the ways he could never measure up to impossible standards.
But still, it wasn’t a bad thought, even if it was a touch misguided, which is why a week later he’s still thinking about it. Only this time, it’s not his first flight or his father he’s thinking about, but his mother. He’d been fourteen when she’d passed. Breast cancer – it had felt like no time at all between the diagnosis and Tommy saying his tearful goodbyes at her bedside, somehow both old enough to understand, and too young to comprehend his impending loss.
She’d liked birds. Loved them, more like. She’d likened herself to an amateur Ornithologist – it had been her goal to become one before she’d gotten pregnant with Tommy in the middle of getting her degree in wildlife biology. They couldn’t afford the childcare they would’ve needed for her to finish her degree, so she’d dropped out to raise him.
She’d never resented him for it, or if she did, it wasn’t to any degree that Tommy was able to pick up on it. She did share her love of wildlife with him, however, and in particular, her love of birds. He remembers the first time she took him bird watching with her. He thinks he was seven at the time and he remembers the weight of the binoculars in his small hands and feeling so important for getting to be the one to carry them. He remembers her quietly murmuring the details of each bird they’d come across, most of them fairly common until he’d spotted it circling above them – a red-tailed hawk.
He can still recall the powerful beat of its wings before they’d straighten out, almost lazy in its glide as it searched for prey. Up to that moment it was the most beautiful thing he thinks he’d ever seen, and he remembers his seven year old brain thinking, Oh, I want to do that. That was the moment he’d known he wanted to fly, even if he hadn’t quite understood just how that would work for him at the time.
It’s not difficult to get the name of Evan and Eddie’s tattoo artist once he makes his decision – Evan is a hoarder of business cards and for once, Tommy is thankful for it. He decides against telling them his plans as he schedules a consultation with the artist in favour of surprising them after the fact.
It’s another three weeks before Tommy’s plan comes to fruition. After several meetings with the artist, Tommy is able to settle on a design and he makes his booking for a day that Eddie and Evan are working. It had taken him some time to figure out where he wanted the placement today, eventually settling on his left forearm. The wings of the hawk would be spread along his arm in flight, as though the bird were gliding across his arm. The first session, they focus on the outline, with some minimal shading added before they settle up. He’ll have to come back for another session to finish it, and his only regret is that he won’t be able to shock the other two with the fully finished product, but this will have to do.
The next morning, Tommy is sitting in the living room with the news on when he hears the distinct sound of the jeep doors slamming. It’s followed within moments by the jangle of keys and then the flip of the lock before the door opens and Evan and Eddie are walking in, both looking incredibly exhausted. He’d seen the text messages in their group-chat. Apparently the new probie had uttered the dreaded ‘q-word’ and Evan – who is still convinced of the existence of curses, bless him – fully believes it to be the reason that they were bombarded with call after call after call. Eddie, ever the skeptic, and a man after Tommy’s own heart had done the texting equivalent of rolling his eyes before laughing in Evan’s face.
He's greeted with a kiss from each of his boys before they collapse on either side of him, Evan leaning heavily into his side as he rests his head on Tommy’s shoulder.
“Chris?” Eddie asks, as he tilts his head back, eyes closed.
“Took him to school this morning, had to practically use a blowhorn to get him up this morning but we got there,” Tommy says, laughing.
“I miss little Chris,” Evan murmurs beside him, hand held out at what Tommy imagines must be indicative of his height when Evan first met him. “That Chris was easy, listened to everything I said and loved the zoo. Now when I suggest going to the zoo it’s like I offended him and he only wants to hang out with his friends.”
“Teenagers,” Eddie sighs, “Now that I’m living it with my own, I kinda feel bad for all the shit I pulled when I was his age.”
“Don’t we all,” Tommy agrees.
It’s not so bad, Chris is actually wonderful, occasional bouts of teenaged attitude aside. Telling him about the three of them had been the scariest part of them even considering giving this a shot, but the way he’d taken it in stride when they did finally take that step, had been so reassuring for the three of them. Eddie would’ve never been open to this if Chris had had any objections and the three of them knew it.
He's broken from his thoughts as Eddie shifts beside him in search of the remote and it’s as he’s leaning forward to grab it that he pauses and Tommy knows the jig is up.
“What’s that?” He asks.
“Hm?” Tommy responds, playing dumb as Eddie leans in closer.
“That. On your arm,” he says it slowly, his eyebrow raised as he returns his gaze to Tommy’s face.
“Oh, that,” Tommy says, unable to hide his grin as Evan finally takes notice as well.
“Did you get a tattoo?” Evan asks in disbelief, grabbing for Tommy’s arm to extend it.
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” Tommy says, chest shaking with repressed laughter at the betrayal in Evan’s voice.
“I can’t believe you got one without us,” he says while still examining the ink.
“Wait a minute,” Eddie says, looking closer once more, “Is that Drew’s work?”
Tommy can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes at the look on Evan’s face as his neck snaps up, eyes wide.
“It is!” Evan exclaims, “I can’t believe you went to my guy and didn’t say anything, after I’ve been telling you about him for over a year.”
Eddie’s laughing now too as Evan’s does a poor job of hiding how pleased he is, trying desperately to keep the betrayed look on his face.
“We were right, you know,” Eddie says smugly, “You do look good with some ink.”
Tommy huffs in amusement, shaking his head slightly and thinks that maybe if they weren’t both so beat from their shift, they’d already be making their way to the bedroom.
“So why a red-tailed hawk?” Evan asks suddenly, and Tommy’s not the least bit surprised that Evan recognized the bird on sight.
“Oh, it’s for my mother,” he says softly, and then tells them the story of when he’d first realized he wanted to fly.
They listen to his story with intent. Even if he doesn’t talk about her much, they’d known that Tommy had been close with his mother, and they’d known that he’d wanted to fly for almost as far back as he could remember, but they hadn’t known how those stories were intertwined. Two years in and they were still learning new things about each other. It was funny how something as trivial as a tattoo could reveal so much, a tattoo he hadn’t even planned on or wanted initially. He can picture his mom now, shaking her head with a smile as Tommy shares a piece of himself that had long since been buried.
He thinks she’d be proud of the little family they’ve created, and even if she’d been vocally against tattoos because – why would you want to put something like that on your skin? It’s permanent, and you’re already perfect, Tommy – he thinks that she just might have actually approved of this one.