Chapter Text
The television in a small tattoo parlor was just loud enough to be heard over the low hum of Vox’s tattoo gun. He tried desperately not to glance at it, hearing the name “Akuma” alongside the camera shutters at a live red carpet event. As he worked, his client noticed a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead.
“Maybe we should take a break, you’ve been at this for two hours straight, man,” he suggested sympathetically.
“Don’t worry, I’m a professional.”
“Yeah, and even professionals need breaks sometimes.”
“Alright then,” Vox relented and leaned back to admire his work. A large dragon spanned the length of an older man’s calf, the lines of its scales nearly finished.
“Hey, isn't that the guy from uhh…what’s that movie, Homewrecker?” the client asked. Vox turned his head and looked at the TV and pursed his lips when he saw a freezeframe of Akuma, his favorite actor, getting into an altercation at the event. The word ‘favorite’ was an understatement; Akuma was his idol, with pictures, posters, and movie merchandise all over his apartment. But he couldn’t let his friends or clients at work know he had the biggest mancrush on the local actor known for his dramatic romance flicks.
“Who’s the other guy?” the client asked, pointing to the man reeling from a punch.
“That’s the guy from Alien Jailbreak,” Vox answered, fixing the updo of his long black hair.
“Ren?”
“No, the other one, Doppio.”
“No way, they still have beef?” the tattoo-covered client laughed.
“Since they starred together in Homewrecker 2, Vox hasn’t managed to stay in the same room as him without picking a fight. Doppio’s character stole the wife while he was with the girlfriend.”
“But it’s just a movie, they’re actors and characters.”
“Vox wasn’t aware of the script involving Doppio, the director kept it a secret so his anger would be genuine. See, he was dating the wife’s actress at the time, so watching another man suddenly kiss her sent him into a massive fit of rage and he left the girlfriend in the most method crashout Hollywood’s ever seen.”
“You seem to know a lot about this movie.”
“I’ve only seen it a few times, it’s his latest one,” Vox shrugged.
“A few times is more than most people…”
Vox gestured in agreement, clicking his tongue. Once the coverage of the fight was over, he flexed his tattooed arms and got back to work.
Later that night, right before closing at ten, someone walked in.
“We’re about to close!” Vox called from the desk where he was shutting a laptop. After a long day, strands of hair had fallen out of his bun and around his face. The tired tattoo artist looked up, and saw an older man in his late thirties standing in front of him. He was wearing a suit and frowning.
“Oh my god,” he said in soft shock, trying to keep cool.
“Yeah I know it’s late, I just got off the carpet, I was wondering if you’d be willing to stay open to do a quick tatt before I have to go back on set tomorrow.”
“If you’re who I think you are, I don’t think your director is gonna be too happy with you showing up with a tattoo.”
“That’s the idea,” Akuma said simply in his velvety actor voice. It was deep with a slight British accent.
“Are you trying to get out of the contract?”
“Tsk, you know I can’t say that. But I am trying to prove a point– to myself too. So will you do it or not?”
Vox’s eyes wandered down the man’s narrow chest where there was a bloodstain on his lapel next to a misshapen red pocket square. Akuma was half his size, but it was clear he could throw a hell of a punch if Doppio got messed up enough to bleed on him.
“If you’re paying in cash, sure,” Vox said, gesturing to the closed laptop, “What did you have in mind?”
“A skull, right here,” Akuma replied, a hand on his bloody lapel.
“...Is that intended to be a threat to someone?” Vox asked, suddenly concerned. Akuma narrowed his eyes.
“If they want to take it that way, sure.”
“Forget I asked. I have some stencils you can pick from in these three books, the orange ones are $100, the green one’s $150, and the blue one’s $200. There should be a dozen different skull designs between them.”
Akuma opened the green book and quickly flipped to a design he liked.
“That was fast, you don’t want to look at the other ones?”
“I found one that looks nice, is that not good enough?”
“Plenty of good designs to choose from,” Vox muttered. He suddenly wished he hadn’t agreed to this. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his cool for another hour. “Tell you what, I’m gonna hit the can real quick, you take your time looking at the designs, and I’ll be over at that first table.”
Vox walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He let out a breath he had been holding and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He took a leak and splashed water on his face to freshen up. He fixed his hair and black denim overalls and admired his physique in the mirror. Akuma had never been on a set with a guy like him, he thought, most of his costars were women, and romcom actors weren’t known for their strength. Vox could pick up that scrawny man and toss him around if he wanted to. God he wanted to.
He shook off the thought quickly and returned to the parlor area where Akuma was waiting with a new stencil. It was a more detailed skull with soft shading.
“Oh that one’s really nice, it’s a blue type, you got the cash?”
“Yeah,” Akuma replied and slid two hundred dollar bills towards him.
“Alright, let’s get started then. Full black?”
“Will makeup be able to cover it?”
“I thought you were trying to make a statement.”
“Yeah about motherfuckers trying to get between me and my career. I’m not trying to throw it away.”
“It should be fine. Any allergies? How’s your pain tolerance?”
“None, and I can handle pain just fine, I do my own stunts,” he said confidently.
Noted, Vox thought. “Good, just need you to take off your shirt so we can get started.”
Akuma shed his suit coat and began unbuttoning his shirt. Vox realized he was biting his lip and busied himself with preparing his tattoo gun. It only took a minute, then they were both ready.
His idol sat in front of him, shirtless, waiting for Vox to put his hands on him. Tattooing wasn’t sensual like a massage, but Vox started picturing himself rubbing his hands down his toned chest and abdomen anyway. He liked the big built look for himself, but for the people he was into like Akuma, being able to touch fingers around their waist was the best part of-
“Right here,” Akuma said, interrupting his thoughts. He pointed to a spot on his chest, just over his heart. Vox lined up the stencil and applied it to his pale skin. After lifting away the paper, he held a mirror in front of Akuma for him to see.
“Is that good?”
“Yeah.”
“Let that ink dry for a bit and we can get buzzin’. Y’know I saw you on the carpet. It was on TV while I was working on my last client,” Vox said casually, making small talk. He was proud of himself for keeping composure so far. He had experience working on celebrities before, but he’d never been worried about leaving a good impression on them like this.
“The game was on too, shoulda changed the channel,” Akuma scoffed.
“Not too proud of that scuffle, I take it?”
“Doesn’t matter how I feel about it, it’s all over the internet by now and I’m probably gonna have a tough time with casting for a while.”
“All you gotta do is show ‘em you can play nice. If you see him again, don’t lose it on him. That was the first and last time, shit’ll pass.”
“You sound like my manager.”
“It’s just advice.”
“And I’m paying you for a tattoo, not advice,” Akuma huffed.
“You’d rather I just turn the news on and we sit in silence listening to the latest buzz?” Vox asked with a playful smirk. He wondered if replays of the punch would be running as soon as he turned on the TV.
“Whatever, just get this done,” Akuma said and looked away.
While working on the tattoo, Vox kept getting distracted by Akuma’s nipples. The air was getting cold since he shut off the heat before closing and didn’t turn it back on. Akuma’s nipples were so stiff and he couldn’t stop glancing at them.
Vox was getting stiff too, his dick pitching a slight tent under his overalls. He was hoping Akuma didn’t notice, but it must have been obvious; he must have been looking at it.
“Just focus on your work, man,” Akuma said, his voice urgent with sympathetic embarrassment.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Vox apologized, blushing as he worked. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he tried to push the thoughts of putting his mouth on those nipples out of his mind.
“Stare? I meant- the hell were you staring at?!” Akuma glared at him.
“Nothing! I uh- was just thinking about something I saw earlier today. Lost focus for a minute there, thanks,” Vox said quickly.
He had recovered just long enough to finish the tattoo. He then wiped it clean and put a second skin bandage over it. Akuma watched him work with a handheld mirror. He looked happy with it.
“All good! Uh- hey- uh…are you…doing anything after this? Tonight I mean?”
“Might go to a bar and find a quick fuck, why? Wanna come with? Looks like you could use one too.”
“Oh yeah sure, sure, cool, let me close up here and I’ll be right behind ya. Going to Tony’s up the road right?” Vox spoke as casually as possible, asking internally what the hell he was getting himself into.
“Tony’s?”
“Yeah it’s a shitty little dive, but the beer’s good and the babes are better, you’ll love it.”
Akuma put his shirt and jacket back on and waved cockily before getting into his black Camero. Rich bastard. Vox removed his overalls, leaving him in a tight black shirt and jeans that hugged his chest and ass. He then locked the parlor and followed in his old beat-up Camry.
Akuma could hear rock music from the car behind him at a red light and rolled his eyes. He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Vox drumming on the steering wheel. Amused, he smirked and kept driving.
Vox spotted Akuma’s white shirt in the bar some time after he arrived. In the low lighting, nobody recognized him, but it seemed he was still hesitant to get himself a drink. The buff artist bought two beers and brought him one.
“You look thirsty,” Vox said, offering the beer.
“And you look confused, why bring this to me?”
“You’ve been here all of ten minutes and haven’t gotten one, I figured you didn’t want to be recognized at the bar.”
Akuma took the beer, sighing, “Maybe a little, but everyone’s focused on the game, not a random guy.”
“You’re no random guy,” Vox said, smiling. If he tried any harder to flirt he might scare him off.
“Right, but I’d be fine with a random girl tonight. Look at that one, blonde, probably wouldn’t even recognize Johnny Depp if she saw him.”
“You really just want a bimbo?”
“Nah you’re right, what I want is another beer, keep em comin’,” Akuma laughed and quickly finished his glass.
An hour of ogling women and bringing Akuma beer and shots passed before he was sufficiently drunk. Vox hadn’t intended for the night to go this way, but now he had to make sure Akuma got home safely…eventually.
“C’mon, Akuma, you’re a bit drunk.”
“No I’m…not.”
“Let’s go home, man.”
“You don’t know where I live! Nobody does!” Akuma slurred.
“That’s ok, I know where I live. You can crash at my place.”
“Oh that’s a good idea…yeah…”
Now that the initial burst of adrenaline from meeting his idol had subsided, Vox’s mind was racing with all the possibilities. He thought of all the fantasies that would freak him out and make him never want to see his biggest fan again first. Those were the ones that would really get him in trouble. As he turned into his apartment building’s parking lot, he tweezed out most of the illegal parts until he was left with a foolproof plan to get Akuma hooked on him.
“Right this way, Mr. Akuma,” Vox said cordially. He led the drunk man into his apartment and guided him to sit on the couch.
“This isn’t my couch…” Akuma noticed, sinking deep into the busted cushions. “It sucks.”
“Yeah it’s mine, thanks.”
“Get a…new one.”
“Get another tattoo and maybe I will,” Vox retorted while pouring two glasses of water.
“I have a tattoo?!” Akuma urgently pulled off his shirt and looked down. “Wow!”
“Yeah it’s nice isn’t it? I did that.”
“With the shading and everything, wow that’s sick…thanks man.”
Why the hell was Akuma so cute when he was drunk? Change of plans.
Vox set the glasses of water on the coffee table and bit his lip looking at Akuma’s chest.
“Do you need anything? Restroom?”
“Oh fuck, yeah I could go for a piss,” Akuma agreed and stood up.
Vox led him down the hall and stood outside the door, listening. He felt like such a pervert, palming his crotch to the sound of another man’s stream. He wasn’t just any other man. His favorite actor was inside his apartment, drunk, and making a mess of his bathroom. Vox needed to get his hands on him now.
As soon as Akuma walked out, Vox made his move. He pulled him close and kissed him, not caring how he might react. He groped his bare waist and pushed him against the wall, moaning into his mouth.
“I think you’ve had…one too many, man…” Akuma slurred between gasps, “I’m…we…we’re both…”
Vox could taste the whiskey on Akuma’s lips and the pent up lust on his tongue. The haughty actor didn’t actually care that they were both men. And, given his track record, he sure as hell didn’t care that they’d only just met. Vox could do whatever he wanted to him tonight and Akuma would be in no place to object. He was a drunk slut in his arms, pressed against the wall and shaking from how badly he wanted his dick sucked. Vox was shaking for it too.
He kissed his smooth neck, tasting sweat and faded cologne. Vox lowered himself, kissing the skin next to the bandaged tattoo. He sucked dark marks into it, a passionate signature.
“Ah…shit…at least tell me your name!” Akuma hissed from the pain of a love bite.
“It’s Vox, say it for me while I go down on you.”
“Vox…”
Vox had pulled Akuma’s pants down and took in the sight of Akuma’s perfect cock. It was almost as big as his own, but easy enough to work with. He tongued the slit, wet with precum, and wrapped his lips around the head. After swirling his tongue around it for a bit, he took the length into his experienced throat and swallowed.
“Oh fuck,” Akuma moaned as Vox bobbed his head, and he tossed his own back to look at the ceiling and whichever god was beyond it.
Vox groaned around his cock, knowing how good he was making him feel. It was addicting, and he moved his hands from Akuma’s hips to unbutton his jeans. Once his thick cock was free, he stroked it with one hand and groped Akuma’s thigh with the other.
“God wait, slow down, you’re gonna make me cum,” Akuma warned in a soft voice.
“You want this to last then? Tell me,” Vox said huskily and licked his lips. The taste of cock on his tongue was saltier than usual after all those beers that had just flowed through it. He wanted to do so much with this man.
“G-go ahead, make me cum, Vox.”
Vox smiled and went down on him again, determined to make his idol cum. He wanted it all over his face, on his tongue and lips and chin, everywhere. He’d never want to wash his face again.
He got his wish moments later. Akuma came with a sound that he suddenly wished he’d recorded and made a mess of the man beneath him. Vox’s cum splattered against the wall and dripped onto the floor. Wanting to impress him, he stuck his tongue out for Akuma to see how much he was about to swallow.
“Fuck, I didn’t take you for such a slut. You’ve definitely done that before.”
“Only for men who look like my favorite actor. The real thing is…something else.”
Akuma ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed.
“Wow…I’m so tired…” he mumbled and stumbled back over to the couch where he flopped down. Vox was tired too. The clock in the living room showed it was just after 2am, but he had enough energy to fetch a blanket for Akuma at least.
Around noon, Vox woke up and touched his face. It wasn’t a dream.
He stood up and ran out into the living room. The blanket was still on the couch, but there was no other sign of Akuma. Maybe that was for the best. If he had to say ‘good morning’ to a guy who’s face was on the posters all over his wall he might have fainted. Maybe seeing those was the one thing that scared him off after everything last night.
Vox went back into his bedroom, put clothes on, and washed up, then he came out into the kitchen to get some food. The orange juice was gone. So that was one sign at least, but he would have preferred a note. What would that son of a bitch even say to him? Thanks for the blowjob, see you around xoxo?
Vox rolled his eyes and proceeded with his day. He arrived at work just in time, but his focus was definitely lacking. Images of Akuma’s slender torso kept flashing through his head every time a client took off their shirt. As he worked on someone’s calf, he realized he regretted not staying awake to appreciate more of Akuma’s body as he slept. Appreciate was a good word for it, right?
It was upsetting to think that Vox would never get a chance like that again. What were the odds he’d run into him again at the parlor looking for another tattoo? All he could hope was that he left a good enough impression to have Akuma thinking about him as much as he was. If he remembered it at all. Would he even have enough free time in his busy schedule to think about a fling with a tattoo artist?