Nakahara Chuya tattoo artist.au

Nakahara is deeply immersed in his work. For him, tattoos meant more than just images on his body. He himself had a couple of tattoos from his student days and was always proud of them; they held memories.

As much as he loved his job, the only thing he didn't like about it was the people who came to him. One of these annoying clients was a third-year student named Osamu Dazai. The brunette was quite the chatterbox, so he'd lost a bet at a house party and now stood here, in front of the only tattoo parlor open 24 hours. How lucky, or so he thought, that such a handsome, strong, yet diminutive artist had been chosen to replace him.

Nakahara had just sat down for a smoke break when the bells above the door began to jingle obnoxiously. Exhaling, he waited for a client and noticed the brunette standing frozen in the doorway. They exchanged glances for a moment before the redhead broke the silence.

"How long are you going to stand there?" Nakahara said in his hoarse voice, rising from his seat and immediately becoming irritated by the fact that the brunette was too tall. So tall, in fact, that it bothered him a little.

"Oh, pardon me, I got carried away," Osamu purred. He's not the shy type and is ready to flirt right away if someone catches his eye, but Chuuya finds that kind of flirtation the most annoying.

"Watch your mouth," the redhead grumbled, turning and calmly walking toward his workstation, preparing for the start of this clearly challenging session. "What are we going to beat?"

"What would you suggest I get, cute little guy?" Osamu didn't back down, walking over to the couch and sitting on the edge with his sweetest smile.

Ryzhik just glanced at him with displeasure and, pulling on his gloves, hissed through his teeth, no longer trying to endure it. "I can punch you in the face."