Come Sail Away Inbox

[midnightroads]

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Comments

[cacophonish]

Jeff smiles as Bash begins to sing-- well, half-sing. How can he not? It's one of his favorite sounds. He straddles Bash, getting in position to draw the little design on him, the thin, fine marker hovering just over skin, as Jeff tries to figure out where to start.

"I don't think I know that one," he muses. "Can you sing it for me?"

[midnightroads]

Best to do the singing before he starts drawing, right? Bash doesn't sing too loudly, not wanting to disturb the neighbors, but he does have all the lyrics (including the bit in French) memorized.

[cacophonish]

The lyrics are sweet, and hearing Bash sing has him feeling all warm and contented... Jeff can't stop smiling. He even hums along, as he gets the feel of the song.

"I like that one. You're gonna have to teach me sometime." Though not now, because once Bash finishes the song, Jeff leans down and begins drawing. It's simple linework, so it shouldn't take too long-- certainly not as long as a real tattoo-- but he wants to take his time and do it right. So he goes slow as he marks that first straight line of the lamp post, letting Bash savor each moment that felt drags along his skin

[midnightroads]

Bash closes his eyes, relaxing as he feels the marker trace across his skin, letting it and the sound of Jeff's breathing be all he's noticing in the moment. He is at peace, he is a canvas and nothing more than that.