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[Feels better like this - with Oliver straddling him, sitting on him like a cat that he can almost watch the tail of sweep side to side like it's still neither pleased nor displeased. (Maybe a little displeased, well earned.) He just - feels better gazing up at him, eyes briefly closing with a soft grunt when he feels the way Oliver grinds against him, and gently grinds back. His eyes are open again, the dark brown he always now shares with Oliver, and they remain on him while he speaks.

He did remember. That's - nice, in a way Theo's not used to. Doesn't know how to respond to genuinely. His eyes flick over Oliver's features for a moment, devoid of smarmy smiles and stupid little giddiness and then he wets his lips, taking in another deep breath. This is one of those moments that you're supposed to cherish and just knowing that sort of sets alarms off in his head, but they're muted and tolerable. He's more alarmed by the lack of a desire to run.]

I'll let you get away with being lazy just this once.

[And he'll think of something he actually wants, too.]

What am I getting? You're the artist. Share the vision.

I'm always lazy, and you always let me get away with it.

( the smile oliver shares is fond, not snarky, not full of sass. but he points it down to theo's hand, not his face, while he drops the tattoo machine down onto the blanket and reaches for his left hand. spreads his fingers, then pushes his little finger down to get it out of the way. left hand, ring finger. it'd be romantic maybe, if oliver wasn't using it as a means of possessing theo, not one to romance him. )

Keep it like this. ( pressed to oliver's chest where he puts it, just before dropping it so he can reach for the tattoo machine again and take the lid off the container. ) I fucked with the make up of black obsidian for this. The ink's like mine--just a little less refined.

( raising his own left hand to wiggle his fingers, showing off the lines adorning the back of his hand, up his middle and ring fingers, curling just around the edge of the little one. )

You'll have to trust me on the design.

I trust you.

[He says after a beat, letting Oliver's words sit in the air before he answers them in a soft, barely there tone of voice. His eyes are glued to him, looking over the marks of his hand and following those lines to the machine in his hand - breathing in deep, and doing as he's told by holding his hand the way Oliver's instructed him to. Then he just lolls his head back and appears quite at ease.]

I wish I could do what you do.

I wish I could do what you can.

( healing, for starters. human bodies are complex, and while oliver can, at times, shock others' nervous systems enough to cause them to stop, he can't do jack shit about fixing what's broken on them. container uncapped, oliver puts it in theo's free hand to make sure it stays upright. dips the needle on the tattoo machine in it, and uses the hand not holding onto the machine to readjust theo's hand, turning it over so he can reach the outside of his ring finger without having to angle the tattoo machine awkwardly. because fucking up lines would suck. )

[Theo could say 'I'll teach you if you teach me' but that's always sort of implied between them now - the sharing, of items and people as well as a shared existence between the two of them. Maybe they can't learn everything one another can do but they can do it for each other, which is close enough, so he just stays quiet. Holds his hand where it needs to be held, letting Oliver work but also just doing his usual admiration of him close up. He ends up smiling.]

I also wish I could watch you work forever.

I feel like this is getting significantly more common.

( idly, as oliver presses the needle to theo's skin and starts drawing a very small, very thin line. makes a sharp curve with it as he starts on his design, thumb pressing between theo's ring and middle fingers to help put a bit of pressure on it, to make sure his hand stays still. )

I like, I wish--the I statements are a good look on you.

Edited 2022-12-28 05:46 (UTC)

As good as the tat?

[It doesn't hurt in any way he can't easily endure, but he feels the sting of it - kind of likes it, in honesty, even if it does get a little annoying so close to the bone. He knows he's got a little bit of a way to go when it comes with asserting himself, so:]

I want to fuck you then, too. After you're done and you've opened your gift.

Does it feel a little off fucking your own face? Or have you gotten used to it by now.

( idle questions, while oliver fills in the little space necessary to fill in the bolt--and releases theo's hand. offers the tattoo machine over to theo before shifting his weight back to sit on theo's thighs instead. gives him a little space so he can sit up if needed. )

Your turn. Copy mine exactly, on my hand. Same finger, same hand, same spot.

It has yet to get old.

[He says - without admitting that sometimes it doesn't feel anything like that, because he now so closely associates Oliver with his features rather than himself. He lifts his head up a little and looks at his hand after it's released, pushing up on his elbow and stretching to sit the rest of the way up soon after. Hand on the machine, other hand still being looked over before it's planted on Oliver's thigh, he smiles at him. Charmed that they are about to match.]

Adding another layer to the twin kink. I like that, too.

[But he lifts the machine up, spending a moment looking it over before he's taking Oliver's hand; mimicking his earlier motions to angle it just right to make a canvas out of it. He's not worried about the artistic part, simply doesn't want to fuck it up. So he takes a moment before he'll get to it.]

It's a spell.

( easy and simple as that. oliver lets theo manipulate him as he sees fit; when theo's ready to ink him up, he'll find the tattoo machine turning back on just as it approaches oliver's skin. )

Closest thing to spelling people as I can get. Think of it like a mood ring. If I'm angry, it'll flare hot. Sad? Cold. Content is just--barely over skin temperature. It goes both ways.

( acts as an early warning system, too, if one of them gets pulled elsewhere where magic doesn't work. or if they disappear. or in case any other bad thing happens. )

If you touch yours, I'll be able to feel that, too. Wherever I am. Like a little bit of pressure against where the tattoo is.

[Theo smiles - he's more attuned to Oliver than he knew, because the gift he made has a very similar vein to it. So much so he wants to knock it off the bed to be forgotten about to let Oliver have this spotlight - but they can figure that much out later, when he's not catching his tongue between his lips and concentrating on perfecting a matching symbol on Oliver's finger. He does a good job for someone who doesn't handle tattoo guns by trade, though he has the stupidest impulse to lick the spot soon after. Thankfully, he holds himself back.]

I tried something similar- but ah, that look good?

[He's admiring his own linework.]

I know it looks good. Not really asking, but...

( he misses nick's bedside machine, the idiotic way he'd grab ink from wherever and just start stabbing himself with a needle to draw whatever lame shit he decided was cool in the moment. but this has it's own value, too. theo works well with his hands, and oliver likes to watch. watches here, too, when he works over oliver's hand. )

Looks good enough. ( no need to let theo get in his head about it. the not-ink smudges a bit--the bit of it that opts not to embed itself into his skin, but it's whatever.

he'll finish the spell in a moment, but first: )

You want to leave another mark on me while we're at it? Free reign to go for wherever, long as it isn't my face and isn't something stupid. Consider it a birthday gift.

[The people pleasing part of Theo, the part that doesn't have confidence in himself and who would much rather just ask Oliver if he wants something else rather than putting the decision in his hands. But he feels oddly comfortable in thinking it over, looking down at Oliver's hand before gently rubbing his thumb over the mark he just left. He uses his light grip of his palm to tilt his hand over, examining it before furrowing his brow.]

If I fuck this up, I'll fix it later.

[So much confidence, amirite? He'll make it right though - maybe have to ask Ragnor for pointers if he gets frustrated with not being able to craft something the way he wants to, but he still wants to give it a try. He places Oliver's hand down so it rests flat, murmuring 'hold still' while closing his eyes and focusing hard on his own aspect of this. He'll eventually start drawing one solid band in surprisingly straight free-hand, arcing it around his wrist before adding in a second colliding line consisting of dots. They're the hard part.

The ink for the dots feels hot, imbued with something - another part of Theo, dripped into the sway of the gun. It doesn't cool so much as it feels like menthol afterward, fading away as he works. Each dot represents a pulse of his minty magic, leaky and not perfectly executed but it's still effective.]

It's to keep you safe. Against little things.

( when he offered theo skin, he expected him to pull the shit that oliver and nick have done to each other: left little marks to stake their claim, to match, to just dick around for a bit of time. he wasn't anticipating theo to push his own magic into it. oliver probably should have specified first--that it's not normal ink, that between the platinum, obsidian, and turquoise he used, the ink itself is never going to forget theo's magic. that's the problem with using stone: it rarely forgets, and when it does, it takes forever and a half.

but oliver's not complaining. )

Didn't feel like writing "Theo was here" in all caps on my ass? Boring.

( but he waits--for theo to finish, for him to move the tattoo gun off to the side where it's not going to stab oliver in the arm when he leans into theo and presses a kiss against his cheek bone, just below the outside corner of his eye. )

Show me what you got me.

I'll save that for next time.

[Maybe he'll paint it across both cheeks the next time he pulls out the acrylics to use Oliver as a canvas - or just get lazy and use a sharpie to stake claim. His eyes close when he's kissed on the cheek and they stay that way for a long beat, even after Oliver's spoken. His gift feels less important now in the wake of cloning Oliver's tattoo and receiving his half of their own set. But he heaves a breath and opens his eyes, rolling them to the side. Flaps one arm in the direction of the gift.]

I want to keep working on it, it's - I'm not great at refining my craft like you are. I don't know how to do half of it because I was never taught, never... had anyone else to learn from like I do here. But I just... I get this feeling like I could improve it with time now that I have people, so keep it in mind. And if you hate it, just throw it in the closet.

[It'll get repurposed either way.]

( he'd roll his eyes at theo talking himself down, but theo just did, so now it'd just look excessive. before he reaches over, oliver grabs onto theo's newly tattooed hand, presses his thumb against the ink to smear some of it against the tip of his thumb and--smears it against his own new ink. be real stupid not to finish the charm this late into the game.

and then he releases theo, to reach over towards the box. )

I'm not great at shit. Like, back home? I'm probably the worst witch I know. ( the nick here was untrained but strong--nick back home has learned how to use his talents properly. and pierce has always been great with his own magic. they're not like, the only witches oliver knows, but most his classmates had an easier time accessing magic than oliver did. nick is a powerhouse, oliver relies on using small amounts of magic spread over time to finish shit. or at least he did, before ragnor decided to boost him. ) I use notes for most shit here, because while I didn't give a shit about learning anything I figured some of it would be useful eventually. I'll show you the kindle app and saved images on my phone later--I've got a whole folder in my gallery full of pics of random text books, and ninety percent of the shit on my kindle app is saved texts from Pierce's library or school.

( arriving with his personal phone was handy. oliver's glad he hadn't arrived with something stupid--like one of pierce's pretentious novels or the old gamecube he kept at nick's place. he rips off the paper on the box easily enough, shoves a cookie into his mouth because oliver's never going to not shove sugar down his throat the moment it's offered to him.

and then reaches for the locket, thumb rubbing over the outside of it before he's pulling it open. )

It's sturdy, which's important with charms. ( a compliment first, before he's dragging his thumb over that inklike substance. ) Feels like you, just--angrier. What's it for?

[Theo will circle back to notes and witchcraft - he's intently interested and he'll still choose to believe Oliver is much more talented than he'll give himself credit for, much like it is in reverse, but for now he's just watching Oliver look over the locket. Still feeling that... unsatisfied feeling as he gazes at what he made. Maybe this is how Willem felt more often than not, when magic was concerned. Knowing you could do better, greater things but having to start at gravel grazing levels, unattuned to it or held back. Theo wets his lips before answering:]

You gave me...

[He touches his fingers to his navel, thinking of the piercing that Oliver concocted to be a bit of a safety alarm. It's then he notices his fingertips are ashy, nail tips black but fading, and rubs his fingers together before dropping his hand to rest at his side.]

And it's like that, but more manual. You need me or want me to check in, just touch it. It'll share it like a nudge. I - am going to work on refining it like I said. But that's one of the first things I've ever made for someone else. Keep working on it with me?

( it feels a little closer to willem's magic than the magic he's gotten used to coming off of theo. oliver would be a little more worried about that, except. theo isn't willem, and any similarities are probably just because they come from the same side of the multiverse. theo's hand moves to his stomach, and oliver's eyes follow it before shifting back to the locket in hand. rubs his thumb over the inside of it once more, before he's closing the locket and raising the chain up to put it around his neck. he's not going to snark about poor workmanship, or the quality of theo's magic, or whatever. partially because it is fine, and partially because theo's self confidence with making charms is clearly shit, and oliver doesn't intend to make it any worse.

leans in close to theo once more after, so he can place a kiss against the corner of his lips this time. )

I like it just how it is. But if you want to work on it more later, we can.

Mmh.

[Theo likes the idea of working together - feels like a safe plan, a safe feeling to plan for. He looks Oliver over after he's put the locket around his neck and he... can see a thousand versions of himself all at once, all thanks to the face they share(d). He reaches to touch the chain, fingers skimming over where it rests against Oliver's skin before he's caressing up his neck soon after, and down his jaw. He chases one kiss with another, lingering lip to lip.]

I would be a lesser person without you around.

( it's cute, how soft theo is. how oliver wearing a chain around his neck gets this much affection out of him---because theo likes seeing oliver wear his things. it's the same reason why oliver doesn't mind wearing collars: the sometimes possessive look his dominants get in their eyes when they see it on him, how much they like it. not because oliver likes being owned.

but because he likes people going weak for him. he likes that theo, too, wears pieces oliver has made for him. the ink in his skin, the piercing in his navel. the marks oliver likes to leave on him. ones he'll leave more of now, as he dips his head down to start nipping at theo's jaw, just because he likes to see the red left behind. )

I know. I'm your favorite.

[Theo relaxes into that, hand combing through Oliver's curls and he purrs a little - not unlike one of their stupid cats. He feels happy now, truly happy, and it's one of those rare but fleeting feelings so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts. He's started to really fear good things (see: Oliver) being ripped away from him much like people are ripped away from others here, just as soon as they get close. He lets him do what he wants to his neck and jaw, and laughs lightly:]

I call big spoon tonight, after the inevitable fucking.

( he'd tell theo how much of a little spoon he is, especially given how mushy he is for compliments, but oliver figures that there's no need to ruin the moment. oliver presses a hand to theo's shoulder, and leans back. looks him in the eye.

well. not ruin the moment for that moment, but this is clearly a whole new one that obviously deserves being ruined. soft squishy bullshit is only good in small quantities, and they've had enough of it for today. )

Who said we were going to fuck tonight?

Don't break my heart, now.

[He's laughing again, though. Reaching up to gently nudge Oliver on the cheek.]

Why wouldn't we fuck. Honestly.

Just to spite you.

( with a grin, before he's pulling himself up to his feet. )

Want to go play in Ragnor's room?

You never have to ask, I'll always say yes to that.

[Ragnor, be prepared.]

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