BL ONESHOTS

(PoohPavel) Midnight at Tattoo Parlour 😌

The neon sign for Iron & Ink flickered precariously against the torrential Bangkok rain, casting rhythmic flashes of violet light over Pavel's face. He was slumped in his leather swivel chair, spinning a tattoo gun between his fingers with the practiced ease of a man who had seen everything and felt even less.

At 11:00 PM, the door chimed.

In walked a gust of wind, a spray of rain, and a guy who looked like he had lost his way to a Harvard alumni mixer. He was wearing a crisp, white button-down tucked into tailored slacks, looking entirely too "clean-cut" for a shop that smelled of green soap and bad decisions.

Pavel raised a pierced eyebrow. "We're closing, Nong. The library is two blocks down."

Pooh didn't flinch. He wiped a stray droplet of rain from his jaw, his eyes scanning the room with a terrifyingly calm intensity that didn't match his preppy attire. "I'm not here for books. I want a tattoo."

"A little star on your wrist? Or your mom's birthday in Roman numerals?" Pavel teased, leaning back. "You look like you'd faint at the sight of a sewing needle, let alone a three-round liner."

Pooh stepped into Pavel's personal space, looming over him. The height difference was immediate and, for Pavel, unexpectedly grounding. Pooh placed both hands on the arms of Pavel's chair, trapping him.

"I want 'Freedom,'" Pooh said, his voice a low, resonant rumble. "On my ribs. And I want it tonight."

---

Ten minutes later, the "Law Student" was shirtless, draped over the reclining bench. Pavel's internal monologue was a mess of 'don't look at the abs' and 'why is he so big?'. Pooh's physique was a direct contradiction to his polite face-broad shoulders, narrow waist, and a calm dominance that seemed to fill the small studio.