Worst birthday present ever - Aaron, Sawyer - PG
Summary: Aaron decides he wants a tattoo for his seventeenth birthday. Post-Island fic.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Slight Claire/Locke
Warnings: none
Note: I wanted to write something, but had no ideas so I went to the Lost Fanfic Idea Generatory. The 'idea' it spat out at me was Aaron and Sawyer with an optional object prompt of Tattoo. Hee, this is what happened. I am so sick.
“Oh no way kid,” Sawyer snarled, staring up at the glowing neon light that declared the shop in front of them a Tattoo parlour.
Aaron pouted at his companion, his soft, pink lips frowning downwards with a practiced ease. “C’mon James, you promised me that we’d do whatever I want for my seventeenth. This is what I want!”
Sawyer growled low in his throat and rolled his eyes at the teen, “Boy, what I meant is that I’d take you to a strip club, or buy you a round of beer at the pub. Not something permanent, or that your mom would ever know about.”
“But she doesn’t have to know!”
“But she will, goddammit,” Sawyer retorted, “and then she’ll tell your dad, and I do not need the two of them hunting me in my sleep. You do remember who your parents are right?”
It was Aaron who rolled his eyes this time, and he snorted loudly.
“Didn’t figure you to be such a wuss,” Aaron goaded, causing Sawyer to narrow his eyes menacingly at him.
“Fine then. But just remember, when I’m lying cold dead in my bed cos your pops has been cuttin’ on me, this was your idea,” Sawyer grumbled. Aaron smirked victoriously at the older man as they entered the tattoo parlour. “So boy, you got any idea of what you want?”
“I have a faint idea,” Aaron answered vaguely.
When the two men left the tattoo parlour an hour later, the elder was laughing loudly as the younger winced in pain.
“Boy, getting chopped to itty bitty pieces by daddy Locke is almost worth it knowing what’s inked on your backside right now,” Sawyer chuckled, wiping stray tears of laughter from his eyes. Aaron grimaced, silently wishing he hadn’t gone through with it, he didn’t know it’d hurt so bad!
“Yeah yeah,” Aaron groused, slapping Sawyer on the back to try and slow the Southerner’s laughter.
“I mean, who would’a thought you could get mama’s boy loves papa’s toys with a nice little knife on the side tattooed on your rear end anyways?” Sawyer chortled.
Aaron silently prayed to whatever god was listening that Sawyer wasn’t the type to reveal secrets when he was drunk and wondered how much tattoo removal cost. This was definitely the worst birthday present he’d ever gotten, including the year his mother made him a top out of the dead people’s scrap clothing back on the island.
Hmmm, maybe Jack could spare some time...