A/N: I wrote this on tumblr a year and a half ago but neglected to post it here. Yep.

Gaara & Hinata, Tattoo Parlor

(requested by askyuu.)

A woman walked into the parlor, looking uncertain, and extremely out of place. She eyed the pictures, the leather, and the sketches littering the walls. Her face was too meek; too innocent for a place like this. She also seemed a little drunk, judging by the way she stumbled as she walked around. She was wearing a strapless lavender dress that hugged her torso then loosened as it descended to the knees. She was barefoot, empty-handed, and Gaara could only assume she had wandered over from the sorority house next door.

"I w-want a tattoo," she said, with a fallacious conviction in her voice. "A heart with my boyfriend's name in it."

Gaara nodded, humoring her, though he could not imagine she had any cash on her. "What is his name?" He was dressed in jeans and a rust-colored long-sleeved shirt. The girl did not seem to mind his facial tattoos – the rings around his eyes, and the character above his left eye.

"Sasuke. It's spelled-"

"Yes, I know. S-A-S-K-A-Y."

"N-no." She reddened, and it was strange how flustered she had gotten all the sudden. "S-A-S-U-K-E."

"Hn."

"Can you spell it back to me?"

"S-A-S-K-"

"U!" she said, getting increasingly flushed. "It's a U, then a K."

"Hn."

"M-maybe this was a b-bad idea." The girl began to edge back to the door.

"Sit down," said Gaara flatly.

She froze, and obeyed him, as people always did. He was not sure why.

"Where do you want it?" he said.

"I'm u-undecided." She stared at her knees.

Gaara observed her for a while. "Have you done it yet?"

She lifted her face. "Done what?"

"Have you had sex with him?"

The flush returned. "W-what does that h-have to do with this?"

"It has everything to do with this."

Biting her lip, the girl averted her eyes, until there was a very slight, nearly-imperceptible shake of her head. Gaara mused for a moment.

"Lower abdomen."

She gave him a quizzical look.

"Above your…" He trailed off, and she reddened. "He'll like it."

It did not take a lot of convincing. Hinata – her name was – had a passive personality, and she seemed bent on getting the tattoo, regardless of where it was. It was an odd determination to have. Gaara wondered if she was trying to prove something to this Saskay. It was a strange way of going about it – this tipsy, reluctant, love-profession.

She lay back on his table, and as he pulled up her dress, she squeezed her eyes closed, as though she did not want to think about what was going on. He pulled her panties down far enough to place the tattoo, but not so far that he could see the parts of her she was bestowing on some guy. She had an athletic body, but not too athletic. She had feminine curves to match her feminine face; a very aesthetic body that warranted an aesthetic tattoo.

He did a gothic heart, starting with the base of a small tree, limbs and vines ascending in a beautiful artistic tangle, before coming together again, crossing slightly, to create an asymmetrical heart. The name was done in lucida blacklett writing with his own creative signature subtly instilled in the curve of the "A" and the loop of the "G." He did the whole thing from scratch, and surmised it to be his best work yet.

When Gaara finished, he cleaned the area off, and gave her the same monotonous maintenance instructions he gave everyone else. Eyes still teary from the process, she could hardly wait to see it, hopping down and going to the mirror, holding up her dress – then all at once, the excitement vanished. Her jaw dropped, and her big eyes stared in shock at what was written in the heart.

Gaara.

"T-this isn't my t-tattoo!" She stammered, turning to him, her cheeks red.

"Yes it is. I just made it."

"It s-says G-gaara!"

"I am Gaara."

"B-but – it's – it's supposed to s-say Sasuke."

"I am not Saskay."

"But you're not my boyfriend!" she snapped.

He glared at her, as though there was something wrong with this statement. Shuddering, Hinata fumbled to fix her clothes. "I c-can't let him see this."

"You can't," Gaara noted in agreement, and then there was a moment in which Hinata stared at him in shock and comprehension.

"Y-you're mean," she said, so weakly and pathetically, it was almost endearing. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the parlor as Gaara glanced at the tattoo gun in his hand.

"Mean?" he mused, as he lowered his gun. "Mean." He nodded to himself, removing his gloves and tidying up.