Elliot had forgotten.
Hale had seen the tattoos on his forearms that day in medical—noticed them, clearly—but he hadn’t seen the rest. In the shelter, they’d kept their shirts on. Now, under bright fluorescent lights with no clothes to cover up, there was no hiding them.
Intricate patterns flowed from Elliot’s wrists, past his elbows and all the way up over his shoulders. More ink spread across his back, down his spine, complex designs that had taken years and more pain than Elliot cared to remember.
They were beautiful; Elliot knew that objectively. Hidden under uniforms and strategically managed to never show in official settings. They were also deeply, irrevocably personal. Each piece deliberate. A reminder that some parts of himself belonged only to him, not his father, not the military.
And now Hale was staring at all of it.
Elliot turned off the water and faced him slowly, meeting Hale’s eyes across the space between them.
Hale seemed lost. His eyes wide, tracking over Elliot's arms, his shoulders, the visible edge of ink disappearing below his hips. His mouth hung open, breath fast and ragged.
"Hale," Elliot said, voice flat.
He blinked, dragging his gaze up to Elliot's face. "I didn't—I thought you'd be done by now."
"Clearly I’m not."
"Yeah. No. I can see that."
The silence stretched. Hale didn't move. Didn't look away. Just stood there in his PT gear, face flushed, staring at Elliot like he'd never seen him before.
Elliot felt it instantly. The pull. The same reckless want that got him into trouble a week ago.
He needed to maintain some distance between them. "You should go.”
"Yeah." Hale’s voice came out rough. "Probably."
He didn't move.
Elliot reached for a towel and wrapped it around his hips. "Hale?—"
"When did you get them? The tattoos."
"Why?"
Hale took a step closer, then seemed to catch himself. "I've never seen anyone with that much ink."
"I didn’t get them for show."
"Right." Hale swallowed. "They're... wow."
Elliot's hands tightened on the towel. He wasn't doing this again. Not here where anyone could walk in. Not when Hale had made his position very clear.
He turned away. "You need to leave."
"Shaw—"
"I mean it. Get out."
Hale hesitated. Elliot heard him take one step, then another. The door opened. Then closed.
Elliot let out a deep breath.Tant mieux.So much the better.
Then he heard the lock click.
Elliot turned around. Hale had his back against the door, chest heaving, looking at Elliot like he wanted to either punch him or kiss him and hadn't decided which yet.
