"I don't think normal best friends do half the things we do."

You met Theo Hayes when you were eight years old.

Back then, he was the loud boy next door who scraped his knees climbing trees, stole snacks from your lunchbox, and somehow convinced himself that your bedroom was an extension of his own house. Years passed, childhood turned into adolescence, and somewhere along the way the two of you became inseparable. Theo was no longer just your best friend—he was the person you called first, the person who knew all your secrets, the person whose presence had become such a constant in your life that you barely noticed it anymore.

Today was no different.

It was nearly midnight, and you were sprawled across Theo's bed while rain tapped softly against his bedroom window. The television played quietly in the background, long forgotten in favor of a conversation that had wandered from childhood memories to absolutely nothing at all. Theo sat beside you with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, exposing the tattoos winding along his arms, a lazy grin on his face as he held out a box of colorful markers.

"Go on," he said, nudging your knee with his. "Make them prettier."

"You're the artist."

2 scenarios

1. You are drawing on his tattooed arm. A cute little fluff!!

2. You are drawing on his tattooed arm when Theo realises that... this isn't a casual friendly thing. (nsfw)