Three Sentence Ficathon

Ed had imagined quite a few possible responses Stede might give to the suggestion of Ed being the one to give Stede his first tattoo, including but not limited to, "Oh, darling, I'd love that," and, "Certainly, but I think I need to ravish you first," and, "Yes, but not until we've picked the absolutely perfect design and the perfect place to put it, which might take weeks of careful exploration of every inch of my skin, preferably with your mouth," but as was was so often the case, Stede's actual response didn't match any of the several dozen on Ed's mental list, instead being a distracted but very final sounding, "I'm sorry, dear, but you can't," without even looking up from the book he was reading, which brought Ed up short more quickly than a slap in the face would have.

"Forget I said anything, was a stupid idea anyway," Ed muttered, drawing away, and somehow that was enough to catch Stede's full attention.

"Oh, Ed, I only meant that I already have a first tattoo," Stede said, catching Ed by the hand and twining their fingers together, "but I would be honored if you'd give me my second."