After a little longer Greg finishes, setting the gun on the table beside him.
“Fuck. Okay,” Ben says suddenly. “I swear I always block this part out. I’m so sorry.”
“What?” I look up, just as Greg sprays something on my skin and presses a towel over it.
It stings and burns. I gasp in agony as he pats the cloth against my sore skin.
“I am so sorry, but it’s over now. Only lasted a second.”
“I should’ve made it a dick!” I slap at his arm.
He laughs.
“Everyone hates that part,” Greg says, as he starts to wrap plastic around my ankle. “You can wear your sock and boot for the rest of the night but be sure to air it out. Ben will show you what lotion to put on it. Don’t use any soap or lotion with scent on it for like a month, okay?”
“Yeah.” I swing my leg over the side of the table. My ankle aches a little. I glance down to see Ben’s design inked into my skin, and it feels worth it.
Ben helps me up, taking my place. I walk back to the front area to put my shoes back on.
When I walk back over, Ben is lying on his stomach on the chair. His head rests on top, while his eyes are shut.
“Did you let him see it?” I ask as Greg sets up a new needle on his gun.
“Nope. He didn’t even ask to look at it, but this asshole never gives a shit what he puts on his body. He draws the dumbest shit and says put it on me. Though he has never gotten someone else’s art done before.”
“All your tattoos are your own art?”
“Yeah.” Ben shrugs.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” Ben’s lips twitch into a smile as Greg starts the gun, leaning over his body.
Ben relaxes as Greg moves the needle against his skin. In fact, I think he is more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him before. He almost always seems relaxed, though. Still his whole body flattens, and his head turns to the side. Peace stretches across his face, even as his eyes stay closed.
I wish I knew what he was thinking. How can getting poked repeatedly by a needle make him this serene?
My hand reaches to touch him after a bit. Just to see if he is still alive. He sighs as my fingertips brush his arm.
“Greg?” he speaks suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever given a tattoo to someone while they were having an orgasm?”
“No. Can’t say I have.” Greg laughs.
“Well then, politely tell this naughty girl to stop touching me before I cum on your table.”
I snatch my hand away, feeling my cheeks turn bright red.
“You cum on my table, you buy me a new one.” Greg shakes his head.
“That’s all?” Ben asks. “In that case, Prue, pleasedon’tstop touching me.” His eyes snap open to stare at me.
“You are such an asshole.” I cross my arms, rolling my eyes.
“You know that, so why does it continue to surprise you?”
