says he's in love with my body, that's why he's fucking it up

[generationlost]

This is probably one of the dumber decisions Ranboo's made in the short span of them having gained freedom... but it's their dumb decision to make, and that fact alone makes it much easier to accept having just made it in the first place. Taking this body as their own finally, laying claim to what Showfall stole from them who knows how long ago.

They're sitting on the couch, their arm propped on the couch's arm, gazing nervously at Dirk as he prepares the equipment.

"This is... like. Sterile, right?"

The pale skin of their inner forearm is marked out in faint blue pen, the sketch design of the long-bladed katana Dirk chose to mark them with catching the light as they shift nervously.

A tattoo is forever. In theory, anyway. And it was a deliberate choice for them to mark their body in such a permanent way... but it isn't just chance or coincidence that Dirk is the one choosing what to mark them with, the one holding the tattoo gun in his hands. Not that Ranboo really has many other choices when it comes to tattoo artists, but they still would've chosen Dirk to at least design the marking, to decide what it was that would be etched into their skin forever.

It just makes sense. Who else?

Ranboo themselves wouldn't even know where to begin with choosing a design, anyway. Though a katana is a little bit lame for a white guy to get a tattoo of, they would never tell Dirk that. Honestly, the choice is obvious despite that, given... Dirk, in general.

Comments

[themostempty]

If Dirk only knew what Ranboo was thinking--

Well, actually, for once, it wouldn't bother him at all. He'd be a little surprised to learn that this kind of work doesn't gel seamlessly with the rest of his persona, but he would find it flattering that Ranboo noticed it at all. The care and precision of his artistic leanings is something that shares mental space with his obsessiveness, but it's also deeply sincere. Possibly the most sincere he can manage to be.

And if his art is truly his, then working on Ranboo makes both the art and the canvas his as well.

He isn't thinking about what Ranboo is thinking, though. Not until they wince, the muscle and skin underneath his hands almost tensing--like the body itself attempts to pause--and then he looks up, just in time to catch that release of breath, that toothy, corny grin.

Something about their reaction is so... human, so unusual and so not part of his own self that it catches him off guard. In a good way. Like there's someone else in the world, and he is connected to them. In this brief moment, they're together, and it's good and it's real.

He snorts softly--a gentle huff that's almost a laugh.

"Oh, it hurts, huh?" He's teasing, but it's not necessarily a nice joke. Even knowing he can take it better than most people, he can't imagine finding a tattoo that painful, even one in such a supposedly sensitive location--maybe if it were a dick tattoo, or something. At least Ranboo is sucking it up. They're even doing a mostly passable job. Noisy, but they aren't flinching or twitching or tensing to fuck up Dirk's work. And no tears. He knows Ranboo is a crier.

It's this train of thought that leads him to the idea. The thought that maybe he can fix some of that--maybe teach Ranboo a little, help them get past simply enduring pain, and start them on the path to enjoying it. That would open a lot of doors--

And the sound of Ranboo's pain is starting to work its way into Dirk's brain. He wants to hear that hiss, followed by a moan.

He shifts his position, ostensibly making it easier to reach the full length of Ranboo's inner arm--but as he starts back up on thhe ink, he leans one leg in, pressing against the length of his boyfriend's cock, just inside their thigh.