Chapter Text
namjoon decides that they want a big ass dragon on their back. jungkook says: you're so fucking badass. for your first tattoo? this is the best thing i've heard. and namjoon becomes a few centimeters taller.
they sit together at namjoon’s desk, jungkook's sketch pad in front of them, torn and crumpled pages around them like debris after an explosion, coloured pens everywhere.
namjoon: why can't you just surprise me? just make something, i'm sure you have a better eye for this than me.
jungkook: i mean, i could. but i don't want to. i much more like the idea of you surprising me.
the dragon’s head is decided to be on namjoon’s left shoulder blade, throwing fire that comes out on their shoulder and upper arm. jungkook has a huge amount of coloured ink that they want namjoon to look at all the time, but namjoon just sees orange.
jungkook: the thing is. it's hard to draw a tattoo this big two dimensionally and imagine how it will move with your body,
namjoon: what do you mean move with my body
and jungkook rolls up their sleeve to show the tattoos there, while moving around their arm, saying: see? even the small movements make your skin move a lot. even the skin you wouldn't imagine stretches quite visibly once you're inked.
namjoon: this one is really cool wow. when did you make it?
jungkook: hey, focus.
jungkook: anyway. i was thinking the fire might be easier to freehand. i will still follow the design stylistically, but maybe draw the flames directly on your body instead, to see what parts of your arm and shoulder you want to be on fire.
they both smile at the expression. jungkook looks like he planned it well.
and then, when they finish at the dinner table one day, jungkook says, gleaming eyes: do you want to start tattooing?
jimin: omg you finally made something!
namjoon: aren’t you tired?
jungkook: oh come on, you know i’m an owl, i woke up like four hours ago. we could at least go until ten or until someone thinks the machine is too loud. i think we’ll be able to do all the big line work, if you want to.
namjoon smiles because it just got realer, and then says: okay let's fucking go.
walking from their room to jungkook’s, namjoon suddenly feels shy and very aware of their body, to be perceived in just a little time.
they stop on the threshold, looking at the cushions on the table serving as a tattoo bed, jungkook cooler than ever as he’s wrapping his equipment in plastic film. it’s a little mesmerizing, to see him in action.
jungkook: why are you standing there? come in.
he doesn’t turn around, which means he’s been aware of namjoon’s presence for several seconds. they take a few hesitant steps.
jungkook: i made this.
and he points to the dragon laying on the table next to them, a thin, sheer paper with thick blue lines.
jungkook: it’s a stencil. in case you didn’t know
namjoon: cool. i did know. i’m sorry.
jungkook: oh no, no worries. are you nervous?
namjoon: about the tattoo? not as in i’m doubting if i want to do it, not at all.
jungkook squints their eyes, trying to see on their face what namjoon wants to say.
jungkook: but as..?
namjoon: i don’t know, the situation maybe? i don’t know how to behave and this … you’re so comfortable … you can tell me what to do if you think i’m weird.
jungkook shakes his head: not at all. take your time. we can talk as little or as much as we want. we can put on music. we can drink tea. tell me what you need.
namjoon: oh, can i show you an album?
so now chumbawamba’s anarchy is playing and namjoon doesn't know if it's a vibe or not.
namjoon: jungkook? can you just tell me when to take off my shirt? i'm mega overthinking over here, about whether i will do it too soon or not understand when it's time.
jungkook: sure. i will just try placing the stencil on your back soon. and then you can look in the mirror and move around and we'll take hundreds of pictures and change it as many times as you want before we make anything permanent, is that okay? i think i'm ready with everything, so whenever you're ready you can take off your shirt.
namjoon takes it off and a soft gasp stays behind jungkook's closed lips.
jungkook: so first i'm gonna wash your skin.
there is soap water in a bottle wrapped in plastic film and then disinfectant in a bottle wrapped in plastic film. everything is wrapped in plastic film.
jungkook: this is transfer cream to make the stencil stick to your skin.
jungkook's hands are warm. they're big and soft and everywhere on namjoon's back, first with the transfer cream and then with the stencil, feather light, smoothing it out, carefully, carefully
jungkook: this is by far the biggest tattoo i've ever made.
and then he presses the stencil against their back,
namjoon's muscles flexing to push back and not lose balance, feeling them shift under jungkook's hands,
the hands which are everywhere.
jungkook: let's try peeling it off now.
every sensation is new and surprising, even the peeling gives namjoon shivers.
namjoon: does it have to dry before i move or anything?
jungkook: nah, you should be good if your don't bump into things. you can look in the mirror first and then i can take pictures of your back?
on namjoon's shoulder blade are the contours of the dragon that jungkook drew. the blue lines from the stencil, waiting to become permanent under jungkook’s needles.
there's a pen in jungkook’s hands, because there always is. he lays a hand on namjoon's shoulder to keep it still, pen in the other hand hovering centimeters above their skin. he asks how big the flames should be, in what direction, on the upper arm? the neck, the shoulder? he’s sketching quickly, explaining his thoughts as he goes. it’s just a guide for him to follow with the machine, he says, so don’t mind if it looks a little messy right now. and he can do it in whatever colors namjoon wants, they don’t have to fill it in today if namjoon would rather think about it a little more.
jungkook takes pictures of namjoon's back. hundreds of them, like promised. he says he can move the stencil, that it’s no trouble at all, that this is a huge decision, but namjoon feels safe in his hands.
namjoon: it’s perfect.
jungkook: you’re so fucking badass. i’m not getting over this.
namjoon: you’re the one who made it.
jungkook: true. but you’re the one who will carry it. can you make one on my back too?
there’s laughter and a little tension and namjoon almost forgets that it’s time.
and then it’s time and namjoon is laying on their stomach and jungkook is sitting hunched over their back and the lights are really bright and the machine is loud and namjoon thinks about art and not needles, how cool jungkook is and not blood, and they think: this is it, no looking back, but they don’t want to look back they just feel like they should and like this moment, the last without ink on their body should matter more but it doesn’t and they’ve wanted a tattoo for so long and every square centimeter of their skin knows that it’s right that jungkook is the one to make it.
jungkook: i will make a small line first, here on your shoulder, and i will ask you how it feels, okay?
he's touching the spot where he will start. smears something warm and thick on it.
namjoon: okay.
they take a deep breath in.
jungkook turns on the machine.
the buzzing of it intensifies right before it comes down on their skin.
it feels like a scratch and a knife and then it's over.
jungkook: how was that?
namjoon: not as bad as i’d thought.
jungkook: good. and then just tell me whenever you need a break or if you want to stop for today. i tend to lose track of time so i trust you to keep it. okay?
namjoon: okay.
jungkook: okay let's go. hehe!
the next line is longer. the one after that even longer. they hurt more than the first one did, but it's bearable. jungkook dries off ink with a paper towel and very soon namjoon's skin feels hot and thick but jungkook is calm and safe and asks if namjoon is okay. the meaning of okay shifts all the time, as namjoon fifteen minutes ago wouldn't call this kind of pain okay. but they want a dragon on their back and so, the pain is okay.
it's accompanied by so much care, admiration and praise that the meaning of pain also shifts. it’s pain intertwined with steady hands everywhere, with jungkook’s art, his compliments, namjoon’s confidence when jungkook says they are badass. namjoon forgets what pain means.
jungkook tells them about their first tattoo and their first self made disaster of a tattoo. about ways to be at home in your body and queer people saving each other.
jungkook: how can we take care of each other if we can't take care of ourselves?
namjoon: isn't it a way to connect our bodies to each other? not that only queer people have tattoos, but that the people who know, they know, you know?
jungkook: yeah. i started getting tattoos around the time i realised i was queer. in hindsight, i would say it was fundamental to my mental health at that time. after that, it became more of a hobby and now that i make tattoos myself, i'm thinking: if i can give back to someone what other people gave to me at a crucial point in my life, isn't that beautiful?
namjoon: fuck. armpit hurts.
jungkook: i know i know, i’m sorry. i have very little left right here and then we can take a break if you want.
namjoon: fuckfuckfuck
jungkook: hang in there
namjoon: sweet mother of god
jungkook: the album ended a while ago. should we put on something else?
namjoon: if you want. but i like the quiet too.
jungkook: it’s nice. but the machine is not really quiet.
namjoon: you should pick an album this time.
jungkook: what about solange?
and the time comes when hobi wants to go to bed and they have to stop, and namjoon's back is flaming red and they're waddling back to their room wrapped in plastic film and with orders to sleep on their stomach. namjoon hates sleeping on their stomach.
jungkook: that was so fun. can't wait to start colour it in. you're so badass.
namjoon: you're pretty badass too.