"Are you jerking off?" Ray called when the sound of Frank moaning came filtering out from underneath the bathroom door and the noise of the shower running. "You better not be jerking off, Frank, we all have to shower in there."
"I don't need to jerk off," Frank called back. "I think I'm going to spontaneously orgasm just from the sensation of soap and hot water."
Ray turned indignantly to Mikey, like he could do something about it. Mikey waved his hand. "He loves to shower, dude, what can I say?"
"Ugh." Ray went back to sorting the laundry.
Mikey stretched all his limbs out as far as he could, trying to get his hands and feet to touch the corners of the bed. Craig had offered to put them up in a hotel, but Gerard was still being weird about the money thing and bargained Brian down to the motel room. Mikey didn't care. It was a nice motel; clean and comfortable, and they all slept together every night in the van so sharing wasn't a problem. It was just so cool to be lying on an actual bed.
"We are going to need a million bucks in quarters," Ray grumbled, poking a pair of boxers into the 'Really really dirty' pile with his toe. "It'd probably be cheaper to buy new clothes."
Mikey reached up and bashed the pillow a little, settling it into the right shape under his head. "You know, I don't actually know where Gerard buys his clothes? Like, his clerics? I mean, where do you get a priest collar from?"
Ray looked up, a pair of Bob's socks held gingerly between one thumb and forefinger. "Huh. You think the Vatican provides them?"
"I don't know," Mikey shrugged. "I guess? It's not like he can just roll into Wal-Mart."
"Which is a shame, because his collars seriously haven't been white for like six months." Ray finished with the dirty clothes and came over to sit on the bed. His weight made the mattress dip and Mikey rolled towards him; Ray put a steadying hand on his hip. "You know, since we had to harvest that fungus?"
Mikey shuddered. "That shit was so gross."
"Agreed. And we'll have to do it again, soon, I'm running out," Ray said dolefully.
"You think this one's gonna be easy?" Mikey shifted onto his back again, and Ray's hand rested on his belly. "Haunted air conditioning, not exactly the stuff of epic heroics."
Ray laughed, and patted Mikey's stomach twice. "Guess we'll find out when they get back."
Brian had taken Gerard and Bob to Craig's place to do recon, after making Craig pay them half the fee in cash, upfront. Gerard had made a pained face the whole time. Mikey was actually impressed anybody could hold an expression for that long.
On cue, there was a knock on the door.
"Speak of the devil," said Ray, and got up to let the guys in.
"Hey!" Brian walked into the room, holding a giant grocery bag in his arms. "We brought food!"
"We brought cigarettes," Bob added, following him in.
"We brought coffee," Gerard said gleefully, bringing the cardboard tray straight over to the bed. "Mikey, Mikey, check it out."
Mikey sat up and took the cup Gerard gave him carefully, prizing the top off for maximum inhalation impact. It smelled sweet and hot and fresh and when Mikey took a sip, the flavor spread over his tongue and down his throat and it was seriously the best thing in the world.
"Mmm," he said.
"I know," Gerard cooed over his own cup. "It's so good."
"Okay," Frank yelled from the bathroom. "Now I'm jerking off!"
Gerard's eyes flew wide, and he looked uncertainly at Mikey, and then at Ray. "Uh."
Bob looked totally unperturbed, he just banged on the bathroom door and said, "You better rinse that shit away, motherfucker."
When Mikey came out after taking his own shower, Bob was sitting backwards in a chair, his arms folded over the back of it, head bowed. Frank was standing behind him wearing gloves and fiddling with Bob's tattoo gun. He waved it at Mikey when he saw him.
"Check it out," he said, grinning. "Bob's virgin skin is about to be well and truly debauched."
"I'm going to regret this," Bob grumbled. "I can already tell."
Ray was hunched over the table, adding ingredients to a shallow dish in tiny measurements. Gerard was standing next to him holding a vial of Holy Water. "Mikey, you ready?"
Mikey went to Frank and got the ink tube, then carried it over to Ray.
"Okay," Ray said, giving the mixture in the dish a final swirl. He held it out to Gerard, who added some Holy Water, murmuring as he did so. Ray looked up at Mikey. "Just like last time, okay?"
"Okay," said Mikey, holding out the tube.
Ray poured the mixture into the ink tube, while Gerard made the sign of the cross over it.
"Cingi aversabilis malus," he said. "Munimen abusque veneficium. Amen."
"Amen," Mikey and Ray said together. The mixture in the ink tube felt warm against Mikey's palms, for a second, and Mikey flinched a little in case it was going to come bubbling out of the top like the first time they tried it, but then it settled down.
Gerard smiled. "Nice work, guys. I think we really have this down."
"Maybe that's what we can do for a living," Brian said. He was counting money on the bed. "Magical tattoos."
Bob had done everyone else's tattoo himself. Ray's was on the inside of his arm, Mikey's on the inside of his wrist, Frank's on his hand, between his thumb and forefinger, and Brian's was on the back of his shoulder. It was a pretty simple design, an upside-down triangle overlaid with what Mikey thought looked like the Mitsubishi logo, but Ray and Gerard didn't like it if you pointed that out. It did, though, three black diamond-shapes joined together at the center. The top one had a cross in the middle, and the whole thing was surrounded by a circle.
Gerard had found the symbol during one of their assignments, but it was Frank's idea to get it tattooed. Originally, Bob said he wouldn't get one himself, but then he almost died because he got too close to one of Ray's exploding spells, and Brian made him promise he'd get inked as soon as possible. Bob had pointed out that a protection spell probably couldn't do much in the face of getting blown up, but Brian had made this one face he did that was exactly midway between worried and pissed off, and eventually Bob had agreed.
"Don't fuck this up," he was grumbling at Frank now, while Frank snapped the ink tube into the gun. "I mean it, Iero, I'm trusting you here."
"I'm not going to fuck up!" Frank said, making a hurt face. "Why would you automatically assume I'm going to fuck up?"
"He's not going to fuck up," Mikey said.
"You better not fuck up," Ray said anxiously, coming over to hover next to Bob's chair. "The spell's pretty delicate, Frankie, and it's powerful, if you get the symbol wrong, it could be a disaster."
"I'm not going to get the symbol wrong! I have done this before, you know."
"Not by yourself," said Gerard.
"I'm not by myself now," Frank pointed out. "I got the world's bitchiest canvas to keep me company, and fucking Raybledore hanging over my shoulder."
"Stop distracting him, Ray," said Brian from the bed. "Do Mikey's hair or something."
"Oh, do my hair," Mikey agreed, grabbing Ray's hand and pulling him over to the dressing table. "It's been, like, forever."
"What if we have to fight later, it'll be ruined," Ray said, but he ran his hands speculatively through Mikey's wet hair anyway, frowning at him in the mirror.
Mikey sighed. He loved having his hair done. When he was rich and famous he was going to pay someone to do his hair every day. Well, probably he would just get Ray to do it, still. "You can do it again after."
"Oh, thank you, what an opportunity," Ray said. Mikey grinned at him in the mirror and Ray laughed. "Fine, fine. Let's see what we can do."
