Unholyverse

~Part 2~

"You got a tattoo from a stranger?" Bob was holding Frank's hand and staring at it like the Virgin Mary had just appeared on it or some fucking thing. "What the fuck, Iero, we're not good enough for you anymore?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "Look at her, dude, she's amazing."

"I don't know." Mikey was leaning over Bob's shoulder, peering at Frank's hand where Bob had lifted the wrap. "It's kind of creepy, don't you think?"

"Totally creepy," Ray confirmed over Bob's other shoulder. "Since when are you into chicks, anyway?"

"Fuck you, don't you have hair to cut?" Frank pulled his hand back and cradled it against his chest. He pressed the wrap back down and smoothed it gently over her face. "She's awesome."

"I feel like I've seen that somewhere before," Mikey said, touching his fingertips to Frank's wrist. "Not a tattoo, like...art, or something."

"See," Frank told Ray. "Art."

"What the fuck is that shit you got smeared all over it?" Bob wrinkled his nose. "Smells like my Grandma."

It wasn't the usual goo Frank used - Luke had given it to him in an unmarked jar and said, "Promise me you'll put it on three times a day and you can have it free of charge."

"It's homemade," Frank said to Bob.

Bob stared at him. "It's homemade? Fuck, Iero, that shit could have anything in it, what the fuck."

"It's just herbs and shit, Jesus." Frank was getting pissy, he knew, and he was using the tone of voice most likely to earn him a slap on the back of the head from Bob, but he didn't care. He knew accepting the gunk from Luke was weird, he knew the whole thing was weird. He didn't need people to point it out.

"Why are you even dropping money on new ink when your car's been towed, man?" Ray looked up from his customer's head and pointed his scissors at Frank in the mirror. "You know you have to pay to get it back."

"I can't afford it anyway," Frank replied. Brian was on the phone in the back room, but Frank could see him throwing disapproving glances his way. Frank moved back over to the door to his room in a way he hoped made it look like he was doing some actual work. "You know they charge you like an extra sixty bucks every day your car stays there? Forget it, man, my car's gone. I can just barely afford to eat this month."

"You could ask Brian to front you some cash until payday," Ray suggested. Frank gave him a Look. Ray sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"You ought to sue his ass for discrimination," Bob commented. "It's not your fault you're a wilting lilac."

"Man, shut the fuck up." Frank shook his head, but smiled despite himself. "Whatever, you know? C'est la vie. Hey, are you gonna teach me to use that thing today?"

Bob turned his needle over thoughtfully in his hands. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Tomorrow never comes," Frank sighed, but he tried not to sound too sulky about it because he knew Bob was just hazing him. It had only been a few months - if he kept on asking Bob would have to give in eventually. It was just a matter of time. "It's okay, buddy. I can wait."

Ray stared at him. "Seriously, did you put Ritalin on your cornflakes this morning? What happened to 'If Bob doesn't teach me to tattoo right this minute I will die'?"

"Your two o' clock tongue is here," Mikey said then.

Mikey had this weird thing where he never wrote anything down, but he always knew when any one of them had an appointment. Frank gestured to the nervous-looking girl and her two giggly friends standing by the door. She'd probably look a lot more nervous if she knew Frank was getting sued for infecting a guy's balls.