Oh My God, They Were Roommates

[ 11 ] Venus As A Boy

Kurapika pulled a joint from between his lips and, as white smoke drifted from between his teeth, he said, "Hold still. I'm still studying my canvas."

"I'll punch your teeth in. I swear to God I'll do it," Killua seethed, squirmy under Kurapika's stare. "Just—Just do it. I don't give a fuck if it looks bad. It's just for tonight."

"Excuse you—it's for at least two weeks unless you plan on exfoliating your stomach off every damn day," Kurapika said, setting the joint on the dish next to an assortment of semi-permanent tattoo pens. Kurapika held the picture up as he crawled forward on the bench until he had to drop his feet on the ground and straddle the bench, effectively straddling Killua as well.

Killua put his eyes to the locker room ceiling and swallowed hard.

"Hold still, baby ," Kurapika teased with a little purr that made someone laugh at the locker room doorway. Killua didn't recognize the guy, but considering he was holding an amp, Killua assumed he was part of the band.

"Fuck off! Don't you have a job to do?" Killua seethed.

"Ooh, kitten's got claws," the band member quipped, licking his teeth. One of his buddies pushed him along as Killua cussed him out and went back to lying on the bench, covering his hands over his nipples.

"Just hurry up, God," Killua huffed.

"Give me a second. I'm relaxing so I'm not shaky," Kurapika said, taking deep, meditative breaths as Killua laid there on the locker room bench in nothing but his sweatpants and underwear. As if he couldn't be any more pissed at Kurapika, the idiot started humming under his breath as he dragged his hands up and down with each inhale and exhale.

As Kurapika uncapped the pen and placed the reference photo on Killua's chest, he sang a little under his breath. As he started to punctuate dots along Killua's would-be happy trail, he sang, " 'h, she's sweet but a psycho, a little bit psy-ycho, and she's singing oh mamai-mama-mai... '"

"I don't think those are the lyrics..." Killua sang.

Kurapika matched Killua's sing-songy tone with, "And you better shut the fuck up or else I'll scribble the shit out of your stomach..."

It was a simple, minimal tattoo with delicate, fine lines and dots that accumulated into an abstract arrow pointing directly down to Killua's dick with curved points that Kurapika said looked like, "a pair of ovaries", which Killua punched him for.

As they were finishing it up, some performers for that night were already gathering in the locker room. A few of them complimented Killua's tattoo, which always prompted a snarky, unnecessary response from Kurapika along the lines of, "Yeah, you better like it, bitch. That shit's gonna save our boy's life tonight." Try as he might, Killua couldn't shut the guy up.

Among the performers, Leorio waltzed in, unannounced and unfazed by the dirty looks the dancers gave him. "I heard y'all were doing belly shots off of Killua's abs," he said, hands on his hips.

Killua rolled his eyes, hands fanning his stomach to dry the ink. "Right, and I'm guessing you came to get in on that action, huh?"

Leorio gave him a fake smile and said, "Don't flatter yourself. Actually came to deliver some goods for all you beautiful bitches. Dig in."

From the basket he set on the bench, he pulled out two massive bottles of vodka. The dancers all whooped in excitement, and Killua thought to himself, Thank God someone came in clutch tonight . As he got up—albeit carefully to avoid smearing the ink—he saw the rest of the basket's contents.