First he cleaned a spot on Vic’s arm, daubing the skin with alcohol and some green, foaming mess that squirted out of a bottle like hairspray. The disposable razor scraped uselessly over already bald skin. Then he applied what looked like a temporary tattoo, rubbing it onto Vic’s shoulder like a template to guide him during the tattoo process. Matt thought of his own temporary tats, just now beginning to flake off. A line of Chinese characters still encircled his d**k just below its plumlike head; whenever he tried to rub them away, he ended up j*********f instead. And this morning in the shower, he’d scratched below his right buttock and came away with black ink under his fingernails. He could still remember the way Vic’s tongue had felt as his lover pressed the tattoo into his skin.
Vic
