Because of its intricate design and sheer size, the tattoo takes several weeks to complete. The first night, Chris outlines the entire thing, which takes longer than he expected—the tattoo is a writhing mass of sharp angles and long lines starting just above a freckle on the back of Lee’s upper arm. It curves up his bicep, around his armpit, following the lines of his body. Around his shoulder it flares out, filling up most of that side of Lee’s back, then trickles down to end a few inches below his shoulder blade. The outline itself takes a good two hours of nothing but intense concentration, Chris’s hand steady as he grips the tattoo gun, his world nothing but black ink on pale skin and the faint smell of Old Spice deodorant wafting up from Lee as he works. It’s a smell Chris has come to
