"Are you sure about this?" the Driver asked the Manager for what was probably the twentieth time in as many minutes. He was currently hovering at the shoulder of his boyfriend, who was close to losing all the selfcontrol that was stopping him from pushing the Driver outside to wait for him. He should have known not to take the other man with him for this, but the Driver had insisted. "Yes, I'm sure. Now let the man does his work" the Manager sighed, motioning the Driver to sit down on the stool he should be sitting on as told by the other person in the room. "Go on, I'm ready" he said, lying back down again on his stomach. They were in a tattooshop where the Manager was getting a tattoo he had wanted for a very long time. He had never dared do it when he was still looking for a job and wanted to be absolutely sure he wanted the design on his body for the rest of his life. So for about 15 years he had stopped himself from doing it on a whim. Although being fairly skint for a long while helped with that as well. But about 3 months ago he had become sure of it. He had told the Driver, who said he would support him if it was what he truly wanted, but wanted to be equally sure about it. A month of talking it through, he convinced the Driver and could book an appointment.
So now here they were and the Driver was getting cold feet. The tattoo artist was a friend of the Manager's who was used to listening to this very conversation in his workshop at least once a day. Someone having doubts about their partner getting a tattoo was almost required of a normal day at work for him. So he had just gone on with preparing everything whilst the two of them went through the same conversation they had been having for the last week. But now he was done doing everything he could do before actually starting, and happy that the Manager seemed fed up with the Driver's concern. Smirking at the Manager's comment, he started applying the wax that was needed to take off any hair that would throw off his design. Working quickly, he made his human canvas ready for the little black cat that would grace the Manager's left shoulder. All the while the Driver was thankfully not asking the same question over and over again, his anxiety slowly being taken over by fascination of the work that went into tattooing someone. The Manager smiled at him when the actual tattooing started, and the Driver smiled back shyly. "Just say when it hurts too much, will you?" The Manager grinned. "This is nothing. You know my pain tolerance love" and reached out for the Driver's hand. The tattoo artist took about an hour, the Manager not making a single noise of pain, eyes closed, looking familiarly peaceful to the Driver. When it was all done, he got to look at it in the mirror, after the Driver got him to open his eyes and get up. The look on his face was worth all the anxiety for the Driver. The Manager smiled, and said "Yeah, that's it." That was good enough for the Driver. Maybe this tattoo-business wasn't that bad after all.