This is based on a prompt I found on tumblr.
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
"You want to tattoo my name where?"
"On my ass!" Nux chirps without a shred of hesitation. (It probably helps that he's more than a bit tipsy at this point.)
Capable places her glass down on the coffee table. She doesn't know whether to laugh or feel offended. They've been hanging out at her apartment, sprawled next to each other on the carpet, sharing a bottle of wine. It's late in the evening, and they're both far past their limit. The conversation had jumped from discussing the pilot episode of Blindspot to his myriad of tattoos and what his next one will be. Nux often feels the itch to get a new tattoo, at least once a year, and many days she'll see him with a bit more ink than she previously remembered.
It's not that she's objecting to having her name tattooed somewhere on his body. They've been best friends for years, even though they didn't initially start out that way. (He had been an obnoxious little boy and she had issues handling social situations. They had reconnected during college on much more mature and stable terms and have been practically inseparable ever since.) If anything, she's flattered that he wants some part of her permanently etched on him, but she's not sure if his ass is where she thinks that to be.
"That's kind of an insult, isn't it? Putting my name there?" she huffs.
"It's not an insult! Don't you like my ass?"
Nux flips over on his belly to further his point, and Capable is glad the effects of her drink are enough to hide her blush. She does like his ass, probably more than she cares to admit, so she snorts and flops against his back.
"But why on your ass?"
"'Cause I got tattoos everywhere else," he remarks with a shrug. It's true. He has two full sleeves, an intricate blueprint of an engine on his chest, and many random illustrations along his back and legs and knuckles. He even has a tattoo tucked behind his ear, a small row of stars. Capable often finds herself tracing her fingers along the inked lines like she's trying to find something new she hasn't discovered before, but he never seems to mind; rather, he seems pleased with her fascination in his body art. There are still faint traces of a removed tattoo on the back of his neck, the remnants of a skull on a steering wheel – the only one he's regretted in his 24 years; he doesn't like to talk about it, and she doesn't push it.
"So, I wanna put your name someplace special. Someplace totally untouched." He grins and shakes his hips in a playfully provocative dance until Capable pinches his leg and they both giggle. He scoots closer to her, brushes the tip of his nose against her temple as he murmurs, "Whaddya say? You wanna take my ass virginity?"
For a long moment, there's nothing but silence. And then Capable's answer is to snatch one of the throw pillows off the couch and smack him with it repeatedly. Nux bursts into hysterical laughter, shielding his face with his arms against her onslaught, singing "Capable on my ass! Capable on my ass!" until she's laughing just as hard right along with him.
She topples back down against the foot of the couch when she's feeling too breathless and her sides start to ache. He wriggles his way up into a sitting position next to her and casually slings an arm around her shoulders; she leans into him automatically. She's not at all bothered by his proximity. He's the best cuddler she knows, and they've never been afraid of sharing touches like this. It's just what they do.
"Y'think there's a place still open this late?" he hums thoughtfully.
Capable groans, unable to believe he's still considering it. "No. No! You are not getting a drunk tattoo!"
"Cape, c'mon, I'm not all that drunk," Nux whines, balancing his chin on her shoulder and tugging pathetically on a piece of her hair.
She bats at his hands. "Don't give me that shit. You're drunk and you do stupid things all the time when you're drunk."
"Nuh-uh. Name one."
"The time you called the people that make SoBe so you could tell them about your new beverage idea, SoBe-it?"
"That was a good idea. I even had a good tagline: when life brings you down, SoBe-it."
"The time you tried to laminate an egg because you thought it'd come out looking sunny-side up?"
"Hey, you'd want to preserve one too if you thought they were as pretty as I do—"
"The time you cut off—"
"Okay, okay! Christ alive, I said name one." He snuffles dramatically, fixing on his best puppy-dog pout. "Capable, you're so meeeaaan…"
"Am not. Just one of us has gotta be thinking straight." She rolls onto her feet, feeling the need to pee. "You want my name on your ass? Come back to me about it in the morning and then we'll talk."
"Really?!" he calls after her. "Y'mean it?!"
"Yeah," she replies as she shuts the bathroom door.
It's well past sunrise when Capable's phone starts ringing. She moans sleepily from where she's sprawled on her bed, tangled up in her bedsheets.
Nux had hailed an Uber car ride back to his apartment, deemed too drunk to make it back to his place on his own; she had offered him her couch for the night, but he had waved it off, saying he had something to take care of.
She reaches blindly for her phone, feeling far too hungover to do any sort of socializing, but it's probably just Nux, letting her know he's still alive and in one piece. Gazing blearily at the backlit screen confirms her suspicions. After two failed attempts, she manages to poke the little answer button on the screen and sandwiches the phone between the pillow and her cheek.
"'Lo?" Capable half-murmurs, half-yawns.
"I'm at the tattoo parlor!" Nux's happy voice trills on the other end.
"Mm-hmmmm…" she hums sleepily, having not yet opened her eyes. It's not the first time either of them have called the other for some nonsensical reason – he often wakes her up with the need to explain some crazy dream he had the previous night and she distinctly remembers calling him up at 3 am once to get some carne asada fries at the 24-hour Mexican fast food place around the corner – so she lets him babble on until her brain can catch up with the rest of her body.
"Aren't you gonna come see me get my new tattoo?" he says, sounding remarkably lucid for a guy who just drank his weight in vino the previous night.
"Mmmmm… Wha' f'r?" she slurs.
"So you can see what your name looks like on my ass!"
At that, Capable jerks fully awake.
"Wait, what? You actually did it?!"
"Yeah! Guy says it's almost done." She can hear the faint buzz of the tell-tale needle in the background, now confirmed to not be just a product of her sleep-deprived brain. "You said to wait until morning to get it. Well, it's morning, and I'm getting a tattoo."
"I said we could talk about it in the morning!"
"Oh. Did you? Sorry, I was kinda drunk."
Kinda, Capable groans internally. "Wait!" She throws off the sheets and scrambles off the bed, hurrying to shove on a pair of pants. "Nux, wait, hold on!" She curses when she bangs her elbow against the dresser in an attempt to find a proper top.
"Uhhhh, kinda too late for that," he laughs. "I'm not all that fond of having just 'Capa' on my ass cheek."
"Shit. Wait, just— I can't believe you— Where are you?"
He prattles off the street address of the parlor while she attempts to run her hairbrush through her unruly locks; she gives up after the sixth pass and throws her hair up into a hastily-made bun. She looks a mess with her wrinkled jeans and oversized sweater, but if she's going to rip Nux a new one, she can stand to look a little scary.
He did it. He actually fucking did it.
Nux is standing there with his back to her and his pants slung low on his hips to reveal his latest work of art. Her name is staring back at her, right at the top of his left ass cheek. (In all fairness, it's really well done, stylish and loopy, but that's besides the point.) He's got the biggest, stupidest grin on his face and oh God, she should not be staring at her best friend's exposed ass so openly.
"I can't believe you got my name tattooed on your ass," Capable groans into the hand she has slapped over her face. "That is so dumb. People won't even know it's my name."
His smile doesn't waver as he hitches his pants back up and refastens it. "Nobody else is gonna see it. Just me 'n you."
She's not sure if he means her seeing it now, or during any possible future encounters, and she can't help but go a bit red at the thought.
"I mean, couldn't you have waited, like, another day to do this? A week?" she whines.
"What for?"
"Wh— Christ, Nux, you have the word 'Capable' on your ass!"
"Yeah, and it looks great! Don't you think?" He sounds so enthusiastic, she hates feeling like the Debbie-Downer raining on his parade.
But it's still my name. Down there. In permanent ink. She can't help but compare his newest ink to the white traces of the once-tattoo on the back of his neck. What if her name ends up like that too? Erased from existence, leaving only remnants of unhappy memories and regret.
Capable sighs heavily and rubs at her eyes. "This is so stupid. You're so going to regret this by tomorrow morning."
"I'm not. And it's not stupid," Nux insists, sounding more serious than he has been throughout this whole ordeal. Capable shuts her mouth. "Cape, I wanted to do this." He grins at her, and it's not exaggerated or wry at all. It's sincere. "I like having you in my life. You think I'd get your name permanently inked on such an intimate part of me as a joke? That would be, like, the most asshole-ish thing in the world. Which is the last thing I'd ever want to do to you." He grips her shoulders reassuringly, the weight of his hands feeling comfortable and warm. "You're not a joke to me, Capable. You're important. Real important."
Capable feels herself going redder in the face of his admission. She can never win when he's like this, looking so open and honest. But that's why they're so close; it's the reason why he's her best friend. He's never too caught up in his own ego to make her happy. He's ridiculous at times, sure, but he puts his heart into everything he does. He treats her like something precious, but never fragile. She can't imagine not having him in her life; they've become so tightly entwined that she might as well have his name tattooed upon her person too. He must know what he does to her, because she'll give in to just about anything when he's looking at her so puppy-dog innocent. Those big blues will be the end of her, she's certain of it.
"… You're buying me coffee. I am way too hungover for this," she manages quietly, placing her hand over one of his.
Nux just grins full wattage and nudges his head in the direction of his car.
(It might be a roundabout way of getting a date, but he'll take it.)
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