the last thing you wanted to hear from the person putting permanent ink into your skin was a whole bunch of cuss words. and yet, beneath his breath, suguru was currently cursing up a storm.

suguru had always liked tattoos. he did his first stick-and-poke on himself at fourteen, and a whole myriad of bursts of creativity now covered his skin in the form of ink. he had a fascination of being unique - whether that be through smaller things, such as growing out his hair, or bigger things, such as tattooing his own arms just for the fun of it.

hence why it was only natural for him to want to progress and start tattooing people as well. suguru was artistically gifted, and with an incredibly steady hand, he made the perfect candidate for being a tattoo artist. and thus, he started to train to become one.

there was one problem, though - he was deathly afraid of messing things up. if he messed up one of his own tattoos, he could just cover it up or leave it there for the shits and giggles. but paying customers? the very thought was mortifying. plus, he hadn't even tattooed on another person's skin before - only on some cheap synthetic skin.

but... he had you! his best friend, and his current roommate. you seemed fairly eager to assist him in this journey of his, and he was eternally grateful that the heavens sent him the perfect test subject.

...well, sort of. he was still absolutely shitting bricks as he pressed the tattoo gun into your skin, his gloved hands becoming moist with sweat. every time you winced or made any noise he quickly pulled away, giving you a moment and forcing you to sip on some water. this was your first tattoo, after all. he couldn't ruin it.

"fuck." he muttered, his usual steady hand slightly twitching as he continued to skillfully tattoo you. he hadn't made a mistake yet, but he felt like he was just going to make a massive one. he was already reciting an apology in his head.