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THIS, RIGHT HERE, is the most at peace Judy has felt since her brother's passing. She's back at the Boneyard, cooped up in the old lifeguard tower with JJ, watching him jab himself with a homemade stick 'n poke contraption, which consists of a needle taped to the end of a yellow pencil, dipped in black ink.
He's concentrating so hard on the work he's applying to his ankle, that the tip of his tongue peeks out, and his brows are knitted together as one. He's also sporting a pair of tan overalls, shirtless underneath, with a navy blue cap perched backwards on his head.
He's just marvellous to look at.
A fucking dreamboat, Judy's subconscious purrs.
"I can feel you starin'," JJ senses, speaking without looking up. "It's distracting."
Judy snorts. "Gosh. I'm sorry I find you attractive."
His lips expand into a cocky smirk. But, deep down, he doesn't generally take compliments well. He gets all shy inside, and doesn't know what to say. But when she does it, he feels as though he's won the fucking lottery.
Huffing, she redirects her eyes down to his freshly tattooed skin, a raw red tint blooming around the edges. She smiles softly at the abbreviation he's chosen to put on his body for life.
P4L.
"Whatcha think?" He asks.
She grazes over it with her thumb. "I like it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." A sense of eagerness sprouts in her chest. "Can I have one?"
Blue eyes snap up. "What?"
"I want one."
JJ's mouth opens, and then closes. He was almost about to say 'your brother would kill me', and then remembered that that isn't the case anymore. It's saddening.
"You know these are for life, right?" He points out.
Judy rolls her eyes. "I'm well aware."
"N' it'll hurt—"
"I'm not a pussy, Jesse." She shoves her ankle under his nose. "Prick me."
