"Lemme finish the first pass, Stevie," Kavinsky crooned. He tilted his head slightly, exposing his jaw and his neck for more attention. Biting was a standard, these days, between Steve and Noah. He'd get a stink eye about it if he showed up bloody, but Kavinsky didn't care. Maybe that would satisfy the room. No new sins on him, but blood anyway.

He said nothing else, speeding up his work in carving the word in. Shame it was a knife, and not a brand or something. Who knew how long these scars would last.

But once he'd finished the first pass of the word, he went right back to the beginning. Now, he was humming slightly, thoughtfully, as he went back over the places that had already been healed. If he was thinking of the torture he'd been subjected to that still sometimes haunted his nightmares, it didn't show on his face at all.

"One pass for every time you've hit it? That seems fair, don't you think? How long will this stick around?"