The long wait was finally over. After what felt like an eternity, he held the precious vial. Testosterone. It was more than just a medication; it was a key. A key that unlocked the man he knew himself to be. The internal struggle, the disconnect between mind and body, was about to fade. This was freedom, a chance to finally align his physical self with his true identity.

But a daunting hurdle remained: the needles. A strange paradox, considering his body was a canvas adorned with countless tattoos and piercings, each a testament to his willingness to endure physical discomfort. Yet, the sight of a sharp needle, the thought of it piercing his skin, sent a wave of pure dread through him. Drawing the liquid was manageable, a mere inconvenience. The actual injection, however, was a different beast entirely.

Luther emerged from his shower, the lingering steam clinging to his skin. He found him there, a picture of anxious concentration. His hand trembled, hovering over the spot where the needle needed to go. Luther, pulling on a pair of comfortable sweatpants, approached him silently. He placed a gentle hand on his back, a soft touch meant to signal his presence without startling him.

"Hey, baby bat," Luther’s voice was low and comforting as he rested his chin on his shoulder. "Need some help with that? You're shaking like a leaf in a bad storm."

He met his gaze in the mirror, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "It's pretty funny, y’know? All those tattoos and piercings, and you're still scared of a little needle."