Scenes from a Pandemic: Negotiation*

[Setting: cuddling in bed. I am dressed; He is not.]

Him: Ow. What the fuck is on that that hurts?
Me: Uh… buttons, maybe?
*takes off shirt*
Him: No. Still there. Is it your collar?!
*checks*
Him: Umm… Nope. Just your fucking sternum, apparently.
Me, a person who sometimes likes getting hit in the sternum: You should probably punish it by beating it.
Him: I don’t think you’d actually want that. I *could* stick needles there and then hammer them in…
Me: I feel that is potentially a risk to my lungs.
Him: Nonsense. But that’s okay, I’ll just stick them under your toenails instead!
Me: …
Him: Oh, okay. We can do your fingers.
Me: I need those for typing my thesis.
Him: Especially right through the fingertips…
Me: I especially need those for typing my thesis.
Him: Okay. Toenails it is! And they say we don’t negotiate.