Damon was wrong, but it didn't really matter. Moths, butterflies, they were both bugs.
"A clever way to get people to touch these," he replied, lifting Damon's finger. Under it was a third nipple. On the other side was a forth. Neither were covered by ink, but they were both nestled in inconspicuous places in the piece. It was a joke, of course. It wasn't that deep really. It had been on the wall of the tattoo gunner's place and it was what Alex had chosen on a night when tequila had been his preferred drink. Nothing more.
If Damon was searching for too much of a brain, he probably wouldn't find it on Alex who used street smarts more than any sort of deeper thinking.