There are four bowls arranged on the floor of the living area of the hut. Each contain gloop in varying earthen shades but for the last, which smells slightly better than the other three and is black
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He tries not to stare when he realizes she's looking at him, but looking at Priestly doesn't seem to help too much, so he keeps glancing between the two.
"I swear to god, if you get this on the costumes I made you I'm going to make you both eat it," Brooke mutters, concentrating on smoothing the paint up her sides so it's even.
The paint is cold, though, and Brooke concentrates hard on not squirming. More distracting than the cold, however, are Yorick's fingers slip-sliding up her thighs.
Gay boyfriends, Brooke tells herself firmly. God it's been an age since she got laid.
Paintbrushes are overrated. Priestly definitely thinks fingerpainting is the way to go when it comes to Brooke's body. He tries to wipe the paint off his chin with his wrist but ultimately, getting his hands on Brooke's body takes priority. Though he smears some more on Yorick's stomach first, just because he can.
"See?" he says with an angelic smile, beginning on the backs of her shoulders. "Didn't get anywhere near the costumes."
Yorick doesn't let himself go too high, much as he wants to. He really, really wants to. But it'd be sleazy, plus, he reminds himself a hundred times in his head, he has a girlfriend.
"Oh my god," he drawls, when Priestly attacks him again. He flutters his eyelashes, cupping Brooke's thighs and looking around them. "Priestly, if you want to touch me, all you gotta do is ask."
Brooke looks up from where she's smoothing paint down her arm. "The costume isn't assless chaps, Yorick," she says, planting a handprint on her cheek. "Big baby. How we doing on the back, Priestly? I have green for moss and black for getting some texture in there."
"I'm almost done feeling you up," he says cheekily, ignoring Yorick's comment. Well, not ignoring it. Just feeling glad that his jeans have continued to be accommodating, and that Yorick isn't in a position to bust him again. Between Yorick and Brooke, he never stood a chance.
"Is that part the moss?" he says, pointing at the drawing and moving his finger along the edge of it.
Yorick doesn't, but Brooke has nice legs, and he's got a free pass to touch them. He makes like he's going to go higher, like the stomach or the chest area, but he blushes and doesn't.
Brooke sees the blush and makes quick work of the rest of her ass, smoothing the paint over her chest as well. There will be detail work there she'll need help on, no question, but that can be done with a brush if anyone's worried about their virtue.
"Mmhmm," she hums to Priestly, pulling an elastic from her wrist to gather her hair in a high ponytail. It doesn't matter if she gets paint in her hair. When they're done, there's gonna be paint all over. "Do you like it?"
"I think nobody's gonna be able to keep their eyes off you," says Priestly. Not that he thinks many people can keep their eyes off Brooke anyway. "You're gonna look fucking amazing. I mean, not that you don't already. Even with your clothes on. I mean... shutting up now."
And he smears some more paint on her with his fingertips.
Brooke would smack him if it wouldn't ruin their budding masterpiece. "Thank you," she tells Priestly, leaning backwards to kiss his cheek.
"It'll be different for sure," she adds, and sometimes different is all that matters. "Everyone else I've seen so far is wearing some variation on a fairy costume."
Priestly takes a moment to play the world's smallest violin for Yorick before getting back to work on the back of Brooke's neck, making sure he doesn't miss anything. And not just for an excuse to put his hands all over her.
"I don't get to use my big brush anymore?" says Priestly, but then he wasn't using his brush anyway, he was using his hands. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Sometimes hands were better than a big brush, if you knew how to use them right. "Okay, so I just follow this pattern here?"
"Uh..."
He tries not to stare when he realizes she's looking at him, but looking at Priestly doesn't seem to help too much, so he keeps glancing between the two.
"Is this like...mud wrestling?"
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The paint is cold, though, and Brooke concentrates hard on not squirming. More distracting than the cold, however, are Yorick's fingers slip-sliding up her thighs.
Gay boyfriends, Brooke tells herself firmly. God it's been an age since she got laid.
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"See?" he says with an angelic smile, beginning on the backs of her shoulders. "Didn't get anywhere near the costumes."
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"Oh my god," he drawls, when Priestly attacks him again. He flutters his eyelashes, cupping Brooke's thighs and looking around them. "Priestly, if you want to touch me, all you gotta do is ask."
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"Is that part the moss?" he says, pointing at the drawing and moving his finger along the edge of it.
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Yorick doesn't, but Brooke has nice legs, and he's got a free pass to touch them. He makes like he's going to go higher, like the stomach or the chest area, but he blushes and doesn't.
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"Mmhmm," she hums to Priestly, pulling an elastic from her wrist to gather her hair in a high ponytail. It doesn't matter if she gets paint in her hair. When they're done, there's gonna be paint all over. "Do you like it?"
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And he smears some more paint on her with his fingertips.
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"It'll be different for sure," she adds, and sometimes different is all that matters. "Everyone else I've seen so far is wearing some variation on a fairy costume."
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"I think I might be ready for step two."
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"Really? Already?" she asks Priestly. "Great! You'll need...the two smaller brushes, I think."
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He finishes painting all the places he has the guts to touch, eyes lingering on the ones he doesn't.
"Show off." He paints a swirl on both of Brooke's kneecaps in the darker brown.
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