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⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

Peter grunted, taking the paintbrush out of his mouth and sticking it into his hair to hold the bun in place. "Hey, if I don't struggle when you slather that sticky clay all over me, then you shouldn't struggle when I try to paint you!" His eyes, as hard as they were when they first met, stared up at Hayden, his sharp teeth dangerously close to Hayden's goods. "You aren't being fair."

⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

With the pants now out of the way, Peter resumed his work, painting long, green strokes onto his human canvas. "Don't move too much," he ordered, half-closed eyes focused on the painted flesh. "Or you'll smudge the paint." His brush carried over the skin in slow precision, soon painting along the side of Hayden's most precious body part. Peter paid special attention to this part, tickling the head of the member with the soft, paint-coated bristles for a few seconds before trailing it back over to the teacher's hip. It took a little while, but soon enough, Peter had finish his erotic painting, detailed flowers traced onto the man's skin and practically alive. He licked his lips and inhaled sharply, unable to hide his arousal now. He'd never been attracted to his art before, but he almost didn't care about smudging the paint. He wanted the man in front of him to be his, right then and there. "All finished," he breathed, finally looking up at Hayden's face.

⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

"Oh, come on!" whined Peter as he stood, setting the paintbrush on the stained side table. "I've never slept with one of my creations before. It'd be interesting!" However, he didn't mind getting something to eat. Besides, maybe after getting some food, Hayden would be more open to the idea. He may as well, try for it one last time before giving up for now. "And other than that, can you really say that you don't have a weird fantasy like f-cking someone you've painted on?"

⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

He shrugged, tugging a new shirt over his head and tucking hair behind his ear. "I was overcome by a muse," was his reply as he stepped into a pair of old sneakers. "Come on, I'm not cooking for you again. When we get back, I'll help you wash it off, alright?"

⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

"What exactly are you doing?" questioned the artist as he walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his damp hair with a towel and tugging his shirt down with his other hand. He moved to sit on the arm of the couch, tossing the towel into a hamper by the laundry area and raising an eyebrow. "Staring at it won't make it talk back."

⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

Peter examined his nails, strangely interested by how there was no longer any paint under his nails. That was weird in its own. He almost always had paint there. Maybe it was all the showering he had to do lately. Having a boyfriend made him much more conscious of his cleanliness. The teen turned back to look at Hayden as he felt himself being mentally devoured. It took a second of silent thought, but he finally responded. "You do realize that I just took a shower, right?" he reminded the teacher, although he did slide off of the arm of the couch onto Hayden's lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Alright, alright. I suppose you've been a great boyfriend today."

⊗ Peter Shell ⊗

"Oh, quit being so sensitive," he chuckled, reaching onto the coffee table for a wet rag that was in a bowl of water, his other hand pushing up Hayden's shirt enough to start rubbing at a flower, his eyes flickering with lust. "Besides, you're beautiful, Hayden."

~~~

Peter lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and unsure of how they'd even gotten into the bedroom. He glanced over to Hayden, eyes narrowing a little. "You know, you never answered me last time. Why don't you ever c-m inside of me, Hayden?" He sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs.