aroceu's ficShe dries her hands off on Shoyo’s shirt and lifts it over his shoulders and head. Her fingers are warm but the paint is cold and it makes him shiver when she colors his collar bones navy blue. She accents each of his ribs slowly. It tickles but he tries not to squirm.
Harry reaches up to grab things from high places, that’s it, that’s the story (also it may or may not be the boys’ faults.)
party’s on the porch (that’s where we’ll be)