Purple Paint

PROMPT: "jiper au where jason is a model and piper is his stylist ! :)" - anonymous (tumblr)

Piper didn't sign up for this.

But man did she wish she had sooner.

Her assigned model sat on the stool in front of her, idly playing with his thumbs as she ran a comb through his short-cropped blond hair. It was all she had in her to keep from glancing down at the guy's glorious shoulder blades and plump tush perched over the chair.

Focus, she reminded herself. Ogle later.

This wasn't a Calvin Klein photo shoot, but Piper would go as far to say that her model could have given any of those beef tucking boys a run for their money. His white briefs fit around him snugly and the muscles in his arms popped out as he stretched them forward in attempt to crack his joints.

Her eyes flickered up to the name tag hanging from her mirror, put in place to keep the models in order – it was found that they got lost rather easily. The little square of laminated paper read "Jason."

Once she was satisfied with the amount of gel she'd slathered into his hair, she pulled back, letting herself see him from a different angle and distance. One rebellious strand of hair stuck up in the back, and although it sort of ruined everything she was going for in his prim look, she found it quite endearing.

She lifted her fingers to flatten the piece of hair, because no one would tell her she let a model out with a 'do made famous by Alfalfa the little rascal, but the darn thing wouldn't cooperate. Frustration gripped at her the longer she tried to fix it, clutching her comb and pomade in her hand almost dangerously. Nothing was working and if she spent anymore time on the stupid little piece of hair, she'd have to rush the body painting—and she reallydidn't want to rush the body painting.

Finally, after at least five minutes of tugging at the back of the guy's head, she groaned and dropped her hands. "What the hell, demon cowlick!"

The model looked up, and his expression was almost sheepish. "Uh- That's been like that forever. I don't think it can be fixed."

Piper crossed her arms, glaring at him dryly. "Maybe you could have told me that five minutes ago."

He wrinkled his nose. "I suppose."

With a roll to her iridescent eyes, she made a quick decision. This was in her hands—literally. All her handy work would go out the window in the name of style. Piper lifted her right hand to his hair and…mussed.

A quick breath forced itself out of his mouth in surprise. She tugged and pulled and shook her hand until Jason's hair was wild and sticking up in every direction—tastefully, of course. She knew what she was doing. Well, she hoped she did.

"You just- But we…" He was gaping like a fish, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't at least a little cute.

"We're going to do this my way," she decided, glancing over her shoulder at the other stylists and their models in the make-up room. All the men looked the same, with their hair gelled up pin-straight, and colorful paint carefully layered over their bodies like a second skin. "'Jason' by Piper McLean."

A little upward tug at his lips had confidence washing through her. Piper was no stranger to doing what she damn well pleased, and that was exactly what she planned to do. She was going to make Jason stand out in the way he should have.

Reaching for the can of purple body paint stocked on her cosmetic counter, she placed her thumb over the cap and shook it thoroughly. "So, should we go with…innocent mistake or outright disregard for the guidelines?"

Jason squared his shoulders, as if accepting that she wasn't going to just play by the rules. No matter how much he pleaded. With a sigh, he said, "Might as well go the whole nine yards."

She liked the way he thought.

By the time Piper had squirted a line of vibrant purple paint over her hand, Jason had stood up, facing her and squeezing his eyes shut as he waited to be colored. "Open your eyes, you doof," she laughed.

"Aren't you going to paint my face?" His eyes opened as he said it, and they widened when she brought her hand up to his cheek, slowly smearing a trail of violet along his face and purposefully missing the little white scar she found above his lip. She didn't move her eyes from his.

"Yes," she said softly, letting a smile creep onto her lips. She used her thumb to trace the contours the bright lighting made, designing instead of coating it in the one solid color like she was being paid to. She wasn't concerned about losing her job if she deemed her own decision better suited.

"You're going to get us both in trouble," Jason whispered, but the way he leaned forward, almost eager, had her thinking he didn't mind all that much.

She shrugged. "It'll be worth it."

"…Agreed."

Piper placed her paint-slicked palm on his chest, pressing the purple into his skin. It dragged over his body, leaving marks of perfectly imperfect patterns. She tracked her hands all around him, down his legs, over his arms, and against his lower stomach. She watched as his throat bobbed when she circled the paint there, letting her eyes lock onto his again.

At some point, it had just became her learning the curves of his skin in the most natural way she could manage and letting the paint follow her movements over his body. He watched her carefully, all attention put onto her searching hands, or eyes that seemed to protest for his attention every time they lost it.

When she finished, she took a step back again, studying the work of art she'd created. Jason stood tall, spreading his arms out and allowing her a good look at the masterpiece of himself. They both laughed at the sight of his toned body speckled in clouds of grape paint, the image only interrupted by the stark white briefs stretched over his thighs and groin.

"How do I look?" he asked, even going so far as to twirl for her. "I think purple might be my color."

Another peek around the room offered her the images of horror-struck stylists taking in the sight of Piper's messy model. Looking back to Jason, who was posing in front of the mirror and fluffing up his hair even more wildly than before, she couldn't help to grin. And while she had the chance, her eyes flung to the glorious booty he kept parked behind him.

She couldn't have felt better in her choice.

"Jason, Number 9, you're up!"

He turned around quickly, looking to Piper with a nervous smile on his lips. "Uh oh," he said under his breath. "Pray for me."

It was his turn to get photographed and surely the photographers would be surprised in what she'd done. But Piper knew style. Fashion. Art. This looked better than turning him into a creepy walking Barney the Friendly Dinosaur.

And she wasn't afraid to take a risk when no one else was.

As he walked past, determined eyes locked in on the curtained entrance to the set, she reached a hand out and stopped him.

"Finishing touch," she whispered in his ear as she grabbed a handful of that delicious ass. Maybe the action had been mostly for the photo shoot, but if asked, she wouldn't deny the enjoyment she got out of it. How could she not have liked that?

She imagined his face bright red under the purple paint as he gawked at her, and she laughed. Patting his toosh one last time, she said, "Go on! You've got pictures to take!"

He turned quickly, walking off. Whether aware or not of the pretty purple hand print marring his once completely white underpants, Piper didn't know.

Two weeks later, she stepped into the lobby of her apartment, immediately turning to the left to make a pit stop at the mailboxes stacked off to the side. It was getting colder out in New York and the beginnings of a snow storm stuck to her jacket. A shiver forced its way down her body and she tugged her coat around her tighter. Running her finger along the metal trays of the mail slots, she stopped once she read "McLean: Apt 12."

After slipping her key into the hole to open it, she flipped through the piles of mail, muttering, "Bill, bill, postcard, bill…"

But then a thick piece of paper sprung up from the back of her tray, like it had been shoved in there forcefully. She pulled it out curiously to find a shiny book.

She unrolled the magazine that had been stuffed into the box, despite the fact that mail boxes weren't really meant to fit them, and her mouth dropped open when she took sight of the front cover.

Boys in Color

Her model, Jason, posed in the picture on the cover page. Jeez, she had almost forgotten just how messy he'd gotten with the paint. His purple splattered back was to the camera and he was looking over his shoulder, grinning as he showed off a certain stamp of a hand on the curve of his ass. His blue eyes were bright and his hair stuck up everywhere.

'Jason' by Piper McLean

Something inside her chest jumped as she looked further down to see words that didn't belong to the original print of the magazine. A hastily scrawled Sharpie note at the bottom.

A phone number. A name. And a note.

"Let's do lunch." — Jason

A/N: Originally posted on November 23rd, 2014 to the pjowriters page on tumblr! Check it out if you wanna see more from my very talented friends! :)