“It was in a science lesson.” Jace passed Sol his shorts, which he slipped back on, but he didn’t bother with his shirt. “You do?” Sol wasn’t sure that he could have pinpointed where or when that could have been, Jace doodled them so often. “I really like these on you.” He glanced up. He dried Sol from new moon to full, his touch careful, as if worried he might smear wet ink. He turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off with, but he saw to Sol first, dabbing droplets from the tattoos on his chest. “See something you like?” Jace asked, his smile as bright as the specks of water he blinked away. Draw the still-thick length of his cock with. Smudge the fuzz of fair hair that water darkened at his pelvis with raw umber pastels. Shade each curve of quads that running had delineated. Capture that still new-to-him breadth of his chest along with the length of his legs. He studied Jace and wished for a pencil or a paintbrush-would sketch him exactly as he was now, if that were an option.
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