There was something about an overcast day that had Grey staring out the window instead of working on his mannequin. He had a paintbrush in his hand and the tip in his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully, but he wasn't studying the life-size human male form he was supposed to be painting for practice. He was watching a line in the clouds, a pale line, like a break from dark to light where both met but never quite touched. He tapped his glasses against the window pane and shook his head, putting a hand to his back and rubbing slightly. His bad posture came from leaning over workbenches for hours at a time, perfecting colors, and bending down to read. But it was well worth it in Grey's opinion. He hadn't made it this far on wishes.

Tearing his eyes away from the sky after they started itching from lack of focus, he went back to his test dummy and started mixing a dark blue paint, then gently sponging it on the dummy, which was toned to resemble pale, pinkish human skin. He'd been working on a galaxy-like print for a while, now, and had been practicing for ages to get the tones right. After he did, Grey made sure to label them correctly, and pack them accordingly for his trip into the studio later that day. He was careful not to spread too much, waste what he'd developed already, and let it dry slightly before getting to work with a very small brush. His hand was precise and solid, making quick, fluid lines flawlessly.

Next to the mannequin, a digital clock read 10:33A. At noon he would have to get to the studio to begin the evening's showpieces.

Hikaru sighed and stared out the window of the black limo, watching the rain paint the glass with drops of water. There was something beautiful about it, something sadly fragile about it... Like his reflection he saw when he focussed. Such a thin frame, elegant and stunningly pretty. But he was supposed to be a man. He sighed again, flinching slightly when he heard his mother speak.

"Quit your sighing, Walt. You sound like a lovesick woman," she chuckled, hitting his shoulder slightly. "I am sure you'll love it. The company said they want full body shots, and you'll be painted up as well. I think it sounds like fun." Fun for her, Hikaru thought darkly, resting his head on his hand. She wasn't the one that had to lie still for possibly hours while a complete stranger painted his naked body.

Even though he was a model, he always felt insecure about his body. Often people asked about the scars on his chest, or why he was completely hairless. He heard people talk among themselves about his voice which sounded like a woman's, and how he could be mistaken easily for a female. That was because he was technically both a man and a woman, though he had narrowed it down by removing the breasts he had grown while going through puberty. They stopped at the studio, and Hikaru waited for the driver to bring an umbrella.

The alarm rang and Grey startled, looking up from his work and shaking his head. His eyes were watering and his head spun, and several minutes went by in which he crouched with his head between his legs and breathed in and out carefully. Vertigo again. After it passed, he gathered up his bag and looked out the window again. So dark. Rain was falling now. When had that started? He hadn't even paid attention. Shaking his head again, Grey went downstairs, leaving his loft and passing the yellow-furred mutt that lay sprawled out on a soft dog bed near the staircase. "Hey Ben." Grey crouched down and patted the dog's head as it looked up and thumped its tail in greeting. "I'm gonna get going, okay? See you soon." He felt like he was talking to a child, but he loved his rescue dog. A scraggly looking young thing he'd gotten a few years ago from a shelter. At least this was one living thing that didn't seem to die for loving him.

He left his highrise apartment and ran to his car, shaking his black hair free of droplets of rain and situating his paints in the seat next to him. Then he started his vehicle and pulled away, slipping into the traffic that was a little slower now that heavy rain was falling. At least he was only fifteen minutes away from the studio.

He was escorted into the studio with the driver holding an umbrella over his head, as though the rain would melt him. His mother introduced who he was to the receptionist and they were led straight inside. He was used to the looks he was given, the whispers behind his back. He was very beautiful, especially for a man. He had heard about many straight guys that said they'd be gay for him. But he didn't find it flattering. He just wished he could find someone, anyone that looked at him for who he was, not simply because they wanted to have sex with him.

He was dressed and posed for several shoots, the artist was late they had been told. He was then asked to undress and go to a private booth, where he would wait for the artist. His mother told him that she'd be back later and rushed out of the studio, going to spend his money no doubt. While he unclothed, he noticed someone quietly watching him. He thought the booth was supposed to be private, so he gave the other a questioning glance. The man smiled and approached him, touching his smooth skin and whispering dirty things into his ear. He jerked backwards and the man winked, leaving the booth and making Hikaru feel uncomfortable.

He was used to this sort of behaviour, but it still shocked him. Anything could have happened to him and no one would be any wiser until he emerged, crying and beaten. It had happened before, too many times to count. It made him sad.

He was already hating people by the time he arrived, driving to the back of the studio and taking the private entrance. The guard by the double doors recognized Grey immediately and opened the door, offering his umbrella with a barely concealed snicker. Grey was used to that, he knew most people here, save any new model that came in. He simply shook his wet head, slipping into the building with his arms full of bag as it shifted and changed form. Finding his way to the back rooms, he was intercepted by Lucy Aldman, his longtime friend and organizer. "Hon, you're late." She scolded slightly.

Grey shrugged and gave a lopsided smile. "Yeah... I got... I was busy, okay?"

"As usual." She swept her brown hair back and grasped his arm. "C'mon, let's get your stuff set up, the model will be coming in soon."

"He's not here?"

"He is, he is. He's getting ready."

"What's his name...?"

"I believe..." Lucy brought her papers out from under her arm and studied them. "Hikaru Denver."

Grey nodded, and swept his hair back. "Yeah, okay." He stepped into the room Lucy pointed at. The entire building was kept rather cool so the models wouldn't sweat their art off. There was a rather comfortable looking black padded table that the model would lie on while he painted their front, then they would sit up, and eventually stand as he finished up. A smaller, round table was sitting beside it, where he put his bag.

Once he was ready, he was given a loose silk robe to conceal his nudity while walking to another part of the studio. When done up, it didn't leave much up to the imagination and he blushed slightly as he walked past men and women ogling him. Even another model blinked in his direction, though she soon was looking at him enviously. He often heard females complaining, that a man looked better than they did. He didn't ask to be this way, and the hateful comments hurt.

He was led to another part of the studio by a young woman. She seemed to be some sort of PA, but seemed nice. She made pleasant conversation, but he only answered by nodding or shrugging. He wasn't very good at talking and usually his mother did it for him. He was taken to a small room, just off where the photo shoots were. Inside was a padded table and a man, who was busy with his paints. Hikaru regarded the artist, thinking that he seemed nice enough. He also didn't look like the type to take advantage of their privacy.

"Grey, this is Hikaru. I'll leave you with him." She smiled and looked at Hikaru. "Don't worry, you'll be fine." She must have sensed his apprehension. He nodded and entered the room, the door closing behind him.

Before bothering with his paints, Grey went to a shelf nearby and pulled a white towel down, drying his hair of the rainwater and shrugging out of his black jacket. At least it had kept his shirt dry. Going around to the lighting arrangements, Grey checked to make sure they were in working order and wouldn't change or heat the room, then stepped back to his bag to begin removing his jars and paintbrushes, sponges, plates, and water. He didn't use palettes, though it might be easier than buying hundreds more paper plates than the average person did on a weekly basis. But he'd started on paper and old habits did die hard.

When the door opened, Grey glanced up, then did a doubletake. He'd not necessarily known what to expect but it must not have been what came through the door. Sleek, elegant, pale, and so obviously uncomfortable, it was definitely Hikaru. When Lucy spoke, he nodded and smiled as she saw herself out. He had expected someone of Asian descent but this was most definitely not it. He certainly outranked most models he had worked with. Grey brushed his hair back.

"Hey, thanks for coming. I arrived a bit late, so I tried to warm the paint up enough so it doesn't shock you. Have... you ever done this particular type of modeling before?" The way he looked in that barely-there robe wasn't a way a usual held themselves. He looked... awkward.

Hikaru shook his head slightly, and looked at the paints curiously. He had always wanted to try it, of course. When it was first brought up, he didn't need his mother to tell Geoff how much fun it sounded. Even if he did feel... Strange and awkward. He had been feeling a sense of dread coming to the studio, but Grey seemed so nice and professional. He may have done a double-take when Hikaru came in, but he wasn't staring lustfully at him. It made him feel comfortable. "Will it tickle?" he asked, hating his girly voice.

Grey laughed a bit. "Tickle? I guess it depends on how ticklish you are. I'm going to do a base coat first, though, so you won't be specifically in contact with the smaller brushes. It won't be bad, but you'll have to lie pretty still. And I'll be covering... all of you, so I hope you're ready for that. I've done it plenty before though, no worries. I won't be poking around where I don't belong." He chuckled, glancing up at the young man and gesturing to the table. He had such a soft, light voice. "Whenever you're ready."

Hikaru nodded and took the robe off, switching off from the usual embarrassment someone would have in the situation. He knew that his size was very small for someone his age, and most men would rather die than show another man their undersized genitalia, but he had learnt at a young age to go into an almost, dream-like state. He laid on his back, staring up at he ceiling as Grey came over to start painting. Hikaru felt like saying something, but didn't know what to say, so stayed quiet.

Grey mixed the base sponge in the jar of deep blue paint he'd been stirring to loosen up. For the time being he would work on the front, so he would only place the base on the front of the model. Later he would add more of the base as more flesh came to be at his disposal. As he stroked the sponge over pale skin, darkening it to a deep, inky blue, he muttered nonsensically to himself. It helped to cut the silence with mutterings, so his mind didn't wander. "I suppose you're more of a clothing model." He said specifically as he worked. "I mean, you seem more comfortable covered up is what I meant." He spent a bit more time on the hands and feet, which needed double the work because they were exposed to the most wear.

Hikaru wiggled his toes slightly when his feet were being done, suppressing a giggle. He considered the comment, weighing his options on how he could reply to it. He decided to be truthful. "I do mainly clothes, but some nude things too. I don't mind it... I just... Well..." No, he couldn't mention that. The way he was used and tossed aside like a dirty piece of meat. Shivers went up his skin and he blushed slightly. "I'm not used to being touched like this... I mean... Without someone wanting something..."

Grey smiled a little, finishing up his feet and twisting the top back onto the jar. Then he used a smoother sponge to even out the color a bit and make it lighter where it needed to be. Then he scowled. "Wanting something? Ugh, don't elaborate, I think I know what you mean." Some people were disgusting, Grey thought bitterly as he opened other jars and got to work on mixing colors. And what could he do? Not much. He didn't want to ask about Hikaru's love life. His own didn't even exist nowadays.

Hikaru nodded slightly, sighing and relaxing himself further. The paint was only a little cold, and the sponge felt strange, like a tongue running up and down his body. He wondered what he would look like at the end of the painting. He didn't even know what the shoot was for, he barely knew what any of the photos being taken of him were for. He didn't bother to ask. He didn't really care.

Grey kept the paint at a constant, ending the edge of the base at Hikaru's collarbones. Then he went around and found the jar the base was kept in, and several brushes. Two were flat, one more narrow than the other, and one was very small, a pen-brush he tended to label it. Pulling up a stool that was the same height as the table Hikaru laid on, he started filling in the rest of his neck and drawing gentle, sweeping lines up to decorate his face, like smoky tendrils. "This might feel odd. If you feel anything prickling, it's just the ends of the brush. Let me know if you get uncomfortable and we'll take a bit of a break."

"It's just a little ticklish," Hikaru replied, trying not to squirm. It was also strange, having a man's face hovering over his. A man fully clothed while he was naked. Why was he blushing? He closed his eyes and tried to remain still as he heard a knocking on the door. His mother entered, obviously bored from shopping and waiting. She clapped her hands with excitement.

"Oh, you look wonderful, Walt," she crooned, coming closer to admire the paintwork. "Mr Bessette, your work is amazing." Hikaru opened his eyes and glared at his mother. Why did she have to always be around? And he knew that tone of voice. She was hitting on Grey.

Grey glanced up at the door when someone knocked. Usually it was either Lucy or the parent or friend of the model he was currently working on that entered without permission, or at all, and when he saw the woman, there was little doubt in his mind that she was Hikaru's mother. Although the name made him wonder. Walt? Was that a middle name? Grey kept a small smile on his face to avoid it breaking into a grin, and cleaned the flat brush before exchanging it for the pen-brush.

"Thank you, miss." He said lightly. "I'm always glad to meet a fan of what I do, I put so much work into just one creation." And his creations were often featured all over the world. He was asked to develop body skins for movies, do intricate makeup, and handle special effects because of his skill with a paintbrush and just about any liquid-based medium.

"Oh yes, I've seen some of your works, and that is why I let my boy be painted by you. Not many people have that privileged," she glanced at Hikaru and scowled at the way he glared. "A son doesn't look like that towards his mother. Besides, you'll get wrinkles Walt." Hikaru closed his eyes and blushed again. He wondered what Grey thought about how he was ruled by his mother. He was a man, and should have the ability to say no, to push her away. But he just couldn't.

Finishing one of the delicate tendrils that snaked its way up Hikaru's cheek, Grey sat up straight and stretched his arms above his head. "Well, I guess I should say thanks instead, hmm?" He grinned at the woman, glancing down at how Hikaru seemed to be completely embarrassed. "But I've got to ask you not to speak to him until I'm finished. I need no distractions for either of us or I'll have to redo quite a bit of work." And the last thing he needed was the model's mother making him uneased in any way. That, and he just wanted to save the poor guy from an apparently overbearing woman.

His mother nodded and grinned. "I'll be waiting outside for you, Walt. There's a handsome young man I've got my eye on." She giggled and left the room, letting Hikaru breathe. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath. He looked up at Grey, wanting to smile in relief, but knew not to move his face as the man was painting it.

"Thank you."

Grey rolled his eyes as the door closed, smirking and working along Hikaru's jaw. Pausing to dampen the brush again, he nodded and glanced up at the door again. "No problem. I know that look." He laughed, starting on the young model's chin. "Overbearing parents and everything. Thought I should give you a break from her if anything. She seems like the controlling type." He shrugged a little, as if it were only a passing comment. But he'd studied the woman quite specifically. She did have that controlling vibe.

Controlling... Yes, she was. And Hikaru didn't have the balls to tell her no. He did what she told him and that was how he became a model. All he wanted was to be an artist... Like Grey. "Do you do anything else other than painting on naked people?" he asked. "I can sculpt, you see. I usually use clay though... Nothing special." His mother certainly didn't think it was special.

Grey shrugged one shoulder, finishing the ragged edges into Starry Night-style swirls, and capped the blue paint. "I actually do traditional art too. Oil paints mostly, they're richer and deeper on canvas. I like to sketch, too, I've done some graphic novel style things that I never really tried to get published... I guess I do this instead of the usual fashion design because it's so much more interesting." He busied himself with other tones and colors, then found the handheld fan that would dry what base was already on Hikaru's body. "Not interesting? Bah, don't say that. I never could do clay, and a lot of artists are the same. Not too many can form clay to their exact specifications... I'd actually like to see sometime, if that's okay..." It was his artist's curiosity, hoping to get a glimpse of what another could do with their preferred medium.

Hikaru closed his eyes and sighed, staring into his eyelids. He thought about what he could sculpt next. He had finished one of a flower, but his mother had thrown it out saying that it was no good. He had secretly got it out of the trash, and hid it in a part of his room no one knew about. "I'd like you to see it..."