Dishevelled Breakdown

* * *

"Oh, honestly," Dead End sighed. "Do you really want to die looking like that?"

Breakdown brushed awkwardly at the grey soot-like streaks in his pale armor. Not that his hands did much of anything but draw attention with their movement; the grey was well and truly mixed with his paint. "It's no big deal. No one's going to notice."

"Of course not. Your thighs and sides regularly turn grey after all." The Porsche shook his head.

Shoulders hunching, Breakdown sidled towards the door. At least it wasn't Drag Strip, he told himself. The racecar would be even worse about the whole thing. But why couldn't it have been Wildrider? He might have noticed, but at least he would let Breakdown distract him onto another topic.

Evidently taking pity on his brother, Dead End patted the bench next to him. "Sit down."

"Nh?"

"Sit down. I still have some paint in your colors... I think."

Breakdown's fingers twitched. Dead End preferred to use a brush to apply paint, even though he could have requested an airbrush. An airbrush would probably have been easier, too, but there was something very... different about the feel of a brush. Especially when it was flicking lightly at your thighs. "... All right."

End

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