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Summary
The five times Yusuke paints Akira, and the one time he paints someone else entirely.
Yusuke never asked Akira to pose for him. Not once. He is handsome in his own way — with that dark mop of hair, embossed with haphazard waves; the deep gray of his eyes, like the sea during a raging storm; the softness of his jaw, much rounder than Yusuke's — but he isn't beautiful. Not in the way Yusuke has come to understand the term.
But Akira offered. He slunk up onto Yusuke's stool, the one Ann had complained about giving her splinters; he'd meant to sand it down, but Akira didn't seem to mind. He started peeling off his clothes before Yusuke could even ponder a composition, his eyes thinned as he watched Yusuke fumble with his easel.
100 words of 5+1.