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Roberts houseparty the second, but this time everyone brings their own can of paint and a brush.
The evening is spent painting Roberts walls, ruining the few pieces of furniture he has. Because the team takes the whole thing serious for maybe ten minutes, before the whole thing escalates into a paint war ala splatoon style.
Once everybodies cans are empty they take turns cleaning up in Roberts bathroom, leaving some coloured finger- and footprints there as well. The whole apartment reeks heavily of paint, despite Roberts attempts at airing everything out.
"Bitch, don't you have a cleaning brush or something?", Chad is the first one to complain, scratching at some dried paint on his face. That the rest of his body is a colourful mess seemed to bother him less than the blob of purple, where Courtney of all people managed to catch him offguard.
"I have one for Beef?", Robert offers from where he is currently trying to gently get some paint out of the dogs fur. He had to spent most of the time the others were painting holding onto him, otherwise the dog would have eaten the paint for sure.
"Do I look like a dog?", Chad grumbles at that, making space for one of the girls to use the mirror.
"Hmm... so you don't want me to call you 'good boy'?", Robert muses with a grin, watching Chad sputter.
"Keep the kinky shit to yourself, I don't wanna know what you call this flaming fuck in the bedroom.", Chase is the first to intervene, his grey hair now freckled like rainbow sprinkles. He takes the chance to rub some paint into Roberts hair as well.
"We're not fucking!!!", Chad exclaims with a dignified gasp.
"Yet.", Alice comes up to them with a smirk, elbowing Chad in the side. Her loose shirt held a good amount of deep red, purple, silver and bright blues.
"What?! I bet you two were fucking for sure by now!", Courtney calls from the bathroom, bathed from head to toe in almost every colour.
"Maybe we should change- switch topics?", Herman adds on from the shower, still dripping with diluted paints.
"I have read recently that the colour red has more positive than negative connotations. Basic colour theory.", Janelle pipes up from the kitchen sink.
"Sweet!", Mal exclaims with a triumphant fist, covered mostly in black, purple and silver.
"I dunno.", Colm appears from behind the counter with a frown. "It still looks like ye dragged a bloody body over the floor.", he muses, looking at the deep-red streaks of paint.
"Well, it adds to the asthetic! And I still think its better than black.", Mal frowns at that.
"Hey, that colour goes great with the brighter ones!", Colm raises his fist at her.
"Technically, black isn't even a colour.", Victor inserts himself into the argument. "Its not part of the visible spectrum of light and therefore simply the abscence of light.", he explains from where he is taking pictures of a very colourful Bruno.
"Is this really gonna work?", Bruno asks from where he is posing.
"Trust me Bro, the people love seeing stuff like this! We're gonna be rich in no time!", Victor assures him. "We could even open an innovative art exhibit-".
Mandy kicks the door open, huffing under the weight of a casket of beers, three shopping bags and a backpack. "I may have... overestimated... how much I can carry...", she explains between gasps for breath, barely managing to put the beer down without simply letting it fall.
"Wasn't Katon supposed to go with you?", Robert is quick to take some of the weight off her hands.
"Okay so... I may have... lost him...", Mandy leans against the wall and slides to the floor, leaving a trace on the not quite dried paint.
"How do you loose a wardrobe like that?", Chase offers her a drink, which she gratefully accepts.
"I told him to get something that will help with cleaning everyone up and he just... flew out of the store and disappeared.", she groans to herself.
"That sounds like we don't wanna be here when he gets back.", Robert chuckles at that.
"So... party at Chads place?", Courtney is quick to suggest.
"What? No fucking way!", Chad frowns at her.
"Loosers can't be choosers.", Victor joins in.
"Loose? I didn't loose! If anything-".
"No one likes a sore looser. And I absolutely got you good!".
"Says the one covered from head to toe in fucking paint! If anything, you are the loser here!".
"Hey, you all ganged up on me! That was so not fair!".
"...should we intervene?", Mandy asks from where she is watching the argument.
"Nah, if they wanna fight, let them fight.", Chase grumbles, getting himself a beer as well.
"As long as they don't make another mess...", Robert shrugs, still smiling fondly.
The rest of the paint-party goes off without a hitch, people eventually leaving one after another. At this point, Roberts apartment is illuminated by all the different lamps still standing around. He never had the heart to put any one of it away.
Beef is snoring softly on his little bed, tired out from all the theatrics today.
Robert lets his gaze sweep over the colours, seeing where everyone had tried to add their own touch, some paintings having fallen victim to the paint war. It was vibrant and lively and frankly, a damn fucking mess, but he would never have it any other way.
Robert looks back at the last unopened can of paint, a rich green. Perhaps Chad was more perceptive than he had thought. And the lamp being his favorite colour was no coincidence, after all. Why else would the man have reserved this colour specifically for him?
With a sigh Robert gets to work, prying the can open with a screwdriver that was still laying around. He finds his personal paintbrush miraculously unharmed, getting to work with adding his own colour, just like he had promised he would.
He tries not to disturb any of the others artworks, weaving the green inbetween, setting accents and the like. He's never really had the time for art, so he doesn't even attempt trying to do anything big.
Its when he is trying to reach a far up spot, stretching himself long against the wall, that his idle painting gets interrupted.
"Need some help?", Chad smirks, leaning an arm against the open balcony slide. He looks far cleaner than earlier, dabbed out in new clothes even.
"No, I think I'm fine.", Robert deadpans, renewing his attempt of spontanously gaining a few inches.
"Tch.", Chad scoffs at that, stepping into the room. "Don't be so stubborn and lemme help.", he argues, sidling up behind him.
Robert almost expects him to just grab the brush from his hand, but instead there are warm hands on his waist, who give him just a moment to adjust before lifting him up.
"I said I'm fine.", Robert huffs, finally reaching the spot he had wanted to colour.
"Thats not how you say 'thank you Chad for helping me and my small normie body, what would I do without you?', Bitch.", Chad complains with an audible smirk in his voice.
"Ohhh yes, what would I DO without you...", Robert rolls his eyes, relieved to be set down again. He turns around to meet Chads gaze, finding it just as intense as he imagined. Robert raises his brush to place a green spot on the mans face.
"BITCH! I just cleaned up!!!", Chad grumbles, grabbing the offending hand that just did this to him.
"Oh? And here I thought you came back to make a mess?", Robert smiles mischiviously. Flirting with Chad was funny, always so quick to turn the man into a blushing mess. And well, he had learned to deal with nothing ever coming of it.
As predicted Chad just scoffs and looks away. But he doesn't let go.
"Maybe... maybe I did.", he mumbles, eyes flickering while flitting back and forth.
"What?", it was now Roberts turn to be caught off guard. Which was perhaps his first, but certainly not last, mistake of the night.
Because Roberts display of genuine surprise seemed to give Chad some confidence back. "Thats right. I came to make a mess.", he boasts, crowding Robert against the wall. "You in for that?", Chad breathes in the shortening space between them.
"I thought you'd never ask.", Robert admits breathlessly, closing the space between them. Which was perhaps his second mistake, but he was too busy to care about that now.
So, if the space on the wall, right next to Chads depiction of a flaming bird, is littered with green handprints and what looks suspiciously like the silhouette of a person, who is Robert to complain? He will just never host a house party ever again.