Davin grins and pulls the guy over towards the bar, tugging a stool out and hopping onto it, displaying his broad back with its slightly tanned, freckled skin. "Aye, wouldn't want ya t'make a mess. I'm Davin, by the way."

He flags down the bartender and pulls out his own bottle of paint so he has a choice of colors. He's actually excited, because he's drunk and keyed up enough to know that the brush is going to feel amazing on his skin. And it's been wielded by a hot guy, so it's a win win. The bartender comes over and Davin pulls out his wallet, ordering himself a whiskey. "An' whatever the artist over here is havin', on me."