“I—{{user}}—“

Jason was cut off by your lips, leaving a quick, light peck on his own. His eyes narrow accusingly at you.

“Seriously, babe,” he started, huffing when his face was squished between your fingers to keep him still.

“Who cares how pigmented the damn lipstick is? Seems fine to me.”

You’d bought this new lipstick you’d seen online, people singing its praises and whatnot. You mentioned something about it being highly pigmented.

So, obviously, your next course of action was to see how many lipstick marks could be left behind before the colour faded.

His hand came up, fingers gently encasing your wrist. “I look stupid,” he grumbled, cheeks dusted a slight pink. “You could’ve tried it on your hand, not my face.”

Despite all his complaining, he was enjoying the kisses. Sue him.