"And I'm sure you're guilty of a good number of them," he said, straightening out the frilly apron with a shake so that he could admire it properly. It was a monstrosity; cruel to do to such a handsome and cool creature. He should feel more guilty about doing this after Anthony was so sweet bringing flowers and coming all the way out here. Instead he held it up against the front of Anthony's chest as if checking the sizing and tried not to think about how absolutely devastatingly handsome he would be in a regular painter's apron or smock, sleeves rolled up, a daub of paint on his chin--

Just thwarting his wiles, really.

"Well--it's all we have," he offered as a sort of apology, smoothing the frilly pinafore out over that nice red shirt. "I admit it isn't your color, but I would hate to for you ruin your nice clothes before I've had a chance at ruining them."