Suggestive :P
Gaz didn’t know you were into art.
You didn’t know Gaz was into art.
So running into each other at your local open studio during leave was a pleasant surprise. For you.
You were excited that you shared a hobby. You had just looked up this studio online and decided to give it a shot, having previously opted for more of a private approach to learning. But you’d hit a snag with perfecting your anatomy, and you heard from an art friend that nude drawing really helped them, so here you were! You excitedly explained this to Kyle as he sat there listening, getting increasingly more fidgety.
When you asked him how he heard of the studio, and how long he’d been going, and how often he did art, and if he found the nude art to help his understanding of anatomy, he sort of skirted around the questions. A little odd, but some people can get weird about the whole drawing-someone-naked thing. You didn’t blame him. You just kept setting up and chatting away until it was almost time to start. Only then did you notice Kyle wasn’t setting up his station.
“Don’t you need to get set up? It’s about to start I think,” you share your concern.
He rubs at the back of his neck while slowly backing off, “right! Yeah…ha, I should go…do that.” He skitters away.
Odd, you were hoping he’d want to sit with you but oh well, maybe he really was just weird about nudity.
You start sketching a bit of a frame of the room while you wait for the model, distracted when they finally walk in.
So when you look up to find Kyle stripping a robe off and taking perch on the stand chosen for today…your jaw drops and your pencil clatters to the floor.
Kyle…is the nude model. I mean, damn yeah, you get it. He’s pretty. Like really pretty. And you knew that…about his face. But now it is farrr beyond safe to say the same about his body.
He was chiseled, like. Everywhere. And his skin was so smooth, with just a hint of hair on his lower stomach, and…lower than that was…nice too. Very nice. The way the directed light reflected off his body and perfectly contoured him made your brain break a little.
You realize you’re getting dirty looks. Right! Ogling the nude model is like totally against the customs of nude drawing! Be professional!
You snap your mouth closed and quickly pick up your pencil. You start sketching on autopilot, still thinking more about your coworker sitting in front of you naked than anything your hand is doing.
Every once in a while when you glance up to adjust your sketch, you meet his eyes. At first, he looks away quickly, as if bashful. You can’t imagine he’s normally this shy if he’s frequently modeling nude, but the prospect of his battle buddy seeing him like this is probably off-putting. Eventually though, you think he gets back into his groove. Instead of looking away, he’s staring directly at you. Chin tilted down and looking at you through his lashes. It’s hard to draw. Your heart races the whole time.
Eventually, the class is coming to an end and your sketch is being rounded out. Kyle gets off his pedestal (you try to rationalize your disappointment), re-robes, and approaches you.
“Can I uhh, take a peak,” he motions to your paper he’s behind.
“Oh! Yes, feels only fair.” Okay why did you say that. Because now you’re thinking about him being naked again.
He rounds the canvas, looking intently at your work. It’s intimidating. But if he just modeled nude for you, you think you can survive this vulnerability.
“You added my freckles. Didn’t think you could see them from here.” He observes offhandedly.
“Couldn’t,” you try to shrug nonchalantly, “just knew you had ‘em.”
There’s silence for a moment.
“You did good.” He says softly.
“Thanks. You too—“ you slap your hand over your mouth. Can you even say that?
He laughs loudly, “that’s okay, thank you. It’s harder than it looks.”
You watch everyone pack up for a moment before you decide to address the elephant in the room.
“Soooo…how’d you get into…” you try to sound casual and fail.
He laughs again, probably more for your sake than out of any actual amusement. He’s good like that. “Would you believe me if I said they saw me walking past and pulled me off the street to ask?” He probably meant it as a joke but—
“Yes.” You reply, probably too quickly. And then freak out again, “I just meant! You’re pretty. That’s not—it’s pretty obvious.” You’re shutting up now. Please shut up now.
“Thank you.” He smiles that smile he has. The soft and sweet one that makes all the old ladies coo and probably causes angels to sprout wings. “And uh, if you don’t mind…could you maybe, not mention this to the rest of the team? They’d never let me live it down.”
You agree immediatley, “‘Course! Scouts honor.” You hold up the solute. You were never a scout.
He can probably tell you’re freaking out, so he blessedly tells you he has to go, and that he’ll see you after leave. You just give an awkward goodbye and try to hold it together until he’s gone. Then you slam your head on your art stand, probably smearing charcoal all over your forehead. You cannot believe that just happened. And now you practically own a nude of Garrick!
You should probably burn it.
You’re not going to burn it.
