#I may paint some of these eventually when I have the time & cofidence

[deadofnightstudio]

Deercember Week One: Garden (prompt link)

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you please write about Robbe being a model for Sander's class at the Academy and drawing everyone's attention? Sander is trying to act cool although he is jealous when his friends flirt with him, so he asks Robbe out first chance he gets and finds out that others did too but Robbe had declined because he liked him?

A piece of pencil hits his paper, scarring the white space a little bit leaving a dent where, thankfully, Sander doesn’t have to draw any lines. He puffs, dropping his pencil on the holder of his easel under his canvas. He looks to the left, to where the pencil came from.

“He’s an actual fucking model! So hot!” Bert mouths, but Sander is sure other people heard it in the middle of the silence being interrupted just by soft sounds of pencils scrapping paper, calm breaths,, and some steps here and there, trying to get the proportions and positions right.

Sander doesn’t say anything or Bert won’t ever stop talking when they should be quiet, working on their projects.

But he’s not wrong. The boy in front of them, surrounded by all his colleagues, is a piece of art of his own. Everyone should draw, paint, portrait him because the world deserves to see someone so magical and beautiful.

Robin, Sander still remembers the name their teacher said almost an hour ago when the boy was still standing up and with all his oversized clothes on, smiling while being introduced, a lot more comfortable than he is now, sitting on a wooden chair, completely naked, clearly posing with his arms sort of hanging in between his legs, resting against his lean thighs to keep everyone from seeing him completely at all times.

Sander can’t help but look around him, noticing how some girls and boys keep their eyes on Robin for a little too long every time they need to check some detail. How Robin’s fingers keep twitching every once in a while, how he clenches his jaw when the attention starts to get a little too much.

This is all types of wrong, but Sander can’t stop thinking about kissing him. Not real kiss, just gently press their lips together, see how his lips feel, if they’re as soft as it seems. Maybe Robin would hug him and Sander would gladly carry him anywhere.

Sander puts his pencil down again, grabbing the tiny stand where all his pencils are, feeling the thin layer of the black dust he’s creating with all the sketching now stick to his tired and stiff fingers. It’s hard to focus when Robin’s doe, anxious eyes stop on him. Sander can’t not look back because he wants Robin to look at him, to know Sander is looking back, paying more attention than he needs to.

Robin tilts his head with bright, excited eyes like a puppy would when trying to imitate someone else’s movements. Sander bites the inside of his cheek, trying and failing ridiculously at not smiling, looking down to at least not be that much creepier.

“Sander!” The background whisper gets louder and he looks at Bert again, talking behind his easel so nobody else will hear him or understand what he’s saying, “I’m gonna get his number.”

“What? No, you’re not!”

“Five more minutes everyone!” The teacher interrupts them with his low, boring voice and Sander holds himself from rolling his eyes.

One hour per week will never be enough. Sander needs more time, to actually say at least a hello to the boy. And that’ll get so much harder if Bert does it too. He wants this boy to know he exists, and that he’s willing to do anything to go out with him. Doesn’t need to be a date if he’s not interested. Sander will listen to whatever Robin has to say over a boring coffee if that’s what it takes.

“Why not?” Sander tries to clean his fingertips against the back of his easel, pressing it hard, holding the wood for a second, dragging his fingertips to clean better to try and work a little more on his drawing before the class ends. He’s been working on this even in his free time, definitely spending more time than anyone else on this one drawing, for one class.

“Because…” Sander wets his lips with his tongue, focusing his attention on the little bump right on the top of Robin’s nose, making it wider and then a sharp, perfect line to the tip.

Because he has the most perfect face and body and you don’t deserve all of that. I do.

“Stop being weird! He’s just trying to help us.” Sander says instead, frowning, and looking at Bert for a second, so behind with his drawing.

“That’s even worse! Because he’s like what? In his first year? And we’re in our third! And I’ve seen you shirtless, bro. He...doesn’t even compare.”

The teachers claps his hands like he always does when they’ve ran out of time and Sander drops his pencil, jumping with the realization that the five minutes they had flew by. 

He’s sure nothing in this universe compares to the boy quickly grabbing his robe from the floor, putting it back on before talking to the teacher, Sander can’t hear from where they’re standing. Bert is already throwing his things inside his bag, and when Sander looks at their model, he’s already looking back at Sander. Their teacher is talking to some students a few steps to the side and Robin is there, on his own, like he’s asking Sander to go talk to him already.

He knows how these moments go, they don’t have much time because usually everyone wants to talk to the model, to ask maybe for some tips, to look at them closely like they’re some piece of art in a museum, trying to get their details saved for the next class before anyone else can like it’s a race.

He probably gets so many numbers thrown at him so easily in those conversations. Fuck, fuck fuck!

Somehow, Sander drags himself to the center of the circle, holding the strap of his heavy bag, trying to ground himself, feeling a little bit exposed, surrounded by easels all around them, standing on that tiny stage with just Robin, wearing his robe.

“Hi…” Robin starts and Sander swallows hard not to whine because even his voice is perfect. It’s so excruciatingly soothing, a little raspy when he starts talking but Sander tries to think it’s understandable, sitting one hour, naked in front of everyone, not really talking.

“Hey…” Sander tries not to be that person, to stare at every piece of Robbe’s bare skin in search for more details now that they’re here, up close. But his eyes go down a little, watching his clavicule, his long neck, his loose hair kinda messy, seeming like a cloud above his head, “Hm, I’m so sorry for this, if this makes you uncomfortable in any way, but...would like to go get a coffee?” 

He feels his eyebrows frowning, his eyes a little closed, so embarrased for once to be asking someone out so bluntly like this, in broad daylight, inside their college.

“Right now?” He asks a little surprised, and the way he sounds makes Sander look up at him, worried he really crossed a line he shouldn’t be crossing.

“No? Whatever you want, I mean. Today or any other day, whenever you’re free. I’m sorry.”

“No, hm, I want to.” Robin says softly, a little shy, and Sander melts completely, smiling without meaning to.

“You do?” He asks to make sure, hoping Robin understands he can say no and it’ll be completely fine.

“Yes. Of course.” The boy says of course more cofidently, and Sander is surprised by it, needing a second while staring at him to let those words and his tone really sit inside of him. Of course.

Sander is certain nobody else was ever this sure to want to spend time with him. Especially when they barely know each other, just spending a few hours together every week but without exchanging a word before this conversation.

“To be completely honest,” Robin starts, and Sander looks back up to at his rounded brown eyes instantly, interested in hearing anything the boy has to say, “I’ve been waiting a while.” 

Sander is not really following anymore, but Robin apparently can read his mind, and he explains, “For you to come talk to me. Even better if to invite me for a coffee.”

He blinks a few times, going back to every class he had with Robin as a model, looking for signs he may have ignored that this was something the boy wanted too. 

Sander just can’t believe his luck, “I’m sorry...I didn’t come before then.” 

He tries again like Robbe is a warm cup of tea and Sander doesn’t know if the temperature is cold enough to drink, but still warm enough to make him happy. 

“It’s okay. What matters is that you did eventually.”