Chapter Text
English is a nice class. Thomas would agree. It’s something he’s good at too, and it’s also one of the many classes that he shares with Alexander. But he’s bored. It’s hard to find a time when he isn’t, really.
He finishes solving the Rubik’s cube and unceremoniously tosses it on top of James’s desk. James picks it up, mildly entertained with how fast Thomas is able to do something like this. James owns the damn thing, and hasn’t even figured out how to do it himself in the eight years that he’s had it, and yet Thomas only needed a few hours of practice to completely master it.
“That was like ten seconds. What’s your record, anyway?” James asks, curious to know what Thomas’s true potential is. Ten seconds is already faster than he’s ever seen anyone else do, but he’s sure that his best friend can take it even further than that, being the type of person he is.
“Seven, eight, maybe?” Thomas shrugs, absentmindedly scrambling the cube again. “That was like a year ago, and I lost the paper that I had it written down on. It wasn’t scrambled well anyway, so it might’ve been easier than usual.”
“That’s still extremely impressive, though.” James compliments, taking the gadget from Thomas’s hands and changing up the colors even more. He might not be a master solver, but he sure is a master at messing things up.
Thomas rolls his eyes, grabbing his notebook instead. He always keeps a stash of copy paper in the back, wedged in between the final line paper and cardboard cover. He reserves these for drawing when he’s bored.
Right now seems like a perfect time, so he looks around the room, wondering what would be a good subject to sketch. His eyes land on the teacher’s desk, but it seems too cluttered for him to be able to make out the details in a drawing. His next option is the clock, but it poses too little of a challenge for him. He needs something more meaningful.
He could look around in his backpack for an item to serve as a reference, or… he could use a person. He usually refrains from drawing people, because they move around a lot and aren’t reliable sources, but he could make an exception this time.
He has a few sketches of people… or rather just one person. Most of the time, James isn’t too interested in knowing what he draws, but for the few times that he has asked, Thomas lies about these particular pages. He comes up with something random, saying that he’s making an outline of the potted plant in the corner or shading in the colors of the chairs, but the truth is, he draws Alexander. He takes his time filling in the shades of his rich chocolate eyes or his messy mop of dark hair. He likes to draw him from a side view, but this is due to the positions of their seats. He can’t see much more than just a profile of Alex. Not that he’s complaining, though. It makes it easy for him to just straight up stare at Alex without the younger kid noticing.
Alex has a laptop out in front of him, and his hair is tied back into that cute messy ponytail that Thomas has always longed to fix up. His eyes are glued to the screen, and he bites his lip lightly in concentration. It makes for a perfect drawing.
Thomas only manages to get a line on his paper before James abruptly hands the Rubik’s cube back to him.
“Here, try this. I made it extra scrambled.” James declares, certain that it would be difficult for Thomas.
Thomas rolls his eyes, but accepts the challenge. “You make it sound like you’re making eggs.”
“Solve it in under twenty seconds and I’ll actually make you some eggs after school,” James throws back.
“I’ll do it, but not for your cooking. We both know that I make better food than you, whether it be pasta or cake,” Thomas smirks, setting his notebook down so he can grab it with both hands.
James huffs, looking at his watch. “I’ll tell you when to start. It’ll be timed by me.”
As soon as the second hand hits ‘12’, James gives the signal, and Thomas doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands move expertly, moving and arranging the squares back into place. He’s done this many times before, and he knows the tips and tricks for speeding up the process. James watches him intently as the colors shift, observing how he sometimes moves a tile out of place only to bring it back with another in the correct position.
When the cube hits the table again, Thomas caps off at 17 seconds, and leans back in his chair. All he wants to do is draw, really. At least get something down before Alex switches position.
James smiles at him, but Thomas isn’t paying much attention to him anymore. He quickly draws the general shape of Alex’s hair and face, trying to get the main points down before adding detail. He adds in the laptop as well.
Thomas’s favorite thing about art is that there’s no right or wrong. You could literally splash paint carelessly across a canvas and call it art, and people would buy it. It’s not like math or history, where the answer is straightforward. It’s more like writing, where you can be creative and come up with your own approach.
Even so, he doesn’t enjoy showing his work to random passersby, so he has a way of setting his belongings around his desk to shield it from the other students. It’s not like they notice him much anyway, but he makes sure to take precautions.
He drapes his sweater over the page slightly before continuing. James is focused on his essay again, so he has time to himself.
He traces over the light strokes with more finalized lines. Alex sits beside the wall on the opposite side of the room, and there are a few posters behind him. Thomas takes this in mind and makes a few vague rectangles behind his rendition of Alex. His backgrounds are usually to add ambiance to the drawing, not to distract from the main subject.
Thomas wonders if he should add color, but decides that his cheap colored pencils wouldn’t do. Shading would be much better for something like this.
He starts on the hair, creating texture with his pencil. The loose strands that fall around Alex’s face are his favorite to do. Imperfections are what make people stand out, and Alex has a ton of them. It makes him interesting, far more extraordinary than Thomas. Thomas might have the perfect family and be seen as someone worthy of praise, but he really isn’t. He’s not special, but Alex is.
“Whatcha doing?” James blurts out, suddenly hovering over Thomas’s workspace. Thomas startles, snapping the pencil lead. He covers his paper with his arms.
“James!” Thomas hisses, elbowing him. “You scared me.”
“Ow! Sorry!” James exclaims, falling back into his seat and rubbing his arm. “Are you drawing?”
“Yes.” Thomas says tersely. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing your work?”
“I just finished. What are you drawing?”
“My shoes. May I draw in peace now, please?” Thomas asks, slightly irritated.
“Ooh. I’ve been trying to expand my skills, so can I do that too and then we compare drawings?” James asks, clearly bored enough to latch onto anything he can participate in.
Thomas would say yes, but the tiny problem here is that he wasn’t actually drawing his shoes. He racks his brain for an excuse and realizes the time. “There’s only five minutes left of class, are you sure you want to take on such a task?”
“Oh, you’re right. Another time, then.” James agrees. “Can I at least see yours, though?”
Thomas sighs, reaching for his pencil sharpener. “No.”
“Why not?”
“My work is too beautiful for your eyes.” Thomas jokes, looking smug.
“Fine.” James gives in, leaving Thomas alone.
Thomas doesn’t think much about it, although he should’ve known that James wouldn’t relent so quickly. As soon as he returns to his notebook, James peeks over his shoulder again. Thomas tries to whack him with this pencil, and he does, but that was after James had already seen the artwork.
“Is that Hamilton?!” He whisper-yells, looking at Thomas with wide eyes.
“Shut up!” Thomas whispers back, giving him a threatening look. “Not a word. To anyone.”
“So that’s a yes?” James whispers, breaking into a grin. “Thomas! It’s taken you seventeen years of your life, and you don’t tell me when you have your first crush?”
“Not my crush!” Thomas throws a highlighter, trying to hit his best friend with it. It misses him by an inch and nearly flings onto the kid behind him. Luckily, it doesn’t, and the other person doesn’t show any signs of having noticed the chaos.
“Sure, whatever you say,” James says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I’ll tell him if you don’t, you know.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Watch me.”
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
“Alex!” James calls out, not quite loud enough to draw attention from the entire class, but louder than the chattering in the room, and definitely loud enough for Alex to look over.
“James!” Thomas claps his hand over his mouth. “Why would you do that?!”
James grabs Thomas’s wrist and pulls it off. “As your best friend, it is my duty to help you.”
Thomas glances at Alex and sees him mouth ‘what’ from a distance. He feels the humiliation starting to creep up on him, so he lightly shoves James in a lack of things to do. James just shrugs and gestures to Alex. Thomas turns back to Alex and shakes his head, trying to dismiss it as a false alarm. Alex seems to be satisfied with this, because he goes back to typing.
“Don’t do that again,” Thomas warns James.
“I can’t promise anything. You have to tell him at some point.”
“I…” Thomas cards his fingers through his hair, stressed. “Might. Just let me think about this for now, okay?”
“Okay. You don’t have forever, though,” James tells him, right as the dismissal bell rings.
“I know…” Thomas mumbles, grabbing his things. He doesn’t know what to do, but he knows that James is serious. And this is his senior year, so he really doesn’t have much time.
James grabs his backpack and slings it across one shoulder. As he walks along the aisle, he looks back. “Remember, you don’t have forever!” He repeats, smiling before exiting the room.
Thomas rolls his eyes. He zips up his bag and sets off to his next class, another one that he shares with Alex.
Before today, he never would’ve thought of admitting his feelings to Alex. But now he’s starting to think that he has a chance. Maybe, just maybe he could do it.