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Jack Kelly was a creature of habit. As much as he loved spontaneity and thrived in it, there were some things he just had to do. Painting sessions with Medda, his adopted mother, was one of them. Every Tuesday, he would pick her up and they would drive to the studio where he worked (Of course, the habit started because of the staff discount!), where the following hours would be filled with ‘happy little trees’ and varying degrees of finished artwork. Don’t tell anyone, but Jack always hung around extra to study the canvases and mentally hand out corrections here and there. It was yet another habit. Being an art teacher had its effects, after all.
This session in particular shouldn’t have been any different. He may have bribed the girl leading the session (Smalls, his brain helpfully supplied) with a month’s supply of her favorite candies to do a desert/sunset painting, so he was looking forward to getting his hands on it. He opened the door for Medda, offering a hand gallantly, laughing when she took it and daintily stepped out of the beat-up truck like it was Cinderella’s carriage.
“I didn’t know I’d raised such a gentleman!” She grinned as they walked into the classroom, where Smalls was setting up easels, brushes, and cups of paint water. There were about 20 minutes until the session officially started, but Jack made an effort to come early every week to organize the paints and help register the attendees. He busied himself with the palettes, retorting “Nah, Mama, I’m an eldritch being of chaos trapped in a human body and you know it!” like it was second nature. It was.
He balanced the stack precariously in his arms, which in hindsight was a catastrophe waiting to happen. The leaning tower of palettes decided to come crumbling down while he was near the door; just his luck. The resounding clatter drew Smalls and Medda’s attention, and Jack huffed in annoyance, crouching down to pick them back up. Before he nabbed all of them, another pair of hands appeared in his peripheral.
“Here, let me help you with that.” The most attractive man Jack had ever seen was also on the floor, handing him the palettes that managed to escape his grasp. He was lanky, with dark brown, wavy hair, bright, hazel eyes, strong, hooked nose, and a gorgeous, easy smile. Jack mumbled his thanks, hurriedly distributing them and side-eyeing the brunet (who had gone to register with Smalls) with a smile. Time flew after that, and before long, everyone else had come and the session began.
The powers that be must have found favor with Jack today, because the pretty stranger chose a station right across from his. They went around the room, introducing themselves, but most of their names and occupations escaped his attention. When it was his newfound muse’s turn, he smiled shyly, and wow. Jack decided there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to bring that smile onto his handsome face.
“Hey, um, my name’s David, and I’m a gra- um, grad student,” he said with a voice that probably made angels jealous. David, huh? Pretty name for a pretty guy. Jack shelved the information mentally, before screeching to a halt. What kind of bullshit was this? He wasn’t one to fall for people out of nowhere. Why would this evening and this guy be any different? How did he know he wasn’t straight or something? As the instructions began, he lost himself to the familiar rhythm of brushstrokes and beautiful scenery, only glancing over every so often at David. Jack could easily excuse that as checking the reference picture, since from his perspective, it was just behind him.
It only half surprised Jack that when he looked down, a face was taking shape in the red tones of his landscape. He really was whipped, wasn’t he? Medda nudged his elbow, and when he turned, she gave him a sly wink. Immediately, his face turned red, and he put his face in his hands. “Mama!” He hissed quietly, before jerking his hands back like he’d been burned. Too late, he realized that his fingers were covered in paint, so that meant… Great. Good going, Kelly. He wiped off what he could, taking out his phone to check his reflection. Pink, purple, and orange were smeared on his cheeks, as well as a smattering of red on his nose. How did that even get there?
Jack scrubbed at his face with some water and a paper towel, successfully removing the worst of the acrylic mess. Then, he looked around to make sure nobody else (well, Medda didn’t count, but she’d seen things much more embarrassing than that) saw what happened. That’s when his eyes landed on David yet again. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, and his lips were pursed in a thin line. Jack couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss them- Nope, moving on. David’s hands were like another canvas altogether, stained with sunlight and mesas and sky. They were totally worth waxing poetic over! Long, musicians’ fingers (probably; Jack could tell because he used to dabble in piano), with streaks of paint down the sides from quick fixes and broad palms dappled with white like stars.
He cleared his throat, tapping the other man’s easel with the clean end of a brush as soon as his hands were off it. “David, right? ‘M gonna call you Davey.” When he snorted and didn’t show any sign of hating the nickname, Jack grinned and continued. “Graduate school, huh? So what’s a busy guy like you doin’ here?”
Davey shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “My, uh, my sister booked it for me, told me that I needed to stop studying for once in my life.” He let out a chuckle, and Jack could’ve sworn he couldn’t be more infatuated with this man, but here he was. Damn. It took a few minutes to realize that he was waiting for Jack’s own reason, and he stammered out a reply. “I work here, so my mom and I get discounted tickets. It’s a weekly kinda thing?”
“That’s awesome! So, Jack, you’re an artist?” When he nodded, Davey raised an eyebrow. “Then what are you doing in a beginner’s class, trying to make us all look bad?” He laughed as Jack sputtered, trying to come up with some kind of response that didn’t make him look like a jackass. (Get it? Jack-ass?) “It’s honestly a little mind numbing,” here he got a mild glare from Smalls, so he shot her an apologetic grin, “but it’s nice to do something easy and let my mind wander once a week.” Of course, this week, his mind decided to wander towards the tall freakin’ god in front of him.
Davey pursed his lips, before breaking into a smile. “I was honestly expecting something less deep, but.. Wow.” He let out a breath, looking down at his canvas. Jack gasped in mock offense, a hand raised to his heart. “David! I cannot believe- Are you callin’ me an idiot?” Because you’d be right, his brain filled in. Thanks, brain. Now it was the other man’s turn to flounder like a fish out of water, finally blurting “That’s no- that isn’t what I meant! Nonono, I meant that in a good way! Promise.” Jack watched him turn red with embarrassment, before the pair broke out into quiet laughter.
Before he knew it, the session was almost over. The hours passed by with easy, somewhat flirty conversation and laughing. Jack’s painting was pretty much finished, other than that face smiling back at him. In a moment of pure impulse, he decided to leave it on there. He was taking it home, Davey surely wouldn’t see it! Right..? “Hey, Jack! Can I see what yours looks like?” Well, shit. Jack chuckled nervously, shaking his head, and Davey grinned teasingly. “Oh, c’mon! It’s probably just going to make everyone feel bad about theirs or something!”
In another moment of pure impulse, he relented. He turned his canvas around, and Davey smiled. “See? That looks great!” Then, his eyes fell on the part Jack desperately wanted him to overlook, and he gasped. “Is that- is that me?” He leaned in closer, and oh boy was Jack about to melt into a little puddle of embarrassment. “Uh, maybe?” He squeaked, shuffling his feet. He was relieved to see Davey smile, blushing slightly. “It’s super good! I’m flattered.”
Jack took a deep breath, before steeling his nerves. “Um.. Could I draw you for real, sometime? And maybe take you out for a coffee after?” He was hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst. Imagine his surprise when Davey blushed further. “I’d really, um, really like that.” They made plans to meet the following Thursday, and Jack smiled. “It’s a date!” He tried not to sound as ecstatic as he felt, but it was definitely there. After they said their goodbyes, Medda winked at him, having watched this all go down. “Aw, shaddup Ma,” he groaned, picking up the canvas and smiling at Davey’s face chiseled into the landscape. Underneath it lay a neatly scrawled phone number, and Jack knew that he would treasure this painting for years to come.