Work Text:
Quentin was not a great artist but he’d always wanted to learn. Life Drawing 1000 had been a fairly easy class so far. They’d drawn bowls of fruit and portraits of each other, and the teacher had determined they were ready to take the next step.
Quentin arrived, coffee in hand, Julia at his side and sat down at his seat, front row center. He would have preferred to sit somewhere in the back, but Julia made him sit in front so they could see better since she refused to wear her glasses these days.
“This is your new subject,” the teacher, Lila, announced.
Quentin took a sip of his cappuccino and choked a little when a very attractive man walked up, stood in front of him, and dropped the red robe he was wearing.
He was naked, very naked. Quentin tried not to stare, then realized to draw the man he was going to have to look. He set down his coffee and grabbed a pencil.
Julia giggled. “Gosh Quentin, drool much?”
“Study the play of skin and muscle,” Lila explained. She gestured at his arm and the curve of his bicep. “He’s like a Roman statue.”
“Q.” Julia was nudging him in the ribs. “You’re not drawing.”
“Oh.” Quentin flipped his notepad to a clean page and began sketching, starting with the man’s face, trying to get his dark curls and eyes just right.
“You didn’t think a life drawing class wouldn’t have a naked person at some point?” Julia asked him later, as they walked out of class. “It’s like, classic.”
“We’ve only been going for 6 weeks. I didn’t think we’d have a dude hanging dong until after midterms.”
“Never use the phrase ‘hanging dong’ again.”
==
The next morning Quentin was on campus grabbing a cup of coffee before class. He was pouring in some cream when a man bumped up against the table, causing him to spill a little.
“Sorry about that,” he said, offering him a napkin.
“No harm done.” Quentin took the offered napkin and wiped the spill.
“You look familiar,” the man said.
Quentin tossed away the napkin. “So do you.”
“What’s your major?”
“Literature.”
“Hmm. I’m Drama,” he said. “Maybe from general ed?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Quentin stared at him for a moment as he sipped his coffee.
“Well, I gotta go,” he said, giving Quentin a little wave. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
==
Quentin saw him around alright. He saw him again in art class, standing around talking to the teacher, dressed in nothing but a red robe. They stared at each other for a moment longer than necessary. Just then, Julia walked up beside him. The relief he felt was instantaneous.
“Julia!” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “Can you fill up your water bottle with me?”
“What?” Julia’s bottle was full but she followed him to the water fountain anyway.
“This morning I saw the nude model at the coffee shop, told him he looked familiar but then couldn’t figure out where I knew him from.”
“Oh my god,” she started laughing. “You didn’t recognize him with clothes on.”
They spent an excessive amount of time getting water. As he strolled back into the classroom, Quentin hoped he at least looked like he had his shit together. The nude model was standing in front of his chair, robe still on. Quentin was careful to avoid eye contact as he adjusted his easel and began drawing. He worked quietly for a couple moments before Lila walked up to study his picture.
“Quentin,” Lila said. “The face is very striking but you need to start the rest of the anatomy. The long limbs, the interplay of light and shadow, the intricacies of his pose. The model will only be here for a few more days. I’d hate for you to miss out.”
“Yes, of course.” Quentin kept his eyes on his notepad.
Julia snickered beside him. Her drawing was already sketched out completely and she was adding shading and detail. Compared to her drawing, his looked like something a child might make, the lines shaky and thick, the shadows patchy. He sighed and erased a few lines, looking up and meeting the model’s gaze. He kept his face stoic, but Quentin could have sworn he saw a tiny smile.
==
“Now do you recognize me?”
Quentin had his coffee in hand, his art supplies in the other. The art class model was standing right in front of him, arms crossed smugly across his chest. From this vantage point, his height and features really popped, and Quentin felt ashamed of his lack of talent. Greek God indeed. Er, Roman.
“Yes,” Quentin said, trying his best not to look anywhere but his face. “Sorry.”
“I’m Eliot,” he said, reaching out a hand.
Quentin had to juggle his belongings in order to accept the handshake. “Quentin.”
“You look like you’re gonna drop something,” Eliot said, then whisked Quentin’s art folder out of his grip.
“May I?” he asked.
Quentin didn’t have time to think about it, so he just nodded.
“Wow,” Eliot said, flipping through the sketches and assignments. “You’re not bad at this.”
He stopped at the picture of himself. “You made me look really handsome. But I seem to be missing my bottom half.”
Quentin’s embarrassment came back full force. He’d drawn down to Eliot’s torso and he was procrastinating drawing Eliot’s ass and...appendages.
He grabbed at the folder weakly and Eliot just smiled and handed it back. They stood there for a moment more, Quentin fighting the urge to squirm.
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Eliot asked.
Quentin looked down at his steaming cup. “I already have coffee.”
Eliot grinned. “I was hoping I could buy you one somewhere besides the student union.”
“I guess so.” Quentin adjusted his backpack.
“Then I’ll see you in class.” Eliot gave a little wave, and like some kind of mischievous sprite, disappeared, leaving Quentin utterly confused and delighted. He continued on towards his Lit Theory class for a few moments, before the realization smacked him upside the head.
“Did he just ask me out?”
==
“So, Quentin.” Eliot was waiting by the door for him. “I was thinking we could grab that coffee tomorrow after 2. I have a rehearsal until then. I could meet you in the union?”
Julia was standing beside Quentin and her face was like a kid on Christmas morning. Quentin already knew he was going to be interrogated the minute they got out of class.
“Yeah, that sounds fine. I don’t have a car though,” he said, keeping his eyes down and avoiding Julia’s intense look.
“No problem, I’ll drive.” Eliot gave him a little nod, then took his place in the middle of the classroom, robe loose around his shoulders. Julia was dying. Quentin could feel her vibrating with excitement beside him.
“You’re going on a date with the nude model,” she hissed, as the teacher started talking.
Quentin didn’t say anything, just took out his pencils and stared straight at the chalkboard. Eliot dropped his robe. Quentin began shading his torso, not looking anywhere else as there were danger zones in every corner. He looked up just long enough to notice Eliot was glancing in his direction. Eliot winked at him and Quentin’s pencil slipped.
He finished the drawing that day. He couldn’t have spent much more time not looking at Eliot while needing to look at him while also avoiding looking at Julia who wouldn’t stop looking at him.
But the worst wasn’t over. He still had a date to go on.
“What if it’s not a date?” He wondered aloud to Julia, who’d taken it upon herself to get him ready.
“It’s a date,” she insisted. “Don’t you dare do that thing with your hair and--”
“What thing?”
“And don’t interrupt.” Julia finished buttoning up his shirt then straightened his collar. “Be yourself.”
It had all seemed like no big deal until 2 o’clock rolled around, then it was so staggering he spent a good 90 seconds trying to figure out a viable excuse not to go. But then Eliot turned a corner, caught Quentin’s eye, and smiled like sunshine. That smile was trouble. No one had ever smiled like that upon seeing Quentin. It was so unexpected, he was tempted to look over his shoulder and make sure there wasn’t someone else behind him.
“Hey,” Eliot said. “Sorry I’m late.”
Quentin had lost all concept of time. “No big deal.”
“I’ve been in rehearsal all afternoon,” Eliot told him. “Our tech director sprained his ankle, so we’ve got no one running lights and the cues are all fucked and…”
“This is probably super boring to you, right?” he said, stopping in the middle of his story.
“No,” Quentin wasn’t lying. “I like theatre. It’s a lot like literature, actually.”
“We’re doing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead ,” Eliot explained. “I’m Rosencrantz.”
“I’ve never read that one,” Quentin admitted. “But I know Hamlet.”
They ended up talking nonstop about Hamlet and the play all the way to Eliot’s car. Quentin wasn’t sure what he expected, but he was relieved to see a slightly beat up black Toyota Camry. Eliot having a normal car put him at ease.
Eliot drove them to a coffee shop in the downtown area, one with a large bakery and a huge rooftop patio. They sat outside, drinking cold brew and sharing a slice of matcha cheesecake that Eliot had insisted they order.
They’d been talking for awhile when Eliot reached into a pocket and lit a cigarette. “Hope this doesn’t bother you,” he said, blowing smoke off to the side.
Quentin shook his head. “I’m what they call a social smoker.”
“This seems like a perfect time then.” Eliot offered him a cigarette from a classy metal case.
Quentin had to lean in close to allow Eliot to light it.
“I feel like we haven’t discussed the elephant in the room,” Eliot said, swirling his cold brew around in the cup.
Quentin grimaced and puffed hard. “What elephant?”
“Most dates I spend wondering what the guy looks like naked,” Eliot said. “But you’ve been given a gift.”
Quentin laughed and coughed at the same time.
“Don’t you want to know why I pose naked for art students?” he asked, switching his cigarette from one hand to the other so he could sip from his drink. Quentin shrugged.
Eliot stopped short and then frowned. “It’s nothing salacious. It’s literally just for the money.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” Quentin asked. He took the time to study Eliot’s hands. He’d severely neglected them in his picture. He had a natural dexterity and grace in the way he moved his fingers.
“Not at all,” Eliot said. “I don’t care if people see me naked. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“That’s right,” Quentin said.
Eliot grinned again. “Was that a compliment? This whole time I thought maybe you were only here because you felt guilty about bumping into me and not recognizing me without my dick out.”
“I didn’t...I mean I thought maybe you were from another class..it’s not that I.”
“It’s fine.” Eliot waved the cigarette around. “I understand. My naked form has a tendency to leave men amnesiac.”
Quentin had to laugh at that.
“I noticed you took a really long time to draw my face and my chest but not so long on my ass. Which is fair, but how could you rush my best asset?”
Quentin’s face burned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Don’t deny it,” Eliot said. “I can see almost everyone in the front row’s sketches from where I stand.”
“I thought your eyes were your best asset,” Quentin said after a beat. Eliot’s face relaxed. Then he stubbed out his cigarette.
“I was wondering if you’d like to come see the play,” Eliot said. “Opening night is a week from Saturday and maybe I could take you out after?”
“You could bring that girl with you,” he added. “The one who pulled me aside after class and asked me what my intentions with you were.”
“What?” Quentin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was going to kill Julia, he was going to throw bleach on her black jeans, he was gonna put Nair in her shampoo...
“Okay, so it wasn’t that serious,” Eliot amended. “She is kinda scary though, for someone so little, I was afraid to piss her off.”
Quentin sighed. He was still mad at Julia, but the edge was softening up. “She’s just protective.”
“I thought for a minute she was your girlfriend,” Eliot said with a little laugh. “I do have a tendency to sleep with other people’s boyfriends so it wasn’t a stretch.”
“No way.” Quentin shook his head and put out his cigarette next to Eliot’s. “Just friends, since we were kids.”
“So you’ll come to the show?” Eliot said, switching gears.
“Okay.”
Quentin smiled at the relief in his eyes, like he was worried Quentin might say no.
“I’ll get you VIP seats,” Eliot said.
After they’d been at the coffee shop a few hours, Quentin started to get antsy. He had a mountain of school work to do, plus he’d promised to help Julia with her Critical Lit Forms paper, plus he had a sink full of dirty dishes, and Penny was gonna lose his shit if they weren’t done soon.
“This has been really great, but I’ve got so much to do,” he said, and Eliot jumped up from the table.
“I’m sorry, the time just flew by,” Eliot said, and he was right.
Eliot insisted on driving him home even though Quentin tried to convince him he could just take him back to campus. He parked in the street beside Quentin’s apartment building and walked him to the door. Quentin couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date be such a gentleman.
“This is me,” he said, pointing to his door. The paint was cracked and the number hard to read, but it was home.
“After friday, I won’t be in your art class anymore,” Eliot said. “If you want to see me naked, you’ll have to ask.”
Quentin blushed and reached for the door. “I guess I’ll see you at the play then?”
“Sure. ” Eliot smiled and began walking down the steps towards his car.
“Um, hey Eliot?”
Eliot turned and Quentin acted before he had time to talk himself out of it. With Eliot down a step, they were of closer heights and Quentin only had to lean down a little to kiss him. When he pulled back, he felt a little shy, and turned back towards the door to escape into his apartment, but Eliot was already there, hand on his wrist and then they were kissing again, on equal footing this time. Quentin dropped his keys but didn’t care, because his hand was on Eliot’s arm and he was holding on for dear life.
==
Julia lost her shit after class when Eliot slipped on his robe, didn’t even bother tying it and gave Quentin a kiss on the cheek.
He didn’t care that his drawing only got a B- because honestly he’d already gotten the best thing out of art class.