Work Text:
"Who's that?" John asked, peering over Stuart's shoulder as he sat, drawing.
"Who's who?" Stuart replied with a chuckle, "I'm drawing a lot more than one person here, John,"
John responded with a dry, fake laugh, "This one here," he said pointing to the as-yet-unfinished central figure.
"You'll have to find out when I'm done," Stu replied.
John smirked, leaning down so his face was level with Stuart's, "It's me innit?"
Stu put down the pencil, sighing, "Not everything is about YOU, you know," he retorted. He turned to look at John, his eyebrow raised.
"You'd like that though wouldn't you?"
John, feigning indignation, stood up with his hands on his hips, "Well excuse ME,"
Stu snorted, and went back to drawing again. John pulled up a chair beside him and scooted it closer. Oh dear it was gonna be like that was it? Stuart tried to not smile, lest it encourage John to act out more. How ever did he find himself tied up with such a child of a man?
John's hand assumed a stick figure position, and he began walking it across the table and onto the sheet of paper.
Stuart used his free hand to slide it off, and upon making contact, John made his hand-man wiggle around and freak out like it was going to fall over. That alone would have been fine, but John was also making a funny voice.
"NO! NO, YE GOT ME!" he cried in a high pitched voice. Stuart wheezed, putting his pencil down again.
"You're like a cat," he declared, "or a baby, aren't you?"
John brought his hands up to cup his cheeks, his elbows resting on the table.
"Are you callin me cute then?" he asked in the same high pitched silly voice.
Giving up on the drawing for now, Stu turned his chair to face his ever persistent lover.
"I'm callin you SOMETHING cats and babies can be, that's for sure," he smirked.
John smiled back and then dropped a hand onto Stuart's knee. Stuart slowly reached out and grabbed it with his own. He rubbed circles with his thumb, and squeezed it.
John's smile transformed to be more subdued but infinitely more intimate. He lifted Stuart's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. The warmth of his lips left a beautiful sting in their wake, and it left the artist with a warmer feeling inside.
"... Let's find ourselves some place else," he said softly. It wasn't enough. What he needed was to hold him, to kiss him. He needed to do what they could NOT, not whilst sitting here, in the open.
John grinned like the Cheshire cat he was and obliged, standing up and tugging on his hand.
"Right-oh! Let's be off then!" he said with a chuckle in his voice.
Stuart sighed affectionately. He'd played right into his hands, hadn't he? He always did.