Work Text:
It had been years since Phoenix had worked with charcoal, but it was just like getting back onto a bike, like finding an old book and getting back to where you had left off. He hadn’t been an artist in years, much less picked up any supplies other than a pencil to doodle on the corners of papers or sticky notes, but his muscles remembered everything from art school.
All the way back to a simpler time, long before his disbarment, long before his passing of the bar for the first time, and long before he even found that clipping of Miles in the newspaper that fateful day after his trial.
Now, Phoenix was sitting in his and his husband’s shared study, a rare day where neither of them had any work that needed to be done in their respective offices; a lazy summer day and a lazy warm haze, all perfect for an impromptu sketch.
Miles was sitting in a plush lounge chair, reading The Count of Monte Cristo , next to the window. His finger was pressed against his temple and his eyebrows were knit together, his lips pursed and slowly mouthing along with the words on the page.
Phoenix pressed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and teeth as he took careful swipes with the charcoal stick as he gestured, trying to find the right shape, occasionally dabbing with his kneaded eraser to dispel the excess charcoal.
Phoenix admired how Miles’ wedding ring and glasses glinted when the sun hit them, and the halo his hair created against the light.
Come on… just get the value just right… Phoenix thought. I love you Miles, just don’t move…!
Just as he was admiring the diverse value of the shadows and light, Miles looked up out of curiosity. His glasses were askew and his hair was tousled due to his hand running through his fringe.
“Phoenix… what on earth are you muttering about?” Miles asked.
“Eh?”
“It’s rather hard to read when you’re muttering like that… is everything alright?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah everything’s fine!” Phoenix replied, scratching an itch right below his eye. “Sorry, I guess I just got really in the zone, you know…?”
Miles chuckled, pulling out a glasses rag to polish his lenses, “You have something on your cheek there, dear…”
Phoenix jerked and reached up at the smudge, making it even bigger with his charcoal stained fingers, causing his husband to laugh just a bit more. Miles reached over to the tissue box he kept on his desk, always determined to be ready whenever he got a nasty bout of hay fever, and grabbed a few for Phoenix.
“Here, this should help you,” Miles smiled.
“Thanks sweetheart,” Phoenix said, dabbing the charcoal away.
“May I see what you’re sketching…?” Miles asked.
“Oh… I was just sketching what I saw… it’s nothing to write home about…!” Phoenix felt his cheeks warm up while he stammered and babbled on. “I’m kinda rusty… it’s been years and I’m not even being graded on this…!”
Miles peered over Phoenix’s shoulder to get a better view at the sketchpad, his pale skin slowly turning rose colored pink, a little gasp puffing out from his lips.
“Oh my goodness…” He breathed. “Phoenix… this is beautiful…”
“O-Oh…?”
“I… I don’t know much about art but the technique… it’s breathtaking…” Miles nodded before glancing off to the side. “Although I never thought that my reading a book would have been very exciting to draw…”
Phoenix carefully took Miles’ chin, tilting his husband’s head to face him. “Hey… that’s because you don’t see you reading…” Phoenix smiled. “It’s like watching a movie… seeing you react to everything… I think it’s cute…”
“Phoenix!” Miles squawked, his face turning burgundy in his flush.
“What? We’re married …!” Phoenix laughed. “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to call you cute once in a while!”
Miles crossed his arms but grumbled, a smile still evident on his lips, that only grew more when Phoenix pressed gently against them with his own.
“I love you too…” Miles muttered, his voice light and melodic.
“I know…” Phoenix replied with a sing-song, before snorting. “Oh my god…!”
Miles’ hand jerked and brushed against where Phoenix’s hand was, his fingers black, and huffed. “Wright! You’re cleaning this mess up!”
“Okay! Okay, let me get the fixative spray!” Phoenix cackled.
“I admire your art and you cake me with charcoal dust…!” Miles bemoaned dramatically.
“Maybe I’m making you my art…!” Phoenix replied. “And you thought it was sweet…!”
“You’re right, I did, but I am not cleaning this up…” Miles smirked. “But the sketch is wonderful… thank you…”
“Heh… it isn’t half bad, huh?” Phoenix mused. “Maybe I should get back into this stuff…?”
“That would be wonderful… I think it would do you a lot of good…”
“Thanks, Miles, truly…”
“Always…”