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Wolfram had seen so many nude models that he's lost count, at this point. It wasn't that different from a still life. It was an understanding both artist and model had. It was no big deal. They never roused a reaction in Wolfram. It was just practice in drawing bodys.
But then this first year comes stumbling in, all flustered with his dark hair and big dark eyes. It wasn't even the first time someone hadn't read the ad correctly. The teacher really should make the 'nude' part more noticable. But this kid doesn't chicken out like most mix ups did. His first couple of poses were stiff and awkward, but then the teacher said something about a baseball pose since the kid was apparently on the team. His entire presence seemed to change as he took up what Wolfram would later learn was a batting stance, using some scrap table leg from the junk box as a prop. All of a sudden, this guy looked so powerful and confident, even had the slightest smile as he picked a spot in the middle distance to focus his eyes on. Wolfram had never been more excited to try and capture the *feel* of a model before.
After the session, the kid complimented his drawing, no one else's, and it gave Wolfram a heady feeling. The kid was gone before he could say more than thank you, though.
Suddenly, he was seeing the first year everywhere. He was even in his art history class! That's how Wolfram learned his last name was Shibuya. He sat two rows down and about five seats over from him in the lecture hall and seemed bored to tears over the material. Shibuya never spared him a glance, despite how his eyes had widened when he'd first seen him in the art studio and the fact that he'd complimented his work. It shouldn't matter. He was just some first year. Wolfram was a year above him and had more important things to focus on. But, for some reason, he really wanted those dark eyes to look at him again.
Teacher had said Shibuya was on the baseball team, and the kid had been completely different once he'd taken a baseball pose. A pose Wolf had actually been excited to draw. So he started going to the practices. He had thought (hoped) it was just the kind of pose that he had liked, but his eyes only wanted to drift over number 27, 'Shibuya' stretched between his shoulder blades. Even just watching him go through warm up stretches was fascinating and the sketch book he'd brought with him quickly filled up.
This wasn't normal. This couldn't be normal, right?
"What, having a crush?" Elizabeth had laughed as she stirred her Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato as he confessed his actions with his head in his hands. "I mean, I've never seen you have one before, but I don't think you've crossed any lines or anything. The practices are open to the public. Have you tried talking to him?"
He gave her a horrified look that just made her laugh more.
There was going to be a party. He heard Shibuya's friends loudly inviting him in the hallway. Shibuya had accepted. Shibuya would be at a party. Parties were an acceptable, not stalkerish way to approach people, right? It would be the first college party he'd attended since the one or two Elizabeth had dragged him to in their very first semester of college. Wolfram had no interest in loud, obnoxious frat guys. Especially when they only seemed interested in hitting on his best friend, practically sister. He'd be worried except that he was well aware of her ability to take care of herself.
It was as loud and over crowded as he had expected and he hated it instantly. There was a wave of whispers in his wake as he made his way through the overfilled house. Did they not think he could hear them? The music wasn't that loud.
"Bielefeld? What's a snob like him doing here?"
"Well, I guess he's rich enough he can just walk into anywhere…"
Wolfram gritted his teeth. He should have dragged Elizabeth with him. This was her idea, in a round about way. Though she'd likely argue she meant sitting next to him in art history. Which would have been a much more intelligent way to go about this. What kind of conversation could they even have, here? There was an entire sectional that seemed devoted to couples making out and Wolfram's stomach flipped, realizing for the first time that Shibuya could be on that couch. Or tucked away somewhere with some girl. Could have a girlfriend he'd just never happened to see him with. This was a stupid idea. The dumbest idea he'd ever had in his entire life. He'd never had any interest in anyone before, why did he suddenly have to become obsessed with some jock-
He'd just turned to leave when someone stumbled into him, nearly sending them both to the floor. Black eyes blinked up at him, looking too unfocused to be sober. "Pretty Art Guy…" Shibyua murmured, staring at him with a look of drunken awe.
"...Are you okay?"
Shibuya gave one heavy looking blink before scowling at the floor. "Told them I didn't want to." he mumbled, continuing his stumble toward the door. Wolfram quickly followed, catching him before he fell over a couple making out in a nearby chair. "Shouldn't have let them convince me… Gave me doubles, assholes…"
There was a sealed bottle of water on a table nearby and Wolfram grabbed it, ignoring some girl's angry shout at the theft. Shibuya continued to mumble, something about a bet and really wanting a card, as Wolfram guided him outside and shoved the bottle into his hands. "You should drink that. It'll help."
"Thanks, Pretty Art Guy." he said, practically falling onto the front steps.
A blush spread across Wolfram's cheeks at being called that again. "I have a name, you know." he said, sitting down next to him.
Shibuya blinked at him over top of the water bottle as he drank. His hair was more of a mess then Wolf usually saw it. It didn't look like a purposeful style, so someone had likely mussed it for him. Had he stumbled out of some hidden corner? Would a girl come looking for him soon? "What is it?"
"Huh?"
Shibuya gave him a dopey grin. "Your name!"
"Oh! Wolfram."
The grin slowly changed to something softer. "Wolfram." he parroted and Wolf felt goosebumps rise along his arms. " 'm Yuuri."
"Yuuri…" Wolfram breathed. That's what his first name was? It was so pretty. None of his friends had ever called him that. Why was he handing it out to a perfect stranger?
"You like baseball?" Yuuri asked before taking another drink.
"Not particularly?" Wolfram said, confused by the topic change.
Yuuri frowned, lowering the water bottle again. "But, you're always at the practices."
Green eyes widened and he looked away, hoping to hide his blush. He'd seen him?! Wolfram had never caught him looking, and considering how much he focused on the first year, that seems like it'd be hard to miss. "I-I-! It makes for interesting sketch practice!"
"...Oh." Wolfram wasn't sure what that tone meant and was too nervous to look back. His cheeks felt like they were on fire and he could not get them to stop. "... Most people who bother with it are girls waiting for their boyfriends to finish so they can go do stuff. But I never saw you leave with anyone…"
Wolfram chanced a glance back at him. "You were watching for such a thing?"
Now Yuuri's eyes were going wide. He fumbled with the water bottle, nearly dropping it before resolutely pressing it to his lips and looking away as he chugged it.
Wolfram couldn't help but laugh at the embarrassed display, the whole thing settling his own nerves. He gently pushed down on the end of the water bottle. "You're going to make yourself sick if you drink it that fast."
Black eyes had moved back to him. "You have a nice laugh."
"I- thanks?"
Color rose in Yuuri's cheeks and he looked away again. "S-sorry. I don't drink. Like, ever. I didn't think I'd lose the bet… I'm probably making a fool of myself."
"You're fine." Wolfram assured, scooting closer to him to make room for a group to go up the stairs. "Is the water helping?"
"Mm. Thank you."
"Y-you know," Wolfram said when the silence stretched too long for his liking. "We're in the same art history course."
Yuuri blinked at him for a moment. They did seem to be clearing. "Oh, no, I didn't. I only took it cause my guidance counselor said I needed a history credit and everything else was full." he said, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. "That's… probably the only reason I saw that flyer in the first place… I was probably a shit model, huh?"
Wolfram shrugged. "I liked the last pose."
Yuuri smiled even as his blush darkened. "The drawing you did of it was really good."
"I still have it, if you want it." Wolfram blurted. This time Yuuri chuckled.
"I donno, having a naked drawing of myself seems a little… full of myself?"
"Well, fine." Wolfram huffed, feeling slightly scorned. "I'll just keep it, then. Maybe I'll put it up in the gallery."
"Wah?!" Yuuri said, flailing so much that he would have spilled the water if it wasn't nearly empty. "L-like where other people can see?!"
"What's the big deal? It's not like that one had your naughty bits."
Yuuri sputtered and Wolf couldn't help but find the show enjoyable. "Th-that one-?! So your other ones-?!"
"You *were* a nude model." he said, trying to hold back a teasing grin.
Yuuri's face went so red he eventually buried it in his arms. "How early do hangovers start?" he groaned.
Wolfram laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. "Relax. It's not a big deal. Besides, everyone else was drawing you, too."
"Yeah, but…"
"But I'm 'Pretty Art Guy'?"
Yuuri made some kind of noise akin to an 'Eeep!' and peeked out at him with one black eye. "That was out loud?"
"It was."
"Oh, God," he groaned, burying his face even deeper.
Wolfram smiled, basking a bit in Yuuri's embarrassment. If no girl had come looking for him by now, he didn't think one would. "Hey," he said gently, nudging him with his shoulder again. "Would it be okay if I started sitting next to you in class?"
It took a moment, but Yuuri eventually raised his head to look at him with a small smile. "Y-yeah. I'd like that."