Work Text:
Dean tried so hard to hold still. He’d done this before, picking up some extra money by modeling for the figure drawing classes, but somehow it was different right now. In the classes, he was able to zone out, run football plays in his head or jam out to an internal Zeppelin concert, and stay in whatever pose he’d been asked for or chosen until his break came around. He’d assumed it would be the same, even though right now he only had one artist drawing him – and she wasn’t even an art major. She was just trying out a hobby.
It didn’t exactly help, knowing that his boyfriend was in the room. Castiel was tuning everyone out to focus on studying for his entomology exam, but it was a distraction for Dean. He flicked his eyes to Amara, hoping she was almost done. She was frowning at her sketch pad. “This sucks. I don’t understand Chuck sometimes. Why does he bother with all this nonsense?”
Dean caught himself before he could make the mistake of responding to that. Talking involved moving, and moving meant messing up the pose. It didn’t hurt that anything he’d have to say about Amara’s brother would be uncomplimentary and she wouldn’t appreciate it. Just because Chuck sucked was no reason for Dean to insult Amara’s twin brother where she could hear him. He’d hit anyone who said something bad about his brother.
When Amara threw her pad across the room, Dean couldn’t help the flinch. Neither could Castiel, who took off his headphones and turned to stare. “Amara? Was that necessary?”
“Yes. Yes, it was.” Amara got to her feet and started pacing. “Chuck is so full of shit! I can’t do this!”
Dean raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s Chuck got to do with any of this? I thought this was about building up your portfolio for your art minor.”
“Well… the whole reason I’m doing an art minor is family tradition, so Chuck’s involved there,” Amara stammered. “I know that sounds kind of weird, but that was the deal. I could major in whatever I wanted, but the only way I got the family money to pay for college was if I did an art minor. Since Chuck’s the one in charge of that, instead of me, I had to go along with it.”
“Ew. No offense, but your family’s weird.” Dean shuddered. He couldn’t imagine being forced into a major. Even his brother encouraging him to give mechanical engineering a try had very nearly backfired, and he loved both mechanics and Sam. If John had made college funds contingent on a minor… well, Dean was paying his own way anyway. “You’re an engineer. The design art you might need to do is way different from this.” He waved a hand over himself vaguely. “For me, even, I could see it, if I were looking at biomechanical stuff, but a petroleum engineer?”
“Exactly!” Amara threw up her hands. “But no, the family is of the opinion that art and creation is what makes us human, how we’re different from any other animals. A Godwin who’s not an artist is an abomination and deserves to be shunned.”
“That’s nonsense,” Castiel said. He picked up Amara’s sketchpad. “May I look at it?”
“Go ahead,” Amara said, waving a hand dismissively. “Technically, it’s fine, but that’s exactly what my professors keep saying. It’s technical. There’s no soul in it. And therefore, it’s not art, it’s being a human camera.”
“Which is even worse.” Castiel flipped open the pad and looked through the pages. He stopped and stared at a page, then up at Amara. “While I can certainly understand the fascination, aren’t you supposed to…”
“Oh my fuck.” Amara took the pad from him, but not before Dean had gotten a glimpse of the page with its focus on only part of his anatomy. “My professor said to draw something I’m passionate about, that I can really get my soul into, and…”
“And this is an informal session, with just my boyfriend and girlfriend present, not an actual assignment or anything.” Dean held out his hands, and Amara handed him the sketch pad. Dean didn’t know much about art or how to tell if Amara had put any soul into the work, but it sure looked good to him. His anatomy sure appreciated the attention Amara had put into observing it. “Although I gotta say, I feel a little weird about you showing this to a professor. Don’t objectify me.”
“It’s… I did tell you it was practice, not an assignment,” Amara grumbled. “Besides, it’s not like she’d know it was you. It’s a big campus, she probably has no idea who I’m dating. And you have nothing to worry about, because this is still soulless and mechanical. If someone wanted to use it to make one of those imitation cock dildos, it’s perfect, but art? Nope.”
“Perhaps try something less realistic,” Castiel suggested. “Now that you have the anatomy and realistic aspects covered, do something more abstract or impressionist or something. You two fuck, and then get your colored pencils and scribble something. Then find a way to combine your scribbles with the realistic image of it. The end result wouldn’t be identifiable as Dean’s penis, but you’d know, and the soul might get into it that way.”
“And then to be fair, you’ll have to do Cas,” Dean added. “Then you get to say you got to fuck as part of a college assignment.”
“It can’t hurt, and I definitely need something to work out my frustration,” Amara agreed. “Both with the art, and with spending so long staring at your cock and getting distracted by it.”