Work Text:
Undressing behind the painted screen provided for the purpose, Jonathan reflected that this was certainly not how he'd expected this morning to go. He was too tall, too broad of shoulder, too much the wrong kind of omega for Lord Percy to want to paint him. He'd come nonetheless, because he'd watched Lord Percy at every society gathering where they'd both turned up, and he'd seen the paintings, and, well. It's not like he'd ever achieve what an omega was supposed to achieve, son of a duke or no, so he might as well invite the scandal.
Lord Percy had listened to him stammer through the request and said, "I'd love to paint you. You're stunning. Stand up, please." And then he'd prowled around Jonathan, and he was taller, a proper alpha, the kind that made Jonathan's knees go weak and something in him snarl in defiance at the same time, so it was all he could do to keep his eyes fixed on the wall and wait.
"Yes, we can start right now. It will fit."
'It' being the corset that Jonathan was now expected to put on. For the rest, Lord Percy had said he'd be comfortable with the level of nudity that Jonathan wanted, that his face wouldn't show unless he wished it to, but that he'd be the perfect addition to the series of paintings that he'd called "Roses in bloom," showing a series of omegas in dress that transgressed everything that would be appropriate. If not for Lord Percy's social standing, he would've been ostracised. As it were, he'd been banned from Almacks and rumour said he was on the verge of being black-balled at Whites.
Jonathan peeked out from behind the screen. "I'm not certain--" he trailed off.
Lord Percy looked up from the sketchbook. "Yes?" he said.
"I don't know how to put on a corset," Jonathan admitted.
"Let me help, then," Lord Percy said.
His strong, capable, sensitive hands lacing up the corset, grazing Jonathan's back as he went, nearly undid him.