Work Text:
Law sat down in the back of the classroom, letting out a sigh as he pulled out his sketchpad, along with a few different pencils. He detested art class, but he had to take a few humanities classes to graduate, and he was at least good at this. When the rest of the class filed in, Jora, the art teacher, began speaking to the students.
“Today marks the week where we’ll be using live models,” she told the class. She smiled at all of them, especially her nephew Law, who seemed slightly annoyed by this news. But then again, he was always annoyed to be in her class, it seemed. “So, be nice to the students who’ve volunteered to do this for all of you. You’ll have the entire class to draw and turn in a detailed sketch.”
The entirety of the class groaned, and a few hung their heads. Speed sketches, especially of people, weren’t a lot of peoples’ forte, but Law was a decent sketcher – especially of human beings, thanks to the years of looking at medical books that illustrated anatomy. So, he wasn’t that concerned about the week’s assignment. However, that slight confidence left as soon as the model walked into the room, using the white t-shirt he undoubtedly was wearing before, to wipe the oil off of his hands as he walked into the room.
He was breath taking – seeming made out of marble like some sort of Greek statue, with hair and eyes as red as fire, and a smirk that said he knew exactly how good he looked. The man walked into the room and, per Jora’s orders, stood on a small platform in the front of the room. The teacher murmured something to the student, and an approving hum passed over the class as the redhead lifted his arms to lace his fingers behind his head. Even Law had to appreciate the way the muscles rippled under the other’s pale skin. As soon as Jora said to being, the med student looked up at the redhead, deciding to start at the top, pausing when he realized that this man was staring at him.
Law shook his head, quickly ridding himself of that thought as he quickly began sketching the basic shape of the model. Every once in a while, he would look up to refresh his mental picture, and every time he was being started at. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth when the stranger made a rather indecent show of licking his lips, which made many of the woman giggle quietly.
With a sigh and a roll of his golden eyes, Law decided not to look up anymore and just guess the rest of the other’s perfect muscles. Besides, he had most of the model drawn, and now that he finished the other’s pants and muscles in the stomach region, he needed to darken the lines and shade properly. Quickly finishing that, he took his time to stare at the detailed sketch – it didn’t do the man justice. He wanted to scrap it and start over, make it perfect, but the class was going to end soon, so he didn’t have enough time. Sure enough, Jora called time and began walked around to inspect everyone’s art and give them their grades for the day. Law kept his eyes down on his own drawing, picking out all the imperfections that were glaring at him.
“Well, this looks amazing!” The teacher grinned as she stopped next to her nephew, staring at the picture.
“Sure does,” a gruff voice said in agreement.
The med student’s head whipped up to come face to face with that smirking redhead.
“Ya seem real good ‘at ‘is,” he continued. “Can I ask ya s’m’ stuff?”
“…if you must,” Law murmured, silently reprimanding himself for sounding so haughtly.
With a deep chuckle, the pale redhead grabbed a chair and pulled it over, plopping down into it to sit next to the other. “’M name’s Eustass Kidd,” he offered.
“…Trafalgar Law,” the tattooed male said after a moment. “Now, what did you want to ask me?”
“Well, two things: can I have yer number? An’ what’re ya doin’ Friday night?”
The tattooed male was slightly shocked at the forwardness of the other. “Oh? You’re interested in me?”
“Well, I’ve been starin’ at ya ‘e whole class, so Imma go with yeah, ‘m interested in ya, Trafalgar,” Kidd chuckled. “So, whaddya say? ‘Is Friday? Maybe a movie an’ s’m’ dinner?”
A soft, amused chuckle left Law as he pondered this. He didn’t have anything going on, so what hard could it do? He pulled a pen out of his bag, then grabbed the other’s hand, quickly scribbling his number on the pale skin. “I’d say you’re lucky that you’re cute.”