Archive of Our Own

Cole didn’t have much to look forward to in life. Sure, he enjoyed being an art major, but most of the time, it felt the same: Turning in your sketches by the end of the week, paintings due on Fridays, and art critiques on Mondays. It was the same thing over and over. It was a love-hate relationship—mostly hate. 

It often made him feel like he wasn’t going down the right path. Maybe he should've just listened to his Dad and studied business or music. Cole opened the door to his life painting class, setting down his bag on his stool of choice. If he was being honest, he wasn’t the biggest fan of still life painting. Cole was genuinely good at painting when it came to picking his own reference and having something to stare at for hours that didn't move around. But when they weren't painting fruits and shapes like he was used to, like he was comfortable with. They would paint volunteer models. He couldn't stand how they would fidget or move when he wasn’t yet done sketching the pose they were currently in. It drove him insane, but it was a labor of love. 

Some of the models you could tell never posed a day in their lives. Once you’re in the middle of the room with all eyes on you, it's a lot of pressure, he sympathized with them. But if you can’t handle it, why even volunteer in the first place? Cole was one of the first students to arrive at class. He always arrived a little earlier than other students solely to get a spot with the best lighting and angle. One time, he sat directly across from the window where the sun glared in his eyes throughout the whole class. His Professor refused to close the blinds that day because she liked the way the sun felt on her skin, which made him roll his eyes. After that, he started coming early. 

A few other students lingered while Cole prepared his paints and a clean water jar by his easel. At this point, it felt like a ritual. The canvas was his religious figure, he was a worshiper, and painting was his prayer. Cole reached into his bag to get his canvas primer when he felt someone tap his shoulder. 

“Uh- sorry to bother you.” 

Cole looked up into the man's ice-blue eyes. They startled him at first, making the primer he once held fall and roll across the floor. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry for scaring you. Let me get that for you.” The intruder rushed off to get Cole’s primer. The bottle made a grand lap around the class before the boy caught it. Quickly bringing it back to Cole. 

“Thank you, and I apologize for that,” Cole felt a warmth rise to his cheeks. He set the primer down on the easel ledge and turned back to focus entirely on the mysterious boy. 

“So what was your question?” Cole couldn't focus on the guy’s face. The boy in front of him was breathtaking, flawless, or fascinating? Cole couldn't put it into words. He was perfect. 

“I just wanted to know if this was the still-life painting classroom. I'm supposed to be volunteering today.” The boy smiled weakly, obviously looking a little out of place. 

“Yes! I mean, yes, it is.” Cole was a little too enthusiastic in his answer, which caused the few students in the classroom to begin to snicker. He could feel himself becoming warmer by the minute. 

“Our Professor won't be here for another fifteen minutes, so… if you want to take a seat, you can.” Cole gestured to the free seat near the wall. He turned back to the canvas in front of him, getting back to work. The boy next to him left for a few seconds before returning with a free chair to sit next to Cole. Oh god, why did it have to be this way? A handsome guy leaning over him to watch him work; it was like a scene out of his wildest dreams. 

“I'm Cole, by the way,” Cole cleared his throat. He reaches for his canvas primer once again and gets his big flat brush out from his brush bag to begin his work. He starts with a few strokes before turning to look at the boy behind him once more.  

“I'm Zane, if you dont mind me asking. Why are you painting your canvas white? Isn't it white already?” Zane tilted his head while he spoke, looking into Cole's eyes once he was done staring at his brush in hand. 

“Its primer; it helps the paint blend and glides better on the canvas.” 

“Without it, the paint would be really patchy, and then I’d have to layer a bunch of paint, which would make some parts look darker than others. And then I'd waste this canvas and I already spent like four hours last night stretching and casting this thing.” Cole rambled, more to himself than the boy behind him.  

“That’s fascinating.” Zane's eyes widened slightly, taking in every word that dropped from Cole's mouth.

“Is it, really? It's just painter nonsense.” Cole chuckled, finishing up his final coating of primer before moving on to his light gray paint base. He cleaned off the flat brush in his jar of water, wiped the brush off on his pant leg, and dipped the brush into the fresh paint. 

“I mean, I know nothing about most art forms. I'm a chemical engineer major.” 

“So this kind of stuff is like a whole different world to me.” Zane offered Cole a small smile, seeing that Cole was indeed listening but still focusing on what was in front of him. 

“Makes sense, if it makes you feel better I know nothing about engineering.” 

“I'm horrible at math, and there's usually nothing going on up here.” Cole pointed to his brain,which made the boy next to him giggle. 

“What's the gray paint for?” Zane seemed really curious,which was a nice change of pace. Many student volunteers did it for extra credit in their classes, which is why they didn’t usually take posing seriously. Cole prayed that Zane wasn’t the same way. 

“I'm gonna paint you in grayscale; it's easier to paint in grayscale when the background is gray and not white. It's to help shading and stuff. It's like color theory so you don’t need to worry about it.” Cole mumbled biting on the end of his brush, it was a horrible habit he had. He quickly dropped the brush back into the water cup before looking at Zane again. 

“You’re very knowledgeable.” Zane hummed, leaning back in his seat once more. Cole stared at the boy for a moment. Today's class would surely be one to remember. With Zane's tall figure and piercing eyes, it was hard to look away. If only the moment could last longer, Coles Professor's voice could be heard in the distance. Once Cole came back to reality, it seemed that class was starting. Zane waved goodbye to Cole before putting back the chair where he found it. And walking to stand on the little stage in the middle of the classroom. Maybe Cole's heart had stopped beating at that moment. He wouldn’t be able to tell you. Zane stood still, his pose was relaxed yet content within itself. You could tell the boy had confidence in the way he stood so strong and proud in front of the group. 

Cole picked up his brush with haste, not wanting to miss any minute of what beauty stood in front of him. He wanted to capture Zane the way he saw him through his eyes. He wanted to be able to look back at this painting and feel like he was in this room again. To be able to feel the pin-drop moment of Zane going for his first pose forever captured in his art. Every stroke of his brush on canvas Cole could feel his heartbeat gain speed. Every glance at Zane fueled the fire that set his hand ablaze. Cole couldn't describe it but he hadn't ever felt this way while painting in his life. He loved his art; he truly did. But after turning in painting after painting, they all start to feel the same. Colors and linework start to blur together to the point where it all feels like one big blank canvas. But this was new; it was fresh. It was like experiencing snow falling from the sky for the first time. It was what he was missing: a muse.

Cole finishes up by adding his highlights, realizing that the class was coming to an end. Students around him were already getting up from their spots and washing their tools. He took a few deep breaths before standing up and looking at his work from afar. How Zane looked was there but something wasn’t right. The emotion and raw feeling he felt when he gazed at the man. The feeling in his gut didn’t happen upon looking at his work. It needed to be fixed, he thought. Picking up his utensils to be properly washed, he would dry and oil them later once he got back to his apartment. 

“Outstanding!” 

Cole jumped turning to see that Zane was now standing behind him once again. 

“You captured my likeness perfectly.” Zane marveled at the painting, looking at Cole with an enthusiastic smile. He stood puzzled before gaining his composure once more and cleaning up the rest of his mess. 

“It needs to be fixed,” Cole grumbled. Of course, the painting would look amazing to Zane, who knew nothing about art. But Cole's look at the painting troubled him. Something wasn’t right, and it was going to drive him up the wall to figure out how to fix it. 

“Nonsense, it's perfect. It's almost like I'm looking in a mirror.” Zane walked with Cole to the sink; handsome and hard-headed, huh? Cole smirked to himself for a moment before giving the boy his attention once more. 

“It's something you wouldn’t understand, but thank you. Once I fix it, I'll show you again if you’d like.” Cole offered, not only because he wanted to show off. But cause he wanted to see Zane again, he yearned to paint the boy once more. Cole didn’t think he could go on living if this was the end.  

“Hm, if you say so. I'll give you my number then.” Zane turned to unzip a small compartment in his backpack, taking out a black pen and gesturing for Cole to give him his arm. Cole flushed before extending his hand to the boy. Zane wrote his number on Cole's forearm, and Cole had to hold himself back from giggling. He was ticklish. The whole exchange felt like a fever dream. He had a hot boy’s number on his forearm like it was a tattoo inscribed into him. 

“Text me later, Okay?” 

Before he knew it, Zane was no longer in front of him, and he was standing in the elevator of his apartment. The painting grasped in one hand, and his bag slung over his shoulder were the only things keeping him grounded at this point. Oh god, what was he going to do? Cole still hadn't texted Zane out of fear of sounding like a dork. He hadn't flirted with anyone since high school, and even then, it wasnt easy. Maybe he’d send him a quick “this is Cole” and throw his phone into a pit of fire. Cole groaned upon opening the door, startling his roommate, who was in the middle of eating cereal for dinner, again. 

“Can I help you!?” Jay was irritated by Cole's abrupt entrance, coughing up the cereal he had probably accidentally swallowed.  

“You scared the shit outta me.” 

“You’re eating my cereal,” Cole said flatly. 

“Okay, carry on with your temper tantrum.” Jay giggled, hopping down from the counter to stare at Cole's arm. Grabbing it to get a closer look. 

“What the hell is that? You forget your Dads number again?” Jay smirked, dropping Cole's hand in the process. 

 “A really hot guy gave me his number.” Cole stared down at the numbers once again, remembering how it felt to have Zane grasp his arm to scribble all over him. 

“What, who? You’ve got like zero flirting skills. How the hell did you do that?” Jay sat back on the counter, getting into his comfortable position so he could be as nosy as possible. 

“Oh shut it, his name’s Zane.”

“He was modeling for my class, but we ended up chatting for a bit before we started painting.” Cole sighed, remembering that he had yet to text the boy. 

“Oh, Zane Julien? I’ve had a few classes with him before. He seemed like a nice guy, but he wasn’t very talkative. Seems like he likes you.” Jay wiggled his eyebrows at Cole giggling in the process. Cole wasn’t going to read into it, there was no use getting delusional over a guy who was way out of his league. All Cole knew was that he needed to paint Zane again. He needed to feel that adrenaline rush he felt in class earlier today. Cole hadn’t loved painting like that in months and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. 

“I doubt it. He just seemed pretty curious.” Plus, they would've never spoken if Cole had not shown up early today. It was all by luck and chance that they even got to the point they were at now. Cole thanked whoever was out there for this chance. He would cherish it with his life. 

 “I talked about art, and he just listened the whole time.” Cole thought back to the way Zane's eyes hung on every word that came out of his mouth while he rambled on. It was a new exchange; he talked about art all the time, but everyone around him was accustomed to the same monotone topics. But the look on Zane's face had shown that the boy was genuinely interested.

“You art nerds are all hopeless. I'm going to bed. Thank you for dinner.” Jay dropped his cereal bowl into the sink before making his way to his bedroom. 

“Don’t think you dont owe me a new box!” Cole shouted from the kitchen, finally taking off his shoes and hoodie to store in the closet. He grasped the painting in his hands once more, taking it to his room for further inspection. It would be for the best if he could figure out what was wrong tonight so at least by tomorrow, he could paint over his mistakes. 

Cole placed the painting on his easel, taking out the paintbrushes that he had hastily cleaned earlier. 

“I'll oil you guys in a few,” Cole spoke to them as if they were alive. He walked over to his bed to grab his personal sketchbook from under his pillow to practice drawing the parts of the painting he deemed lacking emotion. Cole opened up to a blank page, already biting at the end of his pencil while he stared at his painting of Zane 

“Oh wait! I need to text him.” Cole's heart began to pang again. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. He had a hard enough time making the friends he had. To be fair, Kai and Jay had approached him, but still. Talking to new people wasn’t even in his top ten favorite things to do. Cole stared at his text for what felt like hours before hitting send. It was a simple “Hey, this is Cole.” Which he cringed over once he sent it. Should he have been funnier or at least tried to strike up a conversation? Was it too late to send a text? Maybe Zane was already sleeping and he’d accidentally woke the boy by texting him now and not earlier. All the possibilities of what he could've done to annoy Zane had popped into his head before his phone pinged within seconds of sending. 

“I thought you weren't going to text me for a second there.” 

“I'm happy you messaged me, though; I'm looking forward to seeing that painting again.” Zane had sent. 

Cole probably read over the message a million times before even thinking of answering. He wants to see his work! Coles grasped the edge of his desk, feeling faint for a moment before going to answer Zane's text. 

“I'm working on it as we speak.” 

“I mean text.” Cole wanted to bite his hand off. 

“Oh wow, do you need any help?” Cole's brows knit together, help? What could Zane possibly help him with?

“What do you mean?”

“I can send you a picture.” Cole had to stop himself from punching a hole in his desk. He could feel how hot his face was getting just from the thought of Zane sending him a selfie. 

“If you’re comfortable with that, then sure.” Cole practically choked on the pencil he was once again chewing when the photo came threw.

It wasnt anything crazy; Zane was sitting a his desk, it looked like. Wearing glasses that framed his face perfectly with a soft smile on his face. Cole could've died right there and then. 

“Okay, nice. Thank you. I'll get back to work now.” Cole threw his phone across his room and onto his bed. His face burned so hot that he couldn’t bear to see the response to what he had just sent. He needed to focus if he ever wanted to capture Zane's likeness correctly he needed to focus. 

Cole couldn't focus. In every class that week, he’d been doodling Zane's face all over his notebooks. When he was at home, he’d stare at the painting till it made his head hurt. And now he was at lunch once again sketching Zane's face in his sketchbook. It was like an addiction, even when he was aimlessly doodling in the margins of his notes it would slowly turn into Zane's face. And the sick joke was that he still wasn’t able to fix his painting. He probably repainted the face over a thousand times now, and yet it never felt right. 

“You need medical attention.” Jay picked up Cole's sketchbook, flicking through the various pages of Zane’s face. Kai stood next to him holding both his and Jay's trays. Quickly looking over Jay's shoulder before placing the food down to sit. 

“Zane Julien? I didn’t know you guys were dating.” Kai smirked, putting up his hand to give Cole a high-five. 

“We’re not dating. And give me that. Your greasy french fry fingers will ruin it.” Cole snatched the book out of Jay's hand, smoothing out the pages that Jay's filthy fingers had touched. 

“I painted him in my still life class, and I'm trying to fix my painting.” Cole sighed. It was gonna take all semester to fix it if he kept obsessing like this. He couldn't help it, though Zane was just too, everything. He was everything and nothing all at once. It was like trying to paint an angel. 

“And you’re drawing hearts around his face because?” Kai teased him, taking out the lettuce and tomatoes from his burger to put on Jay’s plate. 

“You’re not funny.” Cole glared at Kai, stealing one of the fries off his plate in the process. 

“He has a crush, I fear. I don’t know why you don’t just ask Zane on a date.” 

“Are you crazy! We barely know each other.” 

“Yeah,and that’s what dates are for,no?” Jay rolled his eyes, shoveling more fries into his mouth. 

“You beat down on yourself too much, Cole. I think you’re a great catch once you get over your whole obsessive nature. You’re a pretty swell guy.” 

“Gee thanks, maybe I'll call him up right now. Ask him to go out for tea and biscuits.” Cole rolled his eyes, flicking to the next blank page in his sketchbook to begin his ritual once again.

 He didn’t want to admit it out loud just yet, but slowly, he’d grown feelings for his muse. Zane kept sending him selfies throughout the week, and he’d ask questions about art techniques. To say Cole didn’t find it amusing would be a big fat lie. Sometimes, he’d send pictures of his sketches of Zane, only the ones he deemed somewhat acceptable. Yet every time, Zane would tell him that they were astonishing, wonderful, or marvelous. But never perfect. And perfection was what Cole was aiming for even if it killed him.

Cole opened the door to his life painting class, walking over to his stool of choice to set down his bag as he usually did. Except this time, someone else was sitting in his spot. 

“Zane, are you here to pose again?” Zane practically beamed, nodding when Cole began to speak. Zane was too bright, and it was killing him. They hadn't talked in person in a week. 

Cole couldn't look away. 

“I enjoyed posing so much last week I signed up again.” 

“I’m surprised they picked me again so soon, though; I don’t think I did an outstanding job. But I’m grateful to be invited back. I get to watch you work again.” Zane grinned, getting up from Cole’s stool so that Cole could have a proper seat. Cole was dumbfounded, standing there in a complete state of shock. The boy was too humble. Zane had done far more than an outstanding job in Cole's eyes. Little did Zane know he had constructed a great challenge for Cole just from his existence. Zane was going to be the death of him. 

“Well, I'm glad you're back. I’ll make my painting look flawless this time.” Cole was aiming for perfection, and he would achieve it today. 

After looking at pictures of Zane and drawing the boy all week, there was no way he could mess it up this time around. Zane chuckled to himself, presumably at Cole’s response, and moved to grab the empty stool next to him. 

“And I was thinking after this, if you’d like, we could go out for pizza?” How was it so easy for Zane to reduce Cole down to stuttering and mumbling? His head shot up from his canvas to look at his friend, only staying puzzled for a moment before contemplating what this could entail. Was he being asked on a date? No, it wasn’t possible. This was just friends going out for pizza. Yeah, a friendly pizza outing was surely not a date at all. Cole's thoughts raced around his head before coming to a crash once he realized he was still staring at Zane, yet to give him an answer. 

“Uh yeah, sure, I love pizza! I know a great spot, actually.” They could go out for pizza, and then maybe Cole could conveniently lead him to his favorite bakery across the street. They knew him there because he’d often stopped by after a rough day for a slice of cake. Taking Zane there would make the place even more special. 

“Okay, I’ll let you lead the way then. Looks like it's time to take my place.” Zane looked over at Cole’s professor walking into the classroom, drawing everyone else's attention. But Cole couldn’t help but keep his eyes on Zane. 

“Good luck with your painting, then, Cole.” Zane smiled down at Cole before making his way back to the stage in the middle of the room,, just like he had a week ago. Cole smiled weakly, feeling like the wind had just been knocked out of him. He still needed to finish prepping his canvas, but talking with Zane had distracted him. 

Cole swiftly brushed on the rest of the primer needed for the canvas, waiting a few moments before he started his light gray base layer. Cole took out his sketchbook while he waited, looking down at his attempts to ideally capture Zane's likeness. Sure, the drawings all looked like Zane, but the radiance that bounced off Zane when he walked into a room was extremely hard to capture, to the point where it felt like it was something Cole was imagining. Cole let out a long sigh before taking the end of his brush out of his mouth and lifting his head to catch a glimpse of Zane.   

Zane's gaze was locked on Cole. For the rest of the class, he could be looking anywhere. But for Cole, he had become Zane's performer. It was like the roles had suddenly switched: Cole, the model, and Zane, the painter. It was nerve-racking. Cole cleared his throat, face flushing as he fixed his gaze back onto his canvas. Painting, yes, he knew how to paint, and that's what he should be doing right now. Cole picked up his brush once more, trying to gain focus again.  

Except Zane’s gaze could’ve burned through his canvas and into his brain. It was hard to look away when he sneaked glances to paint what he was seeing. Zane stood there effortlessly posing, posing for Cole. It felt like they were the only two in the room left. 

“Come on, Cole, you’ve done this a million times already.” He mumbled to himself. To capture true beauty was a virtue of labor and love. Something Cole had never experienced, and the obsession for perfection began once more. Every angle and line needed to emulate exactly what he saw in front of him, who he saw in front of him. Perfection.  

The painting was done, and once again, it was lacking. If Cole could cut his hand off, he would. He shouldn't even be allowed to pick up a paintbrush ever again. Classmates around him had already begun to pack up while Cole sat there staring at everything he would need to fix back at the apartment. Back to square one, he thought. 

“Looks like all that practice helped. This one’s even superior to the other.” Zane grinned, looking over Cole's shoulder to gawk at his work. 

“I could do better,” Cole mumbled, not wanting to annoy Zane with his negativity. He wanted to show Zane how he saw him. 

“It needs tweaking, but it's alright for now. I’ll be able to figure out the problem areas once I take it home.” Cole wasnt looking in Zane's direction while he spoke out of fear of embarrassing himself more than he already did. 

“Would you like me to help you clean those?” Zane pointed to the various paint-covered brushes that sat on his easel. He usually didn't let others touch or clean them, but he couldn’t say no to Zane. 

“Sure, thanks; I'll teach you how to clean them properly.” Cole smiled crookedly, handing Zane a few of his brushes to take to the sink. They stood almost shoulder to shoulder while Cole instructed him. 

“You never want to go against the grain when cleaning a brush, or else the bristles will start to fly out. When a brush becomes frayed like that it's harder to use since the points are no longer sharp.” Cole cradled his brush in hand-washing away all his hard work from today. 

“These look pretty new, you take great care of them, huh?” Zane marveled following Cole's technic word for word. 

“I bought these brushes my freshman year, actually. Good brushes are expensive so it's important to practice proper care. You throw away fewer brushes that way. When I get home I usually oil the bristles and leave them out to hang dry. That way they stay intact longer.” Cole recited this speech like he had done it a million times before. Because he had. Jay would always complain when Cole would leave his brushes hanging in the kitchen, causing him to buy a proper paintbrush rack to hang his brushes from instead. 

“Seems like an extensive process. But also somewhat relaxing to do. Kinda like a ritual, after you create you take care of the tools that helped you make art.” Zane bumped his shoulder into Cole briefly before finishing up the paintbrush he was cleaning. 

“What do you think? Up to your standards?” Zane waved the brush in front of Cole’s face causing him to giggle. 

“It's perfect. I'll pat them dry and then we can head out.” Cole tried to compose himself, he couldn't believe he was hanging out with Zane outside of class. The closeness that they were suddenly sharing was new to Cole. It made his head spin with thoughts of where this all could be going. Had Zane been flirting with him or was he just hoping that’s what was happening? He couldn't tell on his own. And for the safety of his heart, he’d have to assume Zane was just being friendly. 

  They took separate cars to get there but the closeness they shared in the classroom had continued to make its appearance at the restaurant. Sharing a large cheese pizza Cole couldn’t wrap his head around how his life had changed so much so quickly. 

“My Father is a robotics specialist so that’s what influenced me to go into some form of science. When I was younger I wanted to be a zoologist but as I got older chemistry began to appeal to me more. Chemical Engineering seemed like the right path to go down. I'm loving it so far though. The science behind it all is always so captivating. I assume that's how you feel about your art?” Zane swirled his straw around in his soda, mixing the ice into his drink for it to become colder than before. 

Cole couldn't help but stare at the way Zane's words lingered on his lips as he spoke. Trying to soak up everything he could while this moment between them lasted. So he could go home tonight and replay their conversation like it was his own personal TV show. 

“Uh well, not really but.” Cole snapped out of his trance realizing the question at hand.

“My old mans a musician, he actually wanted me to go into dance but it wasn’t for me. Being around art all my life still influenced me to become a creative though. I loved drawing as a kid and even wrote a few comic books in high school.”

“But art college, like…drains the life out of creativity. We produce so much in such a short amount of time it really takes the “art” out of creating for me. I don’t know, maybe that's just me.” Cole signed, digging into his now third slice of cheese pizza. 

Though meeting Zane had lit a fire in him, he didn’t know he lost. In high school, painting or drawing every day was nothing to him. But when theirs a grade that's gonna be slapped onto your hard work at the end of the day. It makes it difficult to care about what you’re producing.  

“No, I understand. You have no drive to do the thing you love when you’re being forced to do it, right?” Zane understood him like no other. When he spoke about art block with his colleagues, they always told him to just go back to the basics till he felt comfortable to create again. It wasnt that simple to Cole thought; creating was like a relationship to him. When the art stopped speaking to him was there truly a reason to continue? 

“Yeah, it stopped being as fun as it used to be.” Cole sighed. 

“But, does that make you hate painting?” Zane observed Cole waiting on every word that threatened to come out of the boy's mouth.

“Well, as of late, No. Not really, painting for me was very, plain. The same process over and over. Cast your canvas, prime the canvas, get to work, and clean and oil the brushes like an endless loop. But-” Cole stopped himself in fear of sharing too much with Zane. 

“But-?” Zane was smirking waiting for Cole to spill out his truth.  

“I’ve gained a muse, I think.” Cole covered his face, it being obvious that Zane was the one who sparked his love for creation once more. 

“Oh really now? Well, I'm glad you got your spark back.” 

“I can tell by the way you paint that you put every ounce of your soul into your creation; it's truly captivating,” Zane smirked, finishing up the last piece of food left on his plate. Cole almost choked on his pizza. Forgetting that Zane was watching Cole as much as he had been watching Zane today. Cole cleared his throat before speaking again. 

“Would you be up to getting dessert? I know a great place in the area.” Cole offered to pay as well since the original plan was to just get pizza and head their separate ways. 

“I could go for something sweet. Why not.” Zane stood up from the table, waiting for Cole to take the lead once again. They stood close to each other walking side by side in the autumn air. It took every fiber of Cole’s being to stop himself from slipping his hand into Zanes. For all he wanted was to be interlocked with him. 

“I usually come here for a slice of cake, but I’ve heard their other pastries are good too.” Cole already had his heart set on the chocolate cake slice. It practically had his name on it when he went to grab it. 

“I'm not big on sweets, but that matcha cupcake looks pretty good.” Zane pointed at the cupcakes in the display, pressing his side into Cole in the process. Cole froze for a moment before relaxing once again. He was overreacting; nothing out of the ordinary was even happening right now. They were looking at cakes,for God's sake. After Cole paid for both their sweets, they walked out of the shop together eating their treats and sitting on a random street bench. 

“You should try mine. It's quite good.” Zane held the cupcake up to Cole's mouth, catching him off guard in the moment. Zane had already taken a bite. And if Cole were to eat some, too, it would almost be like an indirect kiss. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Zane held the cupcake for Cole while he took a bite, trying to stop his head from spinning. The enjoyment of the delicious cake quickly took over, though. He hummed, nodding his head in the process. 

“Do you want some of mine?” Cole offered, though he only had one fork. He cursed himself for even bringing it up, realizing how weird it would be for them to share a fork.

“If you don’t mind.” Zane took the fork from his hand, taking a quick bite of Coles cake, repeating the same actions Cole had done when he tasted the other cake as well. 

“Delicious.” 

Cole watched Zane lick the chocolate from his lips. He could feel his face getting warmer. Thankfully, it was a little chilly out, or else it would've looked like he was blushing although he wasnt fooling anyone.

Cole left his classes early that day solely to work on his painting. Now that he had painted Zane twice, there was no way he could mess it up a third time as they say third times a charm. Cole had been cooped up in his room all afternoon, staring at his painting with his now blank canvas in the middle. 

“This is hopeless.” Cole groaned, spinning around in his swivel chair for a moment. His phone buzzed on his desk, causing him to jump to answer it. Any distraction would be perfect right now. As much as we wanted to create perfection, he didn’t know what he’d do to himself if he sat in that same position for another hour. 

“Hey, are you busy right now? My class got out early,and I was wondering if you would be free to hang out for a bit.” 

Cole almost dropped his brush when he heard Zane's voice when he answered the phone. Oh god, he wanted to hang out, but he was already painting; he couldn't just leave.  

“Uh wait- I uh.” Why couldn’t he form words!? It was just Zane. They had talked countless times, just not on the phone out of the blue like this. 

“If you're busy right now, it's okay. We can hang out some other time.”

“No wait! We can hang out, how about you come to my apartment.” Cole blurted out that last part. Oh god, he wasn’t thinking. This place was a big mess because of Jay’s “little” party last night. And he still had all his painting supplies out. 

“Sure sounds great. Just send me your address, and I'll tell you when I'm on my way.” Zane hung up right after, causing Cole to jump outta his seat in panic. 

“Oh god, what am I gonna do!” Cole walked out of his room to begin working on the living room and kitchen. He promptly texts Zane his address before actually getting to work. The place was a mess. Plastic cups and leftover pizza boxes littered the apartment with its presence. 

“I'm going to kill Jay.” 

What should have taken less than an hour ended up taking all of Cole's time. There were grease stains on the couch he needed to get out. And sticky soda residue that was left on various areas of the kitchen. By the time he was finished, his phone began to buzz again. A text glowing on the screen had shown Cole that Zane was already heading up in the elevator. 

He looked like a mess, and he was going to meet Zane at the door like this! Cole quickly made his way to the kitchen sink, splashing his face a few times before drying it off with a paper towel. His hair was going to have to stay a little miss shapen, but it wasn’t like it hadn’t looked worse on a regular day. 

A knock was heard at the door when Cole finished pruning himself. He collected himself, breathing in and out before opening the door for Zane. 

“Hey”

“Hi” 

They stood in the doorway, grinning at each other for what felt like forever before Cole realized he hadn’t let Zane inside. 

“Don’t mind the mess, Jay had a party here last night.” Cole groaned, leading Zane into the living room. He spent so much time cleaning that it almost looked like nothing had happened here the night prior. 

“I wouldn't be able to tell. Your place is way more spacious than mine.” Zane looked around the room,taking in all the personality. Cole and Jay could barely afford to decorate, so they put up what cheap posters they could. Cole’s posters were various dad rock bands, and Jay's were posters of all those Sci-fi movies he loved to watch so much.             

“Were you busy before I got here? It sounded like you were doing something on the phone.” Zane giggled, bringing his attention back to Cole instead of the various nerdy merchandise around the apartment.

“I was just painting.” Wait! He didn’t clean up his work or his brushes. His brushes had probably already begun to dry with the paint that was left on them. 

“Oh, wait, my brushes!” Cole stood up abruptly and hastily made his way back into his room. Thankfully, his brushes weren't too dry yet; he could save them by washing them in hot water. 

“Oh, you’re still working on those?” Cole turned around slightly to see Zane peering around him to look at his paintings of himself. If this was any other circumstance this would’ve been extremely weird. 

“I was actually trying to paint a third one. I wanted a fresh start this time around, especially since I already painted you twice.” Cole spoke meekly, trying to clean off his brushes in the water jar he already had sitting out. Zane now stood beside him, looking at the paintings that stood at Cole's desk. 

“Why dont I pose for you then? It’ll be just like class, and you can take all the time you want. You said it was easier when you had more time to stare, right?” Zane went to sit on the edge of Cole's bed, getting into a pose. Cole needed to pinch himself cause he must've been dreaming. 

“Hold that pose right there.” Cole immediately got into his painting head space. No classroom, no distractions, just them. He couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. He quickly began to work marking out the silhouette of Zane first before adding in all his beautiful features. Cole paused for a moment, lightly chewing on the end of his brush before looking at Zane once again. 

“I can tell you’re deep in thought when you start chewing at the end of your brush.” Zane chortled. Cole flushed, briefly taking the brush out of his mouth. 

“It's a bad habit of mine.” Cole chuckled weakly, bringing his attention back to his canvas. 

“I think it's cute. And you always pinch your brows together every time you do it. And then your eyes light up when you figure out what to do next.” Zane gazed at Cole, watching him do exactly what he just recalled. If Cole's face could get any more red, he’d be a lobster. Cole was adding in the shadows now. It wouldn't take too long to do so since his room was well-lit. It was the highlights he was more or so worried about. But so far, he was feeling good about what he’d already accomplished. Out of every painting and drawing of Zane he’d done up until now, this one invoked the most of what he felt. 

“Cole, when you were talking about muses the other day. I was wondering what or who had become your muse?” Zane had stopped looking at him for a second before back at Cole once again. The question had made Cole stop painting for a moment. Maybe he could tell Zane, and things would stay the same. What was the worst thing that could possibly happen? Zane would find out that Cole had a massive crush on him and a meteor would come crashing down to the earth. Cole snapped out of his deep thoughts. Everything was going to be fine. 

“You, Zane. You’re my muse. If only you could see the way you look through my eyes.” 

“You’re so captivating to me that it's hard to…capture your perfection.” Cole finished painting, realizing that he’d finally done it. This was it; it was perfect. The radiance and glow were all there. Just like the real Zane the painting was also taking his breath away. 

“Perfect, it's perfect.” The biggest grin grew on Cole's face, after weeks of trial and error he’d finally done it. Zane stood beside him now looking at the painting the Cole was ever so proud of.  

“What do you think, Zane? It looks exactly like y-!” 

Cole didn’t know how he ended up with Zane's arms surrounding him, pinning him against his desk. Their faces were partially touching, yet nothing had progressed. Zane stared longingly into his eyes before leaning in to plant a slow and delicate kiss on Cole's lips. Even his kisses were perfect. Before Cole could reciprocate the kiss, Zane was already pulling off of him. 

“I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it. It's just, with the way you were talking I-.” 

Cole cut him off, enveloping them both in a kiss once more, except this time deeper, after staring at pictures, drawings, and paintings of Zane for days, he finally had the real thing in front of him—they were kissing! The edge of his desk was digging into his back, but he didn’t care. Zane had taken over all his senses, and he was swimming in it. 

Cole broke the kiss mainly so he could speak once more and also because he felt he would faint if they continued. 

“Zane, if I'm being honest. I can't get you outta my mind. And as much as I would love to continue making out with you. I need to ask if you’d go out with me first.” Cole sounded like a dork, and he knew it. If Zane hadn’t boxed him in, he would’ve covered his face. He was forced to stare directly into the light that was Zane.

Zane smiled sweetly at him before leaving a peck on the apple of Cole's cheek. 

"That would be perfect."