Work Text:
Scott enters his dorm with a huff. It's later than he intended to get back from hanging out with his friends--around 2 in the morning--and he's really not in the mood to do anything but have a snack and then go to bed.
His dorm is silent, save for the hum of a fan and the faint sound of someone watching TV in the next dorm over. Martyn is surely long asleep, and Scott makes an effort not to wake him up.
He doesn't have the energy to pester himself about why he takes that so seriously. Scott's crush on Martyn wasn't a secret to anyone but Martyn himself, it's become natural that he avoids doing anything that could even slightly bother the blonde.
With tired motions, Scott grabs a granola bar from the kitchen and heads off to his room. Sleep gnaws at his mind.
It's not until he's slumped into his bed, checking his phone, does his heart sink to his stomach fiercely.
There's a notification on his phone from a few hours ago--a reminder. For his final project. Due the next day.
The same final project that he hadn't started on account of various things that had unfortunately prevented him. First illness, then family issues, then more that he couldn't be bothered to remember. And he would have worked through it. Scott isn't one to fall behind on his work even if he's completely bedridden. But to his disdain, he was convinced by an oh so gentle dormmate to let himself relax.
He's certainly regretting it now.
The notification stares back at him as he groans and drags his hands down his face in frustration. He can't just not do anything about it, but it's a little bit difficult to finish an entire final only hours before it's meant to be turned in--especially with the nature of the project's requirements.
It's even harder to find a focus for a full-body portrait at two in the morning when your only option is your sleeping roommate who you desperately do not want to wake.
For a moment, Scott wishes he were straight. This would be far less complicated.
Unfortunately there's only one option here to save himself. And it involves a Martyn who may not even want to help. And honestly, Scott would understand. Nobody really wants to be completely still for hours on end.
With a sigh, Scott sits up and gets out of bed. Begrudgingly, he enters Martyn's room, to be met with a sleeping figure as expected.
"Martyn?" Scott's voice is barely above a whisper. He may need him awake, but he wasn't about to be rude about it. Martyn doesn't seem to wake at all. "Martyn?" Scott repeats, just a bit louder. Martyn's form stirs slightly.
"...Scott?" Martyn's voice is hoarse and sleepy, but theres a tinge of emotion to it. Maybe a bit of worry. Scott pretends not to feel the flutter in his heart.
"Hey. Really sorry to wake you. I need your help, if you're alright with it," Scott mutters. Martyn sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes and nodding in acknowledgement. Scott breathes in heavily. "I... May have forgotten about my final. And may need your help to... model for it, basically. If you're up for it, of course."
"...What time is it?"
"A bit after two..."
"Shit, that sucks."
"I know... If you don't want to, it's fine. I know it's boring."
"No, no--I can help. It's your final. I'm not gonna let you fail," Martyn hurriedly reassures. "What do you need me to do?" He gets out of bed, almost stumbling. His enthusiasm shocks Scott deeply.
"Well--I just need you to pose and stay like that, really. It could take hours, but you could just pose laying down if you wanted," Scott tries to make it sound less insufferable in hopes of Martyn not backing out. It seems to work as he nods.
"Do I have to be nude?" Martyn asks.
"What???"
"I mean--aren't most full body portraits, like, naked?? Isn't this what that is???" Martyn hurriedly tries to defend his question.
"No?! Why would you agree to this if you thought about that and wouldn't be okay with it?!"
"Well, I mean--I wouldn't not be okay with it. If it helps, it helps."
It does occur to Scott that the painting would likely provoke more emotion that way. It does, also, occur to Scott that he'd have to be looking at Martyn without his clothes for hours--not to mention the fact he has to be normal about it. He already thinks about Martyn shirtless daily, he doesn't need an image to go along with it and detrack his thoughts all the time!
On the other hand, he needs that grade.
"...If you are okay with it, it may be better if you are... naked. Only if you actually want to, though, I can make it work if not," Scott assures, flicking on the light to the main room of their dorm. Martyn follows.
"Trust me, I'm more than fine with taking my clothes off and getting to lay down for a few hours. May even fall asleep," Martyn huffs out a laugh. Scott would laugh too if he wasn't nervous about this.
He sets up his easel, placing a blank canvas and setting out various materials. He can see Martyn enter the bathroom in his peripheral vision.
Right. So he was really committing to this. He really doesn’t need to be going this far to help out–Scott’s baffled. However, he doesn’t have time to question it.
He also doesn’t have time to consider stopping himself from muttering an oh wow when Martyn exits the bathroom.
“Speechless, are we?” Martyn teases. “Not little, as the last name would suggest, huh?” He laughs at his own joke.
“Oh shut it. We have to work,” Scott deflects in a desperate attempt to hide the flush on his face. Martyn is already a handsome guy, but Scott did not expect him to be an all-around ten. He’s well-built, a definite sleeper build–chubby, but you can tell that there’s absolutely muscle beneath it. There’s a small mark on his hip that he can’t make out, but saves the information for later. Scott wonders if Martyn could pick him up with one arm. “Lay down on the couch. Make sure you can hold the pose for a few hours.”
Martyn splays out on the couch, his head rested against a pillow on the armrest–one of his arms lies at his side, the other placed on his stomach. One of his legs is laid out carelessly while the other is half-up. He faces the easel, looking past and at Scott. There’s a smile on his face that makes Scott’s face warm again.
“Do you reckon this’ll really take you hours?” Martyn questions as Scott begins.
“Yeah, probably, it’s not easy work. Kind of mad at myself for not starting it sooner.”
“Oh, come on. You needed a break. You always overwork yourself, Scott, what’s one procrastinated final?” Martyn reassures. “Besides, this is like a bonding experience if you think about it. Not every day you paint your roommate without clothes on! Premium experience!”
Scott does laugh at this. Martyn’s nothing if not comical with his reassuring comments.
This kind of was a premium experience actually. A premium experience for him to think about for the next few years of his life. Yeah, that one time he had to paint his college roommate, who he was actively crushing on. Without clothes.
Whatever. Maybe he’s overthinking this. He just needs to work, it’ll figure itself out. Can’t get any worse.
It isn’t difficult to get started. The background is simple, just a couch against a mostly-blank wall and a lamp right beside it.
Scott is mildly adventurous with color, adding in shades he wouldn’t usually use just for fun. May as well try and make the painting look unique to make up for its lack of actual planning.
Martyn, as the focus himself, is not particularly hard to paint. In fact, working out his form comes very easily to Scott, the shapes practically appearing on the canvas before he even realizes.
“Real quiet worker, are you, Scott?” Martyn’s voice snaps Scott out of a laser-focus he didn’t even realize he was in.
“Yeah, I guess,” Scott confirms. “Hard to converse while I’m focused.”
“How’s it lookin’?”
“It’s coming together well, might take me less time than I anticipated, actually.”
“Is it fun?” Martyn’s question is laced with genuine intrigue.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve said before you find painting people fun, am I fun to paint?” There’s a lot of emotion behind Martyn’s words, one Scott can’t pinpoint–but somehow he thinks it might be one of desire. What kind, Scott is unsure.
“You are,” Scott confirms, looking past the canvas and into Martyn’s eyes. “You’re very pleasant to paint. Light brush strokes, vibrant color–I am really enjoying myself over here,” He punctuates his sentence with a smile. Martyn smiles back, and the sight makes Scott’s head fuzzy.
“Thank you,” Martyn mumbles sincerely.
“I do have a question, though,” Scott points towards Martyn’s hip with a paintbrush. “When did you get a tattoo?”
Martyn looks to where Scott points for a moment, before the dots connect in his head. “Right! Yeah, I don’t think I ever told you about that. Ren did that for me one night while we were drunk.”
“Is that why it’s so… Disfigured? What even is it? I can’t tell from here.”
“It’s a D20… Unfortunately Ren’s not a professional with stick-and-poke and he’s even worse at it while drunk.”
“As you would expect,” Scott jokes, “Does he have one too?”
“Yeah, I did his. It’s not the same one though, he had me do some weird little banner symbol he came up with. It came out better than mine, so I guess he kind of wins there,” Martyn laughs towards the end of his sentence, making Scott smile just a bit more.
Scott makes sure he adds in the detail of Martyn’s tattoo, as invisible as it should be in this dim lighting.
It’s oddly relaxing to paint while simply talking.
And by now, he could be done. Martyn’s portrait is done, the background is done–it’s been two and a half hours and Scott’s back is aching, but something stops him from letting the painting be done. The light conversation and quiet environment are so comforting that he doesn’t want to be done. He wants this to go on.
He wants to be close with Martyn like this more.
Well, that’s not exactly a new fact for him. He’s been in love with Martyn for ages. But to be within a moment that tugs at his heart like this makes him want the blonde more.
Scott doesn’t think he’s going to be able to function normally after this, but whatever.
He continues painting, despite it being unnecessary. He adds in little details, ones surely Martyn would recognize, just anything he can add to let him stay in this moment for longer.
“How much longer, do you think? I don’t know how much longer I can stay still like this,” Martyn breaks the silence. Scott sighs softly.
“I think it’s pretty much done,” Scott hesitantly declares. “If you want to go back to sleep, go right ahead.”
“Really?” Martyn is up within a moment, coming over to look at it. Clearly he’s become very comfortable without his clothes on. Scott flushes. Usually he’d have a flirty comment for this kind of situation, but he finds himself speechless. Clearly it’s time for some sleep.
Martyn gasps in awe at the finished product, and Scott catches his eye glancing towards the tattoo that he painstakingly added.
“That’s fucking amazing, Scott. You’re definitely passing,” Martyn’s in awe, and it’s only then that Scott is reminded this was for his final.
Right. He has to make sure he’s ready to submit this at the start of class.
“Thank you, I’m actually decently proud of it. But I have to bring this to class in a few hours, and I haven’t slept, so… Excuse me as I go pass out in bed,” Scott mutters as he stands and walks past Martyn to disappear into his bedroom. Martyn gives him a thumbs up and a small goodnight.
Closing the door behind him, Scott sighs heavily. What was any of that? His final is done and he’s fairly confident he’ll pass, but oh god. He’s already thinking about Martyn in a less-than-clothed fashion than usual.
Whatever. Surely it’ll get better after some sleep, he thinks, before flopping down onto his bed and falling asleep almost instantly.
Scott did, in fact, pass his final. With flying colors, actually. And this was great for him, but needless to say there was a bit of tension between him and Martyn afterwards.
Oftentimes, when Scott wasn’t practically hiding in his room away from him, Martyn would catch Scott aiming glances at him. Every time, Scott would quickly face away and try his very hardest to hide the blush on his face. But Martyn had never brought it up–never even made a stupid remark about it–which made Scott more worryful than it should.
It wasn’t difficult to tell that Scott was thinking about that night. Scott was sure Martyn could tell. He wasn’t quite sure why Martyn never brought it up, though–this is exactly the kind of thing he loves to joke about. But the blonde was pretty much silent every time he caught Scott looking at him.
It was hard not to think about that night, in Scott’s opinion. It lingers in his memory deeply, winding itself into every chain of thought Scott has throughout the day. Martyn did look absolutely stunning in the dim dorm lighting, and the smoothness of his skin made him practically glow–a glow that was also enhanced by the soft curves of his body.
Oh how he wished to drape that elegant form in care and love. Scott desperately wanted to kiss him all over, to put it bluntly. He didn’t think he would ever be able to find Martyn even more attractive, but he sure was being proven wrong.
About two weeks go by of Martyn and Scott practically tip-toeing around each other, Scott making sure to walk on eggshells whenever he even so much as speaks to the other to ensure he doesn’t slip up. There’s really no way for him to know if anything would make Martyn uncomfortable–a compliment about his body, maybe a reminder of that night–despite Martyn’s seemingly confident behavior that night, Scott can’t be 100% sure that the blonde wasn’t simply tired and delirious.
One day–a Tuesday, to be specific–Martyn knocks on the door to Scott’s room. Laying in bed casually, Scott practically jumps. Martyn doesn’t usually disturb him while in his room, rather waiting for the next time he exits to bring up whatever he needs to. It’s usually only for dire, time-restricted necessity, in which he just opens the door unannounced and quickly calls out whatever is important.
“Come in?” Scott calls, watching the door handle turn and open to reveal Martyn, who does in fact come in. He sits on Scott’s bed, looking to Scott, who is sat against the headboard.
“Hey,” Martyn greets softly. “I wanted to see if you want to go out for lunch?” His tone is awfully gentle, but Scott can sense a tiny bit of unnerve beneath it. Scott’s brow furrows in confusion. Typically Ren brings Martyn to lunch…
“Is Ren alright with that? Wouldn’t want to disturb your guys’ nerd talk,” Scott questions, unsure.
“No Ren, just us.”
“I mean, what’s the occasion?” Scott snickers, “We hardly go out to eat, just the two of us.”
“I thought it’d be a nice change of pace?”
Scott thinks for a moment. “Yeah, I’ll go,” He stands up and ignores his heart thrumming in his chest. “Could we try out that new place?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Martyn agrees, standing up and heading to the door. “I’m gonna go get ready.”
“Right.”
As soon as Martyn closes the door behind him, Scott sighs heavily. He cuts his own racing thoughts off with another–this is a chance to ask Martyn about what's been going on between them recently. Figure out if something went wrong, if Martyn is upset with him, if there’s something that needs to be mended.
He stands, opens his wardrobe, and picks out an outfit. He ignores any thoughts that may entertain the idea of this going badly. Scott is acutely aware of how out-of-the-blue this is. Martyn doesn’t typically go out with anyone but Ren and those other D&D nerds.
Of course, he and Martyn have hung out before, but usually among a group. Despite being roommates, being close friends and having known each other for most of their college lives–this is new.
When Scott is ready to leave, he’s in a vaguely casual outfit. Well, as casual as an outfit by Scott can be. He sports a light blue t-shirt with floral patterning, a deep purple cardigan, and some simple loose-fitting black pants. He makes sure to add a few simple jewelry pieces to match.
When he leaves the room, Martyn is waiting for him by the door, dressed in a lime sleeveless turtleneck and sweatpants.
“Looking good,” Scott comments, trying not to be overly weird. But in his mind, he’d be saying much more than that. The top fits Martyn perfectly, and gives a wonderful view of his arms.
Scott pretends not to see Martyn’s face go a tad red after that comment. He chooses to focus on grabbing his wallet and–
“Don’t worry about bringing your wallet, I’ll pay. My treat,” Martyn cuts off his train of thought.
Scott snickers. “What is this, a date?” He lets the joke slip without realizing it. Martyn goes quiet. Scott’s heart sinks for a moment.
“Let’s go,” Martyn’s tone is quieter. Scott almost apologizes for a moment. He bites his tongue.
The lunch is fine. Martyn pays as promised, and Scott makes sure to express his gratitude. But they don’t go directly back home, rather Martyn suggests they go on a walk together. Scott accepts.
It’s a nice afternoon, the breeze is just right and it’s not particularly hot out. There’s a soft scent of flowers in the air, recent blooms seeping into the warm air.
Both of them are silent for a decent amount of time, Scott fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves. The silence is nervewracking, and he avoids even looking towards Martyn.
“Scott?” Martyn breaks the silence, making Scott jump slightly. He shivers slightly at the sudden call, as he hears Martyn’s tone change slightly. It's a tad solemn.
“Yeah?” Scott breathily responds, trying not to fidget with the buttons of his cardigan.
“You remember that night you painted me?” Martyn’s words have an uneven silence between each of them, as if he’s thinking deeply before even daring to speak them. Scott’s heart drops slightly, his gaze averting Martyn’s own.
“I do,” Scott confirms. “Why do you ask?”
“That didn't change anything between us, did it?” There’s a silence before Martyn breaks it. “Something’s been different lately. And I can’t seem to figure out what. Part of me worries I made you uncomfortable, and if that’s the case, I want to at least make it up to you or something.”
Scott huffs out an uneven breath. Guess he won’t be the one bringing that up. Deep down, he knows that technically no, nothing changed–but he is also aware of how he’d been behaving ever since. Something is different. And it is something that Martyn deserves to know.
But there's a sting in his chest–fear, of course–urging him to be careful. He fears Martyn’s rejection, as expected, especially since they live together. Scott’s heart thumps in his chest painfully deep, at a rhythm that makes him wonder if he's about to faint.
“Well,” Scott’s voice shakes, and his words feel like they’re being dragged out of his mouth as he speaks. “It didn’t change anything between us, not… Not entirely, but–” He pauses for breath. “I have to be honest with you. That night changed a lot for me. I’ve– I’ve liked you, Martyn, for a while. And that night made me… Feel that more.”
More silence falls between the two as Scott still refuses to meet Martyn’s gaze, staring down at his unmoving shoes ever since the two had stopped walking to talk.
Martyn lets out a shaky breath, covering his face in his hands for a moment. “Oh my god…” He sighs out.
“I’m really sorry if that… makes you uncomfortable,” Scott continues. “And I know it’s really awkward. We’re roommates–and that’s one of the reasons I worried about saying something.”
“How long have you…” Martyn trails off, but what he meant to say lingers in the air heavily.
“A few months, at least.”
“Scott.”
Scott looks up to Martyn for a moment, whose face is flushed red. His brow is creased as he grins, though the actual intent behind it is something Scott questions.
“I… I feel the same. And I have for a while. That night–I really wasn’t sure if I was pushing any boundaries, but I wanted to try and make some kind of move. I guess I didn’t need to,” Martyn explains. “God, it was so difficult not to say something. Your weird friend-flirting was driving me mad, Scott.”
Scott, despite being out of breath and in awe at Martyn’s confession, huffs out a bit of faint laughter at that last bit. “You–” He barely gets one word out, practically choking on it. “You feel the same? You like me?”
“Yes,” Martyn confirms, words heavy with honesty and passion, taking Scott’s hands in his. “I love you, Scott. I honestly do. And letting you paint me like that–being so vulnerable like that with you is something I crave.”
Scott’s head feels full of fog, and he can barely muster up his next sentence. It feels surreal to him. He squeezes Martyn’s hands in his own, “I do too. And I love you too.”
“So… What does that mean for us, then? Are we together?” Martyn questions, unsure yet clearly excited.
“Do you want to be together? We don’t have to immediately jump into dating if you don’t want to,” Scott clarifies.
“I do want to jump into dating, actually,” Martyn rejects his suggestion. “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about it.”
“Good thing I want to as well,” Scott accepts the idea quickly. The space between the two of them had slightly been shrinking ever since they’d started to speak more vulnerably about each other, though Scott is clearly the only one to take notice of that fact. “Is it alright if I kiss you?” Scott’s voice is lowered to just above a whisper, his voice only meant for Martyn’s ears.
“Please,” Martyn whispers.
And what is Scott meant to do except listen? He leans in, getting rid of the gap between them completely as their lips meet. It’s gentle, warm, and sends sparks up both their spines, and despite only being a few seconds it feels like the entire world to both of them. When they part, Scott can see Martyn’s flushed face and wide pupils. He smiles warmly.
“So? How was that?” The question isn’t needed, but Scott asks anyway just to tease the very obviously satisfied Martyn.
Instead of responding, Martyn initiates another kiss, slightly rougher in a way that makes Scott’s head just a bit fuzzy. Upon pulling away, he’s immediately pulled into a hug.
“I’m so glad this worked out,” Martyn confesses. “I was really worried I messed things up by being naked and attractive for a painting.”
“Definitely messed up my mind,” Scott replies jokingly. “Do you know how many times I’d been in the middle of something important and been forced to think about that?” Scott pulls away from the hug to stare at Martyn indignantly.
“Oh, but is that really such a bad thing?” Martyn snickers.
“No, you’re very handsome, actually.”
“See? No real harm done,” Martyn jokes, earning a huff of laughter from Scott. “You wanna go back to the dorm now?”
“Yeah, may as well, I’ve got a couple things I have to do.”
“Oh, what? Not gonna spend time with me?” Martyn teases.
“I’ll be spending plenty of time with you from now on, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Scott replies. “You’ll be sick of me pretty soon.”
“I’d never get sick of you, Scott,” Martyn protests as the two begin to walk back hand-in-hand.
There’s something refreshing in the air, something new and warm, surrounding Scott with a feeling of peace.
There’s so much to look forward to, with him and Martyn–and that’s a thought that makes him smile wider than he has in ages.
He’s really happy to be an art major.