Part of Remy was almost convinced the other was going to say yes to this little proposal with the way that the others expression of…well, it was hard to really define. Remy simply gave that warm flirty smile of his though, making no attempt to create any distance between them. He was soaking it all in, regardless of its undefinable nature. The way those beautiful hazel eyes followed his hand, the way those pretty lips parted in unspoken words, that beautiful flush running over his face. Remy personally knew the way Sebastian talked about Blaine, the way he would talk about him with such affection and possession but Remy wasn’t scared to cross that line, after all, how could he let something as precious and breath-taking as Blaine slip through his fingers and go unappreciated? Remy chuckled at that question as he ran his tongue along his lower lip. “ Like, on a graph or…?” He was clearly joking before he gave a little nod. “You can start shirtless. You can go as far or as little as you’re comfortable with Blaine.” He said with his eyes locked to the others, his messy pink hair falling down the shoulder .”I just want to paint something beautiful. And that’s you, regardless of the state of dress.” His words danced over flirty as he sucked on the inside of his cheek to hide a smile. “I should really make that graph though. Give it a step definition of Remy art. Shirtless. Naked. Mid-orgasm.” He remarked lightly as he gave another shrug.
“This is really up to you B. Whatever you want.”
Speechless, Blaine felt frozen in place as Remy continued to look into his eyes making it impossible to look away. God. Impossible to blink if he were being perfectly honest. The point in Blaine’s throat bobbed hard as he strained to swallow. It’d been forever since someone stole the words off his tongue completely. Even with Sebastian and the amount of taunting his best friend could dish out, Blaine prided himself on being able to keep up with the conversation with a near expert precision honed through years of banter between the two. He rarely choked up now (only sometimes, but Sebastian was a difficult person to race with and winning any round of wits was something to feel proud of) and, sometimes, even goaded him on. But this one? Remy? Remy came at him without a warning label. Nothing could have prepared him for standing here trying his best to wish away the blush that made his cheeks tingle or the stammering he did every time he tried to find a word he couldn’t catch. “Like..a graph. Sure. That–That’d be the easiest way to keep up. Or know where you’re headed.” Any amount of groundwork he got towards steadying himself was stolen when Remy called him beautiful. The word made a pang of ache slash through his stomach. It’d been a long time since someone used beautiful to describe him. Super hot, sexy, cute. One day around Sebastian and all three would be used within a few hours. Beautiful, though? Hearing it made him feel dizzy from a level of happiness that was completely silly to think about.
“Wait. You paint people mid–.. Nevermind,” clearing his throat the former Warbler stepped back and fiddled with the hem of his grey and black wool sweater. “This can go. For now.. Okay?”
“Gotta love the american schooling system. It’s honestly beyond me why our parents wanted Sebastian to go to Dalton. That alone was three times the price.rather than Paris.” Remy remarked slightly with a little teasing smile on his face. “Pretty much, you pay them a lot and they tell you about…people who don’t inspire you. Or how something should be done according to a text book. It’s not exactly the ideal way, now is it? Even more so when it comes to art.” Remy said with a little shrug again as he dropped back against the table. Remy watched that pillow tumble to the ground as he stepped forward, a smirk dancing along his lips as the other seemed to flush and stammer at the very idea of what he was proposing. “Oh trust me…” Remy hummed as he openly ran his eyes up and down the other. “You can inspire quite a lot of things…” How was it Remy managed to make that sound so dirty? Remy’s hand even reached out to brush though those wet locks as the other pointed them out, letting them drop though his fingers as his hand moved away. “I think it’ll be…wild and raw. Very…open. Both raw in a sexual sense and in a open, personality sense if you lose that shirt.’ H e teased with a little wink as his hand cupped Blaine’s neck. “You can seriously say no. If you’re that uncomfortable. I paint boys naked all the time…it’s sort of a hobby. I’ll be totally professional. Pinky promise.”
Not the ideal way. But–as much as any theater performer or artist will tell you that they have no idea what they’re teaching you in an arts school? They’ll promptly tell you how important it is to finish. Except a few handfuls that got lucky along the way. Blaine figured he was stuck listening to them if he wanted to BE SOMEONE. And he did. All that was on the tip of his tongue. A means of changing the subject back to school should Remy give him an out or realize how mistaken he was in thinking he–of all people–was model material. Didn’t seem like any of that would be necessary. Not with the way Remy was looking at him. Blaine felt his stomach grow warm and fill with butterfly wings to beat at the insides. Dangerous. When did a crash and a nap at Sebastian’s suddenly become dangerous? Oh. When his brother made an appearance. That’s when. Hazel eyes read back and forth over Remy’s expression as the pink haired artist stepped towards him. Blaine was holding his breath as fingers stroked through his hair–an upward turn of his gaze let him focus on Remy’s wrist. But this entire idea was intriguing in the ways it shouldn’t be. Especially if Sebastian found out. Remy’s twin’s attraction and somewhat possessive nature towards him and their friendship wasn’t unknown to anyone who knew Sebastian Smythe. But he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to have someone look at him the exact way that Remy was looking at him now. Let alone? Put it on canvas. “Well… Is there some sort of never been painted naked before curve? Like..I don’t know? Start shirtless? I mean..I don’t want to say no. It’s just–I have no idea what it is,” he scoffed at himself, “strange because I never thought–um. Wow. Words just got really hard.”
Remy stilled at that whispered words as his head turned back to stare over at the boy as he left. A little smile on his face as he ducked his head. A compliment like that was the way to Remy’s heart. and it was’nt quite the compliment he’d been expecting from the other. Remy brushed any thoughts of how Blaine would look under the spray of his shower, those broad shoulders or his perfect ass and instead tried to focused on his art, leaning over the counter as he dipped his brush into the paint and started to draw it along the canvas. The pink haired boy dropped the brush to fix his long hair as the other walked out of the shower, his eyebrow arched as he noticed those old sweatpants. He’d seen his brother wear them enough times to know what they were but he did’nt say anything about them. He was silent as he watched Blaine admiring his art, his own eyes soaking in the others strong features and the way he looked with wet hair. “A better grade? Now I know you’re flattering me. Besides, art can’t be graded. That’s just some school bullshit. Art is…something that makes you feel.” He said lightly as he tapped the end of the paint brush against the canvas. “You’re not bothering me…” He said lightly as he pressed his lips together. “In fact…how about you model for me? You can lay on the couch…And I’ll draw you?” He said as he rounded the table. “You can even take off your shirt for me.” He teased as a hand reached out to pluck at the others shirt. “You can inspire some art.”
“Unfortunately? That school bullcrap is something I still have to go through the ringer for while paying a hefty price to be thoroughly wrung,” Blaine laughed and hoisted his shoulders in a shrug. “Crappy how that works out, huh? You pay them big bucks to make you wonder what the heck you’re doing with your life and how much of a stamina you can have against torture.” He was a performer and a musician and a writer. A painter? Not so much. Looking down at what he held in his arms–Blaine gave it another squeeze and glanced back up with a relieved smile when Remy let him know he wasn’t annoying him. The pillow was getting warmer against his chest and the threadbare shirt that he loved even though it hung a little loose on his frame was comforting and perfect. One of the reasons why being here always felt so good. Remy being here was new though. Maybe the familiarity of the face watching him made this feel easier. Or Remy was naturally easy to be near. Either way? He liked the company. Blaine double blinked and his lips parted like he was about to ask if Remy was serious. Model for him? Stunned–the pillow hit the floor and he didn’t bend to pick it up as the pink haired painter came closer. He was fresh out of a shower, not anywhere near put together and Remy wanted him to pose? “I..,” he flushed a few shades of pink. Make that pose topless–okay then. “I’m not sure what kind of art I can inspire wearing your brother’s old lounge pants and shower hair–,” he felt his stomach swirl with the pluck to his shirt. Was it weird that it didn’t feel bad? Quite..the opposite. “I don’t know. You might just end up wishing you stuck to painting once this–,” his eyes darted up to indicate his hair, “starts becoming a tangled, curly mess?”
There was that new blush as Remy soaked in the sight of that perfect rear and frankly, that new blush only made Blaine that more desirable. Sebastian was right, there was something holy attractive about that prim and proper look that Remy could already feel himself wanting to have a “taste” of. His eyes met Blaine’s and Remy’s smirk didn’t falter as the other stuttered and seemed to have a little trouble wrapping his head around the words he’d just said. Which- to be fair to Remy, he’d totally warned Blaine about. “And knowing Sebastian as well as I do, he’s utterly aware and already proud of himself for blowing your mind even while he’s not here. No doubt he just got a burst of self-confidence with no real understanding of why.” Remy quipped lightly. Two bright eyes followed the other as Blaine walked a few steps before walking back the way he went. Remy even held up his hands in “Hey, what did I do” look as the other shot him that scathing look. The pink haired artist did, however, lean forward to watch the boys perky ass walk away with a tilt of his head. “God I would eat that thing out for hours.” Remy muttered before pushing off the chair and wandering himself back towards the main loft to find his art work.
“If hope you don’t mind me saying but you’re really good,” Blaine’s voice quietly filled the room in a soft, polite whisper. Twenty minutes or more had passed before sight nor sound of him could be seen or heard other than a faint rustling around in the bathroom and water going through the pipes. Now, he was standing there with a pillow shoved against his side and a blanket draped over his arm. Wet curls hung down near one eye, almost touching his lashes. Thankfully, they were long enough not to point straight to the heavens anymore. Well. When the gel wasn’t holding them back. Bare feet jutting out from a pair of Sebastian’s old Dalton sweatpants–because they were one of the only things that relatively fit him and Sebastian never cared when he borrowed them or the matching t-shirt he was wearing because he’d long outgrown them but for some reason Blaine was sure of and would never mention always kept them around. An appreciative gaze moved back and forth over Remy’s work and he squeezed the pillow tighter to his chest subconsciously as he looked the artwork over repeatedly. “I’m regretting I had to cancel our meeting for you to teach me now. I probably would have gotten a better grade. Friendship drama. The root of all things distracting,” he hummed and gave Remy an apologetic smile. “Anyway, I hope I’m not bugging you.” Blaine jutted a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the living room. “I can let you get back to work if you want?”
It’s an interesting sight to watch the other blush up like nothing else. There’s a simple easy shrug at the others words. “I think I have a vague idea of where it came from.” Sebastian had been right after all. Blaine was utterly, drop dead gorgeous. His lips, his dark hair, and if half the things Sebastian had said about the boys ass were true then he was no doubt worthy of such a nickname. You could almost see the shiver that ran though Blaine at the name, like some Pavlovian response to it. Remy dropped his paint smeared rag onto the table between them before finally strolling over towards the boy. “My brother does have a flair for being a little dramatic with his words. And I love him, really, but it’s a true enough statement. Though in this case…” Remy chuckled, his pink braided hair falling to one side. but he held his hands up as the other pressed for more details. “Fine. Fine. Fine. I tried to warn you off but if you insist….” There’s a little trail off as Remy’s mind clearly started to pick at what he wanted to tell Blaine about. “At one point he told me that if the gods created a perfect ass. It would belong to Blaine Anderson.” He pointed out as he took a chance to lean around the boy to clearly drop his eyes to the others ass. “I think he sort of has a point there.” He mused, staring for a few moments longer before walking back to drop down on one of the chairs at the table. “There was a few other elaborate things about licking whipped cream off certain parts of you. Oh. And your face covered in-..” There’s a little wiggled his eyebrows. Remy clearly had no shame just as much as Sebastian did. “And I think he also said something about you being his dream conquest?”
Blaine watched in wonderment–hazel eyes drawn to one thing in particular–as Remy drew nearer. He was unable to mask his fascination with the pink braid that was such a stark contrast to the polished and perfect natural hair his twin brother meticulously sported ever since they’d first met. The look was so not anywhere close to Sebastian’s style that it was as strange as it was familiar thanks the face he was glancing towards when he wasn’t watching his hair. The passive way he spoke in that voice in such a melodic tone made Blaine bite into his bottom lip and wonder if he’d just asked a question he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to seeing as how it was being hinted at that what Blaine suspected verses what he was about to hear? Might be even more blown out of proportion than he expected in a way that was all Sebastian Smythe and–that was a wholly uniquely extreme version of the phrase. Of course, it started with a statement about his ass. They were close now. Enough Blaine could smell paint–his breath hitched and he stood perfectly still as the other–you’ve got to be kidding–leaned to blatantly look at his rear. Heat exploded over his skin again in a whole new blaze, wide eyes stared at the floor in disbelief that shouldn’t even be disbelief considering. His lungs only began working once Remy sauntered off. Blaine tilted his chin to meet Remy’s stare–growing redder with each word–until his mouth hung open and he stuttered. “I–uh–okay..” He managed some half-laugh that was more breathless than not and rolled his eyes trying to chuckle the last part off but fell a dollar short. “And that’s why your brother is the epitome of ‘I can’t believe you just said that’. I–um–probably never should have asked. Yet again. Sebastian manages to blow my mind and he isn’t even in the room.” Another weak chortle and shake of his head occurred before Blaine turned to grab the blankets out of a linen closet and realized he was walking in the opposite direction. After shooting Remy a ‘don’t you dare laugh’ stare–he quickly went to grab them and a pillow he always used trying to catch his breath for real on the way.
pianokeysandbowties 