Work Text:
Billy stuffed his phone back in his jeans’ pocket. He stuck his head out of line, peering around the throng of college students ahead of him at the register. The stagnant air of the on-campus cafe was thick with the smell of coffee and processed sandwiches. His foot tapped the tile floors anxiously.
“Somewhere to be?” a guy behind asked, a trace of humor in his voice. Billy turned around and pinned the question to a boy a head-and-a-half above him. He was attractive, with a strong jaw and broad shoulders that led to powerful arms. His hair was blond and neatly in place, not falling in his eyes or touching the ears wrapped in metal cuffs.
Billy felt a nervous skip in his chest, looking at him. “Yeah, I have to get to class fifteen minutes early. Promised my instructor I’d help her set up some things for my art class for a month.” Billy wiggled his fingers. “Extra credit.”
“Headed to an art class myself. I’m not expected early, though. So, my sympathies.” The guy smiled and it made the silver studs in his dimples stand out. “I did, however, swear on my life to bring the professor a large double-espresso.”
Billy raised his eyebrows. “On your life?”
The guy nodded gravely. “I wouldn’t dare take lightly a threat from an art teacher suffering from caffeine withdrawals. Creative anger isn’t something I want to be on the receiving end of,” he joked. “She says she’s been up since five in the morning without coffee.”
Billy made a hiss of pain. “Ouch. I understand why the warp-drive order then.”
The guy shook his head sadly. “I couldn’t handle a double-espresso. I think my tiny hamster heart would explode.” He clutched his chest emphatically.
“I’ve had a couple cups of double-espresso,” admitted Billy.
“And you lived to tell the tale?”
Billy shrugged. “I’ve spent the last few years building up an immunity to instant coffee powder.”
The guy cocked his head curiously. “Is that what iocane is?”
A grin stretched across Billy’s face. That was subtle. Billy held out his hand for him to shake. “Dread Pirate Billy, at your service.” Let’s pretend that wasn’t the lamest thing I’ve ever said. “You?”
“Vizzini, apparently.” He laughed slightly, flashing gorgeous teeth. “Actually, no, it’s Teddy.” Had Teddy worn braces? Billy’s braces hadn’t given him that good a smile. He suddenly felt ripped off by his dentist.
“So, Teddy.” Billy shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked gently on the balls of his feet, giddy. “You like The Princess Bride?”
“What little boy doesn’t have a crush on Wesley?” Teddy said. Was Billy supposed to read into that admission, take it as a green light?
The doors swung open and a girl with rainbow streaks in her hair came in. She lingered by one of the fliers on the wall. Billy could just make out that it was the schedule for the Pride club. “He made farm boys cool,” he agreed, attention returning to Teddy.
“Especially pirate farm boys,” pointed out Teddy. The line in front of them had dwindled to one person.
“Farm Pirates: Terror on the Plowed Seeds,” Billy quipped.
“Agriculture’s greatest menace,” Teddy replied, laughing. His smile felt warm enough to melt Billy on the spot.
“I should’ve gone into agriculture piracy,” Billy grieved, shaking his head in remorse.
“Yeah? What had a better job outlook?”
“Amazingly enough, art did,” Billy answered, mouth pinching. He knew it was a stupid decision from the start, though. “Every other field I thought of just felt like it’d be a mistake, if I chose it.”
“Then art has got to be the right path,” Teddy said simplistically. Strangely, Billy believed him.
Billy smiled wryly. “I’ll find out, I guess.” He opened his mouth to ask what Teddy was studying when the girl at the register beckoned him forward. He shuffled to the counter and rushed through his order, the time limit he had forgotten suddenly on the forefront of his mind again. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes. He could make it.
He got out of line so Teddy could give his order. By the time Teddy finished, Billy’s coffee was in his hands and he was running to the cafe doors.
“Nice meeting you!” Teddy called out. Billy skidded to a halt in the hallway, spun around, and waved. It took until he rounded a corner to realize how goofy and stupid he must’ve looked.
“Little more this way,” Ms. Maximoff directed, holding one side of a table as Billy held the opposite. She walked backwards as they lifted together. “That’s good,” she decided, setting it down. She wiped imaginary dust off her palms and patted down her flowing maxi skirt. They surveyed their work. The lab tables formed a rectangle. In the center was a folding chair, with a small break in the arrangement to allow the model to enter.
Billy weaved his fingers through his hair. “When’s the model coming?”
“That is a fantastic question, Billy. One, unfortunately, I do not have an answer for.” Ms. Maximoff puckered her lips and retrieved her cellphone from the pocket of her paint-stained apron. “He’s in the bathroom, his text says.” She slipped the phone back in her apron. “Nerves. They get to the best of us!” She removed an elastic from her wrist and twisted it around the big mess of her hair, condensing the dark curls in a sloppy, drooping bun.
Billy trailed over to where he usually sat, reclaiming his coffee. “How much is this model getting paid?” he asked. How much was worth standing butt-naked in a crowd of judgmental mostly twenty-somethings for an hour and a half? He glanced at the chair. Maybe provided seating dropped the price a bit.
“Nineteen dollars and change, hourly.” Ms. Maximoff dropped into her office chair, throwing an arm over her eyes as she leaned back. “But this project will last three days and I have two classes, so this is costing me a pretty penny. God, my headache is positively roaring!”
Billy half-smiled, sympathetic. “Want a sip of my coffee?” he offered, rattling his styrofoam cup.
“No, thank you. I will have my own soon, worry not.”
Billy raised his coffee in a toast. “Worrying not,” he promised, taking a swig. The hot liquid poured down his throat and bloomed in his chest like a blanket.
Cassie arrived at the door then, blonde hair tucked into a low-hanging ponytail. She was wearing a university sweater too puffy for the lukewarm weather outside. She knocked on the wall, smiling as she looked around the room. She frowned when she found nothing. “Where’s the model?”
“Late,” reported Ms. Maximoff beneath her arm.
“Darn. I was hoping to talk to them before class officially started.” Cassie dumped her bags onto the floor and hefted her sketchbook atop the table. Billy scooted to give her some space.
“Why?” Billy said, perplexed.
“Because it’s interesting! Think about it! This person gets paid to stand naked.”
Billy rested his chin in his hands. “I think they might be sitting naked actually,” he corrected, pointing at the center-chair.
Cassie sighed, a far-away look in her eyes. “Oh man, that’s the dream.”
“I am glad you think so, Cassie,” Ms. Maximoff piped up. “There was a time when my husband modeled naked, you know. Well, naked save for this cutest cape.”
Billy sipped his coffee. “Capes are awesome,” he mumbled.
“Really?” said Cassie, intrigued.
Ms. Maximoff sat up straight at her desk. “Oh, yes. It was for our one-year anniversary. I wanted to make a calendar for each of the months we were married. I can now say I’ve dabbled in photography,” she teased.
“That’s so romantic!” Cassie gushed.
Kate strode through the door. “What is?” Her purple heels clacked against the hard flooring as she quickly made her way to Cassie. She slung her purse over the back of the seat and pushed her chunky sunglasses to the top of her head.
“Nudity,” retorted Billy.
“Nothing sets the mood quite like a startling lack of pants,” Kate contributed, settling into the chair.
Eli trudged through the door, a worn messenger bag sagging on his shoulder like a weeping willow tree. “Are we drawing a man or a woman?” he immediately inquired.
“Man,” said Ms. Maximoff.
“Fuck.”
“Language!” Ms. Maximoff reprimanded.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Eli apologized. He took the seat with Kate.
“Got a problem with rippling pectorals, Bradley?” Kate taunted, smirking.
“More like a problem with intently staring at another man’s junk for long periods of time.” He made grabby hands at Billy’s coffee.
“Totally violates the bro code,” Billy concurred, sliding his drink down the table. Eli caught it, chugged more than Billy would’ve liked, and slid it back.
Students trickled in for the next five minutes. Several times before class even began, Ms. Maximoff was asked where the model was. Eventually, her text tone went off and she rolled her eyes at whatever she read. “He forgot to bring a robe and is hiding out in one of the bathroom stalls.”
Kate snorted, while a couple other students snickered and Cassie made an “aw” sound.
“Dock his pay,” suggested Eli.
Ms. Maximoff sighed reluctantly. “He left the bathroom and is now lost in the F wing. Guess I better go rescue the poor kid.” She stood up, massaging the bridge of her nose.
“Kid? How young is he?” Cassie chirped. “Is he hot?”
“Hot enough to not dock his pay for forgetting the only required material,” Ms. Maximoff said.
“I’m so sorry!” Teddy bursted into the room, ears red and eyes wide. He still held the large double-espresso from the cafe.
“Teddy, dear, I just got your texts. I would have found you earlier had I known you were lost,” Ms. Maximoff explained. She extended an arm toward the center of the tables. “Don’t fret over the robe, sweetheart. It’s just a formality,” she said, smiling. “Is that mine?” she asked, grin growing.
“Ah, yes.” Teddy handed her the cup.
She flicked open the lid and closed her eyes in bliss as she drank. “Mm. My hero.” She peeked at him. “Well, go ahead. Strip, darling.” She motioned to the chair. “Everyone, this is Teddy. He will be modeling for us the next couple days as we study anatomy.” Teddy made his way to the middle.
“Oh, my god,” Billy whispered. He slouched down, body folding in on itself like a rolly poly. His heart sped up as everything crawled to a slow-motion horror scene. His eyes followed Teddy to the center like a rubbernecker who just saw a car spontaneously combust on the highway.
“I know, right?” Kate whispered back, ogling Teddy’s backside.
“No, you really don’t,” said Billy.
Teddy faced their table, but his eyes were downcast as he pulled off his shirt and hung it on the chair. Billy tugged his earlobe, willing himself to keep a straight face as he harbored very gay feelings about the hard lines etched into Teddy’s torso.
Ms. Maximoff set her coffee on her desk and clapped her hands. “Today, we are starting our lesson on figure drawing. That means I want you to focus on the shape of our model’s body. Do not spend time on the details of his face, or any of his piercings. Just simple sketches.
“Every twenty minutes, I am going to ask Teddy to come up with a new pose. By the end of this class, you should have four different sketches.” Ms. Maximoff held up four fingers, each decorated with a ring. Teddy glanced at her, momentarily distracted as she went through the plan. “Teddy will be modeling for us three days. You will have plenty of sketches by the end of this week, which is good, because your job will eventually be to pick three of your sketches to redraw and put into a collage.”
She walked to her desk. Before sitting down, she said, “Oh, and don’t worry about what perspective you get, be it his front or back or side. Just draw what you see today, and if you want to change your point of view, you can do so tomorrow.”
Teddy undid the clasp on his belt and stepped out of his pants. After that, he peeled off his boxer-briefs and chucked his socks and shoes, not looking up once. He straightened his back, head tilted toward the ceiling. He had two barbell piercings on either side of his pelvis.
“Dude,” Kate murmured in awe. “He’s hung.”
Teddy stretched his arms over his head, like he had just woken up and was getting the kinks out of his back. His hip jutted out, accentuating the muscles in his arms and along his body.
Billy couldn’t draw in these conditions. “A baby arm holding an apple,” he blurted, volume hushed. Cassie choked.
Teddy’s gaze snapped to the front and, oh god, made terrifying eye contact with Billy. Teddy’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped a little, though he clamped it quickly shut. What was the proper reaction in this situation? Say hi? Wave? Smile? Look down at his paper all of class and draw only Teddy’s ankles?
Teddy heard him call it a baby arm. Billy made a strangled noise and grabbed his pencil, drawing some random lines in his sketchbook while he gathered his composure.
Cassie leaned toward Billy’s ear. “I think he heard you.”
“Don’t worry, that has definitely been noted and filed under Reasons I’m Never Leaving My House Again Ever,” Billy assured. He erased the arbitrary lines and gauged Teddy’s ankles, as that was the best solution he could think of for now.
Eventually, however, he had to sketch Teddy. He was careful not to look at his face, though that put an even larger emphasis on his genitalia, which (while impressive) was not ideal for the classroom setting. Everything and nothing was ideal about staring at Teddy’s dick right now.
The time on the clock passed at roughly the same speed as, say, a turtle. A sleeping turtle. A sleeping turtle on drugs that made it really exhausted and fatigued after a stressful day at its turtle job. Billy needed a nap and at least a week-long reprieve from dicks.
“Clean-up time!” Ms. Maximoff announced after 80 painful turtle minutes. Billy nearly collapsed in relief. Instead, he shoved his pencil and eraser into his backpack and grabbed one of the spray bottles and some sheets of paper towels. He set to work cleaning the table. From the corner of his vision, Teddy was getting dressed.
Billy fully intended on being the first out the door when someone caught his arm.
Teddy retracted his hands. “Sorry,” he said. Billy thought he looked self-conscious. “Just — are you really going to take off without so much as a goodbye? I thought pirate farm boys had better manners than that.” Teddy rubbed his neck, dimples cresting his cheeks.
“Oh, my god,” said Billy.
They shifted out of the way of outpouring art students. Teddy laughed softly. “After drawing me naked, I figured I at least owed you my phone number.”
“I think you owe a lot of people your phone number today,” Billy said honestly. He adjusted the strap of his backpack, distributing the weight better.
“Later, Billy!” Cassie waved, walking out with Kate and Eli in tow. Kate winked and told him to text her tonight. Eli’s face was suspicious.
“I guess I do,” Teddy relented. He chuckled. “But I wanted to give you my number earlier at the cafe.”
Billy squeezed his own arm and the world hitched. “Even after the baby arm comment?”
Teddy inhaled deeply, letting the breath go with a pained laugh. He nodded. “Even after that.”
“Wow,” said Billy. “That’s quite a deal.” Was his face red? He was at least ninety percent certain his skin was literally melting off his face by this point. “Ah,” he sounded, making a weird flailing movement with his hands. He dug his phone out, pulled up the keypad, and offered it to Teddy. “Put your number in.”
Teddy punched in his digits, then gave the phone back. “Text me, okay?”
Billy nodded, grinning. He told Teddy goodbye and left the classroom. On his way, he grabbed a Pride flier and whacked himself in the face with it in a moment of overwhelming surrealism.
He walked all the way to the parking lot, unlocking his car and shoveling his stuff into the passenger’s seat. Buckled in, with the engine revved, he shot Teddy a text.
