Filled: Smudged lines (Zach/Shaun)delicataleJuly 21 2011, 09:58:08 UTC
(pointing out that I have never written Shelter fic before, but I really wanted to give this a try.)
Zach’s fingers shake a little as he runs the charcoal over the paper, the smooth glide usually enough to calm him down, focus him on the task at hand, his model becoming angles and shapes and shadows, but this time it doesn’t work. This time, when he looks up from his sketch pad, he sees Shaun, his angles and shapes and shadows, but mostly, Shaun. In a three piece suit, standing there with a secret smile on his face and his hand on his hip, under the suit jacket, over the vest, color-coordinated, impeccable looking, all the way to a tie and a fucking tie clip, and the charcoal slips from Zach’s fingers one again.
Zach had no idea - didn’t think that his words, his pose for me would turn into this. He’d expected a towel, nakedness, probably, because this is Shaun and he’s a devious bastard at the best of time, and he could have dealt with Shaun being naked and stupid. Shaun looking serious, clean-shaven, wearing a suit that was perfectly fitted like his life depends on it. Man, he’s good - there is absolutely no doubt that he’s wearing this on purpose, pushing buttons Zach didn’t even know he had - suits were not something he saw often back in San Pedro, and even less in CalArts.
Licking his lips, Zach turns back to his sketch, drawing the sharp lines of Shaun’s body, the blurriness of the charcoal not giving Shaun enough credit, and barely anything in his arsenal of felt-tip pens and crayons will do, so Zach sighs, looks at the half-drawn form on his sketch pad before throwing it on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looks at Shaun raise an eyebrow.
“C’mere.”
Shaun moves a fraction, falters; the twist of his mouth tells Zach he’s confused.
“Are you not supposed to finish that?”
“It’s just practice, not an actual assignment. C’mere.”
Shaun does, stands in front of Zach with his hands by his side and his secret smile wiped clean off his face when Zach touches him, from his knees up to the top of his thighs, the waistband of the suit pants. He just wants to feel the material, smooth and fluid and moving elegantly - quality shit, Zach can’t help thinking. Shaun makes a little noise, at the back of his throat, and Zach looks up.
“Next time I ask you to pose for me, just be naked.”
For several reasons, Zach thinks as he opens Shaun’s pants, it’ll make things easier.
Re: Filled: Smudged lines (Zach/Shaun)tjs_whatnotJuly 21 2011, 15:14:42 UTC
Haha, I know EXACTLY how you feel! I posted something in here at like 3 in the morning and am TERRIFIED to go and look at it again. :((
If it makes you feel better, I didn't think there was anything glaringly wrong. Nothing that pulled me out of the story, and that's all that matters. :))
Re: Filled: Smudged lines (Zach/Shaun)tailoredshirtJuly 21 2011, 15:00:24 UTC
Hee, Shaun is so devious! I love the blurriness of the charcoal not giving Shaun enough credit. And this: “Next time I ask you to pose for me, just be naked.”
Zach’s fingers shake a little as he runs the charcoal over the paper, the smooth glide usually enough to calm him down, focus him on the task at hand, his model becoming angles and shapes and shadows, but this time it doesn’t work. This time, when he looks up from his sketch pad, he sees Shaun, his angles and shapes and shadows, but mostly, Shaun. In a three piece suit, standing there with a secret smile on his face and his hand on his hip, under the suit jacket, over the vest, color-coordinated, impeccable looking, all the way to a tie and a fucking tie clip, and the charcoal slips from Zach’s fingers one again.
Zach had no idea - didn’t think that his words, his pose for me would turn into this. He’d expected a towel, nakedness, probably, because this is Shaun and he’s a devious bastard at the best of time, and he could have dealt with Shaun being naked and stupid. Shaun looking serious, clean-shaven, wearing a suit that was perfectly fitted like his life depends on it. Man, he’s good - there is absolutely no doubt that he’s wearing this on purpose, pushing buttons Zach didn’t even know he had - suits were not something he saw often back in San Pedro, and even less in CalArts.
Licking his lips, Zach turns back to his sketch, drawing the sharp lines of Shaun’s body, the blurriness of the charcoal not giving Shaun enough credit, and barely anything in his arsenal of felt-tip pens and crayons will do, so Zach sighs, looks at the half-drawn form on his sketch pad before throwing it on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looks at Shaun raise an eyebrow.
“C’mere.”
Shaun moves a fraction, falters; the twist of his mouth tells Zach he’s confused.
“Are you not supposed to finish that?”
“It’s just practice, not an actual assignment. C’mere.”
Shaun does, stands in front of Zach with his hands by his side and his secret smile wiped clean off his face when Zach touches him, from his knees up to the top of his thighs, the waistband of the suit pants. He just wants to feel the material, smooth and fluid and moving elegantly - quality shit, Zach can’t help thinking. Shaun makes a little noise, at the back of his throat, and Zach looks up.
“Next time I ask you to pose for me, just be naked.”
For several reasons, Zach thinks as he opens Shaun’s pants, it’ll make things easier.
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GUH! I knew you would NAIL it when I read this his model becoming angles and shapes and shadows, but this time it doesn’t work.
YES! What the artist sees at odds with what they artist feels is just so deliciously well done here.
BRAVA!
♥
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Thank you, though - I'm so glad it worked for you, I'm way unsure of it, but it's a first shot!
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If it makes you feel better, I didn't think there was anything glaringly wrong. Nothing that pulled me out of the story, and that's all that matters. :))
*edited because yeah, typos suck. :((
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Typos, the bane of my existence! I guess the fact that I'm not a native english speaker doesn't help my insecurities!
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Except that won't be nearly as hot. :(
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I hate all the typos I've made :(. I posed it too quickly not to lose my nerve!
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