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Nicky feels suitably covered like this, if only that it gives him a chance to tease a little. Given that Joe looks somewhat flustered when he arrives back, it gives Nicky a thrill that makes him feel very powerful. He arranges his arm over the back of the sofa, draping it over as he stretches one leg out, the other knee bent.

It allows the robe to ride up, revealing all of his thigh and a hint of more. It gives Nicky the ability to casually rest his chin on his shoulder as he peers at Joe, noticing that he seems to have rebounded just fine. He is looking straight at him, though, his gaze intense and unflinching.

"Maybe you should start," he suggests. "Who was the last person to wear this little robe, Joe? Before me?"

Joe is professional enough about this that he can set his desire aside and look at the shapes, colors, lights and shadows that make Nicky up, focusing on drawing him.

He's not, however, professional enough to stop himself from staring at Nicky's bare thigh as the robe rides up and up and up. He promptly looks down at his notebook when Nicky meets his eyes, setting down a few lines, the general shape of Nicky's body. This is going to be difficult, he can already tell, for more reasons than one.

"A professional model I hired a few months ago," Joe answers, glancing back to Nicky but not meeting his gaze, sketching slowly. "He used to be a bodybuilder. Interesting to draw." He smiles. "He didn't keep the robe on for very long, though. It was too small and he felt silly."

Edited 2021-01-02 00:15 (UTC)

Nicky is going to try and take this seriously, try and not move, but it's like asking him not to think about a pink elephant. He's going to think about it, and probably dancing in the corner of the room. He keeps his gaze fixated on Joe, as if the beautiful line of his jaw will distract him from the fact that he is naked.

And that he's sharing this robe with a bodybuilder. "Did you pay him in olives too? Or was he not Italian and wouldn't appreciate them?"

He shifts his hand to his thigh, and it's not moving, not really, but he's absently stroking his skin in light brushes, just to give him something to focus on that isn't the overall position.

Good, because Joe is trying very hard to take this seriously too. There is something at stake here, and he does need his art to impress. He can't let himself be distracted by how pale and kissable the inside of Nicky's thigh looks.

He chuckles, shading in the many folds of the robe, making it dark enough to contrast with Nicky's skin. "No, I paid him with money, as we'd agreed. I did pour him a drink, though." He did not make the man dinner. That's just for Nicky.

He can see Nicky's fingers brush against his own thigh from the corners of his eyes and hurriedly finds something else to focus on. That's how he ends up drawing the curve of Nicky's lips, the line of his jaw, the mole on his cheek. That's almost worse, actually.

Nicky doesn't notice Joe's attentions growing any more intense, because he's busy trying not to think about handsome bodybuilders who had a drink with Joe while wearing this robe (or nothing at all). Well, at least the jealousy is keeping him from getting an inappropriate hard-on.

"You know, there's only one problem with this position," he muses, on the heels of that.

There might be more problems, but only the one he plans to talk about. "Those lovely olives and my good wine are so far. You may have to feed me."

Nothing happened with the bodybuilder, really. Joe wouldn't try to seduce someone he was paying to model, that would not have been appropriate of him.

He's shading Nicky's hair carefully when he speaks up again, making Joe look at him. "Are you getting sore already?" he teases, gently, his eyes widening when Nicky requests to be fed olives.

Joe takes a slow, deep breath. Okay, then. If that's how it's going to be, he can play that game.

"I can do that," he answers, his voice low. "I'd like to draw your eyes up close. Can I come nearer?" That much is not a lie: Nicky's eyes are fascinating and Joe feels like he's too far to do them justice.

"Of course," Nicky says, because in his mind, nearer is better. Nearer means that he doesn't have to worry about Joe looking too long at his thigh and ass, thinking about how much of Nicky is on display (and how little is under the robe).

Close also means he gets the olives, which he genuinely does want. After all, Joe went to all that trouble to buy them for him, and they really are delicious. "In exchange for olives, you can draw my eyes," he permits, and then opens his mouth slightly to encourage Joe to feed him.

Closer also means that Joe will be looking deep into Nicky's eyes, close enough that he could touch all that skin on display if he wanted. Which he does. Want.

He pulls his chair forward and sits right next to Nicky, turning a page in his drawing notebook so he can start fresh. "A fair deal," he comments, picking up an olive and gently placing it between Nicky's parted lips. He holds Nicky's eyes as he does it, partly as a challenge, partly because he is thinking about how to best draw them.

And if his fingers linger for just a second too long on Nicky's bottom lip, well. He's only human. "Tell me about the other artists," Joe asks, a little desperately, as he starts sketching again.

Nicky opens his mouth a little wider for the olive, and when Joe's fingers are near, he flicks his tongue out just a little, brushing against the thumb and the fingers that are lingering. It's Joe's fault for not pulling them away quicker, something that he's feeling very smug about.

"Well," he begins, "the one I have been reviewing now is a photographer who does angry black and white scenes of destruction. If you thought that I lambasted you for being too one note, you should see my review of him," he snorts. "He is very angry when he replies to my reviews, but not with your eloquence," he rambles. "It is profanity and anger, and only that."

There is a very obvious shiver that goes through Joe as he feels Nicky's tongue against the pads of his fingers but he says nothing, picking up his pencil again. He wants, still. Wants to push his thumb inside Nicky's mouth and feel the heat of his tongue, wants to take it out and put his lips against Nicky's instead.

He won't do any of it but his desire shows in the way his eyes are growing darker when they meet Nicky's again. He keeps sketching, tilting his head to the side, listening. "I'll make sure to read that review then, it'll make me feel better about the one you gave me," he comments, his voice low but amused. He shrugs, his eyes flickering between Nicky's face and his sketching pad, starting on a new set of eyes when he finds the ones he finished lacking. "And the woman?"

Nicky's eyes are half-lidded, as he hasn't done much blinking. He doesn't want to miss any moments, especially not with Joe so close to him. He smells incredible, just like his home smells amazing with the food he's prepared for Nicky.

Add in the excellent olives, the warmth of him so close, and Nicky is reminding himself that he doesn't put out on first dates. "Ah," he says, pulled from his distraction by Joe's words. "She is seemingly kind. Calm enough. Only, after I pointed out that her work lacked soul and emotion, I found out she tried to rip my reputation to shreds from mutual friends."

He's staring at Joe's lips as he speaks, wondering what it would be like to feed him some of the olives.

Joe will be struggling to capture that half-lidded look, to sketch the way Nicky's eyes are full of heat and longing. It's tricky, but he thinks he's doing a good job of it.

"Well, that's just shitty," he comments, drawing the line of Nicky's lovely Roman nose. "If you want to take someone down, do it to their faces, not in their backs." He finds himself sketching the curve of Nicky's lips again.

"Do you get into a lot of trouble because of your reviews?" he inquires, curiously. He can tell Nicky is staring at this mouth and he flicks his tongue to wet his upper lip, just to see what will happen.

Nicky breathes in deeply to get himself a little more control, because Joe is still so close, and he keeps staring at him. Worse, now he's licking his lip, wetting it. Nicky's breathing catches as he stares at it, the wetness, and wonders what it would be like to kiss this man.

First date, he reminds himself, this is the first date.

"I'm honest and blunt and sometimes people see that as being cruel," he points out. "You certainly reacted." Over-reacted is what he would say a few weeks ago, but he likes Joe now, so he's not going to say that.

It's nice to know that Nicky is just as affected by this as Joe himself is. It doesn't help tame down the simmering heat in the pit of his stomach, but it's nice nonetheless.

"I think what you have to understand is that art is very intimate, very personal," Joe answers, earnest but careful too, because he doesn't want an argument with Nicky either. "It feels like an extension of yourself, one you put so much thought and work into. To see someone criticize that, even mildly, can be painful." He smiles. "Even when they are obviously mistaken."

He sets his pencil down and considers his sketch -Nicky's face, eyes full of heat and longing- before turning it around so Nicky can see it. "Here."

The only reason that Nicky is holding himself together is by thinking about cold shower things, ones that put a little ice in his spine, so he doesn't get an inappropriate reaction when he's only wearing a little slip of a robe.

He doesn't think that would bode well. Or, well, it would bode very well, but it would go against Nicky's principles.

"When you put it out into the world like that, it's there to be reviewed, though," he counters, even if it's a touch gentler. "Films, novels, art, it is passionate and represents you, but it is still something that people want to know what is worth seeing, what is better. I think yours is at the top of the pile, though."

He leans forward to see the sketch, arching a brow to see his lust staring back at him. "It's very accurate," he confirms.

Joe is holding himself back out of respect, mostly. He knows Nicky is interested -it's pretty obvious at this point- but it's also their first date and Nicky has agreed to make himself vulnerable to Joe as he sketches him, and Joe really doesn't want to take advantage of that.

"True," Joe sighs, though he's still smiling. "It doesn't mean the review doesn't sting." His eyes soften at the compliment and he reaches out to squeeze Nicky's arm gently. "I appreciate that."

He chuckles when Nicky assesses his drawing as accurate and turns a new page. "Will you show me your hands? I'd like to draw them too." Nicky has lovely hands, he's noticed, very large for someone who doesn't do manual labor.

"It stings, but then I bet that you want to do better," Nicky points out, leaning forward a little. It puts him in Joe's space, almost like he might steal a kiss, but he doesn't. He backs away, just before he can share more than a breath with Joe, sitting up on the couch with one hand on his knee, keeping the robe covering his private parts, the other perched on his thigh, hand over his mouth.

If Joe wants to sketch his hands, then he can do that all he likes. "Look at us now," he admits, behind his fingers, tapping his index finger a few times on his upper lip. "Would you have asked me to come here and sketch me if I hadn't pushed you?"

Holding Nicky's eyes even as he leans in tantalizingly close, Joe gives a small nod. He does want to do better so Nicky will have less to criticize next time. He breathes in and Nicky smells good; Joe can almost feel the heat coming from him before he withdraws.

"No," he admits, slowly. "I wouldn't have replied, if your review had been nicer. Or just to thank you, it wouldn't have started a conversation." He smiles, watching Nicky's hands, his mouth. To be fair, he can draw Nicky's hands like this. It's just that the position keeps bringing his eyes back to Nicky's lips, and Joe really doesn't need that distraction right now.

"You wouldn't be here on my couch," he adds, as he sketches the strong lines of Nicky's fingers, "making it hard for me not to kiss you."

Nicky shifts his thumb over his chin as he listens thoughtfully, paying attention to Joe's movements and the way he's sketching so carefully and beautifully. He really does have the most incredible hands, Nicky thinks, staring down at them.

He could reach out and take them into his, he could stroke his fingers over his knuckles. Joe just admitted he wants to kiss him, and Nicky does too, so badly, but it's still their first date, dinner is still waiting, and Nicky wants to take this slow.

Besides, there is a review for Joe's work sitting and waiting to be published and he wants that out there before he does anything. "Now imagine if I hadn't worn the robe," he quips. "Where would my hands have gone then, hmm?"

Another review of Joe's work? Well, that will be interesting. Joe looks forward to more harsh words and open praise, and to the bickering that will surely follow.

He glances up when Nicky doesn't reply and the look on Nicky's face is thoughtful, and perhaps a little playful too. He's not telling Joe he can kiss him, but he's not telling him he can't, either. Joe can live with that, for now.

"Nicolo," Joe groans, setting the pencil down so he can rub at his face. "Have mercy. I'm trying to focus, here." He can't very well do that if he's picturing Nicky's hands stroking over his naked body.

Nicky isn't so sure that he's not the one being tortured by Joe's beautiful hands, especially when they scrub over his face, drawing his attention to that area so he can look at it and marvel at how very handsome this man is.

"This is being kind," he replies, even as he pitches his voice a touch lower, out of his own frustration. "You have me sitting in your robe, asking me to pose with my hands. Do you know how hard it is not to imagine them on you? Undressing you in this robe? At your back, and touching you?"

He's showing all his cards, but he's fairly sure it was clear what Nicky was up for the moment he accepted this invitation.

"Is it?" Joe challenges when Nicky tells him this is him being kind, watching him through his fingers. He slowly lowers his hands, his eyes dark and intent. He wants to tell Nicky that no-one is stopping him from doing what he's imagining, that Joe would be quite happy to let him, but something stops him.

He smiles instead, warm but gentle too, leaning back so the temptation to just move and kiss Nicky isn't so great. "On a first date, Nicolo?" he chides, playfully. He's not judging, he's slept with many guys the first time he met them, but he thinks perhaps it isn't what this is.

Nicky feels like it will be a miracle if they get through dinner without at least copping a feel. He shakes his head ruefully, though, when Joe gets right to the point of why he isn't making a move. "That's why I'm not pinning you to the couch and why I'm not naked," he counters, because it is a first date, and they haven't even made it to dinner yet.

He has some control. Some, that is.

"Please tell me you're going to be done sketching me soon so I can put my clothes back on. Dinner really did smell delicious," he admits.

Joe hopes he will get to kiss Nicky at some point, at least. It would be better to do it later on though, because he doesn't trust himself to have the restraint not to turn a kiss into something more at the moment.

He nods in understanding, grinning a little. "Yes. And that's also why I'm not putting charcoal smudges all over your naked skin. I'm glad we're in agreement."

He hums, picking up his pencil again. "Give me five more minutes. You don't need to talk. Close your eyes if you like, relax into it. Then we'll have dinner."

Nicky would like to have those charcoal smudges one day. Maybe more than that, he'd like to have charcoal fingerprints as proof that Joe touched him in such an amazing way. His eyes glaze over and he's glad Joe's given him permission, because he needs to disconnect, if only a little.

Breathing out to steady himself, he shifts to sit sideways again, legs stretched out. He fixes the robe and then lets his fingers dangle over the edge of his thigh. While he does that, he leans his head on the couch and closes his eyes, thinking about his grandparents and his parents in romantic situations, to try and calm himself down.

"At least with dinner, I'll be dressed." He'll have more wine in his system by then, though, so there will be different dangers.