topino | (no subject)

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.

There is a rush in seeing Nicky relax and let go when Joe tells him to, and he hurries to draw that too. He pulls his chair away again so he can focus on Nicky's entire body, sketching fast and precise.

"Will you be?" Joe teases when Nicky mentions that he'll be dressed for dinner, gently. "Shame."

He completes his sketch, turning the pages to review the work he's done and make sure he has enough for a clean drawing later on. "I'm done," he announces, leaning back. "Thank you."

Nicky shakes his head and though his eyes are mostly closed, he still ends up rolling them. Of all the things Nicky might have anticipated from Joe's responding email, incorrigible flirt is not a trait that he'd been expecting.

Yet, is he upset?

Not really. He opens his eyes and lets his gaze roam over Joe's fingers, the blank page he sees, and arches a brow as he leans forward to finish his glass of wine, rewarding himself with a few more olives. "In that case, I'm going to go crush your dreams and dress."

To be fair, Joe is not always this flirtatious. Nicky brings it out in him. He grins when Nicky rolls his eyes, and gestures at his sketching pad. "I'll clean up the lines and put it all together for the final version. I'll send it to you so you can tell me what you think."

He sets the pad aside for now, standing up and stretching his back with a groan. "Very cruel of you," he teases, easily. "I'll put on a clean shirt and make sure dinner is ready."

Joe smiles and gives Nicky some privacy, heading for his bedroom first so he can swap his charcoal-stained T-shirt for a crisp white shirt, and then going back to the kitchen to stir his dish and add in the eggs. He's wearing an apron when Nicky comes back, carefully cracking eggs into his simmering vegetables.

"I see what this is," Nicky ruefully says, shaking his head. "You're going to send me a piece of art to review, but it will be of me, and then I will be every bit the narcissist as I accused you of being," he laments, but it's overwrought and somewhat playful in the way he speaks.

It's a relief to have some time to collect himself as he redresses, leaving one button undone more than before, when he returns to Joe in the kitchen. He is a sight to see, with that apron and that shirt, and Nicky is seized with a wish to wrap his arms around him and lean forward to smell the meal.

If he is meant to not tempt, then not today.

"It's smelling even better," he praises. "You're making my expectations very high for this dinner."

"Yes, and you've fallen for my evil plan," Joe teases, just as dramatically. "I will hear nothing but praise about both my choice of subject and my technique," he warns, playfully.

Joe stirs carefully, giving Nicky a grin from above his shoulder when he steps in. "I hope it'll live up to your expectations. Will you pour us more wine? We're ready to eat." He will ladle generous plates for them both.

Nicky raises a brow as he settles at the table, sure that he's not going to hear the end of it. He's not entirely sure that he wants to, either, so he stays quiet on the subject and pours more wine, accepting his fate to have to review Joe's work of his own hands and eyes and body.

He will feel like an idiot, he knows, but there will be other more complicated feelings he's sure. Maybe he should ask Joe to send a digital version, given that Nicky will not want to ruin it.

"Do you eat with all your models, or am I another first in this?"

Joe will send several versions, just the face, just the body, just the hands, all digital so Nicky can decide which parts he wants to review, and if he wants to be recognizable in the artwork or not.

He's considerate like that.

He sets a plate in front of Nicky and takes off his apron, sitting down and lifting his glass for a toast. "Only the models I like," he returns, smiling. "Not the ones I have a professional relationship with." He sips from his wine, and takes a bite from his food, humming. It's pretty good, he's happy with it.

"I haven't asked you, was it your first time modelling?" he inquires after a beat, curious.

Nicky makes a small noise of despair when the apron comes off, maybe because he'd liked seeing Joe in it, and it was doing a lot for him. Oh well. There's always the second date, seeing as Nicky has a feeling that it's not going to be very difficult to get one of those.

"Couldn't you tell?" Nicky snorts, lifting his glass to salute Joe, "I thought my awkward positions and inability to know where to sit would have given away that you're my first."

He's usually very good about making sure there's a line between artist and critic, but something about Joe has blown right past that and made it impossible to keep those two separate anymore. It's not only because he's handsome, either, but that does help.

Oh? Joe can reintroduce the apron next time, then. He's been known to cook breakfast in nothing but this apron and his underwear, and Nicky might yet get to see that.

"You were fine," Joe reassures, smiling sunnily. "Not too awkward and you stayed still enough that I could draw you, so I have no complaints." He shrugs, easy-going. "Most people tend to fidget. It's not easy staying still for so long."

He points at Nicky's plate. "Have a bite, tell me if it was worth the wait."

"I hung the robe up on the back of your door," he adds, realizing he hadn't told Joe where he'd put it, speaking of awkward and positions and sketching. "And I did fidget," he points out, seeing as he feels like he kept tapping and rubbing and stroking and moving his fingers at his thigh.

Maybe it had just been easier to focus it all on that one little movement.

"It already smells incredible," he praises, leaning down to take in deep inhalations, letting out a pleased murmur before he takes a bite. It doesn't disappoint. "If ever you decide not to produce art, I think you could have a backup career in this," he praises, mouth still half-full.

"That's fine, thank you," Joe answers, warmly. He will have to wash the bathrobe before he gets tempted to do something a little creepy like wear it to bed so he can smell like Nicolo.

"You did," he allows, smiling. "Most people do, I told you. It wasn't bad enough that I couldn't sketch you." Just very, very distracting.

Joe grins, bright and fond. "That's it? No notes from sharp-penned critic Nicky di Genova?" He puts his hand over his heart, laughing at his own antics. "I am honored."

Nicky groans audibly, because he should have known that Joe wouldn't let him get away with this date without poking at him. Maybe he even deserves it, but he shakes his head and digs in with another bite. "When it's made to perfection like this, what is there to critique?" he wonders.

Besides, it's true. Whereas Joe's art can do better (not necessarily his talent, just his subjects and distribution), his cooking has nothing holding him back.

"I enjoyed watching you draw me," Nicky confesses, "I've never seen behind the artist's curtain before, to their process."

"Nothing, you're correct," Joe says, winningly. He takes another bite too, enjoying the dish and enjoying watching Nicky eat.

He makes a face, a little rueful. "I don't know if it was a good representation of my process, really. It was mostly me desperately trying to focus enough so that I could draw." And not just think about Nicky's naked body under the flimsy robe.

"But I'm glad you had a good experience, despite our misunderstanding," he adds, warmly.