topino | (no subject)

Nicky's softened immeasurably since he first walked into Joe's home, and right now, he's staring at him with his mouth open slightly, almost as if he's utterly entranced by this gorgeous man in front of him. It's as if a spell has been cast over him.

"I always like sweet things," he agrees, eyes bright when Joe mentions ice cream. "What flavour?"

That too is a good look on Nicky's face, soft but intent, watching Joe with just as much attention as Joe is watching him. It makes it hard for Joe not to lean in and kiss his parted lips.

"I got chocolate, vanilla, and mint," he says, standing up to open the freezer and get the tubs out. "I didn't know what you liked, so I played it safe."

"And the spoons are where?" he requests (more like demands, because dinner was very good, but Nicky loves a sweet thing and right now, Joe's just put a whole line of them in front of his eyes). "You can't show me this many sugary pictures of heaven and then not give me a way to eat them."

This also feels like it could get dangerous, what with his mouth and tongue curling around the ice cream on the spoon, and vice-versa, but Nicky's brain hasn't exactly caught up to that thought, not yet.

"In the drawer over there," Joe answers, laughing at Nicky's eagerness to have ice-cream. "Get some bowls too." He opens the tubs and peels the lids back, smiling because the ice cream looks great.

He will get himself a scoop of mint, and offer whatever flavor Nicky wants to him. He hasn't really thought ahead about Nicky licking his spoon or feeding him ice-cream (the olives were bad enough) and he sits blissfully unaware of the coming danger, humming because the mint is delicious.

Nicky springs up from his seat to fetch spoons, opening several cupboards until he finds bowls, trying not to think too much about the fact that he's rifling around in Joe's kitchen like he could belong there. One day, maybe. If he doesn't fuck this up, maybe ice cream at Joe's will become something of a tradition.

Nicky digs into the chocolate, because he wants the richest thing available, and he serves it in three heaping scoops before he puts the lid back on, wrapping his tongue around the back of the spoon to clear it off, sitting back down as he laves his tongue around it one more time, not willing to waste a single bit. "This is very good," he praises, with a hint of a moan trapped in his words. "Where did you get it?"

"Same store I got the olives," Joe answers, easily. "I'll take you some day, if you like. If you sweet talk the owner in Italian, we might get a discount." He'd also like to hear Nicky talk Italian because he thinks it will be very attractive, but Nicky doesn't need to know that just yet.

Joe's eyes zero on the way Nicky's licking his spoon almost immediately, first because he's glad he's enjoying it and then because, well. Seeing Nicky lick something with great enthusiasm is not helping the simmering state of arousal he's been in all evening. "I'm glad you like it," he returns, faintly, spooning more mint ice cream in his mouth so he doesn't say anything inappropriate.

"I think you just want to hear me speak Italian," is Nicky's response to that, but it's not like he minds. He'd speak Italian to Joe all night if that's what he wants. He dips the spoon into the bowl, not so much licking now as honestly attacking the ice cream.

Dinner and the olives had been excellent, but there's always room for dessert, in his opinion.

"You uh..." He had been thinking something, hadn't he? Only, he's staring at Joe's lips now, and all the thoughts just flew out of his mind. Strange, that.

"I think you might be right, I would enjoy that," Joe admits, grinning. Italian is a beautiful language, and he knows it will sound great on Nicky's lips.

It takes Joe a few seconds to notice that Nicky has stopped right in the middle of his sentence, caught as he is watching Nicky's face while he eats his dessert, the pleased spark in his eyes, his reddened lips. "...yeah?" he prompts, his eyebrows arching. Nicky is staring at his mouth again and it sends a shiver down Joe's spine.

Nicky's lips are still parted, really only clocking the sheen on Joe's beautiful red lips, the way the spoon keeps sliding in, the hint of tongue (as his mind gets extremely jealous). He knows he's supposed to be speaking, but it takes a good minute for thoughts to click in again.

Luckily, they do.

"I was just going to say, some day, I will take you to get gelato and order for you in Italian, though, it really is done best in Italy."

To be fair, when he notices Nicky staring, Joe does lick his own spoon a little more intently, making each bite last. That probably isn't helping Nicky concentrate, but Joe is enjoying the look on his face.

"I'd like that," he agrees, smiling. "I went to Rome, when I was younger. The ice-cream was very good. And much cheaper than it is here." He tilts his head to the side. "What's your favorite flavor? So I know for next time."

It's easier to shift focus away from Joe's lips when he's given something to think about. "I always liked stracciatella," he admits. "It's vanilla, but with chocolate shavings, so you get a little of each. And, of course, there is really no comparison to a nocciola, a hazelnut," he explains a moment later.

There is probably a very filthy joke about nuts in there, but Nicky is not going to make it.

"Besides, you did very well for your choice. This, the olives, and your excellent dinner, you will hear no complaints from me. Tonight," he adds, as if he wants to keep Joe on his toes.

Joe hums in agreement. He would like the stracciatella and the hazelnut, he thinks. They can try that at some point. He grins, pleased by Nicky's compliment. "They were safe choices. You were bound to like at least one out of the three most popular flavors."

He laughs, leaning back in his chair and pouring the last of the wine bottle in both their glasses. "I would say I miss your complaining, but I know it'll be back soon enough," he points out, not truly meaning it. "I'm glad you had a good time. I did," he says, more genuinely.

"I like all of them." He doesn't love mint, but seeing it on Joe's lips makes him reconsider, because he thinks he could very much like it, especially if he were going to lick it off Joe's lips, which sounds like a very promising idea.

He's staring at him for a long moment, sipping at the wine and thinking about how he's going to leave this tonight. He already has a second date, but does he trust himself to kiss Joe before then? "I had a good time too, even if you did get me naked within the first fifteen minutes of being here. Usually, that takes time."

"Good," Joe says, warmly. "An easy man, I like that," he teases, because Nicky has been anything but easy so far. He sips on his wine and stares right back, comfortable with looking a little awed and out of his depth, since that's also what he's seeing on Nicky's face.

This is going spectacularly well, and Joe can't wait for their next date.

"What can I say, I'm very charming," he jokes, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry again for assuming you realized what I meant when I asked you to model. I should have made sure." He grins. "But perhaps the robe was a blessing. We were both distracted enough already."

Nicky smirks, his lips curving up with a very smug type of delight. "Oh, I don't know. You'll have to work on me a little harder before you can call me easy." After all, here he is being polite about waiting for the second date.

He's very sorry when he has the last sip of wine, even though it's probably for the best. Next week, not only will there be wine, but Nicky will make sure to add plenty of coffee for the morning after.

Hopefully.

"I did not ask your preferred method of sketching," he admits. "I shoulder some blame, but you're right. It all worked out, didn't it?" Better than he might have hoped. "Maybe next week, I will insist on a robe for you."

Joe grins back, delighted. Nicky has accused him of being an incorrigible flirt -and rightly so- but it seems he's now comfortable enough to flirt in return and Joe loves it. "I'm very hard-working," he returns, playfully. "I'll work very hard, you'll see."

It did work out, and Joe got to sketch Nicky's beautiful face, his hands, his legs. He needs to work some more on the portrait to make it truly great, but he would still call this a successful session, despite how hard it was to concentrate.

He leans back, putting his hands behind his head as he makes a show of relaxing in his chair. "I have no problem wearing a robe if that's your thing," he taunts, arching his eyebrows. "Pick a colour that suits my complexion, please."

"I will," he agrees, happy to play along with Joe as his lips curve upwards with delight, scraping his spoon along the bowl for the last bits of his dessert, the sweet sugar of the ice cream intoxicating on his lips, even if the taste of Joe's kisses would obviously be much better.

His eyes skim Joe's body and suddenly, all he wants is to go out and buy a very short blood red silk robe. It sends a shiver through his body that he fights to quell, reminding himself that he's behaving. "Well," he says, calm as he can be, "in that case, I can't wait for next week."

Joe stretches a little when he sees that Nicky's watching his body, showily. It brings a little color to Nicky's cheeks and Joe smiles, pleased. What is Nicky thinking about, he wonders, and how can Joe find out?

"Me neither," he says, his voice low and intent. "You promised me lasagna, after all." And many other pleasures, but Joe won't say that just yet. He knows he's going to get lost in Nicky's eyes if he stares too long so he doesn't, sitting up instead. "Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee?" he offers, trying to sound casual.

Nicky shakes his head to deny the offer. "If I have anything caffeinated, I will be up all night," he demurs, which is an excuse given that the real reason is that if Nicky stays even another half an hour, he's going to start forgetting why he's waiting.

Even now, his body is urging him to forget, but Joe isn't a one-night conquest. At least, hopefully not.

"I wouldn't want to keep you up, either," Nicky insists. "I'm sure you're a very busy man."

"I don't have much planned tomorrow," Joe answers, smiling. "I have to work on your portrait, but that's about it. But I don't want to keep you up either. Sharp-worded criticism doesn't write itself, I'm assuming." He sounds almost fond about Nicky's reviews now, which is a little stunning, even to his own ears, considering just how much he disliked them only a week ago.

Joe doesn't want Nicky to leave honestly, but he can recognize that it might be the best course of action at this point. And he doesn't want to seem clingy and make Nicky uncomfortable, either.

"Your review may be pending, but there are many other artists who are going to be mad at me, and they don't even know it." He dabs a napkin over his lips as he rises to his feet, reluctant but with a smooth motion.

Not once has he taken his eyes off Joe, not forgetting how he looked at him when Nicky had been in nothing more than that little pink robe. Next time, he will let Joe sketch him in nothing, but he's also hoping by next time, Joe will have already seen him that way.

"Walk me to the door?" he requests.

"I'm sure there are," Joe agrees, pleasantly. He arches his eyebrows and stands up as well, watching Nicky closely. It seems neither of them can look away, even now that the moment they will inevitably be apart is coming closer and closer.

"I'll get your coat." And so Joe does, holding it up for Nicky to slip into, his hand lingering on his shoulder for a few seconds. "I'll see you next week-end, then," he says, slowly, his eyes intent on Nicky's face. One corner of his lips curves out. "And reply to your review before that, I imagine."

"Grazie," Nicky praises, when Joe helps him into his coat. "Ever the perfect gentleman," is an additional tease as he turns to face Joe, letting his fingers slide right off his shoulder. He does wait until he's at the door, and even opens it with one foot keeping it open, but he's not planning to leave.

Not yet.

It really has been the perfect evening, but there's only one thing that could make it better. After staring at Joe's lips for so long with the ice cream, he thinks he deserves this. If nothing else, he should get this. Nicky lifts his gaze to Joe's temple, sliding two fingers over the hair there, tracing down his jaw, and using those fingers to get a loose hold on Joe's neck as he leans in to press a chaste, but lingering kiss to the corner of Joe's lips.

The brush of warmth is so tempting, but despite Nicky's lingering there for a moment, he finds the strength to pull back, before he takes any more. "I can't wait to check my email on Tuesday evening," he says roughly.

Joe stays very still, his eyes falling half shut as he leans into Nicky's touch, feeling the warm brush of gentle fingers against his face. His lips part a little in surprise as Nicky presses a kiss to them, slightly too off-center to be satisfying. It's electric, even this chaste brush of lips together, sending a shiver down Joe's spine. He smiles into it, his eyes bright when Nicky leans away.

His hand, he notices, has somehow landed on Nicky's elbow. He gives him a squeeze before letting go. He wants nothing more than to pull Nicky close and kiss him properly, but he'll behave.

"I'll make it work your while," Joe answers and his voice is very low, his eyes dark as they watch Nicky. He doesn't reach out, letting Nicky leave. It costs him still, and it shows on his face. "Have a nice week. I'll text you."

Nicky swears his entire being simply dissolves into a warmth he's never felt before when Joe grasps his elbow. There's a palpable tension in the air and it makes him think that seeing Joe next week will be the very best thing in his life.

Still, the hardest thing is right now, in leaving. "Enjoy the rest of your ice cream," he finally speaks, voice rough. "And I will think of you, all night," he warns, as he goes.

He stays true to his promise. He thinks of Joe that night when he's in bed, slipping his hand down his boxers. He thinks of Joe all the next day, especially when he gives up on writing reviews and turns instead to the romance novel manuscript. He thinks of Joe the whole week, especially when the review of his exhibit comes out.

And, true to his word, he keeps his phone near, eager for another text from Joe, another interaction, something more to see if that electric connection is real and can sustain.