"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.
"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.
Joe's lips curve up and he leans against the door frame, watching Nicky step back. "All night?" he teases, licking his lower lip at the idea. "That's flattering."
He doesn't actually say so but he will do much the same, tidying up the kitchen before he takes a very hot shower. When he wraps his fingers around his cock, he thinks about Nicky's large hand on his naked thigh, about the way his eyes looked as they got dark, about the warm brush of his lips to Joe's.
He keeps his word too, texting Nicky the next morning, casually asking how his day is going, just keeping in touch. He e-mails him twice during the week too.
First, to answer his review. Joe's e-mail will come soon after Nicky publishes the review because he set an alert for it and answers immediately after reading it. It's a relatively mild review -at least much kinder than Nicky's original one- but there are still a few points Joe wants to argue. He doesn't sound angry in his email however, merely disputing Nicky's conclusion.
Then, he emails Nicky scans of the art he created basing himself on Nicky's modeling. There are cleaned-up color versions of the sketches he drew, Nicky's body pale in that silky bathrobe, his eyes luminous and wanting, his strong fingers against his delicate mouth. On the last one Nicky's hand has been replaced with Joe's, his artist's fingers gently framing Nicky's jaw, his thumb leaving a dark smudge of charcoal against the corner of his lips.
Nicky can't lie. He's utterly delighted to find a reply to his review, even if he hadn't been intentionally trying to bait Joe, not this tie. Still, he loves getting the review back, because it gives him the opportunity to go over it and pick apart the reply as well, fighting back and defending his words.
Of course, then Joe has to go and leave him utterly breathless with the art. It takes him a few hours to clearly register coherent thoughts and not just want, lips tingling at the thought of Joe's finger on him. He sends a new email, holding himself together, as he replies to say: See? I told you that if you branch out, you'll find new limits. You should show this to a good friend and see if they notice, but I think there's a spark here I never saw before.
They can get a little back and forth going, Joe answering Nicky's reply, conceding some points and arguing others. It makes for a passionate debate, though not nearly as angry as their original exchange had been.
Ah, but Nicolo, is the spark in my art, or was it in your eyes?
Joe grins as he replies, but he will take Nicky's advice and forward that last drawing to his agent, Booker. Thank you. With your permission, I will send these to my agent, and see what he thinks.
The spark was in your lips, which I think we both know.
It's not a lie, as he replies, and with the space between them, Nicky even feels safe to say it. As for the permission, there is a war within him. The stubborn part of him says that to be proven right, of course Joe must share the art, and with whomever he likes. The more cautious part with some dignity reminds him of what that art is.
Stubbornness wins out (unsurprisingly).
Send them. Then you can tell me on Saturday how I was right.
My lips, and yours, is Joe's answer. He can't wait to kiss Nicky again, properly this time, to cradle that beautiful face with both hands and hold him close.
Thank you, I will. And you'd like that, wouldn't you? Joe grins as he sends his reply. Nicky might very well be right, Joe thinks this particular drawing does have something none of his self-portraits did. But he's not sure whether it comes from Joe himself, or from his model.
In case, he does forward the drawings to Booker, and will tell Nicky his agent's reply when he sees him on Saturday. The rest of the week drags on, and Joe makes sure to keep texting Nicky, not enough to be annoying but enough to keep them both thinking about each other, sharing pictures and interesting stories.
Nicky wouldn't just like that, he would be absolutely, unendingly smug, and he thinks that Joe would just have to put up with it while he eats Nicky's delicious food and is entertained by his company. He's fairly sure that Joe could put up with all of these things.
Come Saturday, he wakes early and puts on a comfortable grey long-sleeved sweater that might just be a little too baggy, but he makes up for it with tight jeans. Barefoot, he wanders around the kitchen and works on the cannoli and the lasagna, the apron protecting his clothes.
Once it's closer to dinner, he opens the door so that Joe can wander in while he finishes up, but not before Nicky dims the lights, and lights some candles on the kitchen table, eager to set a romantic mood. He's made sure everything is perfect for tonight, so long as he doesn't screw it all up.
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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.
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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.
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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."
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"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."
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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.
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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.
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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."
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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."
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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."
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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."
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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."
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"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.
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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."
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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.
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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.
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"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."
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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.
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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."
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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.
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He doesn't actually say so but he will do much the same, tidying up the kitchen before he takes a very hot shower. When he wraps his fingers around his cock, he thinks about Nicky's large hand on his naked thigh, about the way his eyes looked as they got dark, about the warm brush of his lips to Joe's.
He keeps his word too, texting Nicky the next morning, casually asking how his day is going, just keeping in touch. He e-mails him twice during the week too.
First, to answer his review. Joe's e-mail will come soon after Nicky publishes the review because he set an alert for it and answers immediately after reading it. It's a relatively mild review -at least much kinder than Nicky's original one- but there are still a few points Joe wants to argue. He doesn't sound angry in his email however, merely disputing Nicky's conclusion.
Then, he emails Nicky scans of the art he created basing himself on Nicky's modeling. There are cleaned-up color versions of the sketches he drew, Nicky's body pale in that silky bathrobe, his eyes luminous and wanting, his strong fingers against his delicate mouth. On the last one Nicky's hand has been replaced with Joe's, his artist's fingers gently framing Nicky's jaw, his thumb leaving a dark smudge of charcoal against the corner of his lips.
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Of course, then Joe has to go and leave him utterly breathless with the art. It takes him a few hours to clearly register coherent thoughts and not just want, lips tingling at the thought of Joe's finger on him. He sends a new email, holding himself together, as he replies to say: See? I told you that if you branch out, you'll find new limits. You should show this to a good friend and see if they notice, but I think there's a spark here I never saw before.
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Ah, but Nicolo, is the spark in my art, or was it in your eyes?
Joe grins as he replies, but he will take Nicky's advice and forward that last drawing to his agent, Booker. Thank you. With your permission, I will send these to my agent, and see what he thinks.
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It's not a lie, as he replies, and with the space between them, Nicky even feels safe to say it. As for the permission, there is a war within him. The stubborn part of him says that to be proven right, of course Joe must share the art, and with whomever he likes. The more cautious part with some dignity reminds him of what that art is.
Stubbornness wins out (unsurprisingly).
Send them. Then you can tell me on Saturday how I was right.
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Thank you, I will. And you'd like that, wouldn't you? Joe grins as he sends his reply. Nicky might very well be right, Joe thinks this particular drawing does have something none of his self-portraits did. But he's not sure whether it comes from Joe himself, or from his model.
In case, he does forward the drawings to Booker, and will tell Nicky his agent's reply when he sees him on Saturday. The rest of the week drags on, and Joe makes sure to keep texting Nicky, not enough to be annoying but enough to keep them both thinking about each other, sharing pictures and interesting stories.
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Come Saturday, he wakes early and puts on a comfortable grey long-sleeved sweater that might just be a little too baggy, but he makes up for it with tight jeans. Barefoot, he wanders around the kitchen and works on the cannoli and the lasagna, the apron protecting his clothes.
Once it's closer to dinner, he opens the door so that Joe can wander in while he finishes up, but not before Nicky dims the lights, and lights some candles on the kitchen table, eager to set a romantic mood. He's made sure everything is perfect for tonight, so long as he doesn't screw it all up.
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