If the positions were reversed, Joe would be on the floor after a comment like that. The cross and petulant glare is a familiar expression for Joe, because it's very much one of the ones he wore the first night of the exhibition, in the middle of one or two sneering argument points.
"Okay," he echoes Joe's words and tone, scoffing. He knows it's a joke, yet he climbs off Joe and bears in until his lips are hovering oh-so-close to Joe's, but, "I wouldn't want to give you just an okay kiss," he laments, "after such okay sex."
Yes, he is being a dramatic asshole. Yes, Joe should get used to it.
"I will go and fetch some okay towels to clean you up, in an okay fashion."
Joe has to laugh at the look Nicky gives him, a mix of fond annoyance and disgust at the joke he just made. It is very reminiscent of the way Nicky looked at his art the first time they met, and Joe finds himself oddly endeared by it.
Nicky's response is so dramatic Joe can't help but grin in return, thoroughly enjoying Nicky's mock-outrage. "I was joking, habibi," he hastens to say, pretending he is buying into Nicky's play at disappointment. "Tesoro," he adds, clearly sweet-talking now, making a show of taking Nicky's hands in his and kissing his fingers. "Ya Amar. Forgive me."
He pulls Nicky in again, gentle but insistent. "Please," he says, more softly, putting his arms around Nicky's shoulders to keep him close. "It was incredible. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Perhaps ever." His eyes are dark and bright, and his tone is earnest.
Nicky really is trying to keep up his outrage, but with every additional treasure of a sweet endearment, he folds a little more, until Joe has him absolutely melting towards him, leaning in for the kiss he so completely deserves for those kind words.
"Forgiven," he assures, between kisses, but he is trying to squirm away, not for okay cleaning, but because he does want to towel Joe off before bed. "Wait here," he murmurs, kissing Joe's neck, before murmuring, "Il mio principe," in a rough, low voice.
He returns swiftly with a warm wash cloth, taking the time to clean Joe off, and himself, even if there's nothing to do about his sheets right now. It's good enough, and he settles back into Joe's arms within minutes. "No ex-boyfriends giving you sex that okay?" And it's not let go, not fully.
It's very nice to see Nicky melt in his hands and Joe tilts his chin up for the kiss, closing his eyes a little at how good it is, even now that they are both spent. "I'll wait," he agrees, cupping Nicky's face with both his hands tenderly. The Italian pet name makes him smile, and he likes the way it sounds in Nicky's low voice, his accent curling around the soft syllables.
"Grazie" he whispers, letting Nicky wipe his chest down and settling into bed. The sheets are damp on one side but they can curl together on the other, Joe happy to pull Nicky close and wrap his arms around him.
He grins at the question, kissing along Nicky's jaw. "Nicolo, I can say with absolute certainty that this was the okayest sex I've ever had," he teases in return, snorting.
Nicky wraps his arms around Joe, but that doesn't feel right. He shifts a little, lets Joe pull him close, and then wriggles back into his arms to get comfortable, sighing with delight when he feels the steady security of Joe's arms around him.
He's delighted to hear such okay praise, smugly grinning as he pulls a pillow towards his head. "You already know that you're better than my ex-boyfriends," he praises, such as they were. Nicky hasn't had many of them.
Strangely, not many people get past the prickly exterior. Odd, isn't it?
"Well, if it was okay, then you won't be upset if I use it as inspiration for my book?"
Humming, Joe lets Nicky shift and wriggle until he's comfortable, wrapping both arms around him securely. He likes to hold his lovers as he sleeps, and he's happy to see that Nicky seems to enjoy being held. Not everyone does.
"Too late for them," Joe teases, kissing Nicky's shoulder. "They had their shot, they missed." And now Joe is the one in Nicky's arms, and he doesn't intend on letting go anytime soon.
Joe chuckles at the idea, nuzzling against Nicky's warm skin. "As long as your green-eyed heroine has a great time, be my guest," he allows, amused. "I look forward to reading it." He means that, too. Nicky is good at writing sex scenes, even if heterosexual romance doesn't do much for Joe. He grins. "I'm happy to play out any wild fantasies you want to include in the book, for the record. For research purposes, of course."
It's strange for Nicky to feel so comfortable with someone, but when Joe wraps him up, there's no fear or stress or doubt. This is the only place he's meant to be. His eyes fall shut, but his lips curve upwards with delight to think about anyone who missed their shot.
"What I don't understand," he admits, "is how you were still single," he confesses. "I can be a bit much, but you, Joe. You already practically are a hero in a romance novel. You are smart and handsome and funny and your body is made for impure thoughts." He groans as he settles back into his arms. "And speaking of those fantasies and sins, you can deliver a list to me of all the things you think my protagonist should do with his green-eyed heroine. I will take it under advisement."
"Nicky, you can't just ask a guy what's wrong with him on a second date," Joe complains, though he is very flattered by the way Nicky chose to ask. He stays silent for a few seconds, sounding thoughtful when he replies. "I can be a bit much too, you know. I get very intense about things. I can spend hours painting, and forget about everything else."
He hums, grinning as he considers the request. "Do you want me to write you a list of what I think your heroine could do with her dashing artist?" he prods, amused. "Or do you want a list of everything I'd like to do with you?" He nudges Nicky playfully. "I can do both, but they are different lists, I think."
Nicky shouldn't, but he thinks it's a necessary question because Joe really does seem too good to be true, so how could it be that he's single? Even when he gives Nicky a reason, it doesn't sound accurate, because what's so bad about being intense and having a hobby?
People are idiots, or Joe isn't telling him something, he thinks.
"I would like a list of what you think the heroine should do with her dashing artist," he says calmly. "And then I will enjoy getting to think about ways to adapt it so I can do that with my dashing one," he teases, eyes sparkling as he looks back at Joe, a sleepy smile on his lips.
Joe isn't hiding anything: he has flaws, and Nicky has already seen most of them. Perhaps it is simply that he wasn't meant to meet to right person until now.
He shifts when Nicky turns around to look at him, leaning up so he can give him one last soft kiss. "I see. This way my imagination benefits both your art and your personal life," Joe teases, sounding amused. He's nodding, still. Nicky wants a list of the many ways Joe is willing to romance him, he can have it. "Are you as good at making breakfast as you are at making dinner?" he inquires, nuzzling back against the nape of Nicky's neck, closing his eyes.
Maybe, Nicky thinks, the reason they're well suited is because Nicky looks at Joe's flaws and doesn't see them that way. They're not something that would frustrate him, so much as something that would work in a very compatible way to him.
It's all about finding the right person, isn't it?
Groaning, he collapses back on his front, dragging his pillow further forward, away from Joe. "What are you talking about? I made dinner, it's your turn to cook," he says, grumbling as if he's truly upset, but clearly teasing.
That may very well be so. And in return, Joe has already seen the more abrasive sides of Nicky's personality, and found them oddly charming.
He laughs when Nicky grumbles and shifts away, leaning in so he can rest his cheek on Nicky's back again, tugging him back into his arms. "Fair enough. I can make breakfast, if you'd like" He smiles against Nicky's skin. "But you might have to wake me up, I'm not a morning person."
Nicky definitely is a morning person, preferring to attack the day with coffee, a newspaper, and maybe a few errands done as he wakes up, s he suspects that Joe is going to end up getting breakfast in bed anyway. "Hmm," is all he says out loud instead, almost like he has to now adjust his expectations.
"Well," he sighs, "I suppose you cannot be perfect." He squeezes Joe's hands around his waist to encourage him to keep holding on, and it's complete crap, because he thinks Joe is plenty perfect, just as he is -- flaws and all.
Despite a lovely week-end spent at Nicky's flat, kissing him until they were both breathless and eating too much delicious Italian food, the following week was very stressful for Joe. There were several problems at the gallery and with a sponsor, and he had to fix a lot of unexpected messes.
So, when Nicky had mentioned being tired after a long week too, Joe hadn't hesitated to offer something casual and relaxed for their third date.
Which is how they find themselves in Joe's studio, lounging on the couch in front of the Joe's big windows, the sun streaming in and painting them both gold. Joe has his feet in Nicky's lap and he's carefully doing small sketches with watercolor touches. He started with flowers and is now painting Nicky eyes, the color barely visible because Nicky is looking down at the book he's reading. There is tea and cake on the coffee table and jazz playing quietly in the background, and this is exactly the kind of date Joe needed after the exhausting week he had.
His week has been very stressful. One of the artists he reviewed is now threatening to sue him, which is ridiculous because Nicky gave them a fine review, but it's not his fault they're a disaster on social media. Then, the book has been progressing, but not as fast as his agent wants, which is why he's so grateful to be on Joe's couch, stroking his thumb in circles at Joe's ankle, enjoying their closeness.
The sweep of his thumb brushes against soft skin and the hint of his ankle bone, and Nicky thinks about how this is a perfect weekend, something he could do every weekend. And, he supposes he can? Only, they haven't exactly talked about this, have they?
He bookmarks the page of his book and turns to stare at Joe, brow furrowed with a slight pinch, because now that he's thought about it, it's hard to dismiss.
The gentle touch to his ankle is great and Joe is so comfortable just trying watercolors with Nicky's steady presence at his side. He's going to set the paint down soon, he thinks, and lean in to give Nicky another kiss.
In the mean time he goes through his watercolor palettes, setting them on the table carefully as he looks for the right color. "Do you think your eyes are more of a seaglass or a seafoam?" he inquires, making swatches of both and holding them up for Nicky to see. That's when he notices the furrowed eyebrows. "What? You don't like those?"
Nicky hasn't even realized how much he's frowning, probably because this is just the way his face naturally rests. He blinks a few times to try and dispel it, not meaning to make Joe think he's being critical. "I don't know that my eyes are either of those," he admits, throwing a new wrench into Joe's plans.
"No, it's not that," he admits, "Joe, I could do this every weekend," he says what's been on his mind, which is the furthest thing from a bad thing, and he can't help his delighted smile, even though it opens a very big can of worms.
Joe makes a face at the answer and turns the page back around so he can look at the colours again critically. "Your eyes are entirely too many colours," he grumbles, trying to mix another blue/green in to get the perfect shade.
He hums when Nicky tells him that he could do this every weekend, failing to see how that's an issue. "Yeah, it's nice." He looks up in time to catch Nicky's beautiful smile, and beams back. He nudges Nicky's belly with his toes. "I do want to take you out to good restaurants and bars and museums, but this is great too. Especially after such a long week."
They are. Nicky has heard this complaint before, when people ask if they're green or gray or blue. He's never been one to decide himself, but if he had to, he would think maybe they are more of a grayish-green, but he doesn't know a colour for that.
"You must suffer to paint them endlessly, then," he teases, setting his book on the table as he shifts towards Joe, cupping his ankle with his palm. "I like restaurants and bars too," he admits, "and museums, but I was thinking more that you're the only one that I want to do this with."
Perhaps Joe needs to add more grey. He's not thinking of it just yet, because Nicky's eyes are so vibrant it seems impossible the color would need more of a grey tint. He grins at Nicky's easy agreement, setting his notebook down. "However shall I cope?" he mock-laments with a deep sigh. He doesn't mind. He could spend hours looking at Nicky and trying to paint him better.
He shifts towards Nicky too, taking his hand in his own gently. "Lucky me," he comments, though he's beginning to see where this is going. "I want to do it with you, too." He kisses the back of Nicky's hand. "Is this the talk about how serious we think this relationship should be?" He asks, still smiling though he'll be entirely honest about it he subject.
Nicky turns his hand to squeeze Joe's, shifting a little closer with every moment, until he's all but in Joe's lap while they talk about the very thing that's been on Nicky's mind. To say it's been stressing him out is a lie -- it's not stress -- but it is something he can't exactly shake.
"It is," he admits. "This is technically only our third date, you know?" Yet, it doesn't feel like it. It feels like they've been on at least thirty, in his opinion.
Joe is all too happy to welcome Nicky closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and putting his free hand on his knee, keeping him near.
"Depends if you want to count that first time when I invited you to my exhibit and you called my body unrealistic as a date, really," Joe teases. Whether it is their third or fourth date still, he agrees that it feels like they've known each other for longer. He smiles, tucking a strand of Nicky's hair behind his ear gently. "I like you." That's an entirely honest answer. "I like spending time with you. I'd love to go on many more dates."
Nicky feels warmth, comfort, relaxation, joy. It's everything, and it's right here in Joe's arms, earning a bright smile as he settles in, content to be right here with him, but maybe not so much to just say that they're dating.
It doesn't feel like it's enough. "I like you too," he says, even if he's glaring at Joe. "Are you not going to let me live down what is a perfectly normal reaction? No one has that kind of body, not until you, and I thought if you did look like that, someone clearly would be dating you," he harrumphs.
"Is it just dating? Or is it too early to ask if I can call you my boyfriend?"
Joe grins brightly at Nicky's arch glare. "Come on, you know me enough to be able to tell that I am never going to let you live it down," he teases, poking Nicky's cheek with his finger playfully. "The look on your face when you saw me without a shirt for the first time will keep me warm on many lonely evenings, I think." He waggles his eyebrows, leaning his cheek against his hand, his elbow on the back of the couch.
He considers, humming. "You can call me your boyfriend. I'd like that." Joe is all in on this relationship, and if Nicky wants to go a little too fast, that works for him.
Nicky sighs heavily, knowing that he will never live it down, but if Joe is going to remind him about it...
He slides his palm under Joe's shirt to helpfully remind himself of the very nice muscles that his boyfriend has. His boyfriend. Yes, that has a very good ring to it, and his smile is a mysterious thing as he rubs circles. "I don't want you to have any lonely evenings from now," he insists, his eyes bright as he stares at Joe.
He's elated and ecstatic, but he's very much trying to hide it. "Are you sure? You don't think it's too quick, after only three dates?"
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"Okay," he echoes Joe's words and tone, scoffing. He knows it's a joke, yet he climbs off Joe and bears in until his lips are hovering oh-so-close to Joe's, but, "I wouldn't want to give you just an okay kiss," he laments, "after such okay sex."
Yes, he is being a dramatic asshole. Yes, Joe should get used to it.
"I will go and fetch some okay towels to clean you up, in an okay fashion."
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Nicky's response is so dramatic Joe can't help but grin in return, thoroughly enjoying Nicky's mock-outrage. "I was joking, habibi," he hastens to say, pretending he is buying into Nicky's play at disappointment. "Tesoro," he adds, clearly sweet-talking now, making a show of taking Nicky's hands in his and kissing his fingers. "Ya Amar. Forgive me."
He pulls Nicky in again, gentle but insistent. "Please," he says, more softly, putting his arms around Nicky's shoulders to keep him close. "It was incredible. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Perhaps ever." His eyes are dark and bright, and his tone is earnest.
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"Forgiven," he assures, between kisses, but he is trying to squirm away, not for okay cleaning, but because he does want to towel Joe off before bed. "Wait here," he murmurs, kissing Joe's neck, before murmuring, "Il mio principe," in a rough, low voice.
He returns swiftly with a warm wash cloth, taking the time to clean Joe off, and himself, even if there's nothing to do about his sheets right now. It's good enough, and he settles back into Joe's arms within minutes. "No ex-boyfriends giving you sex that okay?" And it's not let go, not fully.
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"Grazie" he whispers, letting Nicky wipe his chest down and settling into bed. The sheets are damp on one side but they can curl together on the other, Joe happy to pull Nicky close and wrap his arms around him.
He grins at the question, kissing along Nicky's jaw. "Nicolo, I can say with absolute certainty that this was the okayest sex I've ever had," he teases in return, snorting.
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He's delighted to hear such okay praise, smugly grinning as he pulls a pillow towards his head. "You already know that you're better than my ex-boyfriends," he praises, such as they were. Nicky hasn't had many of them.
Strangely, not many people get past the prickly exterior. Odd, isn't it?
"Well, if it was okay, then you won't be upset if I use it as inspiration for my book?"
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"Too late for them," Joe teases, kissing Nicky's shoulder. "They had their shot, they missed." And now Joe is the one in Nicky's arms, and he doesn't intend on letting go anytime soon.
Joe chuckles at the idea, nuzzling against Nicky's warm skin. "As long as your green-eyed heroine has a great time, be my guest," he allows, amused. "I look forward to reading it." He means that, too. Nicky is good at writing sex scenes, even if heterosexual romance doesn't do much for Joe. He grins. "I'm happy to play out any wild fantasies you want to include in the book, for the record. For research purposes, of course."
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"What I don't understand," he admits, "is how you were still single," he confesses. "I can be a bit much, but you, Joe. You already practically are a hero in a romance novel. You are smart and handsome and funny and your body is made for impure thoughts." He groans as he settles back into his arms. "And speaking of those fantasies and sins, you can deliver a list to me of all the things you think my protagonist should do with his green-eyed heroine. I will take it under advisement."
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He hums, grinning as he considers the request. "Do you want me to write you a list of what I think your heroine could do with her dashing artist?" he prods, amused. "Or do you want a list of everything I'd like to do with you?" He nudges Nicky playfully. "I can do both, but they are different lists, I think."
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People are idiots, or Joe isn't telling him something, he thinks.
"I would like a list of what you think the heroine should do with her dashing artist," he says calmly. "And then I will enjoy getting to think about ways to adapt it so I can do that with my dashing one," he teases, eyes sparkling as he looks back at Joe, a sleepy smile on his lips.
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He shifts when Nicky turns around to look at him, leaning up so he can give him one last soft kiss. "I see. This way my imagination benefits both your art and your personal life," Joe teases, sounding amused. He's nodding, still. Nicky wants a list of the many ways Joe is willing to romance him, he can have it. "Are you as good at making breakfast as you are at making dinner?" he inquires, nuzzling back against the nape of Nicky's neck, closing his eyes.
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It's all about finding the right person, isn't it?
Groaning, he collapses back on his front, dragging his pillow further forward, away from Joe. "What are you talking about? I made dinner, it's your turn to cook," he says, grumbling as if he's truly upset, but clearly teasing.
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He laughs when Nicky grumbles and shifts away, leaning in so he can rest his cheek on Nicky's back again, tugging him back into his arms. "Fair enough. I can make breakfast, if you'd like" He smiles against Nicky's skin. "But you might have to wake me up, I'm not a morning person."
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"Well," he sighs, "I suppose you cannot be perfect." He squeezes Joe's hands around his waist to encourage him to keep holding on, and it's complete crap, because he thinks Joe is plenty perfect, just as he is -- flaws and all.
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So, when Nicky had mentioned being tired after a long week too, Joe hadn't hesitated to offer something casual and relaxed for their third date.
Which is how they find themselves in Joe's studio, lounging on the couch in front of the Joe's big windows, the sun streaming in and painting them both gold. Joe has his feet in Nicky's lap and he's carefully doing small sketches with watercolor touches. He started with flowers and is now painting Nicky eyes, the color barely visible because Nicky is looking down at the book he's reading. There is tea and cake on the coffee table and jazz playing quietly in the background, and this is exactly the kind of date Joe needed after the exhausting week he had.
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His week has been very stressful. One of the artists he reviewed is now threatening to sue him, which is ridiculous because Nicky gave them a fine review, but it's not his fault they're a disaster on social media. Then, the book has been progressing, but not as fast as his agent wants, which is why he's so grateful to be on Joe's couch, stroking his thumb in circles at Joe's ankle, enjoying their closeness.
The sweep of his thumb brushes against soft skin and the hint of his ankle bone, and Nicky thinks about how this is a perfect weekend, something he could do every weekend. And, he supposes he can? Only, they haven't exactly talked about this, have they?
He bookmarks the page of his book and turns to stare at Joe, brow furrowed with a slight pinch, because now that he's thought about it, it's hard to dismiss.
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In the mean time he goes through his watercolor palettes, setting them on the table carefully as he looks for the right color. "Do you think your eyes are more of a seaglass or a seafoam?" he inquires, making swatches of both and holding them up for Nicky to see. That's when he notices the furrowed eyebrows. "What? You don't like those?"
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"No, it's not that," he admits, "Joe, I could do this every weekend," he says what's been on his mind, which is the furthest thing from a bad thing, and he can't help his delighted smile, even though it opens a very big can of worms.
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He hums when Nicky tells him that he could do this every weekend, failing to see how that's an issue. "Yeah, it's nice." He looks up in time to catch Nicky's beautiful smile, and beams back. He nudges Nicky's belly with his toes. "I do want to take you out to good restaurants and bars and museums, but this is great too. Especially after such a long week."
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"You must suffer to paint them endlessly, then," he teases, setting his book on the table as he shifts towards Joe, cupping his ankle with his palm. "I like restaurants and bars too," he admits, "and museums, but I was thinking more that you're the only one that I want to do this with."
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He shifts towards Nicky too, taking his hand in his own gently. "Lucky me," he comments, though he's beginning to see where this is going. "I want to do it with you, too." He kisses the back of Nicky's hand. "Is this the talk about how serious we think this relationship should be?" He asks, still smiling though he'll be entirely honest about it he subject.
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"It is," he admits. "This is technically only our third date, you know?" Yet, it doesn't feel like it. It feels like they've been on at least thirty, in his opinion.
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"Depends if you want to count that first time when I invited you to my exhibit and you called my body unrealistic as a date, really," Joe teases. Whether it is their third or fourth date still, he agrees that it feels like they've known each other for longer. He smiles, tucking a strand of Nicky's hair behind his ear gently. "I like you." That's an entirely honest answer. "I like spending time with you. I'd love to go on many more dates."
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It doesn't feel like it's enough. "I like you too," he says, even if he's glaring at Joe. "Are you not going to let me live down what is a perfectly normal reaction? No one has that kind of body, not until you, and I thought if you did look like that, someone clearly would be dating you," he harrumphs.
"Is it just dating? Or is it too early to ask if I can call you my boyfriend?"
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He considers, humming. "You can call me your boyfriend. I'd like that." Joe is all in on this relationship, and if Nicky wants to go a little too fast, that works for him.
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He slides his palm under Joe's shirt to helpfully remind himself of the very nice muscles that his boyfriend has. His boyfriend. Yes, that has a very good ring to it, and his smile is a mysterious thing as he rubs circles. "I don't want you to have any lonely evenings from now," he insists, his eyes bright as he stares at Joe.
He's elated and ecstatic, but he's very much trying to hide it. "Are you sure? You don't think it's too quick, after only three dates?"
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