topino | (no subject)

Nicky is going to miss the warmth of the shower water in combination with Joe's body, but luckily, he doesn't have to give up one of those things, which has him smiling like an idiot.

"I think it would be smart to have something to eat. I don't know about you," is his cool, teasing reply, "but someone in this home completely wore me out with painting and some other activities." He tightens his towel around him as he steps out, shaking a hand through his wet hair and leaving it disastrous.

"Some other activities, uh?" Joe repeats, grinning sunnily. "I'm sorry you have suffered so. I can definitely make you something to eat." He doesn't mind. He'll make something simple they can eat before getting ready for bed.

He dries himself and puts on a T-shirt and comfortable jogging pants, taking a little time to put oil in his hair and curl it back into place with a brush. Looking up, he can see Nicky drying himself and leaving his hair in complete disarray. "Oh, habibi, no," he sighs, beckoning Nicky closer to brush his hair back and put a little oil there so it dries nice and shiny.

"I have suffered deeply," Nicky says with a mocking look on his face as he wraps the towel around his waist, grinning as he watches Joe putting his clothes on. He pauses, though, as Joe fixes his hair, raising a brow when product gets involved.

That's not what he'd been expecting to borrow. "I had been hoping you might lend me some boxers and a t-shirt, not hair gel," he says with the mild disdain of a man who doesn't use any of that. He sort of just pushes it back and lets it fall where it likes, without product.

"Yes, I could tell," Joe teases in return, grinning. "I know what a hardship it must have been, spending the day with me."

He focuses on brushing Nicky's hair back, making sure to use enough oil to give it shine but not so much that it'll be greasy. "It's not gel," he says, rolling his eyes. "It's hair oil. It'll nourish your hair and keep it nice and smooth." He gestures at his own curls. "Trust me on this, yes?" Joe does have lovely hair to prove it.

"I'll let you borrow some clothes too, come on," he says, leading the way to the bedroom so he can open his closet for Nicky. "Anything you like. You get dressed, I'll make dinner."

"I will have to keep coming back to steel myself up for more of it," Nicky replies, reaching out to slide his fingers into Joe's lovely curls, but only so he can pull himself in for a kiss before availing himself to Joe's closet.

Once inside, he doesn't actually fetch a t-shirt and boxers, since they'll be eating. Instead, he finds a comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt that strains at his shoulders, but fits loose everywhere else, and a pair of joggers that he puts on without underwear.

He does, unfortunately, deliberately give his hair one last subconscious shake with his hand before heading out to the kitchen so he can plaster himself to Joe's back, kissing his neck. "What are you making me?" he mumbles.

"That's the only way, I'm afraid," Joe teases, playing along. He lets Nicky mess up his hair with a chuckle, returning the kiss.

"Lamb tagine with prunes and almonds," Joe answers, smiling when Nicky steps behind him and holds him close. "Not mine, the little old Tunisian lady next door gave me some when I fixed her water heater. It's very good." He turns his head to give Nicky's cheek a kiss. "Found what you wanted?" The clothes, he means.

"Oh, so now I have to be jealous of the little old Tunisian lady who feeds you well too?" Nicky is all about the dramatic huffing, kissing Joe's cheek again as he tightens his hold on him. "I might need a list of all the people in love with you, Joe," he informs him, mock-serious. "Otherwise, how am I going to know who I have to fight?"

He leans down a touch to pluck the joggers. "I went a little warmer than originally planned, but it looked cozy. I may have stretched out the shoulders of this shirt," he admits, "but it looked like a loose shirt to begin with."

Joe chuckles, amused by Nicky's dramatic huffing. "It's not like that, really, you don't need to fight my little old Tunisia neighbor," he reassures, grinning. "Mariem's not in love with me. But she did call me her grandson, the other day," he teases, nudging Nicky gently.

He turns around in Nicky's arms to look at him, humming in approval. "It's a workout shirt, you can stretch the shoulders, it doesn't matter," he says, putting one hand on Nicky's hip. He likes seeing him wearing his clothes, actually. It satisfies something deep inside him. "You do look cozy," he adds, smiling even as he leans in for a soft kiss.

"I would," is his counterpoint, though he thinks that he would likely end up doing a lot of bickering and likely a recipe cook-off of some kind where he kindly informs this lovely Tunisian grandmother that he will be taking care of Joe now, but she can certainly help.

He's also not convinced there isn't a little infatuation because, well, look at Joe.

"Good, because the shoulders are already gone," he happily says. "And I feel cozy. I chose very cozy clothes, and you may have to tell me where you got them."

"I know you would," Joe returns, amused. "And I'm not sure I'd bet on you. She's feisty," he teases, putting his other hand on Nicky's hip and giving him a gentle squeeze.

He hums and strokes his hands up to Nicky's shoulders, taking them in happily. The shirt looks good, tightly stretched over Nicky's broad shoulders. "You can just keep borrowing mine," Joe offers, pleased that Nicky is feeling warm and comfortable. "I like seeing you in them." And he does, even if they don't fit perfectly.

He pats Nicky's shoulders. "Go sit down, I'll bring you your food."

Nicky would probably end up losing, humbled, with his head down and begging for forgiveness, so he doesn't argue that. Joe's absolutely right, but he's still looking forward to the dinner from the grandmotherly neighbour (that he may or may not have to fight).

He peers down at the shirt, shrugging like it's no big deal, even though it is to him. "Well, I could bring my own things here, but with such a kind offer, I'm not sure I want to," he says, settling down at the table, body aching, and eager for food.

"You can bring things here, if you'd like. A change of clothes, a toothbrush, whatever you want," Joe answers, earnestly. He doesn't mind, far from it. "I'll bring a few things to your place too, if that's okay," he offers, smiling.

He ladles lamb in a rich tomato sauce as well as prunes, almonds and vegetables into bowls, and brings them to the table. "Here," he says. "My payment for working hard on that leaky water heater."

"Books? Maybe some writing materials?" Nicky is thinking more about how he could spend his hours doing some of his writing in Joe's place, where he thinks he'll be more inspired to write about romance anyway. He would save his criticizing for his home office, but he has a feeling that he'll do better talking about his protagonist here.

After all, the new one is basically Joe.

He grins as he takes the bowl, tucking one leg under his ass to reach for a napkin and fork. "This much food, I think you're trying to put me to sleep," he accuses fondly. "I see your plan to make sure I stay." As if he'd go anywhere, barefoot and cozy as he is.

"Anything you like," Joe assures, smiling as he sits down. "We can put them in the painting studio, if you want, so we can work together." They might not talk while working -Joe suspects they both get quite absorbed in their work- but at least they will be together.

"Oh no," Joe says, dryly. "You've seen right through my cunning plan to make you stay so I can hold you through the night." He takes a bite from his dish, grinning brightly. "Foiled again." The tagine is just as good as he remembers and he hums, pouring Nicky a little wine to go with it.

Nicky gives a thoughtful nod as his mind helpfully begins to make plans for them, almost as if he hadn't been necessary in this equation at all. Joe says yes, so there will be a computer and some reference books, and his notes on the new novel.

It's settled.

"You may need to be shirtless," he warns, "if I plan to write here, I won't bother you, but if I look up and need inspiration, the model of my main character being as helpfully shirtless will only help." He's teasingly smiling, but he's not joking.

Nicky murmurs a soft 'thank you' for the wine, and a few bites in, he has to admit that the neighbour absolutely knows a thing or two. "Do you think she'd teach me this?" he wonders. "Maybe I won't fight her, maybe I should try and get her to adopt me."

Joe is thinking about it too, thinking about how nice it will be to draw and paint with Nicky sitting at the desk by the window, looking soft and golden in the sunlight. He snorts at the request, arching his eyebrows playfully. "I'll crank the heat up, then," he agrees. He half thinks Nicky is joking, though Nicky's tone is serious enough. "Just ask me to flex whenever you'd like to be inspired," he adds, clearly pretending to boast, waggling his eyebrows.

Sipping from his wine, Joe considers the idea. "Well, I'm sure you can charm her into it. Her grandson never visits her, she could use the two of us to help her." He grins, brightly. "I'll introduce you tomorrow, if you'd like."

Nicky nods, because he does want it. He wouldn't have said it if he didn't, even if his interest is far more of the artistic muse sort than the sexual, though he's sure that he'll be able to mulit-task when it comes time.

"Flex, or maybe pick something heavy up so I know what you look like with someone thrown over your shoulder," he muses, as he eats.

He follows suit with Joe, sipping his wine, grinning as he thinks about meeting the neighbours. "And will I be introduced as your boyfriend?"

Nicky's serious nod makes Joe snort, though he will take his shirt off if asked. He's not shy and he likes the soft, stunned way Nicky looks at him when he's shirtless. "I could do that," Joe agrees, easily. He arches an eyebrow. "Pick you up, if you'd like." He could take it, he's lifted heavier weights than Nicky at the gym.

Joe smiles to Nicky softly, his eyes warm. "Yeah. What else would I introduce you as?"

"Of course that's what I want, but I just want to hear it again," he admits, with a pleased as punch smirk on his face, knowing that he'd managed to get Joe to say exactly what Nicky had been searching for.

"If you pick me up, then I could write very realistically how it felt," he says between bites of delicious food. "I could describe your muscles with stunning accuracy. You'll have to make sure to capture that, in the commission for the cover."

"You can hear it whenever you like, tesoro," Joe replies, amused. He's happy to claim Nicky as his partner, and will gladly tell everyone that. He doesn't think his neighbor will have a problem with it; at any rate, she'll be too busy pinching Nicky's cheeks and asking him for secret Italian recipes.

"That won't be a problem," Joe teases in return. "I think we've established that I'm very good at painting myself with great narcissistic accuracy." He arches his eyebrows, considering that. "Of course. And for further book research, where should I take you, once I have you over my shoulder?" he asks, playfully.

"Then I'll come to your next show and bask in being the artist's boyfriend," he says, which is a warning and a boast at once. He's never really been anyone's, so the pride of having a man like Joe want him like this is intoxicating and perfection.

He cannot wait to flaunt it in people's faces.

"Well, I would have to be put down to write about it," Nicky admits, clucking his tongue in disappointment. "So any fantasies of carrying me and throwing me down on the bed would have to wait."

"If you'd like," Joe answers, chuckling. "I feel like a lot of artists are terrified of you, so introducing you as my boyfriend will be interesting," he teases, gently. Joe himself in still somewhat in awe that he managed to seduce Nicky at all, so he can imagine the incredulous looks he's going to get at an art exhibit. He likes the idea a lot.

"You could write it down afterwards," Joe helpfully suggests, grinning wider. "I know you have a pretty good memory."

Nicky raises his brow, as if he has no idea at all why anyone would be scared of him. Really. What could it possibly be? (He knows, very well, and he enjoys being an ominous and shadowy figure that has other artists scared)

"Or they'll flock to you to find out the secret of taming me," Nicky points out, smirking as he thinks about that. "What will you tell them to try, amore? Just so I can be prepared."

Nicky finishes with his food, but he still has wine to sip and enjoy. "Well, it is an okay memory, but I would hate to lose the passion of the moment."

No idea at all, uh? Joe isn't buying that.

"I don't think I've tamed you at all," Joe points out in return, leaning back in his chair to sip his wine and consider Nicky with a grin. He shakes his head, tapping his finger against the table. "I will tell them to try nothing, they can't have you," he answers, quite serious about it. He's not actually a very jealous man and he wouldn't cause a scene if someone tried to flirt with Nicky, but he would dislike it very much.

"Ah, that's too bad," he pretends to sigh, amused. "Yet another fantasy sacrificed to your art."

Nicky can't help his smirk at the taming comment, but it grows into a true smile when Joe mentioned that he's going to keep his secrets close to his vest. "Good," he insists, sipping his wine, "I'm not really into stringing along multiple boyfriends at once," is his cool tease, leaning over to kiss Joe, lips still brushed with wine.

He licks his lips as he eases back, biting his lower one thoughtfully. "I suppose once I wrote the chapter, you could always pick me up then, since it would all be written down."