House Party [AU][M]

"Real jobs," Fleck snorted.

It bugged him more than he'd outwardly admit that people didn't think art was a real job, yet praised ancient artists for their accomplishments in the next breath.

'YOU can't be an artist, but Da Vinci? Rembrant? Michelangelo?

"What do you paint with?"

"Watercolour and gouache mostly. Sometimes acrylics, but I never seem to gel with them. Oils..." He shrugged. "I've tried them out a few times and love them, but I don't have the money to use them all the time. For paint brushes, paper and stuff like that, I have to admit, I can be a bit of a snob." He laughed. "Probably why I can't afford oils."

He took a sip to stop himself blabbering, smiling behind the glass.

"What about yourself?"

"You like experimenting, huh?"

Fleck sipped his brandy again, and gestured with a jerk of his skin to the bookcase of sketchbooks beside them.

"Acrylic, mostly, but when I'm painting en-plein-air, I tend to use watercolours. They're not my favourite, but they're more convenient than acrylic when I'm out."

"Don't worry, I know what I like."

He hoped, wherever Sacha, would be proud of him and his attempts at flirting.

His rose stood up to look at the bookcase stacked with sketchbooks. He ran a finger across the spines.

"Can I see?"

Fleck's lips curled upwards and his hooded eyes regarded Dick for a long, burning moment.

"That's good to know."

The smoulder was gone again in a flash. "Yeah, sure. Help yourself."

There were plenty of sketchbooks there. Most were almost falling apart.

Dick placed his glass down to flick through them easily. Red wine spilt on a black shirt won't matter but on someone's sketchbook... That may be a different story. He knew if someone did that to his sketchbook he would through a bitch fit- he had thrown a bitch fit.

Dick let out a low whistle.

"I'm surprised these are still holding together."

Dick flicked through them leisurely. At one point he held up a page briefly; a painting of a Great Dane.

"This is my favourite so far."

He had a quick scan of a couple more, putting each one back where he found it until he was holding only one, looking over all its bumps, scratches and indents.

"What do you do with these? Use them as a dinner plate?"

"Black magic. Sold my soul for the power of keeping my sketchbooks from falling apart."

They were treated terribly, and somehow he'd never had one fall apart on him. It had to be magic and no one could convince him otherwise.

"That's Duke, one of my dogs."

Fleck scratched at the back of his head sheepishly, catching his hairband on one swipe and loosening his bun just enough to annoy himself. "Uh yeah, actually. Sometimes," he answered as he pulled his hair free and let the dark locks settle around his shoulders.

Dick patted the sketchbook mournfully.

"You're in a better place."

He put it back on the self and glanced Fleck's way. Big mistake. There was no way he could look away.

Shirtless. Hair down. That should be illegal.

"So..." Fuck, what was he was he going to say again? "So... You work out?" Definitely not that, but it was a burning question on his mind.

Fleck snorted a laugh.

He supposed it was. At leas the didn't use the old sketchbooks as placemats. Though his current sketchbook was relatively new. Very little in the way of damage yet.

"Uh, yeah." He drained the last of his brandy and set his empty glass aside. Unconsciously he leaned a little towards Dick now he didn't have anything to hide behind. "Every now and again."

Dick nodded.

"Cool."

He drained his own glass and wondered if he was going to choke on it again as punishment from turning a perfectly good conversation awkward.

"I mean I do yoga myself," he continued, in an attempt to salvage it, "but I don't know if you can tell, I'm not much of a weight and cardio guy."

"No, Yoga's... good." His voice had dropped, gotten a little husky.

His mind had wandered when Dick mentioned yoga. He couldn't help himself.

His dark eyes flickered over Dick quickly.

"Yoga's good," he muttered quietly.

Shit, smooth.

"That's good."

Despite how lacking the conversation was going, judging by the gaze, it going quite great.

He fidgeted on the spot and took another sip from his drink. Time to make not only Sacha proud but Giacinto too.

He took a couple of steps over to Fleck.

"Maybe try it with me sometime?"

Fleck's tongue ran over his lip at the offer.

"Now?" he rasped, pushing off the seat and closing the ever-shortening gap between them.

Despite how forward he was being, his lips were pretty gentle against Dick's.

Dick could he his own heartbeat slamming in his head as there was a lifting sensation in his chest.

He let out a shaky breath when they parted. Blue eyes flicked down to Fleck's lips. He licked his own.

"Maybe get warmed up first?"

What horrible novel did he grab that from? He hoped Fleck's would think he was being smooth.

"Good idea," he murmured in reply.

He pressed into another kiss, slow and deep, with the intention of warming them both up slowly.

One hand gripped the back of the couch, while the other found Dick's hip, fisting in the fabric of his shirt and pulling it upwards slightly.

Dick sat on the couch to kiss Sleck more comfortably. His hand ran up his bicep and shoulders so he could comb his fingers through the long hair. He tugged him closer. Eager to keep the deep kissing steady.

A leg slotted between Fleck's.

His grip on Dick's shirt tightened, tugging it up further before slipping under the hem to stroke at the warm skin there.

He hummed in pleasure thumb stroking a slow, firm line along his hipbone, leading down towards the waistband of his pants.

Dick's hips lifted and rolled. 

He pulled back for just a moment, looking over Fleck's gorgeous face again.

"Fuck."

He knew that whatever was going to transpire between them was going to ruin him.

Fleck grinned in response to the curse, both hands turning to the closure of Dick's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them slowly.

His lips found Dick's neck, kissing down his pale throat as his hand slipped under the now-loose clothes and into his underwear to stroke his cock to life.

Dick's head tilted back with a sigh as his neck was kissed. The stubble scratching at his skin felt nice and made his body shudder. There was a reason why he liked stubble and beards so much.

Then he cursed as his cock was stroked and his hips snapped up to meet Fleck's hand.

"You can leave a couple marks, I don't mind."

"Yeah?" he breathed against Dick's throat.

Then he took to making a nice red mark on his throat.

His fingers never paused in their stroking, and his other hand took to tugging at Dick's pants to pull them own further.

Dick cock's twitched in Fleck's hand and he hissed appreciatively as Fleck made his mark. Every nerve felt alight and he couldn't keep still.

Lifting his hips, he let Fleck remove pants. He awkwardly tried to kick them off until he was free of them. He heard something clatter against the floor. Probably his phone.

He pushed Fleck away and to the side.

"Lay down."

Fleck moved obediently when he pushed to the side.

"Thank fuck," he breathed, moving to lay on the couch without a fight.

Fleck wasn't a very dominant person, and he was glad that Dick seemed to be picking up his slack int hat department. More than once he'd been put at a stalemate when he realised that his partner was just as submissive as he tended to be.

Dick raised an eyebrow at Fleck's little outburst of relief.

Hoovering above him, he kissed Fleck's hipbone. Then just under his navel where short, coarse hairs tickled his lips. Above his navel. The centre of his chest. His Adam's apple. Almost, his mouth. Dick hovered over him, then grinned as he pulled back before Fleck could close the short space.

Stradling a thigh, and knee pressed to Fleck's groin, he began to unbutton his shirt. His breathing was still short and shaky. A mix of nerves and excitement.

He hoped to God Fleck wouldn't notice this was his first party hook up.

Fleck's shoulders raised in sheepish silent apology when Dick raised an eyebrow at him.

It was difficult finding guys he found hot that were dominant, okay? He tended to like smaller more pretty looking men, and they tended to be submissive This was a win for him. Let him be excited about it.

Fleck leaned into the near kiss, then slumped back when Dick pulled away.

His hips rolled shamelessly when Dick's leg pressed between his thighs, grinding against it.