Preview Fic
Title: Ars gratia artis
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 203 (So close!)
Disclaimer: Neither the characters of Peter and Claude nor piece of ancient Greek art I am referencing (if only in my head) belong to me.
Author's Note: A little scene from a longer AU story I'm writing, where Claude is a painter, Peter is a nurse, and a relationship blossoms, as it will. I'm trying not to start posting until it's entirely done. Except for this, which is like a preview. Me, in need of constant validation? Lies!
Summary: Peter is awakened from a nap in a non-traditional way.
For englishmuffin2. She (hopefully) knows why.
He wakes up slowly, his own hand against his bare stomach, the soft warmth of the afternoon sun all along his body.
His naked body, he realizes, his entirely naked body, but…well, he’s warm and comfortable and nowhere he hasn’t been entirely naked before, so he just yawns.
And there’s a vaguely annoyed snort at the fact, the quick scrape of pencil across paper, and he licks his lips.
“Claude?” he only barely opens his eyes, and can only really see the outline of the familiar body sitting comfortably at the table, more still and at ease than he thinks he’s ever seen him sit before.
“Yeah, Pete?” and he sounds distracted, doesn’t look up, and the whisper of graphite over paper continues.
“What are you…” he yawns again, and sees the shape of Claude’s head go up, can almost feel those mid-afternoon, grey-blue eyes on him. “Are you drawing me?”
“Are you keepin’ still?” low and quietly amused.
“What?” he mumbles, squirming into a more comfortable position, arm beneath his head, one leg crossed under the other, and sighs.
The sound of a page being turned and Claude chuckles a soft, “Back to sleep, Pete.”
Peter yawns once more, and gladly obeys.
*
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 203 (So close!)
Disclaimer: Neither the characters of Peter and Claude nor piece of ancient Greek art I am referencing (if only in my head) belong to me.
Author's Note: A little scene from a longer AU story I'm writing, where Claude is a painter, Peter is a nurse, and a relationship blossoms, as it will. I'm trying not to start posting until it's entirely done. Except for this, which is like a preview. Me, in need of constant validation? Lies!
Summary: Peter is awakened from a nap in a non-traditional way.
For englishmuffin2. She (hopefully) knows why.
He wakes up slowly, his own hand against his bare stomach, the soft warmth of the afternoon sun all along his body.
His naked body, he realizes, his entirely naked body, but…well, he’s warm and comfortable and nowhere he hasn’t been entirely naked before, so he just yawns.
And there’s a vaguely annoyed snort at the fact, the quick scrape of pencil across paper, and he licks his lips.
“Claude?” he only barely opens his eyes, and can only really see the outline of the familiar body sitting comfortably at the table, more still and at ease than he thinks he’s ever seen him sit before.
“Yeah, Pete?” and he sounds distracted, doesn’t look up, and the whisper of graphite over paper continues.
“What are you…” he yawns again, and sees the shape of Claude’s head go up, can almost feel those mid-afternoon, grey-blue eyes on him. “Are you drawing me?”
“Are you keepin’ still?” low and quietly amused.
“What?” he mumbles, squirming into a more comfortable position, arm beneath his head, one leg crossed under the other, and sighs.
The sound of a page being turned and Claude chuckles a soft, “Back to sleep, Pete.”
Peter yawns once more, and gladly obeys.
*