remy.

“Gotta love the american schooling system. It’s honestly beyond me why our parents wanted Sebastian to go to Dalton. That alone was three times the price.rather than Paris.” Remy remarked slightly with a little teasing smile on his face.  “Pretty much, you pay them a lot and they tell you about…people who don’t inspire you. Or how something should be done according to  a text book. It’s not exactly the ideal way, now is it? Even more so when it comes to art.” Remy said with a little shrug again as he dropped back against the table. Remy watched that pillow tumble to the ground as he stepped forward, a smirk dancing along his lips as the other seemed to flush and stammer at the very idea of what he was proposing.  “Oh trust me…” Remy hummed as he openly ran his eyes up and down the other. “You can inspire quite a lot of things…” How was it Remy managed to make that sound so dirty?  Remy’s hand even reached out to brush though those wet locks as the other pointed them out, letting them drop though his fingers as his hand moved away. “I think it’ll be…wild and raw. Very…open.  Both raw in a sexual sense and in a open, personality sense if you lose that shirt.’ H e teased with a little wink as his hand cupped Blaine’s neck. “You can seriously say no. If you’re that uncomfortable.  I paint boys naked all the time…it’s sort of a hobby. I’ll be totally professional. Pinky promise.” 

Not the ideal way.  But–as much as any theater performer or artist will tell you that they have no idea what they’re teaching you in an arts school?  They’ll promptly tell you how important it is to finish.  Except a few handfuls that got lucky along the way. Blaine figured he was stuck listening to them if he wanted to BE SOMEONE.  And he did.  All that was on the tip of his tongue.  A means of changing the subject back to school should Remy give him an out or realize how mistaken he was in thinking he–of all people–was model material.  Didn’t seem like any of that would be necessary.  Not with the way Remy was looking at him.  Blaine felt his stomach grow warm and fill with butterfly wings to beat at the insides. Dangerous.  When did a crash and a nap at Sebastian’s suddenly become dangerous?  Oh. When his brother made an appearance. That’s when.  Hazel eyes read back and forth over Remy’s expression as the pink haired artist stepped towards him.  Blaine was holding his breath as fingers stroked through his hair–an upward turn of his gaze let him focus on Remy’s wrist. But this entire idea was intriguing in the ways it shouldn’t be.  Especially if Sebastian found out. Remy’s twin’s attraction and somewhat possessive nature towards him and their friendship wasn’t unknown to anyone who knew Sebastian Smythe.  But he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to have someone look at him the exact way that Remy was looking at him now. Let alone?  Put it on canvas.  “Well… Is there some sort of never been painted naked before curve?  Like..I don’t know?  Start shirtless?  I mean..I don’t want to say no.  It’s just–I have no idea what it is,” he scoffed at himself, “strange because I never thought–um. Wow.  Words just got really hard.”