Work Text:
“So what happens if your figure drawing model is hot?”
“Nothing, Ryuu, don’t be an idiot. That would be weird. I’m not gonna make it weird,” Yuu says, taking another sip of his latte. “Besides, I feel like that really only happens in romance novels and stuff, y’know? Not exactly the world’s most realistic meet-cute or anything. I mean, I’m sure the class I modeled for that one time would disagree, but…”
“Of course they would, dude, you’re smokin’. But I see what you’re saying. Exception, not the rule, right?”
“Exactly. Also, it kind of sucks. It’s not cute for the model, anyways, because you have to sit still for ages and it hurts, plus you’re freezing your ass off half the time as well.”
Ryuu considers this for a moment and nods in understanding. “I can see how losing your ass would be inconvenient.”
“See? You get it.”
With that, Ryuu glances at his watch and, realizing his break is just about over, stands up from their table to head back into the café. “Well, best of luck with that whole situation, but I gotta go. See you after your classes are out?”
“Duh,” Yuu says, holding his fist out for a bump. “Also, when are you finally gonna start doing latte art? I’m a broke art student, I can’t afford to keep buying coffee that isn’t cute.”
Ryuu just laughs and flips him off as he walks through the café door. Finally draining the last of his drink, Yuu realizes he’s about to be late himself, so he grabs his bag and hightails it across campus for the studio.
By the time he gets there, class is just about to get underway, so he’s more focused on getting his supplies set up than he is on the other people in the room. This is probably why he fails to notice the model until the professor clears her throat to introduce them. “Everyone, this is Azumane Asahi, and he’ll be working with one of us as one of our models this semester.”
Yuu looks up to say a quick hello along with everyone else, but the words stick in his throat once he catches sight of the man giving a slightly sheepish wave to the class. Because hot damn, he is fine. And that’s with his clothes still on.
Right. Not making it weird. You’re a professional. Well, a student, but still.
“Um, hi,” the man—Asahi—says, and oh God his voice is beautiful too, deep and mellow and soothing. “I’m glad I could be of assistance, and I’m looking forward to working with you all… as much as you can look forward to being naked in front of a room full of strangers, I guess?”
That draws laughter from the assembled students, more than one of whom Yuu has seen model themselves, so at least some of them understand. Introduction made, Asahi heads behind the screen in the corner of the studio to change into the provided robe, and Yuu does his absolute utmost to get his brain into Art Mode and not Think-About-Hot-People Mode.
His efforts are nearly ruined when Asahi steps onto the slightly-raised platform in the center of the room and carefully removes his robe, because unfortunately for Yuu, Asahi has the physique of a god. His long hair is up in a bun, giving Yuu a perfect view of his broad, sculpted shoulders and upper back, and holy mother of God, the man is ripped. Probably an athlete, Yuu thinks; as someone who played volleyball seriously in high school and continues to do so recreationally, he knows a fellow athlete when he sees one. Whether he plays a sport or not, Asahi clearly stays in shape, as evidenced by the curve of muscle in his thighs, the faint outline of abs, and the sheer mass of his biceps. Yuu allows himself exactly one more moment of this line of thinking before mentally slapping himself to get back into Art Mode, focusing on nothing but the task in front of him; he is, after all, actually here to learn.
As he packs up his things at the end of class, Yuu catches sight of a reclothed Asahi talking to the professor, and only realizes he’s staring a little when Asahi meets his eyes and gives him a soft half-smile. Oh, God, I’m going to die, Yuu thinks as he melts a little, and manages to grin back before booking it out of the studio and pulling his phone out of his pocket to text Ryuu.
YA BOY
fuck.
LOL
Ryuu grills him later that evening over a shitty movie at his apartment.
“So.”
Yuu buries his face in his hands with a groan. “He’s so hot, dude, I can’t do this.”
“You said you weren’t going to make it weird.”
“I know! And I’m not! I’ll just suffer in silence like the miserable little man I am.”
“Ah, the eternal bisexual struggle,” Ryuu commiserates. “It could be worse. You know, you could just talk to him like a normal person.”
“Absolutely not. I would die on the spot. I will pass away and depart to the afterlife.”
“To hell, you mean.”
“Yes. To hell. So you see why I can’t do that.”
“Nah, bro, I still think you can,” Ryuu says. “But if you’re not gonna do it, I’m not gonna push you. I’ll just bully you about it forever.”
“Rightfully so,” Yuu mutters, and lets the conversation end there, putting it out of his mind and trying to focus on the movie.
He almost succeeds.
The next time Asahi models for their class, they’ve started to take longer sessions, which means a short break in the middle to let people get snacks and keep the model from dying completely. Like many models, Asahi is the type to study people’s sketches in the brief pause, a mug of tea in his hand as he slowly makes his way around the room.
Yuu, for his part, hasn’t moved from his seat, still adding tiny details to his drawing to make sure he’s getting everything just right. As a result of his concentration, he doesn’t notice Asahi’s presence beside him until a low voice says, “Wow, you’re really good,” and Yuu just about jumps out of his skin before turning to face him.
“I, um. Thank you! You’re a good model.” Oh, fuck, why did I say that.
Asahi laughs at that. “Well, I’m new to this, so thanks. It’s kind of outside my comfort zone, actually. I wasn’t sure how it would go. Although I don’t really know what constitutes a good model… Is this something you can even be bad at?”
“Oh, definitely,” Yuu says, relaxing into his usual conversational flow after getting over his initial panic. “I modeled for a figure drawing class once and I was way too fidgety. You’re like a statue, it’s perfect. You must have a lot of patience to be doing this.”
“You’ve done this too?” Asahi asks, a note of surprise in his voice.
“Yeah. I thought it would be good practice to put myself in the model’s shoes, y’know? Understand what it feels like before I have to be the artist.”
“And how was it?”
“Fucking cold.”
That gets another laugh out of Asahi, and Yuu thinks, I could listen to that all day.
Soon enough, the break is over, and they get back to class, Yuu’s mind still a little warm and fuzzy from their conversation. This time, when they wrap up, he gets a wave from Asahi on his way out, and it feels like a strange kind of victory.
They fall into a kind of pattern over the next few weeks, with Asahi coming by to compliment his work and trade questions back and forth about art or, occasionally, their lives. Yuu learns that Asahi is a student at a local fashion college, and that he is, in fact, an athlete, having played volleyball in high school as well (“No way, me too! We should totally play sometime,” he says before he can think about what exactly it is he’s saying, but before he can panic about it fully, Asahi responds with a soft smile, “Yeah, I’d like that.”)
“So what made you decide to do this?” Yuu asks one day during the mid-class break.
“Besides the money?”
“Besides that.”
“Well,” Asahi says, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself, “I actually… had a very hard time with anxiety in high school, and I’m still kind of dealing with it, which probably shows.” He chuckles weakly at that, softening the statement, before continuing. “But I started going to therapy in college, which has helped a lot, and… I don’t know. I try to push myself more, doing things outside of my comfort zone. As for why figure modeling in particular… I do have to think about the human body quite a lot as a fashion student, obviously, so I went to a couple of non-university classes like this one to help with my visualization process, and I think that helped me get over some mental barriers that I had, for lack of a better term.”
Asahi hesitates for a moment, pausing to consider his next words. “And I’m trying to become less self-conscious, I guess? This is obviously a bit of an anxiety-inducing job, but I think it’s nice, in a way. To get to see myself as art.” His face is already a little pink, and when Yuu doesn’t respond right away, he flushes a deeper shade of red. “Um, but you didn’t really need to know all that, I guess,” hedging his statement again. “It’s not something I talk about a lot—”
“No,” Yuu interrupts, “no, it’s okay. I think that’s really brave of you, actually. Shit, that sounds really patronizing,” but Asahi just laughs, the embarrassment seeming to leave his form. “It just takes a lot of willpower to do something like this, y’know, so… I think it’s really cool that you chose to do that,” he continues with a noncommittal shrug. “I’ll tell you this, I was afraid of pretty much everything as a kid, until my grandpa told me that it was a waste of an opportunity. From then on, I decided to just kind of throw myself at things instead. But that doesn’t mean I’m, like, immune to fear. Putting in that effort is hard, so. Yeah.” He realizes he’s rambling, and now it’s his turn to blush, worried he’s made the conversation awkward.
But he can’t see any discomfort in Asahi’s face; rather, he seems relieved, and happy, almost, with nearly all of his earlier tension gone. “I… appreciate you sharing that, Noya. It’s—”
“Call me Yuu,” he interrupts again without thinking.
“I— oh, okay. Well, I’m really glad you listened to me ramble about that, Yuu,” and the way Asahi says his name is so gentle, like he’s trying not to break something fragile in the air between them. “Ah, I think our break is ending. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” he offers with a soft smile.
“Yeah,” Yuu says, and not for the first time, he thinks he really might have a crush on this impossibly beautiful man.
Asahi catches up with him after class has ended, and before Yuu can say anything about their earlier conversation, he says, “So. Um. About getting out of my comfort zone.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you— that is, do you— ah, fuck,” and the swearing catches Yuu a little off guard. “Would you want to get coffee or something sometime? I mean, it’s totally okay if not, I just—”
“Azumane Asahi,” Yuu says slowly, “are you asking me on a date?”
Asahi’s face flushes pink. “Um. Yes. I mean, do you want me to be?”
“Absolutely I do,” Yuu replies, and he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, grinning from ear to ear as all his anxiety melts away. With that confidence restored, he takes Asahi’s hand in his, saying, “C’mon, I know this really good place nearby, you’re gonna love it.”
He brings Asahi with him out of the studio and out into the sunlight, and Yuu wonders why he was ever afraid.