“Could you take your shirt off please?”

Vince blinked and turned around, not sure he’d just heard Koby right. He’d been looking around the now empty art workroom while Koby had been sorting himself out. It was after five o’clock, so the other students had left, as had Cecily. She had made a coffee for Vince after he’d finished his iced tea, then left him and Koby alone.

Vince had a strange sort of mild tingle in his belly at being alone with Koby. Like he was worried he was going to say the wrong thing. But until now, Koby had been pretty quiet.

Initially, they had carefully taken out the components Koby had so far to make his statue – or sculpture as he kept calling it. Then Koby had engrossed himself in laying it all out, so Vince had occupied himself by looking at some of the faded, slightly ragged artwork on the wall. A lot of the pieces were signed with dates from twenty years ago.

At the moment, Koby’s sculpture honestly just looked like a lot of metal circles and twisted strips all layered over one and other. But the more pieces Koby unwrapped the individual components, the more Vince could see it was going to be a person. One-and-a-half times life size, apparently. Vince couldn’t say he knew what that was going to look like when it was done, but Koby’s eyes lit up when he described it. His enthusiasm gave Vince confidence.

Or at least, it had.

“My…shirt?” he repeated.

He was still cradling the coffee cup Miss Salt had given him before she and the other students had left, although the coffee was long gone. Koby apparently drank breakfast tea with almond milk, so he hadn’t had one. Now, it felt a bit like the mug was a barrier between…what? Vince and Koby?

Why was he afraid of Koby?

He wasn’t. Vince got naked in the locker rooms all the time. At least, he had for the past several years. He was immune to getting his junk out, so long as the other dudes didn’t stare. That just made it weird. Koby wasn’t going to get weird with him, Vince was sure.

It wasn’t that Koby was gay either – or was it bi if you liked girls as well? In any case, Vince didn’t care about that. He probably should have, but he didn’t feel like Koby was hitting on him, so it was fine. At least…he didn’t think Koby was hitting on him.

Why did he want Vince to take his shirt off?

Koby gave him a wry smile. He had grabbed one of the easels while Vince had been looking around and set himself up with some paper and a pencil. The parts of his sculpture were strewn around him on the desks.

“I’d like to do some quick sketches.” Koby twirled his pencil between long, pale fingers. For a Texan, this guy didn’t look like he spent much time in the sunshine. “That way I can see how your body moves, how the muscles interact.”

Vince frowned and glanced at the bits of metal. He was still holding his coffee cup protectively. “And you need to know that to make the sculpture?”

Koby smiled like Vince amused him. He didn’t look like anyone else Vince knew. Although he was pale, he had thick black hair with bangs that fell across his forehead to the left in a swoosh. His pale blue eyes looked brighter because of the black liner he had around them. His nails were painted black, too.

He was wearing a sort of knee-length black skirt that Vince had overheard him telling that kid Zane was called a kilt, like Scottish men wore. He also said it was fake-leather because he was a vegan. The thing had many buckles, a couple of pocket pouches and what looked like a utility belt around the top.

Vince felt like skirts were supposed to be ‘girly.’ But this kilt looked kind of badass on Koby. It helped he’d paired it with mean-looking black Dr. Martens boots, a white short-sleeved button-down, a black tie and black fake-leather cuffs on his wrists. If someone had described the outfit to Vince, he’d have said it sounded kind of dumb. But honestly, he thought Koby looked pretty damn cool.

The way Koby was smiling at Vince made Vince feel like he thought he’d said something funny. He hoped Koby wasn’t laughing at him. Sure, Vince didn’t know much about nothing that wasn’t football. But he hoped he hadn’t embarrassed himself.

“Why don’t you come over here?” Koby said. He settled himself down behind the easel and pointed to the paper. So Vince walked over to stand beside him, holding his coffee cup to his belly. The paper was blank. “I make my sculptures like I draw. See? I start with a frame. Then I build up.”

Vince felt his eyebrows rise as he watched Koby’s hand fly over the page. Every line he added seemed like he did it carelessly, with just a flick of the wrist. But it soon became clear he knew exactly what he was doing. He started with a stick figure that he added ovals and triangles and circles over the top of. It was like Vince blinked and suddenly there was a guy running on the page, with clothes and everything.

“How’d you do that?” Vince spluttered. “You weren’t copying anything or nothing? Y’all just pulled that out of your brain?”

Koby chuckled and looked up at Vince, smiling again. He had kind of full lips for a guy. Huh. That was a strange thing for Vince to notice. He put it down to the fact that he found Koby’s whole aesthetic interesting.

“I’ve had a bit of practice.” Koby winked. “So, I do the same with my sculptures. I start with the bones. Then I build up. That’s where I am now with your piece. I need to add the final layer of muscle.”

Vince cocked an eyebrow and looked down at Koby. “I’m…” he began. Then he decided to rephrase. “This statue of me is going to be naked?”

Koby barked out a laugh. “Not exactly. I’d call it more…raw. I won’t be depicting clothes, per se, but you’re not going to have your junk swinging around for everyone to see. I just want to make sure I get the power of your body across in the composition. That way, when people look at it, they’ll feel your strength.”

Vince looked at him for a second. Then he realized his jaw was slightly hanging open. He snapped it shut and placed the mug down on the desk next to him before dropping onto the tall stool beside Koby. “You can do all that?”

Koby shrugged and looked back at his drawing. “I hope so. You can help me, if you don’t mind?”

“By taking my shirt off?”

“And your pants.” Koby nodded and discarded the paper he’d just drawn on. “I’ll ask you to hold a few poses so I can make some sketches. It shouldn’t take more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”

Panic threatened to rise in Vince’s throat. Be cool! he told himself. There was nothing to freak out over. He knew he had a good body and Koby was just doing his job. Vince had done photo shoots in his underwear before, after all. This was no different.

“Sure.” Vince cleared his throat as he stood up. He nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt. “No problem, you know. It makes sense since you explained it, so, uh, thanks…for that.”

He cleared his throat again and rubbed his hands together. Then he undid the rest of the buttons and slipped his shirt off, folding it and placing it on one of the stools that looked reasonably clean. Next, he toed his good shoes off – Nonna had shined them this morning for him – and unzipped his pants.

He glanced at Koby, but he was already sketching again, absorbed in his work. So Vince didn’t feel too exposed as he pulled his pants down and removed his socks, folding them with his shirt on the stool.

Christ, when was the last time he actually got undressed in front of just one person, not his team? Had he had any hookups since he and Debbie split last year? It was kind of depressing that he couldn’t even remember for a minute. But Vince wasn’t really one for hookups and dating was hard when he was training and traveling so much. It wasn’t like he’d been living like a monk or anything. But he had more of an intimate relationship with his right hand than he did another human being at the moment, that was for sure.

He stood awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of his junk tucked into his briefs. They were pretty tight. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Ah, good.” Koby glanced up from his page. “That’s fine. Just let your hands hang down naturally. Loosen up your shoulders a bit. Great.”

Vince tried to do as he was told, but he felt anything but natural. He shook out his hands and jumped a couple of times on the spot, then let his arms hang down.

“I feel like a big ape,” he mumbled. His cheeks got slightly hot.

But Koby shook his head, already sketching again. “You look magnificent. You have a beautiful body.”

There was nothing shy about him as he casually complimented Vince. Like he was talking about the weather. The heat remained in Vince’s cheeks. It was kind of nice for someone to be that confident. As if it was simply a truth that Vince was hot.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, sorry.” He dropped his hand back down to where it was.

Koby beamed at him and shook his head. “You don’t have to stay perfectly still. I’m getting a general impression with a few different sketches. Actually, can you strike a different pose for me now? Whatever feels comfortable.”

Vince automatically crossed his arms and widened the stance of his feet a little. Koby chuckled but he didn’t tell Vince he was wrong. He just kept drawing.

“And again.” Then he looked up. “Another pose,” he said when Vince didn’t move.

“Oh.” Vince frowned. He tried putting his hands on his hips but he felt like a dork. So he dropped his arms again, shuffling on his feet. “I, uh…I’m not sure.”

Koby’s expression was kind as he looked over the easel. “How about you turn to the back, then look at me over your shoulder, your arms down and relaxed.” Vince did as he was told. That’s it. Wonderful.” Then a few minutes later… “Now, perch on that stool for a bit, one foot on the lower rung. That’s it. And look out the window.”

It was funny, but Vince found something soothing about letting Koby boss him around. It was nice to feel like he was doing what Koby was asking of him right. So of course, the next instruction he couldn’t follow at all.

“As if you’re about to throw a shot put. Like at the Olympics,” Koby explained. But Vince couldn’t remember what that was. All he could think off was miming throwing a bowling ball. Koby laughed. It was a rich sound that seemed to fill Vince’s chest. “Okay, hold that for a sec. I might as well get that down, too. All right, the shot put is one hand by your neck, the other stretched out…”

Vince tried but he couldn’t work out what Koby was talking about. “Sorry,” he huffed.

But Koby shook his head and stepped out from behind his easel. “Don’t worry. This is what I mean.”

He struck a pose that looked a little like Usain Bolt’s victory pose or the quarterback throwing the ball, so Vince tried to copy him. But he still obviously wasn’t quite getting it.

Koby smiled warmly and dropped his version of the pose, stepping closer to Vince. “Do you mind if I touch you? I can put you in the position I’d like. Sorry to be a stickler, but this one’s great for outlining some of the key muscle groups. After this, I can just have you doing whatever again.”

“Oh, sure,” Vince said.

This was only weird if he made it. It was no different than a sports massage. Koby wasn’t even a girl, so Vince had nothing to worry about, and he obviously wasn’t doing anything creepy. He just placed his hands on Vince’s arms and moved them slightly. His palms felt warm against Vince’s skin. Then he lightly touched Vince’s hips, twisting them, before pressing his fingers on the inside of his thigh to get him to bend his leg a little more.

Of course when his face was vaguely near his crotch area, Vince’s cock decided it wanted to wake up.

“Oh! Hey, um, shit!” Vince cried.

For a few seconds, he wrestled between staying in the position Koby had put him in and protecting his modesty. But the damn thing was getting harder the more embarrassed Vince got, like it enjoyed torturing him. Vince gave up and clapped his hands over his lengthening cock in his underwear.

“I’m not gay!” he blurted. “Not that…I mean…I’m sorry.”

Koby stood up again and shook his head. “Don’t even worry about it. That’s perfectly natural. Actually, it makes it even better, as far as I’m concerned. I wanted you full of life. It makes you look robust.”

“You…want to draw my hard on?” Vince asked, mortified and feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

“Only if you don’t mind?” Again, Koby sounded like he was discussing the clouds in the sky. “It’s just for my reference. No one else will see. I can give them to you afterward or destroy them.”

Vince hated the idea of art being destroyed. And if this helped Koby out, he could suffer through it for a bit. Besides, hopefully the damn erection would calm down and go away if he ignored it.

“I don’t mind,” he mumbled, attempting to get back in the correct position. “Like that?”

Koby altered his arms slightly, then nodded. “Perfect,” he said.

Vince stared at a box of chalk on the shelf, trying not to think too much about the fact a guy he didn’t really know was looking at him with a boner, let alone studying it, capturing it on paper.

“So, uh, you’re a real-life successful artist, right?” He kept his eyes firmly on the chalk. “I bet the school has loads of your stuff around, huh?”

Koby scoffed. “Not really. I fought to have my final project out in the courtyard for a few weeks before I graduated. But then some asshole graffitied over it with spray cans and broke some of the extremities off.” He shrugged. “I didn’t bother trying to get anything else displayed when it clearly wasn’t wanted.”

That succeeded in wilting Vince’s cock more than his embarrassment had. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. What kind of jackass does something like that to someone else’s hard work?”

Koby smiled, but it had a tinge of sadness to it.

Vince realized at some point he had stopped looking at the chalk.

“I don’t care,” Koby said firmly. “Someone who’s probably never created anything in their whole life. I feel sorry for them, but I also forgot about them.” He winked at Vince. “I’ve made thousands of works since. One thoughtless bit of vandalism isn’t going to slow me down. Okay, all done.”

Vince blinked. “Oh, right. You mean…”

“You can put your clothes back on now.” Koby was slipping his sheets of paper into a large, clear wallet thing. Then he set about putting the easel away.

Vince hurried to shove his feet back in his pants. Normally, he’d put his socks on first. But he wanted to get his ass away as soon as possible.

Not that Koby was making him feel uncomfortable, just…Vince wasn’t sure. Being naked in front of Koby was difficult. His insides were all squirmy. It was weird.

With his clothes back on, he felt like he was in control again. “So, was that, uh, okay?” He gestured toward the drawings Koby had in the large wallet he was tucking under his arm.

“Fantastic.” Koby sounded sincere. “You did a great job. Did you want to see them?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. So long as you got what you wanted.”

Although he was curious and there were many other sketches, Vince didn’t want to see himself with a hard on, knowing that Koby had created those lines on the page. When he’d hoped they might get to know each other a bit better, that wasn’t what he’d imagined.

He couldn’t say it had been wholly unpleasant or that he regretted it, though. In fact, now it was over, he was surprised to realize he found the whole thing quite exhilarating.

But the sketches were for Koby. Vince didn’t need to inspect them.

Koby nodded. “I definitely got what I wanted. Are you all right to have another session at some point? When I’m working with the metal itself?”

Vince nodded back. “Yeah, man. No problem. Not like I’ve got much else going on. You want my number?”

Koby looked at him. Something strange passed behind his eyes. Then he smiled and relaxed. “To arrange another session, yes. Better than emails.” He got his phone out from the pouch on his kilt.

For a fleeting, crazy second, Vince wondered what Kory had on under there. Just because he knew ‘proper’ Scotsmen wore nothing at all. But that was really awful and gross to be thinking about someone else’s underwear when he didn’t really know them and they were working together. He mentally slapped himself and got his own phone out.

Honestly, what the hell was wrong with him? Popping boners and thinking about another dude’s underwear? He needed to get a grip.

“You walking to the parking lot?” Koby asked once they’d swapped numbers.

“Uh. I’ll head out in a bit. Just got to…” Vince waved his phone, keeping it vague. But he felt like he needed a few minutes to sort his thoughts out.

Koby shrugged. “Okay. See you later.”

Was it Vince’s imagination, or were his words a little cool?

Vince closed his eyes and shook his head when Koby walked out the door. Fuck, it was like he had a little crush on the guy or something. Like he was ten years old again trying to impress the older guys at school who were already on the football team. He was so desperate for Koby to like him he was acting like a whack job.

Well, at least that first meeting was done and it hadn’t been a total disaster. It could have been worse.

More importantly, the next time they met had the potential to be much better. The only way was up from here, really.