Chapter 6
Austin
Another Friday night and I find myself staring at my phone, trying to decide if I should message Oliver again. I haven’t thought of much else all week, but now that Friday is here, it seems daunting and dangerous somehow.
The morning after the epic blowjob, we both slept in, waking up wrapped up in each other just before noon. It was less awkward than I expected it to be, and it turns out Oliver looks cute as fuck when he wakes up. We agreed to get together again sometime, and then I went home and spent the week trying to work up the balls to message him again. It shouldn’t be difficult at this point, but it is.
Biting the bullet, I open the app and type a quick message.
Austin: Hey
Oliver: Well, if it isn’t my guy Friday. What’s up?
Austin: Not much. What are you up to tonight?
Oliver: …you’re not going to believe it lol
Austin: Now I have to know
Oliver: One of the gigs I pick up IS actually nude modeling for a painting class. I do it once a month usually and tonight’s the night.
Austin: You’re kidding me
Oliver: ‘fraid not. But if you’re bored and looking for something to do tonight, I’m sure they wouldn’t say no to two models instead of one ;)
Austin: You want me to come model nude with you?
Oliver: Sure, why the hell not?
I bite my lip, reading the message over and over as I try to formulate a response. Why the hell not indeed. I could see what it feels like to be the type of spontaneous, confident person I got to pretend to be at Harry’s wedding. I can see what it feels like to be like Oliver.
Austin: Ok, I’m in
Oliver: No shit?
Austin: No shit lol
Oliver: Hell yeah! I’ll pick you up in an hour? This is going to be fun ;)
What the hell did I just agree to? I shake my head at myself and set my phone down. There’s no way this isn’t going to end with me embarrassing myself, but a little flutter of excitement in my chest keeps me from immediately messaging Oliver back to tell him never mind. Maybe he’s right, this could be fun.
Deciding a shower is in order, and maybe a bit of manscaping if I’m going to be standing naked in front of a room of strangers all night, I strip out of my clothes and grab my electric razor, making quick work of some of my bushier areas. Then, I hop into the shower. I whistle to myself as I soap up, trying to imagine what Luke would say if I told him what I’m up to tonight. He probably wouldn’t believe me. Hell, I hardly believe it.
Oliver shows up just as I’m trying to figure out what I’m supposed to wear.
I answer the door in a towel and his eyes roam over me appreciatively.
“Did you manscape?” he asks with a hint of amusement.
“Yes, don’t laugh,” I grumble.
“Not laughing.” He holds his hands up in defense. “I think it’s cute. But, you know, we don’t have to show up naked. We can take our clothes off once we get there.”
“Ha ha,” I say sarcastically. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
“It doesn’t matter; we’ll use the bathroom to take them off and then enter the room in robes anyway.”
“Okay, give me one more minute then, and I’ll be ready to go.”
Oliver follows me to my bedroom and dives onto my bed, laying back with his arms propped beneath his head to watch me dress.
“Mmm,” he hums appreciatively as I drop my towel and bend over to reach for a pair of boxers. “Skip the underwear, it’ll be hot,” he suggests.
I glance at him over my shoulder, arching my eyebrow. Oliver shrugs and smirks, and I drop the boxers back into my basket of clean laundry, reaching for a pair of jeans instead and pulling them on. With a t-shirt tugged on as well, I grab some socks and wave him after me so we can get going.
“Cool if I drive?” he checks.
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because my car is way shittier than yours.”
“I didn’t take you for the type to worry about material bullshit like that,” I note as I put on my coat and open the door to leave.
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be thinking it,” he points out. “It’s pretty obvious you like nice stuff.” He gestures around my apartment.
His statement gives me pause. Sure, I like having nice things, but I’m not some kind of materialistic prick. Although, I suppose I did notice that all the things in his apartment weren’t exactly new. Shit, maybe I am a materialistic prick.
“There’s more important things in the world than the shit you own,” I declare, climbing into the passenger seat of his beat-up old Honda.
“Preach, Guy Friday.”
“I thought I was sugar lips?” I tease.
“That’s such a generic nickname. I like Guy Friday much better.”
“Whatever you say, Ollie.”
Oliver
The invite had been meant as more of a joke, a crack about our made up Meet Cute, and I was surprised as hell that he actually accepted. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited now that I have him in my car, and he can’t back out.
“I’m assuming you’ve never done anything like this before?”
“That would be a no,” Austin confirms.
“You’re going to have to hold a pose for a long time, so pick something comfortable, and then just relax and wait until the teacher tells you to switch positions. It’ll feel weird at first to have a room full of people staring at you naked, but you get used to it pretty quick, so don’t stress.”
“Okay,” he says. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, years. It’s an easy way to make cash.”
Austin chuckles, and I glance over at him. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing, just noticing you say that a lot. Do you do anything that’s hard cash?”
I consider his question for a few minutes trying to figure out what exactly he means by it. It didn’t sound like it was intended as an insult, but I can’t stop thinking he’s asking if I’m unwilling to work hard for a living.
“You know, not everything has to be grueling,” I finally answer.
“No, I know that,” he agrees. “I just meant, isn’t there anything you wanted to work hard at?”
“I work hard on my paintings.”
“It shows,” he agrees. “They’re amazing. Where do you sell them?”
I shrug. “Art fairs sometimes. It’s hard to find a market for the stuff I paint.”
“Really? I would think there’d be plenty of people dying for some sexy art like that for their bedrooms.”
“Maybe.” I resist the urge to shrug again. “Maybe I just don’t know shit about selling, and after I die, all my paintings will sell for millions.”
“If you wanted, I could help,” he offers.
“Help?”
“Yeah, maybe show you how to set up a website and stuff.”
“If it wouldn’t be a huge hassle?”
“No hassle at all, I think it would be fun to set up, actually.”
I bite my tongue so I don’t say anything about the implication that we’ll be spending more time together if he’s planning to do this. Not just time together…time together with our clothes on. I’m not sure how to feel about that, but there’s a sort of warmth in my chest that tells me not to rock the boat and ruin this moment, so I don’t.
Arriving at the arts center, I can tell Austin is second-guessing his decision to do this.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” I insist.
“Do you say that about everything?” he asks.
“Pretty much,” I smirk. “And I’m always right, so get your ass out of the car so we can parade it in front of a bunch of art students.”
“I think you might be a bad influence on me,” he grumbles as he gets out of the car.
“Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
I grab Austin’s hand, telling myself it’s only to make sure he doesn’t try to bolt before we get inside, and drag him up the steps and into the building.
“Oliver, good to see you,” Mrs. Barker, the art teacher, greets with a smile. “You brought an extra model with you tonight?”
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay?”
“Absolutely. Thanks for joining us,” she says to Austin, and he gives a polite nod. Students start filing in and claiming easels, so I grab Austin’s hand again and show him where we can grab robes and change.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Austin complains, holding his robe together with clenched fingers.
“Talk you into it? I invited you, and you jumped at it. I didn’t exactly twist your arm,” I point out.
“Yeah, but you have some sort of weird voodoo mind control over me or something.”
“I do? That’ll come in handy,” I joke. “Seriously, relax. These are all adult art students; they’re not going to be a bunch of giggling school children when you take off your robe. I swear, you’ll forget you’re naked after a minute or two.”
“Please at least tell me it’s not cold in that room.”
I snort a laugh. “I promise they keep it at a very comfortable temperature. Now, let’s go because the longer we stand here the weirder you’ll feel. It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
Austin grumbles but follows me out of the bathroom, back into the classroom.
Mrs. Barker is giving instructions and tips as we slip in and take our places. I strip off my robe and nod at Austin to let him know to do the same. I can see him holding his breath as he does it, tossing it aside and squaring his shoulders.
“First pose, please,” she requests, and Austin looks at me with renewed panic in his eyes. I show him a quick pose and then get into my own.
The two hours goes by quickly, with a few pose changes. Austin visibly relaxes after the first few minutes like I predicted he would, and I decide to make a game out of making silly faces at him while he tries not to laugh and break his pose.
Near the end of the class, just before we’re supposed to get into our final poses, Mrs. Baker has a phone call from her daughter she says she has to take and leaves me in charge of the class while she steps out. Austin gets into a new pose, and I roam through the class stark naked, answering questions and giving tips here and there where I can.
When class is over, Austin and I get dressed and collect our two-hundred dollars each before taking off.
“So, was I right?” I ask smugly as soon as we get back into my car.
“Yes, you were right. It was fun, and I’m glad I did it. After all those naked in public nightmares I’ve had, this was strangely freeing.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I agree. “I’m starving, do you want to grab something to eat with me?” Austin’s eyes go wide and panic flits over his face. “Never mind. I can drop you back at your place, hang around to have sex, and then get something to eat on my way home.”
“No, it’s fine. Let’s get something to eat.”
“Okay, any requests?”
“Nah, whatever you’re in the mood for. I’m not picky.”
I decide on a diner I like that’s in the direction of his place and point the car in that direction.
As we talk and laugh over late-night pancakes, I start to understand why Austin looked freaked out by the suggestion. It’s entirely too nice to hang out with him like this.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“At the end, when you got to walk around and be the teacher for a little while, you seemed really good at it. Why don’t you do something like that instead of all these odd jobs?”
“Jeez, did my mother send you in as an undercover agent to bust my balls about my life choices or something?”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he mumbles, shoving a forkful of syrup drenched food into his mouth.
“No, it’s fine. I thought about it, but to be honest, the idea of having somewhere I have to be at the same time every day or even every week makes me itchy. I like the way I do things; it works for me. I know it’s not what most people think of as a stable life, but it’s my life, and I love it.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” I ask.
“No, but it certainly seems to suit you.”
“Thanks, Guy Friday. You about finished there? I’m more than ready to get back to your place and get naked,” I suggest, waggling my eyebrows and hoping to lighten the mood and get things back to a more comfortable, familiar place.
“When you put it that way…” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of twenties from his pay tonight, tosses them on the table, and drags me out of the diner, laughing the whole way.