cravating | (no subject)

[ he feels like he should fill the silence somehow, but with what he's not quite sure. Small talk would have them talking about Simon again and he's about the last topic Matt wants to bring up. So he stays quiet, occasionally looking over towards him as they walk. Usually when he thinks it won't be seen.

On the underground Matt leans back against the glass partition, lazy and comfortable like he owns the place, like he always has a habit of doing. ]

Yeah well I'm kind of rusty. Almost gave it up completely. You know I got approached about an album deal? But well I fucked that one up didn't I.

[It's just plain rude how good he looks just leaning there. Nate doesn't know how he does it. And with the tshirt soaked and clinging to him, there's plenty for Nate to be distracted by right now. Fucking hell.]

Never too late, you know. Just need to get back out there.

Nah that ship has sailed. [ He still doesn't think he deserves it, no really, and after everything he's sort of scared to try.

It's funny how Nate looks at Matt having no idea Matt is looking right back. He looks like one of those models from a high fashion magazine, all high cheekbones and eyes that stare off into the middle distance. He can't help but notice too just how drenched he is. It makes him smirk. ]

You're soaked. You look like a drowned rat.

[Nate frowns, wanting to argue about the music thing, but not so sure if he should right now. Maybe he just needs time to get back into it. He's still playing. That's what's important.

The drowned rat comment distractions him a bit, causing him to look down, shaking out his hair a bit. Which probably hits Matt with a drop or two.]

You're one to talk.

[ he most definitely is one to talk, and he takes a look down at his sodden tshirt that is now partially see through. It might be obvious that since being with the Knights, Matt has been spending a fair bit of time in the gym. ]

Looks like we've got a wet tshirt competition going on. Who do you think will win?

[ he's teasing him in a way that feels natural, a way he always did. It always bordered on flirting but the difference is before it had always been so innocuous. He just used to enjoy flustering him ]

[He used to just get flustered. Now he's pretty sure Matt wouldn't mind him playing along. With his free hand, he slips the buttons of his coat so that he can shrug it off his shoulder. Removing it completely, he reveals that the rain did in fact soak through it, leaving large wet patches over his shirt. It was already a fairly snug fit, so there's quite the view here.

Nate's not exactly built, but he's got that lean look that really works for him.]

Might be a close call.

[ Matt watches him do his walk walk fashion baby, a brow raised and a wry smile to go with it. And... is he getting turned on? Fuck, he thinks he's getting turned on. Ok that's new. Even when they shagged he didn't really feel like he was getting turned on. Well ok he did, but not like that. More the heat of the moment stuff. This is new. Especially as he finds himself really noticing the way his nipples can be seen through the wet fabric.

He lifts a hand and wipes it over his face, shaking his head. ]

You're getting worse than I am. Someone's taught you bad habits, Mr Artiste.

Yeah, right terrible influence, that one. [He says with a little teasing smile of his own. He's watched Matt flirt plenty to know just what to say that he might. Not that he wants to be like Matt. It's what makes them different that makes this work. Or almost work. It could work.]

You complaining?

I look like I'm complaining?

[ He doesn't reach out, doesn't touch him or anything as grand as that, but it's remarkable, really, not only has he not run but their teasing like this where people could see. Oh it could be two friends joking, but the difference is that Matt knows it's so much more than that. ]

You know you best be careful. Those hipster natural fibres of yours, I bet they're all dry clean only.

I'll live. Some things are worth ruining a shirt over. [No one around them knows just what might have ruined it, but they do. And Nate's being more than a little bold to say as much out in public. He's trusting that Matt will be better with it this time, that he won't snap, won't lash out out of fear and anger.]

Next stop's ours.

[ It's the sort of thing that could have him recoiling, but almost remarkably? He doesn't. He doesn't say anything though, just smirks a bit and looks to the doors as the train slows down and they open. He nods towards it and pushes from the glass, stepping around him only to smack him gently on the backside as he passes. ]

Careful.

[It's the most surprising thing that's happened all night. This isn't some reactionary instinct like Matt kissing him was. That was a purposeful decision.

One that he liked, honestly.

Turning, he follows him out, catching up and leading the both of them back up the stairs and onto the street. He can't help but glance over at him every now and then, wondering how long they can hold on to this feeling.]

Just there. [He points to a building up ahead that looks just like what one would think a gallery showing Nate's work would look like. It's square and stark white, very minimalist. There's not even a sign on it. You just have to know. Digging in his pocket, Nate pulls out the key card they gave him and swipes them in, holding the door open for Matt.]

Should have known it would be a place like this. [ He gives hm an approving look as they head up to the pretentious looking space, and when he steps in he wipes his feet and imagines if he came here in the day he'd probably be asked to leave. ]

Look at this, swanky.

[ As they step in a series of expensive looking strip lights light into life, not too bright, moody, probably more art. He steps up, seeing a flyer in all dark blue with Nate's name in white minimal font. He picks one up and turns it towards him. ]

Well look at this. Do I get an autograph from the artist?

[Nate leaves his coat draped over a chair near the front. They're both dripping water all over the floors, which is probably frowned upon, but fuck if he cares right now. As Matt lifts the flier, he just rolls his eyes and laughs.]

If you want. Can have anything you'd like.

[And he means that.]

Nate

[ Matt says his name pointedly. This is all very precarious, he knows. They both know. But despite the gentle warning, he isn't really chiding him. He isn't telling him not to. ]

I already know your signature. I used to forge it to get the Chinese when you couldn't be arsed to pick it up.

[He looks down briefly, a little bashful at the way Matt says his name. A little too far? Maybe. They're figuring this out together.]

Forge it, then. Sell it on eBay for a whole five quid if you'd like. Won't fetch you much more. [He can't stop smiling. Is that normal? It probably isn't.]

Come on. The best stuff's in the back.

Oh I don't know Mr Big Artiste. Soon you'll have people flocking around you. Screaming at the doors, just to get a glimpse. The rockstar of South Wales, that's you.

[ He shoots him a small wink, and follows on behind him, letting him lead the way. He's kind of excited, he's not really seen any of his stuff in ages. He just hopes there's not a block of wood he's got to look enthusiastic over like that one time. ]

[He can't even dignify that ridiculous idea with a response. It's nice to think about, though. Maybe he could be as famous as Matt thinks he could be. He's done well so far. Some big purchases lately, not that he knows who they are for. But it's still good for his confidence. Really pushes him to keep at it.

The room in the back that he leads them to is darker, but it's on purpose. There are a few sculptures and a few paintings, both. It's all still very modern and abstract, but it's not just pieces of wood so there's that.]

[ Walking through, Matt starts to look over the items, intense and curious. His interest isn't simply superficial, he really cares, truly cares. ]

Fucking hell, Nate...

[ The whole thing is amazing, it's professional, and he feels a weird sense of pride that he's come this far. He still remembers that nervous first year who never thought he'd come to anything. He comes to a halt in front of a wall with a huge canvas on it, painted in blue with a gentle gradient through to white. On it, there's something, dots, that look almost like stars. ]

This is incredible.

[ He's a little open mouthed, no teasing now. ]

[Nate lets him walk around on his own, trying not to guide him too much or influence how he sees things. It's important to him that Matt experience it for himself. As he stops in front of the large, blue canvas, Nate moves over to his side, standing next to him, looking up at the piece.]

This one was my favorite. Do you remember that trip we took? Just after Christmas and it was so bloody cold that the car wouldn't start? You went walking into town for help and I just climbed on top of the car and watched the stars come out. Nearly froze to death, but I kept thinking that you were out there, walking in the cold, so it wasn't right for me to stay warm. And the stars, Matt... I don't know. I guess they stayed with me.

[As he speaks, he doesn't look anywhere but straight ahead, but his hand moves, cautiously shifting until it bumps against the back of Matt's, fingers gently moving to try to thread with his.]

Yeah that was a fucking rental car, I didn't get my deposit back because of those scratches you left on the roof. And I nearly froze my bollocks off walking to that village.

[ He barely registers it at first, that touch of movement as he continues to stare at the painting, but then there's a realisation and it's instinct that kicks in before he has time to think about it. He pulls his hand back a touch sharply and shoots him a look. ]

Nathan.

[ He takes a step over to a sculpture that... he can't quite work out, and uses it to change the subject. ]

Okay so what's this supposed to be then?

[It hurts a little, the way he pulls back, that instinct that he can't quite fight. But Nate had caught a glimpse of what was behind that wall, and he wasn't going to back down now.]

It's a piece that's meant to symbolize being a man and acknowledging how you feel for someone.

[Shots fired.]

[ He almost doesn't hear that because shit. He'd almost forgotten how Nate had a habit of calling him on his shit. He always used to, it's how they ended up doing things in the first place after all. But this? Well that was a brave fucking move. ]

Oh fuck off [ he bites back, and responds in his text book manner]

I'm more of a man than you'll ever be. Just because you sit around wanking over old pictures of me doesn't mean I'm doing the same thing. [ he hates it, that he said that, things he doesn't mean, words he knows are hurtful, it's automatic and that's no excuse, why him of all people does he just keep on hurting. ]

[It stings as much as it might if he has been punched. Nate takes a step back and tries to collect his thoughts before he responds. Getting mad isn't going to help. It would just escalate things, and would land them back at square one.]

So all that about properly talking was what? Because waiting for you to come around to it on your own is a waste of fucking time, isn't it?

[Well, he tried not to escalate it...as much as he could.]

[ Matt stands with his eyes closed and his fist balled tightly. He hates himself. What a prick thing to do, and he knows it. He's right, completely right. Matt himself had said they should talk, and how is this talking? Flinging insults and borderline gay taunts the like he'd have picked up from his old 'friends' back in Ireland. ]

I'm sorry. [ He sighs, and it's almost surprising maybe, because Matt doesn't really do apologies either. ]

I'm a prick, I'm sorry. I'm just really fucking bad at this, Nate. What do you want me to say? This all comes easy to you, but not to me. I'm doing my best here, but look at me. I told you, I'm a mess.