Landon smirks. “I’ll pass. Have fun.”
“Suit yourself. See you later.” I shoot him a wink, grinning when his cheeks darken, and leave the locker room.
He does that a lot around me. Blushing, that is. It’s adorable. I don’t want to read too much into it because it could just be that he’s a little shy—which he is—or it could be something more. I’d never assume either way. There’s nothing I hate more than someone assuming my sexuality.
Landon is only a year younger than I am, but there’s something about him that seems even younger. He has this almost innocence to him that I find rather endearing. We became fast friends, but I can’t lie, I wish we were more.
The walk to the art building is short, and the day is beautiful. Sunny and bright, if not a little on the warm side. The birds are singing, and there’s a slight breeze blowing through my hair. A perfect day, really.
I slip into the building and down the hall to room 143. I haven’t done this before, and while it gives me a certain thrill, I’m also just the slightest bit nervous. Not that I’m shy about my body. Fuck no. It’s just… I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but not this.
I step into the classroom, and twenty sets of eyes zero in on me. I glance around, slightly curious, my attention flitting from person to person without much thought as I make my way to the professor.
He stands when I get to him, holding his hand out to me. “Benson Wells?”
I nod. “Yup. That’s me.”
He gives me a rundown of what to expect and, after making sure I have no physical limitations, hands me a robe, directs me to a changing screen, and tells me I can step onto the platform when I’m ready.
I strip down quickly and put the robe on before making my way to the front of the room and onto the platform.
I can feel every eye in the classroom on me, and it’s making me more nervous than I thought it would, given that I figured I’d really enjoy this. I guess it’s one thing to put on a show for a sexual partner and another to stand naked in the middle of a room with twenty people staring at you.
The professor gives me a slight nod, and I drop the robe, tossing it onto the table beside me. The professor tells me how to stand, then directs his attention to the class. “We’re going to start with a sketch. Just get the basic shape to start.”
A murmur of agreement goes through the room, and I take the opportunity to look around. Almost everyone seems completely focused on their task, heads down, only occasionally looking up at me. That is, until I get to the person sitting in the second row.
The first thing I notice is a shock of pale blond hair streaked with pink, and when I lower my gaze, aquamarine blue is staring right back at me.
I peruse their body, eyes lingering on the pale thighs barely concealed under the blue sundress they’re wearing.
The cotton candy hair is adorable; the round glasses perched on their nose even more so. They tilt their head, studying me. For what, I’m not sure, but it seems like I’m being lookedthroughmore than I’m being lookedat.
I wonder what they see.
I break eye contact, that simple stare making me feel more exposed than the fact that I’m balls out in the middle of a classroom.
I’ve got to get my head in the game. I clear my throat, standing stock still as the class takes their time sketching me.
By the time we’ve gone through a few basic poses, I’ve managed not to look at the stunning human again, but my eyes keep trying to pull in that direction, until finally I can’t resist anymore.
They’re already looking at me when I find their gaze, and they cock their head again. This time, their lips turn up into a smirk. It’s almost like they’re daring me to look away first.
Instead, I stare back, not breaking eye contact, and let my lips tilt into a smirk of their own.
It’s only when they glance back at their sketch that the spell finally breaks. I force myself to look around the room, my eyes sweeping over each person. Everyone’s focused on drawing, only looking at me long enough to make note of something before turning their attention right back to their sketch.
I’m trying to get the blond cutie’s attention again when the professor clears his throat. “Alright. That’s all for today. Benson, you can put the robe back on.”
Well, shit. I grab it, quickly slipping it on so I can catch up to Cotton Candy before they leave.
“Hey, wait,” I call out.
They turn, glancing up at me. “Yeah?”
“I’m Ben.” Wow. I’m really making a great first impression. “My pronouns are he/him.”
Cotton Candy’s eyes light up like they weren’t quite expecting that. Kai would have my balls if I went around assuming the gender of everyone I met. Having a nonbinary sibling has opened my eyes up to a lot.
