[ Sharkface shifts, watching Drake for a moment, then leans in and bumps their foreheads together. Gently, carefully. This feels important, too. Having this closeness. He doesn't with anyone else. ]
[ Drake leans into it, comforted by the closeness. He isn't entirely surprised that Sharkface can read him already -- he doesn't bother with acts around the other man, never has and probably never will. It doesn't feel right. ]
Yeah. You're still here.
[ He tilts his face up and presses a kiss to Sharkface's forehead, warm and affectionate. He's a little knotted up but he'll be fine. Just needs to let things settle. ]
Let's go sit. You can tell me what you've been up to? Any new projects?
[ Oh. Sharkface blinks several times, surprised by the gesture. The - gentleness of it, he supposes. He's not used to that. But he didn't flinch from it this time and that -
That's something, isn't it? ]
Yeah. We can do that.
[ He hesitates a moment, then puts his hand on Drake's arm. Lightly, gingerly, in case it isn't okay. ]
Not a whole lot? Mostly sketching. I can show you, if you want.
[ The hand on his arm gets a genuine smile out of Drake -- first he didn't flinch back and now he's reaching out, and that means a lot.
He leads Sharkface over to the couch, sitting first and letting the other man decide if he wants to maintain contact or not. Drake would certainly be happy to cuddle a bit. ]
[ They go to the couch and while Sharkface hesitates for a moment - perhaps a moment too long - he sits down and presses against Drake. Just a little. But it feels good, is the thing. It reminds him of being back with his family and how easily they'd held each other, how he could reach out and one of them would be there - Barrows, Rodriguez, Daisy, any of them - and he'd know he was safe, loved. He thought that was over. That he'd never know it again. ]
Yeah. A small one. It just - gives me something, you know?
[ The hesitation registers but in the end Sharkface sits down close and presses against his side, and a warm fondness spreads through Drake's chest. He drapes his arm over the back of the couch around the other man, holding him gently. Showing a quiet appreciation for the intimacy -- it really does seem like he's getting more comfortable with contact. ]
[ Sharkface nods, tugging the sketchbook out of his inner pocket. He flips through a couple pages, then offers it out to Drake. The pages are filled almost corner to corner, crammed with sketches. A few landscapes, places he's been. Mostly in the Down, but all over the city. Storefronts with shadowy customers coming and going, sunlight reflected in choppy waves. A couple armor studies from fights he remembers from back home. But mostly he's drawn people. Those he's met, talked to. A few he's seen on the street and doesn't know at all. There are several who repeat, though. Majima smoking a cigarette, Vanessa sitting in a tall backed chair, her back perfectly straight. Crais looking vaguely annoyed.
And Drake. Here and there, Drake appears. Giving that easy smile of his, observing the world quietly. Each time, he's been drawn with care. ]
[ Drake rests the book in his lap so he can turn pages one handed, not wanting to reclaim his arm from around Sharkface. The sketches are gorgeous, and he scans every page with care. Even though he doesn't know most of the people in the book, they're consistent and distinct, their expressions running the gamut from one drawing to the next. Sharkface has a talent for them, Drake thinks, for capturing emotion on the page.
He loses count of how many times he's seen himself, by the time he's gone through the filled pages. He breathes out and starts going through the book again backwards, just wanting to keep looking. ]
You might be the most talented person I've ever met, you know that?
[ He glances away from the book for a moment to check if Sharkface is blushing now -- not yet. But he's smiling. Drake grins back, eyes sparkling with amusement even as he speaks more seriously. ]
[ Sharkface huffs again. He was good at this once. Talking to other people, making them laugh. Making them smile the way that Drake's smiling now. It felt good, nature. Not always easy - it was something he had to work at, to practice - but it was the sort of work he liked, that he didn't mind putting in.
It's different now. Harder. He thought it was beyond him.
Maybe not, though. Maybe he can still talk with people like a normal human being. ]
I don't show a lot of people. Mostly, they don't ask.
[ Mostly, he doesn't offer. ]
I like drawing you. The way you move through the world.
[ That was the first thing he'd ever learned about Sharkface -- that he was a great artist. Looking at his work still gives Drake the same thrill, the same joy and appreciation even if he's not educated in art. He just knows what he likes. ]
Yeah? I'd make a joke about you getting my good side but... you kind of got every side.
[ That gets a faint huff. Sharkface settles against Drake, watching him. Wondering if maybe Drake will let Sharkface sketch him like this. Just for a little while. It doesn't have to be stiff. It could just be them, talking. Sharing space. Couldn't it? ]
How you talk with people. How you see them. Just - you. You pay attention.
[ It's hard to explain. Sharkface isn't sure he has the right words. ]
[ He absolutely would, especially if it'd make Sharkface happy. He's never posed for anyone before, not even Ephemera, but just talking, being together and holding mostly still is easy. Sharkface will have to ask, though, right now Drake's enjoying the contact. ]
It pays off. Watching people, seeing who they really are.
[ It's been a long time since he's just shared space with someone like this. Without it going sharp, without it turning violent in some way. Sharkface missed it, he realizes, and there's a pang of grief in his chest for all that he lost and knows he'll never get back. His brothers, his sisters. But for a long time he thought he'd never touch anyone again, not without violence, and now -
Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it feels like it's going to ruin him. But not right now.
He clears his throat. ]
Can I draw you? Just. Just for a little while?
[ He's done it often enough from memory. But not like this. Not when they're in the same room. ]
[ Drake tilts his head at the grief that passes through Sharkface's expression -- he's pretty sure he knows who the other man is thinking about, and so pulls him in a little tighter hoping it's a comfort. He's about to change the subject when Sharkface does it for them, and the request has Drake perking up a little. ]
Of course... like this? Or should I move? I've never posed or anything.
[ Drake passes it back, settling against the couch and Sharkface a little more comfortably. How's he been...? ]
Honestly? Kind of lonely, in that 'there are lots of people around but I don't feel close to anyone' way. It reminds me a little of when I was back in Seattle.
[ He wishes Sharkface had been in Hadriel, or... remembered it, whatever the case might be. But he should probably explain the comment about Seattle. ]
That's where I'm from... I worked undercover, so I couldn't really have connections. But I had to know and deal with a lot of people. It was like being alone in a crowd all the time.
[ There's something centering about sketching, about making any kind of art. It's not therapeutic, not like the counselor claimed, but it puts the world into its proper place. And then for a little while, things settle. They stay where they ought to be.
Sharkface watches Drake, nodding slowly. ]
You had to be on your guard all the time, didn't you?
Yeah. And couldn't tell anyone the truth, it was... I did a lot of good but I also kind of regret it. I never really got to have my own life and then I was dead, you know?
[ He watches the sketching, the lines appearing on the page with the promise of turning into something beautiful. ]
It's not so different here. I'm pretending, one way or another, most of the time. You're the only one I really trust.
[ There's a lot that Sharkface doesn't know about Drake's life before Duplicity. A lot they've shared, certainly, but not all. But he understands, he thinks. At least in part. You have to shut yourself off in a situation like that. Compartmentalize. It's about endurance, survival. And it takes a toll. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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You okay?
[ It's asked softly. ]
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Yeah. You're still here.
[ He tilts his face up and presses a kiss to Sharkface's forehead, warm and affectionate. He's a little knotted up but he'll be fine. Just needs to let things settle. ]
Let's go sit. You can tell me what you've been up to? Any new projects?
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That's something, isn't it? ]
Yeah. We can do that.
[ He hesitates a moment, then puts his hand on Drake's arm. Lightly, gingerly, in case it isn't okay. ]
Not a whole lot? Mostly sketching. I can show you, if you want.
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He leads Sharkface over to the couch, sitting first and letting the other man decide if he wants to maintain contact or not. Drake would certainly be happy to cuddle a bit. ]
I'd love to see. Do you carry a pad around?
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Yeah. A small one. It just - gives me something, you know?
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I know what you mean. Show me?
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And Drake. Here and there, Drake appears. Giving that easy smile of his, observing the world quietly. Each time, he's been drawn with care. ]
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He loses count of how many times he's seen himself, by the time he's gone through the filled pages. He breathes out and starts going through the book again backwards, just wanting to keep looking. ]
You might be the most talented person I've ever met, you know that?
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Yeah?
[ He huffs a little, flashing Drake a faint smile. ]
You're gonna make me blush.
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[ He glances away from the book for a moment to check if Sharkface is blushing now -- not yet. But he's smiling. Drake grins back, eyes sparkling with amusement even as he speaks more seriously. ]
I mean it, though.
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It's different now. Harder. He thought it was beyond him.
Maybe not, though. Maybe he can still talk with people like a normal human being. ]
I don't show a lot of people. Mostly, they don't ask.
[ Mostly, he doesn't offer. ]
I like drawing you. The way you move through the world.
no subject
[ That was the first thing he'd ever learned about Sharkface -- that he was a great artist. Looking at his work still gives Drake the same thrill, the same joy and appreciation even if he's not educated in art. He just knows what he likes. ]
Yeah? I'd make a joke about you getting my good side but... you kind of got every side.
[ He tilts his head curiously. ]
What do you mean, move through the world?
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How you talk with people. How you see them. Just - you. You pay attention.
[ It's hard to explain. Sharkface isn't sure he has the right words. ]
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It pays off. Watching people, seeing who they really are.
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[ It's been a long time since he's just shared space with someone like this. Without it going sharp, without it turning violent in some way. Sharkface missed it, he realizes, and there's a pang of grief in his chest for all that he lost and knows he'll never get back. His brothers, his sisters. But for a long time he thought he'd never touch anyone again, not without violence, and now -
Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it feels like it's going to ruin him. But not right now.
He clears his throat. ]
Can I draw you? Just. Just for a little while?
[ He's done it often enough from memory. But not like this. Not when they're in the same room. ]
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Of course... like this? Or should I move? I've never posed or anything.
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Like this. We can keep talking. It doesn't. It doesn't have to be formal or anything.
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Okay. I like that, I can watch.
[ It'll be cool to see the drawing take shape. ]
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Good. Good, we can do that.
[ It can be quiet. Simple. ]
How've you been?
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Honestly? Kind of lonely, in that 'there are lots of people around but I don't feel close to anyone' way. It reminds me a little of when I was back in Seattle.
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Yeah?
[ He tips his head to the side. ]
I get that. It's. I don't know. I feel like I can't breathe here.
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[ He wishes Sharkface had been in Hadriel, or... remembered it, whatever the case might be. But he should probably explain the comment about Seattle. ]
That's where I'm from... I worked undercover, so I couldn't really have connections. But I had to know and deal with a lot of people. It was like being alone in a crowd all the time.
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Sharkface watches Drake, nodding slowly. ]
You had to be on your guard all the time, didn't you?
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[ He watches the sketching, the lines appearing on the page with the promise of turning into something beautiful. ]
It's not so different here. I'm pretending, one way or another, most of the time. You're the only one I really trust.
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I've got your back.
[ It's said simply, a quiet promise. ]
Whatever happens.
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