[ He passes the sketchbook over, watching curiously for Drake’s reaction. The drawing is a little rough, not yet done, but the broad strokes are there. The span of Drake’s shoulders, the way he holds himself. How the light casts his face. And a quieter expression on his face, in his eyes. Something honest. Real. ]
[ Drake studies it for a long moment, struck once again that he's seeing himself how Sharkface sees him. It's beautiful even as a sketch, something he's never thought about himself while looking at photos or in the mirror. ]
You always manage to get expression in the eyes. How do you do that?
[ This is nice, Drake thinks. Just being together, even if he has to actively curb the instinct to go in for a kiss. Instead he twirls a lock of hair around his fingers and lets the moment settle. ]
Thank you... I know how hard it is to let someone in.
[ He breathes out and, to his own surprise, settles. Not completely - never completely - but he trusts Drake, and it feels safe. And he misses being held. Like how his family would. ]
This place is fucked.
[ Understatement of the goddamn century. ]
But I’m trying - I’m trying not to be sharp with people all the time.
[ Closer is good, though at this point they're cuddled up in such a way that any more and someone's going to be in the other's lap. Not that Drake would mind that. ]
Everybody needs that. Trust is... really hard in the first place, you know?
[ Drake pulls back slowly, brushing a kiss to Sharkface's hairline as he gets up, and disappears into his bedroom. He keeps the spares in a drawer in there. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Show me.
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You always manage to get expression in the eyes. How do you do that?
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[ Which is the honest answer. It takes a lot of practice. He works at it. ]
I dunno. Always liked drawing faces. Trying to get people just right.
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[ He passes the book back, voice softening. ]
I love it.
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Helps, having -
[ He smiles. Just a little. ]
Somebody worth drawing.
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You can be real sweet, you know that?
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Sometimes, I guess.
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Trust me.
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I do.
[ Even now, he's not entirely sure how to explain that one. ]
Thank you. For this.
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Thank you... I know how hard it is to let someone in.
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This place is fucked.
[ Understatement of the goddamn century. ]
But I’m trying - I’m trying not to be sharp with people all the time.
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You're doing great with me, at least.
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[ Not perfect. Not always painless. But - better.
Safe. ]
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...why, do you think? I mean, coming at you with what I did could've just freaked you out.
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I don't know.
[ His voice is soft. ]
You could have lied to me. People do that. But I just ... believed it. Believed you.
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He smiles softly, brushing their noses together. ]
Guess I've got an honest face. But I'm glad you did.
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You do. Think maybe I needed that.
[ Someone honest. ]
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Everybody needs that. Trust is... really hard in the first place, you know?
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[ He used to trust too easily. It's been used against him. But then he found his family, and that -
It hurts, still. But it was real. He loved them. He would have done anything for them. ]
It can go wrong.
[ But it hasn't, with Drake. ]
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But if it doesn't, it's worth having.
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[ He takes a slow breath. Lets it go. ]
Yeah, it is.
[ Like this. ]
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[ Drake pulls back slowly, brushing a kiss to Sharkface's hairline as he gets up, and disappears into his bedroom. He keeps the spares in a drawer in there. ]
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You sure?
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I'm sure.
[ He reaches out for Sharkface's hand, placing the keys in his palm and folding his fingers around them. ]
You ever want company, or somewhere to paint, or just need a place to feel safe... you've got it here.
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