A/N
This is the no powers, slice of life, modern college AU that nobody asked for. It was going to be one long one-shot but I decided to break it up into smaller chapters. Updates will be sporadic because I have no outline for this fic/am half-assing it. If you don't like the ship, don't read. Rated T for mild language and no smut. Leave a review if you feel so inclined!
Chapter One: Model
Butch scanned the bulletin board for any new on-campus job postings, part of his morning routine for the past month and a half. Get dressed, grab a drink, check flyers, go to English class. Nothing had caught his eye until now, and he paused to give the post-it note more than a cursory glance.
'Models wanted for art study. $$'
The blue post-it was still there the next day and the day after. Maybe nobody had noticed it in the upper left corner, but Butch had because it was directly at his eye level. Maybe it was some kind of sign from the universe that his financial hardship would be alleviated by modeling. Yeah, right; he didn't believe in shit like that. What did 'art study' mean, anyway? He'd have to stand around while people doodled him? He snatched the piece of paper. Easy money.
A room number and name was written on the back. Butch hadn't been in the art building yet, casting his gaze about uncertainly like a lost child in a mall. "Um, sorry…" He stepped into the path of a guy walking by. "Know where this is?" Upstairs. The door was wide open, revealing a spacious area filled with easels and chairs. A singular large window had its curtains drawn back to flood the room with natural light, and a man with greying hair bustled at the rear. Butch tentatively knocked on the frame. "Hi, um, I'm here 'bout this?" He proffered the post-it and the man's face brightened.
The gig entailed exactly what he assumed: he had to pose for students attending a weekly figure drawing class. The professor, Farber, put his mind at ease by saying he wouldn't be naked. Nude models were outsourced since it might be uncomfortable for students to encounter peers they'd studied in the buff. Butch could wear a pair of black or white fitted underwear. He had to hold a variety of poses for a variety of minutes, which the professor would dictate during the actual session. There was also the possibility of being invited back or referred to other instructors.
"Found a job," Butch informed his roommate when they met up on the soccer field that afternoon.
"Doing what?" Harry asked. As far as roommates went he was just fine minus his propensity to let laundry pile up until it reeked. They both generated a lot of sweaty workout clothes but Butch dutifully washed his every Wednesday, one such thing it'd be nice to have extra quarters for.
"Gonna model for an art class," he answered. "Twenty-five bucks an hour but it's only two hours."
"That isn't very much." Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's the point, then?"
"Might get asked to do it again." Which he was sort of banking on, so he didn't want to fuck up the opportunity.
That Sunday Butch arrived fifteen minutes prior to the class with nothing more than a water bottle and the clothes on his back, taking a seat on a padded stool in the middle of the room. The easels had been situated around it, placing him centerstage. His foot bounced while watching the clock tick. "It's okay to be nervous," the professor said, smiling kindly. He was definitely somebody's sweet old grandpa. "Just try to keep the fidgeting to a minimum." Butch nodded, but truth be told he doubted his own ability to sit completely still for too long. "I didn't want to be judgmental when we first met, but you look like an athlete."
"I play soccer," Butch confirmed.
"Mm, I see. Hoping to go pro?"
"That's the dream."
"What's your major? I hope it's not psychology."
Butch half-smiled at the stereotype. "Kinesiology."
"Interesting!" Professor Farber beamed. "Where are you from if you don't mind me asking?"
"New York."
"And you came all the way out here to play soccer?"
There were a variety of reasons why Butch had moved across the country to attend Oakview College in California. It was peaceful, which he greatly appreciated after spending his whole life in the City that Never Slept. Nobody knew him so he had a clean slate. The nearby metropolitan center, Townsville, had a reputation for being filled with happy, friendly residents; a large percentage of the student body lived there. Butch's main motivation for leaving home was to avoid family drama, but he didn't think the kind professor wanted to hear that. "It's quiet," he replied. "I needed space to think."
Farber nodded sagely. A knock came at the door just then and his first students began filing in. Everyone bid the professor good morning, chattering with their friends while getting situated. Nobody gawked at Butch which he supposed was a good thing. The man stood ready to close the door one minute before ten o'clock, tsking when a trio of girls sprinted inside. "You three were almost locked out again!" he chided.
"Sorry, Farb!" they chorused, giggling. Other students rolled their eyes as they found seats in the far corner. Apparently they had a reputation. After locking the door, windowless so passersby couldn't peep at the artistic nudes, the professor gave Butch a nod indicating it was safe to undress. He removed his shoes and socks before pulling his shirt off, eliciting some sounds of intrigue and approval. They were very faint since it was bad manners for students to comment on models, but he still heard them.
"Can I sketch him like that, in jeans?" someone inquired.
"I want to, too!" another girl piped up.
"Do you mind?" Professor Farber asked of Butch, and he most certainly did not. There were a lot of girls in the class and several of them regarded him like they wanted to jump his bones. Too bad he was more interested in establishing good grades than a relationship right now. "Five minutes for this pose," the man said. Butch sat with his hands clasped on his lap, surveying the room as the artists became focused on their sketchbooks, pencils skritch-scratching. Once time was up he ditched his jeans, hunching forward on the stool. Then he did some standing poses and the first half hour passed like that.
The next hour was spent holding more dynamic poses. First Butch leaned against the window while looking pensive, then he stood with his arms behind his neck as if stretching after a workout, then he laid on the floor while pretending to read. Students moved around the room, drawing him in greater detail from different angles. One girl, one of the three running late, sat very close to his head, leaning over her sketchbook as her sky blue eyes constantly flicked from her page to him. Butch watched her draw his own eyes in great detail, using black and forest green charcoal pencils. After about ten minutes he noticed the pencils stopped moving and she simply stared at him. "Hi?" he whispered, barely a breath. No one was supposed to talk.
The girl blinked and started blushing, the freckle-dusted apples of her cheeks matching her pink lips. She smiled shyly. "Hi. Your eyes are, like, really pretty."
Butch had received handsome, hot, sexy, fine, built, jacked, ripped, and chiseled as adjectives related to his physical appearance, but never pretty. Boys weren't typically described as such. "Are they?" he asked.
"Oh my god, yes," the girl insisted, also whispering. "They're like emeralds."
"Emeralds," he repeated. "Never heard that before."
"Well, it's true. They're just… really unique." She gathered her materials and scurried back to her corner spot. Butch couldn't turn his head to see, but he was pretty sure he heard her murmuring with her two friends. Way to make him self-conscious.
Professor Farber instructed him to lean on the stool with his chin in his hand for the final twenty-minute pose, but Butch had gotten restless after two hours of remaining stationary. He should go for a run later, or hit up the gym, or grab food with Harry because he was really hungry now that he realized it, and it was lunchtime…
No sooner had he formed that thought than his stomach audibly growled, making most of the students look up in alarm. Shit, how embarrassing. Butch took deep breaths but it didn't work, his stomach gurgling like a ravenous beast. Thanks to his stupid-fast metabolism and the fact that he was undergoing yet another growth spurt, his gut currently resembled more of a black hole than a normal human digestive system. "Is that you?" someone asked, blinking at him in disbelief.
"Sorry," was all Butch could think to say, but the professor laughed gently.
"I suppose we can end five minutes early before you pass out. Great job, everyone. I saw a lot of good work today." Butch hurriedly dressed, pausing as Farber handed him an extra ten dollar bill with his fifty. "Please eat something," he said, giving the boy a stern look that meant "I know you're not taking good care of yourself".
"Thanks…" Butch got the hell out of there before the artists could judge him too severely.
"Hey, model dude! Wait a sec!" He glanced back from the foot of the stairs to see the trio of late girls coming after him. One tripped on the bottom step and almost face-planted but caught herself in time, springing upright. She resembled a peppy anime character just then, not just because she was some variety of Asian. "You!" She thrust a pointer finger at him. "Must be starving, right?"
"We want to buy you lunch!" said a brunette with big blue doe eyes. Most people were short compared to Butch but she was especially diminutive.
"Is that okay?" asked the girl who had likened his eyes to emeralds. She was blonde, the tallest of the three, and noticeably curvier than her friends. She also wore glasses now, giving her a cute bookish vibe.
"You wanna buy me lunch?" Butch echoed. "Why?"
"We have a proposition for you."
The girls were all sophomores and locals, 'Townies' as anyone from the metro affectionately referred to themselves as. They waited until after food had been ordered at the bistro to introduce themselves, the Asian girl shaking his hand first. "Nice to meet you, I'm Kim Kee. If you make jokes about kimchee or soy sauce I'll hurt you."
So she was Korean. "Butch," he responded in kind, dwarfing her palm.
The brunette shook his hand next, but it was kind of awkward since she was a lefty. "I'm Robin Snyder, and if you make jokes about robin's egg blue I too will hurt you." Her sweet smile made him dubious of that claim.
The blonde girl was also a lefty but Butch was prepared for her. "I'm… Bubbles," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
His brow rose. "Bubbles?"
"Tell him your full name!" Robin prompted.
She hedged, then sighed in resignation. "Sophia Bubbles Utonium."
"Wow."
"Ugh, it's so stupid, I know!" She buried her face in her hands.
"No, it's really cute," Butch refuted. She peeked at him between her fingers and that was really cute, too. "Why go by your middle name?"
Bubbles slumped in her seat. "It's like ripping off the band-aid. Once everyone knows my stupid name they can get it all out of their system."
Butch shook his head. He definitely wasn't creative enough to come up with ways to tease these girls about their names, but apparently they'd endured a lot if they had to mention it when meeting new people. "If it makes you feel better, my middle name is Mann. Two N's."
"Your name is 'Butch Mann'?" Kim gaped at him. "That's so perfect. Guys, I told you he was perfect."
"Perfect for what?" he wondered.
Robin folded her hands very business-like. "We would like to proposition you to be our croquis." That word was utterly foreign to him. "A croquis is a human form typically referenced for fashion. Designers trace over croquis so they don't have to draw bases from scratch all the time," she explained.
"Except we aren't fashion designers," Kim said, "we're comic artists."
"And we could really use a male model for reference," Bubbles added. "It's a superhero comic, and you look like one, so…" She trailed off, cheeks flushing.
Butch was stunned. "I do?"
"Yeah dude!" Kim, sitting beside him, lifted his arm as if presenting a trophy. "Like, do you own a mirror? These are superhero biceps. And you have abs."
"Six of them!" Bubbles tittered.
"And a nice butt…" Kim paused. "By the way, we'd need to draw you naked."
Butch raised his hands. "Whoa, hold up. I posed for your art class 'cause I got to keep my junk covered. I don't even know you."
"How well do you have to know someone to see them naked?" Robin returned. "It's not like we're using you to draw porn." Bubbles cleared her throat. "Well, okay, there is one scene…"
He leaned as far away from these crazy girls as he could get. "The hell makes you think I'd say yes to that?!"
They exchanged looks, Bubbles lacing her fingers beneath her chin. "We'll pay you."
"Pay me?" His eyes narrowed. "How much?"
"How much do you want?" she countered. "Twenty? Thirty? Fifty?"
"Per day?"
"Per hour," Bubbles corrected.
Fifty bucks an hour to let them reference him for a comic? But they were girls and they'd see him naked. And who knew what kind of poses they'd put him in? But he could really use the money. It was a tempting offer. "I dunno…"
"Butch, c'mon," Kim whined. "You're the archetype. You're perfect. Where're you from, anyway? I like your accent."
"Manhattan," he answered. If they were trying to ply him with flattery it was starting to work.
"Ooh, a New Yorker! Even better! That's the home of every superhero!"
Bubbles drummed her painted nails on the tabletop. "How about we give you some time to think it over?"
Like they expected him to say yes right away? Their food arrived and Butch ate with gusto, finishing a double-decker burger in two minutes flat. He then dispensed ketchup all over his French fries. "Eww, who does that?" Kim demanded, wrinkling her nose. "You're supposed to put ketchup on the side. Now no one wants your fries."
"That's the point," Butch said. "Stopped my brothers from stealing them."
"You have brothers?" Bubbles sounded intrigued.
"Two. The older one, Brick, hangs with a bad crowd. The younger one, Boomer, is a spoiled little shit."
"So you're in the middle." She placed a hand on her chest. "I'm the youngest. I have two sisters, Blossom and Buttercup."
"Mmph." He couldn't say much else while cramming fries into his mouth. "They go here?"
"Nope. Blossom goes to Columbia and Buttercup is in Alaska wrestling with polar bears or something."
"She sounds awesome," Butch remarked. Bubbles sighed, hearing that all too often.
Robin laughed. "Buttercup is an adrenaline junkie. She's mountain climbing in Alaska, not wrestling polar bears."
"Which would be really awesome," Kim grinned, "and hey, isn't Columbia in Manhattan?" Butch nodded. "Why didn't you just go there? What're you doing here, anyway?"
Robin wondered that, too. "Yeah, Oakview is basically the default option for kids from Townsville and Citiesville since they accept everyone. What are you majoring in?"
"Health science." Butch's response to Kim was delayed by sucking down a milkshake. "I'm here on soccer scholarship." The three girls hummed in comprehension as he gave the menu behind the counter a longing look.
"Want something else?" Bubbles offered. She had paid for everyone's meals with a shiny debit card, leading Butch to assume she was a rich girl.
"Mozzarella sticks sound good. And a club sandwich. And another shake."
Kim's eyes widened. "How can you eat that much? I've known a few guys who could put away food, but damn. That's two whole meals!"
"Didn't really have anything since yesterday morning," Butch replied. They regarded him pityingly and Bubbles left her chair to place another order for him.
"Don't you have a meal plan?" Robin asked.
"Yeah, but…" He spent that allowance on something besides food. "It's not enough," he lied.
Kim waved it off. "Well, you're a big dude, and you're an athlete so you need lots of calories, right? You could eat as much as you want if you agreed to be our croquis. Obviously we weren't expecting you to do it for free. We'll pay you in cash every session."
The deal sounded sweeter, but he still had doubts. Robin smiled reassuringly. "Sorry if we freaked you out by bringing up nudity first thing. It's just easier to draw people from reference when there's nothing in the way. But we can ease into that, after you get comfortable around us. We wouldn't even need a croquis if we were good at drawing the male figure."
"Yeah, the story is about these three girls being awesome and supportive of each other and kicking ass. When it was just them, we used ourselves as reference." Kim gestured to Butch. "Now that there's a male love interest, it'd be nice to have a muscular guy to draw from."
Bubbles returned, setting a new tray of food atop his empty one. "If you say no, we'll keep looking for somebody. It's your choice." She tried acting casual by examining her nails. "Most students would kill for a gig like this. No one else is willing to pay you fifty dollars an hour to stand around looking pretty."
She was right and Butch knew it. He needed cash, they were offering, and he didn't even have to do anything intensive. Grabbing that post-it note off the bulletin board had landed him in as ideal a situation as he was going to find. And he wasn't actually that freaked out by random girls seeing him naked, it was just weird. Posing for them would probably be no different from that morning. "How often would you need me?" he asked.
"Every day," Robin answered. "We work on the comic every day after classes. Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes until midnight. We take Sunday off to relax."
So Butch would be pocketing a minimum of a hundred bucks all but one night of the week. He'd have to be insane to say no to that. "Okay…" he agreed, and all three girls broke into huge smiles. "I'll do it."
He just sold his body for art.