An AU where Gilbert is an art student in college and Roderich has a side job of modeling at his life drawing class.
A c/p from the original post on my tumblr. Sorry for typos- it's from my phone and I don't feel a need to edit it now over a year later.
[Warnings: suggestive imagery]
Blue rose- The unattainable, the impossible. Artificially engineered.
He's only there once a week.
It's always the afternoon class, and he always comes in with a little black violin case, setting the instrument down with careful precision on the cheap faux-wood table set aside for the models to place their personal belongings. Gilbert wonders what orchestra he plays in. He thinks that it's probably the high-class, high-ranked symphony that plays in the fanciest concert hall downtown with highly-esteemed maestros from all over the world and is attended only by people in their high-priced Armani suits…- but Gilbert's never listened to "that shit" and is really only making a guess. (He wonders what chair he sits in. Probably first. He's probably concert master.)
He disappears to go change while students flip to a blank page or nibble on pencil tops or text behind their sketchbooks with their legs folded in against them, scrunched up on the chair. Gilbert taps his pencil against the black spiral-bound of his sketchbook, impatient and deaf to the mindless chatter around him. When he enters again, the professor stands up and quiets everyone down, giving their assignment for this first twenty minute session. (It's three minute sketches- concentration on the movement of form.) He leads the class in a light, half-hearted applause, introducing on spotlight their model, Roderich.
Roderich gives a small, polite nod in acknowledgement and asks how the instructor would like him to pose against the light. The accent is Germanic. Austrian, Gilbert thinks.
His professor tells him to sit on the chair one leg over the other and Roderich nods. When he sheds the robe, Gilbert can't help but follow the movement, captivated. Roderich seats himself in the chair, one leg positioned delicately over the other just like instructed, and rests his elbows on the arms of the chair, fingers steepled together across his chest. Gilbert is seated right in front of him, though Roderich never does as much as cast him a sparing glance. The entire time he is looking at some space beyond them all- every feature on his face controlled. Gilbert feels like he is in the presence of a king.
And the funny thing is, Roderich is no older than him. The same age, Gilbert thinks. He knows some of the other students on campus model as a small side job, but he's never seen him at the school before. He wonders if he's from that big fancy music school up the street.
At the end of five minutes, his professor calls time and has Roderich change to a different position- draped across the chair like a piece of fine, silk cloth. He's no longer facing Gilbert, but he searches out the other's face anyway, scoping out every change in shape and form just on that carefully composed expression. He wonders what those thin lips look like pursed and swollen red from use.
After five minutes, when Roderich shifts again, Gilbert wonders what that unmarked back would look like arched in pleasure. He wonders how that feather hair would like like matted to the side of Roderich's head in pleasured perspiration, chest rising up and down in shuddered breaths as his body jerks slightly to the measured thrusts entering his body.
Gilbert wants to do more than wonder, and he wants to draw it all.