Strike A Pose

By: Riley

Summary - It didn't take much to convince Zack to pose for a drawing; who didn't want to be oggled for how long it took? And yet, Zack wondered if it was a good idea. Prompt from Tumblr.

Zack slumped to the side. Then sat up straight, dropping his hands between his knees. He stared forward for a second. Then he relaxed his shoulders, puffing out his chest to stretch his back, and turned, resting his feet on the bottom rungs of the stool next to him. He sat still, stared at the wall in front of him, his mind growing blank…for all of five seconds before realizing his back was itchy, making him wiggle back and forth, hoping the roughness of the fabric moving across his back would scratch it—

"Look!" Riley huffed and ripped a half-started sheet of paper out of her sketchbook. She crumpled it and threw it to Zack, watching as it harmlessly bounced off his forehead. A smirk pulled at her lips as she curled her hands over the top of the pad, resting her chin on it. She tapped her fingers in a steady beat before saying, "I know it's hard for you to sit still for more than a micro second, mate, but can you please stop wiggling around?"

Zack's shoulders immediately dropped, lower lip sticking out in a pout. "I'm sorry." He sounded anything but. "But if I'm going to sit here and stare blankly at something, I need motivation." He watched a wave of trepidation move over her face, through her blue eyes, and waited for her to give in to ask.

As she usually did.

It didn't take long.

"Like?" Riley finally prompted.

"Like…" Zack thought for a second and rolled his eyes. He turned toward Riley, curling his fingers around the edge of the stool, leaned toward her. "Have you ever listened to Cody talk before?"

Riley lifted an eyebrow. She tilted her head, training her eyes on him. "I've listened."

"No, I mean really listened to him." Zack twirled his finger beside the side of his head. "He doesn't say anything, he just goes on and on and on and on." He opened and closed his hand like a mouth. "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah."

"I'm sure many people could say the same thing about you."

"At least I've got something to say."

"Like now?" Riley flipped to a clean page on her sketchbook, lying it across her lap.

Zack dropped his hand to his lap, pouting—a real one this time—as he always did when he was compared to his brother. Lest, his pout wilted to an almost haughty expression. "At least I'm not boring."

"Really, mate? 'Cause this whole convo is lulling me to sleep, yeah?" She picked up the pencil she'd stuck behind her ear when she tore apart her drawing. "It's only for an hour, I just need you to sit still so I can finish this drawing." Zack sighed heavily through his nose, tilting his head back. "You didn't have to do this."

"And miss my chance to be openly checked out?" Zack folded his arms. He lowered his chin, shooting her another haughty look once more. "C'mon Sweet Thang, you know I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, I doubt your ego would be able to handle not being the center of attention for more than a second." She cast him a withering glance, pointing the sharpened end of her pencil at him. "And stop calling me that."

"Sure thing, Hot Stuff."

"Zack!"

Zack held up his hands, ducking when Riley flung her pencil at him. It arced through the air toward his head, landing harmlessly among the carefully stacked paintings, sculptures, and works from other students—students who had the foresight to come up with a topic for their assignment of 'feeling'. A peal of laughter escaped Zack's lips, filling the room, echoing off the corners.

Even Riley couldn't help but allow herself to laugh, leaning forward to hide her face behind her sketch pad. Finally, with a smile in her voice, she said, "Can you please just fucking sit still? I really want to finish this today. And you promised to help me."

"Okay! Okay!" Zack threw his hands into the air, laughter fading. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just sit there. Pose! I don't care!" She ran her hand along the now clean, empty page in front of her. Lowered her voice to a murmur. "Just stop moving."

"Fine."

Zack moved into a comfortable position, rounding his shoulders forward into a comfortable slump that he'd grown into over years of playing video games for hours on end. He relaxed his jaw, allowing his teeth to part slightly, allowing his tongue to flatten against his teeth. Moved his lips into what was neither a smile nor a frown—an almost playful smirk, his eyelids falling to a fraction above half-lidded. A look that others would've brushed off as him being lightyears away but was the exact opposite.

He'd never been more focused. Listening as Riley motioned to her face with a wave of her hand saying, "Look at me."

As if he'd ever wanted to look anywhere else.

With every pencil stroke and every line Riley blended together, Zack watched the intense attention she gave him. How she visibly started with his head, keeping her eyes on his, slightly flickering left and right to take in his face. Then worked her way down, making her frown and twist almost sideways, mimicking his posture at one point, to take in his upper body.

Zack felt himself become a bit nervous then, his stomach twisting. Wondering what it was she was seeing, what it was she was recreating on paper. He was no Joe Schmoe, that was for sure. His own ego aside, his parents were very attractive and made cute children. Even Cody, who Zack was sure would never get a girlfriend, had enough attention from girls long before Zack figured out how to successfully woo them that always made him burn with jealousy.

But now…now in the quiet room where he had nothing but Riley's undivided attention, Zack felt naked. The thought of it alone scared him. Everyone said he wasn't fat but… Zack turned his eyes down, suddenly ashamed.

"Eyes on me, boofhead," Riley reminded him gently, though the teasing edge to her voice unmistaken. He snapped his gaze back to her.

Wondered what it'd be like if he were drawing her, which part he'd focus on the most. He'd probably simply just stare at her while sullenly trying to draw anything but a stick figure with some hair crudely drawn on. His artistic capabilities weren't so advanced, but he certainly would want to focus on her eyes.

Eyes that, even when the rest of her face was blank, could betray what they were really feeling. But, Zack learned from experience, one had to be careful trying to figure out. Anger could cover sadness, happiness could cover pain, and yet happiness could be happiness with nothing in between. But if he were to draw her eyes, he had to draw her nose. The nose that housed all the freckles that spread to her cheeks, giving her a shockingly youthful look compared to the hardness of her resting face, having seen too much pain over the years.

She drew him seriously. She didn't want to lower his already fragile self-esteem—though he was never quick to admit it. Some of him was covered by the shadows cast from the lightning in the room, making her job easier, almost making it easier for him. He could hide in the shadows, giving much less for her to work with. In the different poses he kept himself in before, it was only seconds before discomfort covered him.

Right then, he wasn't uncomfortable. The whole time Zack watched her just as intently as she was watching him. Occasionally his eyes would flicker from her own, allowing him to take in the big picture of her; of her tongue poking just slightly out between her lips. A small smile would spread across Zack's face when he saw her glance up to look at him again, seemingly to become even more focused each time she did so.

Zack wasn't sure how much time had passed by the time his butt started to grow numb. It couldn't take that long to work could it? She might have elongated the process by a few minutes or so. Zack didn't want to speak, in fear of ruining the moment. She just looked so serene as she worked; so peaceful. The more she drew, the more comfortable he became.

He loved every minute of it.

But he was still human, and no human could ignore a numb ass on a stool. Zack parted his lips, took a breath, ready to speak. "Are you—"

"—If you say 'draw me like one of your French girls', I'm going to kick your ass," Riley said so monotone that Zack couldn't help but laugh.

"I was going to say you're taking your time," Zack said.

Almost as if a trance were broken, Riley leaned back and asked, "You want to look good, yeah?"

"I always look good."

He was rewarded with a light roll of her eyes. "I want a good grade," she said simply. Yeah, right. She couldn't get a bad grade even if she tried. It was of the few classes where you could turn work in late and still have it be graded fairly. Finally, she leaned back, scrutinized the page, and scribbled in the corner in a flourish—signing it. "Finished." She set her pencils aside and beckoned him toward her. "Come see."

Instead, Zack leaned forward and grabbed the leg of her stool, pulling her across the floor to him. The screeching of the legs across the linoleum floor almost—but not quite—covered Riley's amused giggle. Finally, she turned it toward him.

Zack stared.

It took a few moments for him to blink. To take in every part of his face; of the darkly shaded areas, to the lighter ones, taking in his own reflection. He may as well be looking in the mirror. It almost worried him that the drawing didn't move every direction he did as he shifted back and forth.

He smiled.

"Do you like it?" Riley's voice turned soft, questioning. She twisted her fingers together in front of her before bringing up her leg hand to rub at her right arm. "What do you think?"

"I think you'd give all those old farts in any museum a run for their money," Zack said. His eyes lit up at the thought. "How much do you think you'd make off this? Off drawing other people? If you market this right, you can easily make a pretty penny." He laughed when Riley elbowed him in the side, giving him a disapproving look. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"So, you're going to pimp me out just to get some cash?" Riley scowled at him, eyes flashing. A look he'd seen many times before and easily knew how to appease. A kiss to her cheek did as much.

"No, the only pimping I'm going to put you through is to myself," Zack said, earning a roll of the eyes. "I've got exclusive rights to the artist and everything she wants to bring to any and all personal meetings." He paused an added, "The art's good too, I guess."

"You guess?" Riley brushed her cheek with her shoulder and folded her arms. "What do you know about art?"

"Nothing." The answer was so simple that Riley chuckled quietly. Then he tossed a flirtatious grin her way. "But I know it when I see it," his eyes well away from her drawing and instead on her form. She blushed but continued to smile broadly. "So." Zack slid his arm around Riley's waist, drawing him to her lap. No, she easily sank against him, looping her arm around his neck, leaning back against him, seamlessly molding against his body. "You never told me."

Riley turned to him, her cheek brushing his, eyelashes fluttering across his cheek. Her eyebrows quirked up, eyes widening almost imperceptivity but giving an air of curiosity. "Never told you what?" Zack felt his heart soar—trying his hardest not to focus on how it affected his whole body—enjoying the way her deeper, accented voice reached his ears so cleanly.

"What the topic was. Why you wanted me to pose for you."

Riley lifted her eyebrows. "Mm. Does it matter?"

"No." Zack slid his hand into her hair, gently running his fingers through the silky strands. He looked up at her, taking in her dark blue eyes and her long eyelashes. He could see every freckle on her cheeks, rounding over her nose, and every fleck of brown in her eyes.

Zack leaned forward and closed the gap between them. He slowly moved his lips against hers, holding her head gently, almost cradling it in his grasp, the other moving up to cup her chin. He held her close for several seconds, radiating in the warmth of her body against him. Remind him that she chose him over everyone else; able to see past every insecurity with a snarky comment and a patient—bordering on impatient at the worst of times-dose of reality and vice versa.

Zack's breathing slowed as he pulled back from the kiss. He stopped and stared at her eyes.

Her intense eyes.

He had a feeling he knew which one she chose.

"Hey," Riley greeted, lips pulling back into a dazzling smile.

Zack's lips tugged back. "Hey," he replied.

The End