Francis had to decide what to do in regards to the little fae. What did they eat? Where would he sleep? And what to do to cover the boy? It was shockingly more difficult than he thought. His decision to get a pet was suddenly changing through this.

Ivan was fluttering around the painting in process, eyes scanning the bright colours, and fingers trailing the canvas. It had a strong scent, but not one similar to flowers. It made his nose wrinkle.

"Ivan, come here please." Francis called from another room and Ivan blinked in response.

Curiously he flitted toward the sound and entered a room filled with scents. It was a kitchen, but all he noticed were flowers in the window, the bright copper utensils, and the bowl of fruit on the counter. Francis had rolled his sleeves up, his hair pulled back in a tie, and stirred some batter in a large bowl. Ivan grew curious again as the man placed it on the counter. There were red, purple, and blue shapes within.

"Berries!"

"Yes. You said you had burned your hands trying to get some from a pie. I'll make something easier to eat and a little less warm."

Ivan smiled and settled on the counter, eyes fixed on the man, and he found himself content. In a single day he had left the field and come to this human world. The elders spoke of the cruelty of man, but here amongst the villains was a saint. Perhaps life wasn't some simple black and white.

"Francis, why is it you don't stare at me? I must be odd to you."

"You are a sight to behold, Ivan, but it's rude to stare." It had taken him a moment to respond, but his answer had remained pleasant to Ivan.

"But I'm staring at you." The fae responded childishly, moving to lay on his back, eyes still directed to the man.

"Yes, you are. What is it that you're curious about, Ivan?"

Oh, what was he curious about? There was so very much in this man's way of looking that made Ivan want to understand. And his world here- it was so different from what he knew!

"Why is it you keep cotton on your skin? Do humans always remain cold?"

"Cotton… you mean my shirt? No, no! It isn't that!" Francis laughed as he got a glass pie plate from a cabinet. "We wear clothes to cover our forms. For us it's indecent to be nude in front of others."

"In…decent?" Ivan thought for a moment, nibbling his lower lip as he sat up, and he felt his nakedness for the first time. The child darted and hid behind the fruit bowl, face red, and he gave a whine. Francis finished pouring the batter into the plate and slid it into the refrigerator, gently closing the door behind him.

"Oh, Ivan, it's all right. I'm not offended. I'll be drawing you as you naturally are, so don't be ashamed."

"But I'm indecent! You said so!" The fae called from behind the bowl, eyes looking for something to hide himself with.

"I didn't say you were, Ivan. I was explaining why we humans do it. Let me draw you, dear. I'll think of how to cover you after, all right?"

Ivan had given in to the soft sound and followed Francis to the larger room with the table. As he looked around he saw very little furniture in this room. Many canvases and shelves of art utensils lined the walls. Not much for his personality except fields painted across the walls and blue skies over the ceiling. Francis had settled on a stool and Ivan turned to look at him.

"Just settle there on the table. Sit however you'd like. No doubt you need to rest."

Ivan had nodded and curled in on himself, knees drawn to his chest as he studied the window. The blue eyes were focused on him for no more than three seconds at a time, flicking back to the canvas to trail the pencil again. Ivan wasn't one to sit still, Francis mused to himself, as he fidgeted with his long fingers. It wasn't much harder than drawing a child, but sometimes it could be frustrating. Then nature made its magic.

Something outside the window had drawn Ivan's attention. His legs curled beneathe him as he leaned forward, eyes wide with wonder, and his lips parted just enough. Francis frantically worked to catch this moment, hair falling loose from his tie as he did so, and pencil tried to catch light and shadow for colouring later. When Ivan lost sight of the butterfly outside the window he looked to Francis again, smiling brightly.

The man was distracted in his work, eyebrows drawing together as he worked, and his tongue trailed his lower lip from time to time in agreement to the lovely lines he had made. He was too beautiful, Ivan thought for a moment, as he watched the man work. Not a single fae would be able to resist him. There was an energy about him the fae felt he could drink up.

Time traveled on and neither man was sure how long it had been since the pencil had been first lifted. With a satisfied smile Francis set the draft down and looked to Ivan. With a gesture of his head he expected the fae to follow. Ivan gave a sound and spread his wings, but had to pause just a moment to look. Was that him? He had never seen all of him at once. His face grew hot and he wanted to cover himself. That couldn't be him. He wasn't that pretty. In a storm he flew after Francis and tugged a strand of his hair. The man laughed and turned to look at the flustered fae who, by this point, had tears in his eyes.

"You have to do it again! It's not like the flowers! It's not a reflection! You have to try again!"

"Ivan, why? What's wrong with it?" Francis smiled gently, confused at the boy's insistence. He liked this one, personally, and would rather not redo it.

"It's too pretty, Francis. It can't be right." Ivan bit his lip and laced his fingers together.

Francis smiled with understanding, his hand extending out to the fae. The trembling thing settled onto his palm, fiddling with his hands, and Francis gave a sound to draw his gaze.

"I drew the pretty thing I saw, Ivan. It's real. What you saw is you. If you find yourself pretty then please, by all means little one, enjoy yourself. You're beautiful."

He settled the fae onto his shoulder and went to draw the treat from the fridge. The pie plate was settled onto a counter and a slice was made. On a small saucer he placed the treat and took a spoon to enjoy a bite.

"Go ahead, Ivan. These berries won't burn you."

Ivan went to the treat and touched it. He jumped at the slight chill, but took a small handful to test it. It was sweet! Much like nectar in its sugars. The berries were nice too!

"What is this, Francis?"

"Cheesecake. It's a cooler treat than a pie. I think the cold will help your hands too."

Ivan giggled and ate, fascinating Francis with every bite. It was amazing how much a fae could eat. He didn't expect them to be able to old so much in. Then again, this one was just a hint rounder than typical fae folk. Francis laughed quietly to himself, eyes bright as he watched his muse. How to convince the boy to stay longer than a day would be his focus. It wasn't as though he'd harm him. No, not his little fae! Yet he needed this boy for motivation. If he didn't have this chance for some reason, why take it at all?

"Francis, what is it?" Ivan had moved to his hand again, his smaller ones touching Francis' thumb gently.

"I was thinking of how lucky I was that Jocelyn chased you here."

"Lucky? No, not at all! I was so afraid!"

"I wouldn't have seen such magic like you had he not."

Ivan smiled so broadly that Francis found himself doing the same. He carried the little fae as he walked off to the bathroom. The claw foot bath filled with steaming water and scents frothed within it. Ivan sat on the edge and watched the bubbled as Francis removed his shirt. His skin was lightly coated in golden hair, his chest and stomach trimmed to keep from being too coated, and even the hair above his genitals was neatly contained. Ivan heard the steps of the man draw closer and turned to gaze at him. Only a short while before this he had discovered the shame of his own nakedness. Now he discovered the wonders of another person's naked form.

Francis was delicate, but toned, and he marveled at the curves for each muscle. His body was so different and similar. The man arched and lifted a leg, stepped into the bath nimbly, and slowly disappeared. The water rose to his chest, hiding him from Ivan's prying gaze, and the fae sulked for a moment. Yet the man began to speak again. He explained electricity, what they ate, how clothes varied, and simple things of day to day life for men. Ivan hung at the end of each word, his curiosity piqued beyond his usual limits, and the world grew broader than the field.

Francis ran a loofa across his skin, unabashedly touching all parts despite Ivan's eyes fixed on his movements, and he sighed at the feel.

"Ivan, there's still just a bit longer before night falls. What would you like to do?" His head rest against the tub, eyes sliding closed, and he heard Ivan give a sound in thought.

"I'm not quite sure. You spoke of music and how it's different here for you humans. We have pipes and our hands for sounds. The elders sing the stories for us. Your music comes from boxes?"

Francis laughed and smiled brightly at the fae as he left the bath. Ivan let his breath trail across his lips slowly as he watched the water run down in streams across the skin. Beads carved pathways through the thickets of hair and he felt a sudden warmth.

"Come along then, Ivan. Let me show you." Francis nodded the fae to follow the him to his bedroom where he gestured to what looked like a dresser. He lifted the top to show a black disk and speaker. An old Victrola record player, kept in charmingly good condition, and ready to sing with an old static sound from a time of war when Ivan's field of flowers couldn't grow. The nude blonde carefully set a disk on the tray and placed the needle on the edge. He took the brass crank in hand and spun it to start the machine. Ivan was alarmed by the sudden burst of sound, but it was so amazing. So many different noises created the music and Francis sang with it as he threw on a silk robe.

"Francis, you spoke of dancing. Show me how you dance." The fae's wings fluttered as he tilted his head and asked gently.

Francis smiled sweetly and pretended to have a partner. His arms extended out to hold a woman as he swept across the room in ballroom fashion. Ivan giggled and clapped his hands, watching and swinging his feet. As he watched Francis dance across the room he felt a sudden desire to dance with him. To be the one he was holding. His face grew warm and he wondered why his throat seemed dry. His heart thrummed loudly as he wished the music wouldn't stop. In his heart he wished the music was magical like it sounded- and that it would make him big for this world so much larger than his own.

This big world which had his visionary- Francis.

Author's note: I'm considering drawing Ivan to display just how darned cute he is as a fae. I admit that after the last fic this one is certainly uplifting. I hope you all enjoyed this installment. See you all next time!