Summary: It's 4 AM and definitely time for a certain artist to go to sleep. Maybe hearing it from a superhero will convince him to.
Author's Notes: Oh Queen Bee. Did you really help in the end since he stayed up an extra hour for you? Well, at least tomato son eventually did go to sleep. This is for miraculousfluffmonth's Day 7 prompt!
(Also, guess who went back to work and is currently in a state of DYING?)
Nathaniel rubbed his eyes. He'd been working on a new painting since about ten o'clock last night; long after he kissed his mother good-night and told her he was going to bed. A quick glance told him it was late. Er… early. He had to bite back a groan when he saw the flashing numbers of 4:00 on his digital clock. He stretched. Good thing it was the weekend and he didn't have to go to school today. The image had burned in his mind since Monday. He'd dreamed it, suffocated in it. It demanded to be let out. So, late on Friday night, he did; releasing it in swirls of warm colors accented in black.
His mom was going to kill him but it was so worth it.
He stood from his stool for a moment, taking a break, quietly sneaking out of his room to get some water before sliding back in to stare at the picture. It had one occupant on it. Paris' newest hero, Queen Bee. The background was abstract, swirls of reds and oranges with accenting lines of black. It wasn't bad. It wasn't near done though.
There was a lot more work to do and once he finished his drink, he sat the cup on a side table, before he rolled up his sleeves again and sat down to get started.
A knock at his window startled him. He dropped his paint brush with a soft clatter, panicking that his mother had heard but when he didn't hear any movement, he sighed, stooping over to pick it up. He turned to the window and nearly dropped it again. Hovering outside, dressed in her signature yellow and black outfit, was Queen Bee, the very person he was currently painting. He panicked for real this time, scrambling for any nearby cloth to quickly throw over it before he went to the window, sliding it open with a breathy, "Queen Bee! Wh-What a surprise!" She eyed him up and down. Crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow. He blushed. When a few minutes passed, she grunted out, "Well? Are you going to invite me in?" He blinked before stepping out of the way. She flew in, landing quietly on his floor. He shut the window as she looked around.
Nathaniel's room was messier than she expected; paint brushes and paint were everywhere as were several used art easels with different, unfinished works on them, and sketches of all kinds decorated practically every wall there was to see except for a small space that had a series of photos on it. Nathaniel with his mom, she guessed. Him with the class. Candids that looked to have been taken by a certain Ladyblogger. Backstage pics of him working on the set designs when the class did some Shakespeare play a month ago. Surprisingly, there was even one of her. She narrowed her eyes. Not current her-her but civilian her-her. It looked like it was taken without her knowledge; she was talking on the phone, about what she couldn't remember, but it seems that she was… genuinely smiling. She'd never seen her face so soft before. It was… rather beautiful but only a blind man would miss that. He cleared his throat, "So, how can I help you Queen Bee?" She snapped around, slightly surprised by his voice. Oops.
"You can help me by telling me why you're up at four AM on a Saturday instead of sleeping in like most people." He raised an eyebrow.
"What about you?" She waved a hand.
"I'm a superhero. If Hawkmoth won't sleep then neither will I. But you," she jabbed him in the shoulder, "are a civilian who needs to rest. So I'll ask again: why are you up?" A raging blush took his nose and her eyes darted over to the painting he'd covered. He saw her eyes though. In near perfect synchronization, they lunged for it, him to stop her and her to find the secret, but she was just a bit faster thanks to her miraculous. She yanked the cloth off. She froze. Nathaniel jumped in front, trying to cover it but failing miserably. "Did you… Did you paint that?"
Cripes. She saw. He swallowed, messing with the neckline of his shirt and looking anywhere but at her, "Y-yeah. I couldn't get it out of my mind. It's been bothering me all week so I finally decided to do something about it. So I started painting last night and I worked all night on it and…."
He was rambling.
God, smite him now.
God didn't answer of course. Instead, Queen Bee did, gently pushing him aside so she could see it perfectly. Her eyes went wide; she'd seen some of his work before, how well he'd done Marinette when he'd drawn her, but this was… this was true art. It stole her breath. She could practically feel the warmth and love radiating off of it and it amazed her at how heroic she looked through someone else's eyes. She started to run her fingers over it but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her and drawing her eyes to his face. They were soft.
"It's not dry," he warned. "You'll smear the lines and ruin your outfit." She snatched her hand back, glad her mask covered her cheeks.
"Right. Sorry." She looked at it again, then him, then it. "When will it be done?" He rubbed his eyes.
"If I keep going…."
"After you sleep."
"Then tomorrow night." He paused. "Why?" She smiled.
"Because it's a wonderful painting and I want to buy it off of you."
"I'm not selling." She crossed her arms.
"And why not?"
"It's not even that good."
"Good is a perception of the eyes."
"It's not perfect."
"Nothing is."
"It's…." She raised a finger to silence him. Nathaniel blinked at the black digit on his lips. Oh man. He seriously wanted to kiss it.
"I love it Nathaniel," she assured him. "And I would love to own it. I'm willing to pay for it. Just name your price." He sighed, taking her hand and pulling it off of his lips, holding it waist high.
"Fine. You want my price?"
"Yes," she breathed.
He started to lean in. Her face paled. Did he want a kiss? Was that going to be his payment? Her very first kiss? She closed her eyes and waited for the sensation of lips on lips but it never came; instead, he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "I want you to go home and go to bed." She blinked, staring at him confused as he leaned back with a cocky smirk on his lips. She glared. Queen Bee smacked him in the shoulder.
"I'll only go if you do! No more working on this until you've at least gotten 8 hours."
"I can't promise that," he waged a finger. "My mother might need me sooner than that."
"Fine, at least five hours of sleep." He chuckled softly.
"That I can do." She wrung her hands in front of her, looking to the floor.
"Can- Can I come back tomorrow night?"
He smiled. "My house is your house. You're welcomed to visit whenever you'd like." She snickered.
"Don't think this is a regular occurrence artist-boy." She walked to the window, pushing it open before stepping on the ledge and out, the magic helping her to float. "Get to bed. I'll expect you to keep your promise!" He leaned his head on the sill, waving a hand. "Bonne nuit Nathaniel." She took off.
"Bonne nuit," he whispered to the darkness, "my queen." When she was out of sight, he closed the window, chuckling to himself as he realized that she hadn't asked to come back for the painting specifically; it made his heart swell and helped him fall asleep almost instantly when he finally collapsed on his bed.
It was five AM.
