April 28th, 2014 - Define Art

AUTHOR: iggycat

April 28th, 2014 - Define Art

"Alfred, go away. I'm writing."

"Sure, if you consider staring at a computer screen for hours writing."

Arthur turned around with a glare, though it was relatively difficult to look intimidating while swiveling around in a spiny chair. He lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose and stared, unimpressed, at his boyfriend.

"I'm thinking. That's half of the artistic process," he started, then swiveled back around. "Not that you'd know anything about art."

"I know about culinary arts," Alfred said, undeterred, as he moved a manuscript aside and sat down on Arthur's desk. He picked up a pen and placed it atop his upper lip in an attempt to balance it. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Alfred, following the directions on the back of a box of cake mix does not make you an expert on culinary arts."

"No? What about that Cheeto-splosion I made for our Super Bowl party last year?" Alfred said with a grin, as the pen keeled over and fell to the floor. Arthur leant over and picked it up.

"Firstly, that was your Super Bowl party, and secondly, that artificial cheese disaster could not have been further from the definition of art." He poked his boyfriend on the cheek with the butt of his pen. "Now do get out, love. I've been in a rut and I really need time to think."

"Alright," Alfred acquiesced with a soft smile as he slid off the desk. "I wouldn't want to interrupt the flow of your artistic genius." He brushed a few strands of Arthur's hair behind his ear and bent down to press a kiss to his forehead. Alfred moved down his boyfriend's face, from his forehead, to the tip of his nose that precariously balanced his lover's glasses, to the man's right cheek, then left, and ultimately came to his lips where he lingered. When he lent up again, Alfred had the usual dopey grin on his face. "Though, I am gonna have to stop you soon. Dinner's in an hour."

Alfred winked, and as he took a step back, toward the door, Arthur suddenly stood and reached for his wrist.

"Alfred," he started, as the man turned around perplexed. "I was wrong. You might know a thing or two about art."

"Really?" Alfred asked, his eyebrows rising to hide amongst his golden bangs.

"Yes," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes once more as he lifted a hand to Alfred's fringe and mimicked the motion his boyfriend had taken earlier, leaning up on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to the man's forehead. When Arthur pulled away, he was wearing Alfred's smile. "You seem to know your way around the art of kissing."