GENRE: Modern AU, Humour, SLASH
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.

WARNINGS: Ridiculously shy/slightly perverted Merlin. And boy on boy love here - don't like, don't read!

Summary: In which Merlin is an awkward and clumsy art student, and Arthur is his nude model. Enough said XD


Artistic Impression

Arthur slunk into the art room far faster than was entirely appropriate. He kept his head down and stared determinedly at his shuffling feet, wishing for once that he didn't have bright blond hair, that made it almost impossible for him to be even remotely inconspicuous. He would just have to pray that nobody he knew was in the nearby vicinity, or failing that, threaten them with bodily harm if they ever revealed the reason behind his presence there.

It wasn't as though he was ashamed per se. He was a Pendragon, and Pendragon's didn't get ashamed, at least according to his father. But he'd really rather that nobody found out about his new part-time job. Ever. Or he'd simply have no choice but to kill them, which was something he wasn't particularly keen on doing, considering he'd probably be prime bait in jail.

Banishing the murderous thoughts quickly from his mind, he pushed through the cluster of assembling art students, unable to look any of them in the eye. He merely scanned them swiftly, taking in the ink-marred hands and the scruffy dungarees the majority of them seemed to be wearing. One was even sporting a neckerchief.

Shaking his head in almost rueful manner, he finally spotted the teacher, stood on the far side of the room, sorting out oil pastels. He approached him with mounting dread, and stopped uncomfortably at his side.

"Um…hi," Arthur began, in a nervous tone completely unlike himself. "I'm Arthur Pendragon. The new model."

The teacher - Alan Davies, apparently - looked up and blinked, eyes skimming from the top of Arthur's head, down to his toes. "You're the model?" the middle-aged man squawked, taken aback.

Arthur looked down at himself, unsure of how to take the teacher's surprise. "Yes," he sniped, nervousness evaporating, instantly replaced by irritation. He may not be a professional model, but he certainly wasn't ugly.

"I'm sorry," Davies muttered, tapping Arthur's arm lightly, evidently realising he's offended him. "Don't take it the wrong way, but you're unlike the models we usually have."

Arthur frowned, crossing his arms. "What do you mean?"

Davies flushed slightly, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, you're all…young…and lithe…"

Arthur stared, saying nothing. Because really, how on earth was he supposed to respond to that?

"Well, anyway," Davies said a second later, rallying himself, "You sit up here." He pointed to a platform in the middle of the room, surrounded by easels. "And all you've got to do is stay still as possible for the whole hour."

"Right," Arthur nodded, glad he'd be lounging on what looked like a loveseat, rather than standing.

"There's a cloakroom there, for you to take your clothes off, and a robe hung up on the door. Put it on and you'll de-robe when you get back in here." Davies seemed to have recovered from his initial shock and was talking rapidly, waving the art students down into their seats.

"Right, so…completely naked, right?" Arthur asked, unable to keep the anxiousness from creeping into his voice, despite his best efforts. It wasn't as though he was nervous about his body, it was just that nobody - let alone a room full of students - had studied him naked so intently before. It was certainly going to be an experience.

"That's correct," Davies replied. "Don't worry, everyone in this class is professional. It's all for artistic purposes."

Arthur very much doubted that, but didn't contradict him. "And when will I get my money?" he asked, clinging onto the thought of his payment, because it was the only silver lining in the whole fiasco. He certainly didn't have any dignity left.

"After the hour is over," the teacher responded.

Nodding his head and feeling clear in what he was doing, Arthur headed into the cloakroom, quickly shredding his shirt and jeans. After some deliberation he finally wriggled out of his boxers and tossed them onto a messy pile, taking in a deep long breath to calm his stuttering heart.

He wrapped the soft white robe around his body and stalked straight back into the art room, before he could really think about what he was about to do and change his mind. Arthur Pendragon was not afraid of anything, no matter what his pounding heart was telling him.

The students were all seated now, perched around their easels and chatting quietly, evidently waiting for his arrival. Their paints and pencils were all scattered on the tables next to them, a reminder to Arthur that it was only art, and not a sleazy lap dance - despite what it felt like.

"Right, everyone," Davies called, instantly reducing the rumbling chatter to silence. "We have a new nude model today. Get yourself comfortable on the loveseat, Arthur."

Arthur cringed at the use of his name, but moved forward, up and onto the platform. He felt twenty eyes watching him, and heard the quiet hum of surprised whispers, although he couldn't pick out any specific words. He gazed up over the tops of their heads and sat down on the cushioned prop, attempting to appear as comfortable and nonchalant as possible.

Davies approached him, quietly instructing him about what position to get into and where to place his various limps. Arthur nodded in assent, barely listening, and only just caught the order to remove his robe.

"Right, everyone ready?" Davies asked, clapping his hands together. He moved back off the platform and down behind the easels. "You can de-robe now Arthur, and get into the position we just discussed."

Attempting to refrain from letting out a nervous snort at the suggestiveness of the middle-aged man's words, he climbed to his feet, slowly undoing the sash. He let out a deep breath and pushed the robe from his shoulders, letting it puddle onto the floor, revealing his naked body to his audience.

He heard a few unsuppressed gasps, and fought the urge to roll his eyes. So much for them being professional art students. But it still didn't stop him from looking down at them curiously, wanting to witness their reactions for himself.

Most of the girls had their mouths hanging open in a way that made him glad he'd gone to the gym the day before, and the teacher's eyebrows were disappearing into his hairline, in a way that was mildly disturbing. But it wasn't them that Arthur really noticed. His attention was drawn to one of only two men in the class (excluding Davies), who was staring at Arthur in wide-eyed astonishment, a deep pink flush riding up his cheeks.

He looked to be around twenty - Arthur's own age - and had pale translucent skin and messy black hair. He was quite pretty looking, if one ignored his abnormally large ears, and in a quirky and interesting way. Arthur had never really been attracted to arty types before, but the guy's innocently gob-smacked expression was so cute, Arthur could barely contain a gleeful grin.

Maybe naked modelling would be fun after all.

Cheered at the thought, Arthur led back against the loveseat, arranging his body into the agreed position. He flexed his muscles and stretched his arms, watching the staring man out of the corner of his eye. The guy gulped, Adam's apple bobbing down his long white throat.

Arthur grinned.

"Neutral expression please, Arthur," Davies called, spoiling his triumph.

"Sure, sorry," he replied, settling down comfortably, suddenly wondering what he had been so worried about. After all, he was getting paid to just lounge around on a loveseat, something which he spent countless evenings doing anyway - although, admittedly, not usually naked.

"Ok, everybody," Davies called. "You may begin."

Arthur could hear the scrabbling of pencils and paints more than he could see it, eyes fixed determinedly on opposite wall, just past the dark-haired man's head. It was a position that allowed him to spy on his admirer without appearing to do so, watching him through his peripheral vision.

But the man still hadn't moved, eyes following the lines of Arthur's naked body with almost an embarrassed intensity. His face was a deep scarlet now, arms left hanging limply by his sides.

"Merlin!" Davies cried, causing the dark-haired man to leap in surprise. He had evidently noticed the artist's lack of response too. "What are you doing? Get painting."

Arthur choked back a laugh, watching the guy - Merlin - blush even deeper, if such a thing was even possible, scrambling to pick up his pencils. He looked up at Arthur, caught his gaze, and looked straight back down, tilting his head so it was obscured by his easel, although the blond could still see the redness of his ears.

He began sketching, obviously drawing the outline, head peaking out from behind his canvas to glance at the model's body. He was careful not to catch Arthur's gaze, or look at him for more than a few seconds at a time, expression nervous and jittery.

It took over ten minutes for Merlin to calm down and really absorb himself in his work, no longer caring if he stared for longer than a second. He seemed to be working from the bottom upwards, gaze focused on Arthur's legs before rising to his thighs and hips. It was only when he got to the crotch area, that his adorable discomfort became evident once more. His gaze was calm and cool, but the bright blush glowing on his cheeks gave away that he wasn't quite as composed as he seemed.

Arthur found it strange that strangers were gazing at intimate parts of his body, but after the initial surprise had worn off, they all seemed to be sketching and painting in a professional manner. The only person that the blond could see was still affected was Merlin, who must have noticed that Arthur was watching him and was doing everything to avoid his eyes. The blond found it quite endearing, and was somewhat flattered that he was making the dark-haired man so obviously flustered.

Trying to keep a smug smile off his face, Arthur decided to see what kind of reactions he could get from the awkward art student, out of boredom more than anything else. After all, there was only so long he could look in one direction, unmoving.

He waited until Merlin's gaze finally drew up his neck and onto his face, before he put his plan into action. Trying to appear subtle and not alert the art teacher, he looked down at Merlin, directly into his eyes. The student blinked and looked back at his easel, biting his lip.

But Arthur carried on staring, waiting for Merlin to look back at him. When he finally did, a couple of minutes later, the blond winked, causing the dark-haired man's eyes to widen comically. He gawked at Arthur with his new paintbrush poised above his canvas, looking as though he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Taking advantage of the fact that he had Merlin's attention, the blond kicked it up a notch, opening his mouth slightly and licking his lips. The student's gaze dropped to his mouth, gaping slightly, expression dazed.

There wasn't really much more Arthur could do without moving, but he threw caution to the wind and tilted his hips, under the pretence of rearranging himself. There was a general grumbling from the students over his slight change in position, but it was worth it, for Merlin had squelched paint all over his work, eyes glued to the movement of Arthur's hips.

"Merlin!" chastened Davies, glancing at the paint smudged over the student's easel. "Focus! You're ruining your work."

Merlin blushed and ducked his head, looking completely humiliated. He went about trying to fix the damage he had done to his painting, eyes lowered.

Feeling slightly guilty and a little bit sorry for the dark-haired man, Arthur vowed to behave himself, no matter how fun it was to watch Merlin glow various shades of red. He settled himself in his position and gazed at the wall behind the art student's head, waiting less than patiently for the rest of the hour to go by.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Merlin sweat it out, dabbing his forehead with his dark red neckerchief. Arthur contained the urge to roll his eyes, silently cursing that the dark-haired man was sporting such a crime to fashion. But although the item of clothing was nothing short of hideous, Arthur could admit that it seemed to suit Merlin, who was the same sort of cute and quirky. And besides, the blond was sure he could think of various activities where he could use the neckerchief, which might just help change his feelings towards it…

It was daydreams of tying Merlin to his bed with his neckerchief that kept Arthur occupied for the rest of the hour, secretly wondering what kisses and caresses would make the student flush with pleasure. The blond found himself unexplainably curious, and determinedly vowed to find out.

Finally, after what seemed like a century, Davies called that the hour was up, and handed Arthur back his robe.

Blinking himself out of his glazed musings, Arthur wrapped the cloth around himself and staggered to his feet, feeling as though he'd just woken from a 12 hour sleep.

The students were already packing up their tools, chatting quietly, and fussing over each others work. Merlin however, seemed to be trying to finish something off, paintbrush fluttering over his canvas, despite the fact Arthur had already moved.

Quickly deciding to put some clothes back on before he confronted him, the model dived back into the changing rooms, dressing almost as fast as he could strip.

Ten seconds later, fully clothed, he toed on his shoes and flattened his hair, flicking his fringe out of his eyes. He wanted his face to be fully visible if he was going to approach Merlin, prepared to bat his eyelashes and flash his teeth for all he was worth.

He emerged back into the art room less than a minute after he entered, and found Merlin exactly where he had been moments before, fussing by his easel.

He walked up behind him, as silent as possible, eager to see how the art student had depicted him.

What he saw took his breath away.

The painting was bright and vivid, strong lines and deep shadows. Burnt oranges and deep gold's made up the colour of Arthur's skin, making his body glow against the paler background, limbs long, lithe and powerful. His hair was carefully mussed, surrounding his head in a golden halo, shining off an unseen source of light. Even his eyes were noticeable, a deep glittering blue, warm and crinkled, friendly in a way Arthur never knew he could accomplish.

He looked…stunning. Even if he did say so himself.

"Wow," Arthur muttered, unable to stop himself, "That's really amazing."

Merlin let out a high-pitched yelp and jumped in surprise, almost toppling straight into his easel, arms flailing and feet fumbling. He grasped the side of his table in order to remain upright, but met Arthur's gaze with wide round eyes, cheeks glowing scarlet.

"Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you," Arthur said, being generous.

Merlin blinked and let out a weak chuckle, wringing his hands. "No, i-it's my fault. Clumsy idiot," he cringed, looking even more embarrassed by his stuttered words.

It made Arthur smile.

"I'm Arthur," he said unnecessarily, wanting to be polite. "But I guess you already knew that."

Merlin dipped his head into a few quick nods. "And I'm Merlin. But I guess you already knew that too."

Arthur grinned, flashing his rows of shiny white teeth. "Yeah," he said, startling the dark-haired man out of rather glazed staring. "I just wanted to tell you how much I liked your painting."

"Oh," Merlin mouthed, looking surprised, but pleasantly so. "Thanks."

"You really think I look like that?" Arthur asked, glancing back at the canvas, genuinely curious. He was usually quite happy with what he saw in the mirror every day, but the way Merlin had sketched him was on a whole other level. He looked long, sculpted and flawless, something Arthur was fairly sure he was not.

But Merlin appeared confused by his question. "You do," he insisted, before blushing at the admission.

"Well, then…thanks," Arthur smiled, causing Merlin's gaze to skitter away. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, looking down at his hands in an adorably shy way, which had Arthur itching to touch him.

"Well, I better…" Merlin said after a moment's pause, gesturing wildly to the door. Most of the students had filed out now, leaving Davies gazing at paintings on the other side of the room.

"Wait," Arthur cried, just as the dark-haired man began to shuffle away. He smiled in what he hoped was an attractive manner, meeting Merlin's eyes and getting straight to the point. "Do you want to go out for drinks with me sometime?"

Merlin blinked, before his expression morphed into one of twisted amusement, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Yeah, very funny…" he choked, voice several decibels higher than it had been moments before, posture no longer shy, but strangely defensive. "I mean, I know I was drooling all over you and it might have made you uncomfortable, but you don't have to be mean about it."

It was Arthur's turn to blink, brow furrowing. "I'm not being mean about it. I thought it was cute." Even Arthur was surprised by his blunt admission, but was nowhere near as shocked as the art student.

Merlin's mouth opened slightly, just as soon as he read the honesty in Arthur's expression. "Oh…" he said faintly, looking back down at the ground, cursing under his breath. He glanced back up after a moment's hesitation, biting his lip, face hopeful. "Really?"

Arthur nodded, gazing at the pinkness of the artist's mouth.

"So, you," Merlin gave him a brief jerk of the head, "really do want to go out for drinks…with me?" His face scrunched, nose wrinkling, still slightly disbelieving.

"Yeah…" the blond replied slowly, beginning to wonder whether Merlin was mentally challenged. Cute, but mental challenged.

"Sorry," the dark-haired man shrugged, looking bashful, although a pleased smile was curving at his lips. "I guess I'm not used to good-looking nude models asking me out."

Arthur shrugged. "It happens." Well, it did to him. He'd dated a number of models over the last few years, but none appeared to have any of Merlin's awkward charm. "So…is that a yes?"

Merlin flushed, nodding his head vigorously. "Oh, yes! Of course. Sorry!" He gave Arthur a blinding smile, one that created dimples in his cheeks and left the blond slightly breathless. If you looked past the ears, he really was quite stunning.

"Tomorrow? At eight?" Arthur questioned, cocking an eyebrow and causing Merlin to bop his head in assent. "Bar Comfi?"

"I'm not very good in bars," Merlin admitted shyly, looking back down at the ground.

Arthur grinned, leaning forward until his breath was fanning across the artist's face.

"Don't worry," he said lowly, as Merlin licked his lips subconsciously. "We can go back to mine. And if you like, maybe I can get naked for you for a different reason."

Merlin's eyes almost popped out of his head, mouth opening invitingly.

Really, Arthur thought happily, maybe this new job wasn't so bad after all. Who needed dignity anyway?

-END-


A/N Um, pointless fluff is pointless? This is a one-shot I wrote a couple of years ago, and thought I would post. Please R&R! :)