Minghao wasn’t sure when the black void of hopelessness had started to hover just beyond the canvas. A darkness had always been there-since university, or maybe high school-tapping at his shoulder and tugging at his sleeves, waiting for the right moment to slither over his shoulders and invade his hands and heart and head. He knew from his university days that it took a long time to push the darkness away again; to force his hands to move like he wanted them and to make his mind focus on his passion. But he’d been doing better: he was selling now, after all, and that was enough to make the black turn to a green that could force ideas to flow onto his canvases. Day after day, he’d worked until his fingers cramped and his eyes crossed, painting in a blur of faces and scenery and colors until one day he woke up and he was floating among unusable canvases stained in self-doubt, covered in paint he couldn’t use.

And he couldn’t escape. He was stuck, staring down at his pallet for hours at a time until he felt he might drown in the stark white canvas. A deadline nagged at the back of his head as the hopelessness numbed his fingers and settled heavy on his heart, dragging the circles under his eyes deeper with every of uncertainty it painted. The cluttered studio fell into disarray, and Minghao wondered if he was falling with it with every failed attempt to do his job.

“You should have been a poet,” Mingyu told him through the cellphone, his loud voice leaving a slight echo as he spoke. “You sound like my boyfriend Wonwoo right now.” As he spoke, Minghao could hear music and the faint sound of people talking and laughing, living their lives in complete ignorance to the void threatening to swallow him whole.

“Sorry,” he muttered, hating them through his headache despite knowing his hatred was useless. “I didn’t mean to call when you were at work.”

“That’s okay, I was able to step out for a minute. I was worried about you dude. You weren’t answering any of my messages and I know you get all in your head sometimes.” For a moment, Mingyu sounded like the frat boy he was in college, and Minghao was able to smile at the memory.

“You’re right.”

“Hey, listen! I bet you just need to get out of that dark old studio of yours. Why don’t you come down to the bar and get some fresh air and human interaction? I know you haven’t had any of that in a while.”

As much as Minghao hated to admit it, Mingyu was right. It had been a long time since he’d been, well, anywhere. He was a loner by nature, and worse, tended to get into his work for days and weeks on end. Jun, his childhood friend, called them his “art swings” and Mingyu, the only friend he had managed to make and keep in university, had made the phrase stick. Both of them were used to this by now: Jun because he’d known Minghao forever, and Mingyu because he was the most patient person on the planet. Despite his tendency to be loud and annoying, he truly did care. So Minghao sighed and stood from his bed for the first time that day, giving in to the suggestion.

“I’ll come if you promise not to embarrass me, even though I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to get sales at your bar,” he said, rolling his eyes when the other man let out a loud laugh.

“I’ll promise if it gets you out of the house, man! I can’t wait to see you!” On the other line, someone yelled Mingyu’s name and he groaned. “Sorry dude, I have to go. Remember, I promised so you have to come!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’ll see you soon.”

“Awesome! See you then!” With that, the line died, and Minghao brought the phone down to stare at the screen for a moment, contemplating his choice. The bar would inevitably be loud and crowded, but it would also have alcohol and a good chat with Mingyu, Wonwoo, and the cute bartender Hansol. With another sigh, he walked to his bathroom to look into the mirror, only to grimace.

“I look like ,” he told his reflection, staring at his dark circles and the paint in his hair before turning to the shower, frowning to himself. How had he let himself go, especially as the fashion expert he always claimed to be? There was no way he could go out in his current state. It was going to take a lot longer than usual for him to get ready.

-

An hour later, Minghao was finally ready to go out. He had managed to wash and brush all the paint from his hair and now his dark hair was purposefully messy, parted down the middle with the ends curling underneath his cheekbones. No amount of washing could erase the dark circles, but the makeup he always kept in his cabinet for moments just like this did a pretty good job at making him look less like an insomniac. For the first time in a long time, he put thought into what he was going to wear and decided on black skinny jeans and a casual black button down with a white flower and leaf pattern. There was no need to go over the top for Mingyu’s bar, but he put in a pair of his nicer earrings and paired them with a thin silver choker anyway; if he was going out, he might as well make an impression.

The air was warm but a chill breeze ruffled his hair as he locked his door and stepped onto the sidewalk, pulling his phone from his pocket. As usual, the city air was nothing close to clear and clean, but it still felt nice to breath something other than the stale air in his studio, so he took a deep breath and started to walk, shoving his other hand down into his pocket.

“Hello?” Mingyu answered within two rings, as always, his voice hopeful and excited.

“Hey,” Minghao responded, looking up at the moon. “I’m on my way now. It took me a while to get the paint out of my hair. Is there still room for me?”

“There’s always room for you dude!”

“I mean at the bar.”

“Oh, yeah there’s a few open seats at the actual bar top right now but you should probably hurry, we’ve been really busy tonight.”

“Will do. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, I’m so glad you’re getting out of the house!”

Minghao hung up the phone before his best friend could get all sappy on him, but he couldn’t help but smile a bit as he put it away. He was still tired, burnt out, and suffering from art block, but at least he had something to look forward to tonight.

-

The bar, as always, was loud when Minghao opened the door, and he winced a bit at the sound, his headache still lingering despite the medication he’d taken before his shower. After he adjusted to the sound, however, he let the door close behind him and stepped a bit further inside, taking in the scene. Someone who had just turned twenty-one sat with their friends at one of the window tables, already quite wasted with a birthday hat on their head. On the small stage at the far left of the room, two musicians were playing, a man on the guitar and a woman on the keyboard. The music filled the air and a nearby couple were standing and swaying, holding onto each other with one hand and onto their drinks with the other. The place was just as lively as he remembered it from before, and he was happy for Mingyu. It seemed he was still doing well.

Pushing past a group of drunk girls giggling at something on their phones, he made his way up to the bar, smiling when he saw a free seat and Hansol behind the counter.

“Busy night, huh?” He asked as he sat down, and the younger man nodded, looking out over the crowded interior.

“It’s been pretty nonstop,” he said with a smile, “but it would be boring any other way. Do you want a menu?”

“As long as you guys didn’t change anything around, I should be fine.”

“All we changed since the last time you were here are the signature cocktails. But hey, it’s good to see you again. Mingyu said you were having some art trouble or something and that’s why you didn’t come around.”

Minghao let out a sheepish laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck. It was embarrassing when someone else said it aloud. “Something like that.”

“Hey dude!” Mingyu’s loud voice boomed over the music as he slipped back behind the bar, a huge grin on his face. “You made it!”

“I told you I would.”

“Yeah, well, you know how artists are.” As he spoke, he poured a glass of beer, hardly having to look to know how to do it perfectly. It was a learned skill after running a bar for so long. Minghao had to admit that he was a bit jealous. He’d been painting for most of his life, yet he would never be able to paint a canvas as easily as Mingyu could pour a beer or make a cocktail.

“I guess,” he said curtly, before immediately feeling bad. Mingyu was not the person to take his frustrations out on. “Sorry, I think I need a drink more than I thought I did.”

“No problem, I get you. Your regular wine?” Mingyu grinned, holding out his fist, and Minghao smiled back, giving his best friend a fist bump.

“My regular. Thanks.”

“No problem. Let me run this drink and I’ll be right back!”

As he left, Hansol walked back to his spot in front of Minghao, raising his eyebrows as he dried a glass. Double tasking, Minghao guessed. “So, what have you been up to since you were last here?”

“Painting. Work. Questioning my existence. The usual.” The guy sitting next to Minghao shot him a look as he got up, but he ignored him, focusing on Hansol’s soft eyes instead.

“For you? Yeah, kind of.”

“It’s weird, right?”

“A little bit, if I’m being honest.”

“Hey, no bullying allowed!” Mingyu playfully punched Hansol’s shoulder as he passed again, and the younger man laughed. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to call him weird.”

“My hero,” Minghao commented, smiling as he rested his chin on his hand, leaning against the bar. “You solved my bullying problem, now solve my painting problem.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Mingyu said truthfully, sliding a glass of wine onto the bar in front of him. “But I can pour you some wine and order you fries.”

“I guess I’ll just have to be satisfied with that then. Thank you.” Minghao sipped the wine and savored it for a minute before giving the other man a thumb’s up. “It’s perfect as always.”

“Of course it is, I only buy the best for you. You’re the only guy I know who comes to a bar to order wine though.”

“What was that about bullying earlier?”

“Kidding, kidding!” The taller man reached over the bar to pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry man, this will all pass soon enough. You always get through these blocks.”

Technically, he was right. Minghao had gotten through periods of art block before, but he had never experienced a slump like this. In the past he had been able to paint his way through it. He couldn’t do that now, he’d already tried. But he didn’t want to argue, so he just shrugged and sipped at his wine. “I guess you’re right. I think being out with people is helping a bit.”

“I’m always right.” Mingyu turned away, then spun back, clapping his hands together. “Oh! That reminds me, Wonwoo wanted you to meet someone!”

At this, Minghao raised his eyebrows. Wonwoo was a poet and his friends were usually other artists. And if it was another artist, they might be able to help him out of his slump. “He does? Who is it?”

“The guy’s name is Joshua. They met a couple weeks ago and Wonwoo said he thought you would like him.”

“He did?”

“The guy is a music teacher. Another artsy type, you know?” The tall man shrugged. “I like music, but I can’t play the guitar like that guy. I guess the arts are just beyond me.”

“Just like business and people are beyond us artsy types,” Minghao commented, “I doubt any of us could run this bar. Although you were pretty good at art when we took that art appreciation class together.”

“Really? I was just messing around, I didn’t take that class serious at all.”

Minghao chuckled and shook his head. This guy really was good at everything. “Save some talent for the rest of us. Maybe you should give my canvases a shot.”

“No, thank you. I’ll stick to bartending.” Mingyu glanced at his watch, then quickly dried his hands on the towel hanging from the pocket of his jeans. “Oh, let me call up and make sure I catch Joshua before he leaves. I don’t know when I’ll be able to pull you out of your studio again.”

As the tall man walked away, headed back to the door and stairs that led up to his apartment, Minghao brought the glass to his lips and drank slowly, staring down at the bar top. A music teacher, huh? These two were always introducing him to new people. Just a few months ago, he’d met Dino, a young dancer that Mingyu had taken under his wing, and before that, he’d met Seungcheol, Wonwoo’s tattoo artist. Both of them were great people, but he knew that his personality wasn’t for everyone. While they were great to hang out with in the group (when he actually left the house) there wasn’t much communication otherwise. Seungcheol had tried, to his credit, but he seemed overwhelmed whenever Minghao didn’t reply to his texts or answer his calls, so he had lied and said that he wasn’t comfortable talking on the phone. The only friend so far that he had really clicked with was Seungkwan the fashion designer, and that was both because of their love for fashion and their mutual flakiness. He was still a bit too loud for Minghao’s tastes, but the guy was fun to be around.

Maybe he’d give him a call: Seungkwan’s fun personality would probably brighten his spirits a bit.

“The guy we wanted you to meet is right over here!” Mingyu’s loud voice pulled Minghao from his thoughts and he looked up to see his best friend walking around the corner, Wonwoo and another man in tow. As soon as the man stepped out from behind them, a small smile on his perfectly plump and rounded lips, Minghao’s mouth went dry.

His friends had just brought him a model.

“Hello,” the model said, proving that he wasn’t just a piece of Minghao’s hopeful imagination. “I’m Joshua Hong, I teach music at Pledis High. It’s nice to meet you, Wonwoo spoke highly of you.” Joshua’s hair was black and styled down the middle, the ends of his hair touching at the sides of his equally dark and smoky eyes. His skin was tanned, contrasting with the plain white t-shirt that stretched across his chest, showing off the toned muscles underneath, and Minghao could hardly stop himself from staring at the man’s thick arms, almost bursting from the tight sleeve cuff.

“Oh,” Minghao said before snapping back to his senses and putting on a smile, trying to ignore the flip of his stomach as he met Joshua’s eyes. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Minghao, but I guess you already know that. I make art for a living, although I’m not doing much art right now.” Hoping to stop his heart from combusting on the spot, he turned his eyes to Wonwoo, speaking casually. “Hey, Wonwoo. Long time no see.”

“I’m glad to see you, someone wouldn’t shut up about how worried he was.”

“He’s exaggerating,” Mingyu said, bumping his hip against his boyfriend’s as he passed, hands full of drinks to bring to a table. “Why don’t you sit down and grab a drink, Josh? I’ll serve you too, babe.”

“I have to go finish revision; I have a deadline soon. But it was nice seeing you, Minghao. Good luck with your art and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” Wonwoo placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek and waved a hand. “See you again soon, Josh, thanks for coming over!”

“Good luck with revision,” Joshua replied with another smile, and Minghao found himself staring as Wonwoo walked away. How could one man be so perfect? His face was somehow smooth and soft despite his sharp jawline and defined cheekbones, and Minghao had never wanted to draw someone more. As Joshua turned back to face him, the younger man gave him what he hoped was an attractive smile and gestured at the now empty seat next to him.

“Want to grab a drink?” He asked. “Unfortunately, I’ve been kind of holed up for a while, so I haven’t heard anything about you, but I’d like to get to know you a bit more.” This was big for him. His first day interacting with people again and he was inviting a man he didn’t know to have a drink with him. Thankfully, the other man smiled and accepted his offer, gracefully slipping into the empty seat.

“A drink actually sounds nice right now. Hansol?”

“Got it,” called the younger man, not even looking up from the drink he was making, and Joshua turned back to Minghao. God, how was he ever going to get used to that smile?

“So, what would you like to know?”

“Everything,” Minghao replied truthfully, and Joshua laughed, soft and deep.

“Then ask away,” he said, pushing his hair back and making Minghao’s mouth go dry once again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-

Minghao had never in his life spent so much time at a bar. Somehow, time seemed to speed past as he spoke to Joshua, falling deeper and deeper into his dark eyes. He learned about Joshua’s love for music, specifically the guitar, and laughed at the stories he told about the kids he taught, leaning in further as if to encourage Joshua to speak more. At some point, he found himself flirting, and even better, Joshua seemed to reciprocate, his smile growing and his eyes roaming over Minghao’s face as he offered to buy him a drink. At some point, he complimented Minghao’s choker and playfully asked if it was too tight as he reached up to touch it, his fingers brushing against the younger man’s skin and sending shivers down his spine.

But nothing beyond talking happened. When the clock reached past 1am, Joshua explained that he had to go and put his number in Minghao’s phone before standing up. When he put his hand on the other man’s shoulder, saying goodbye, it lingered there for a moment longer than necessary before he smiled and walked away, leaving Minghao to watch him go, his heart pounding in his chest.

“So?” Mingyu’s voice was playful as he leaned over the bar, watching his best friend closely. “Did you like him?”

Minghao swallowed and looked down at the number in his phone, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing, and his fingers itching to draw the face lingering in his memory. “Yeah,” he breathed, a smile coming to his lips as he stood and slid his card against the bar, ready to race back to his supplies as his fingers tapped out a message. “I did.”

Hey Joshua, this is Minghao. It was nice meeting you tonight!

Hey Minghao! It was nice meeting you too, I had fun ;) I look forward to seeing you again!

-

The first thing he did when he got home was grab his sketchbook and pencils before rushing to his desk, desperate to act on this sudden inspiration. His hand and fingers seemed to move on their own, pressing that jawline and those soft lips onto the paper with practiced, yet erratic . When he was done, he took a deep breath and picked up the sketchbook, surveying his work. It was messy yet passionate, and for the first time in a long time, he felt proud as he stared at the face smiling back at him. He didn’t usually do portraits, and he knew he could do better if Joshua was in front of him, but the sketch revealed the heart racing flurry he’d felt while thinking of the man, and a smile came to his lips.

Finally, he’d found inspiration. And when he collapsed into bed, Joshua’s face lingering beyond his eyelids, the black void started to lift off his shoulders.

-

Unfortunately, the rush of courage Minghao had felt at the bar didn’t last. Even though Joshua’s laugh lingered in his mind, making its way into his dreams about those soft lips, when Minghao looked at his phone (or more specifically, the texts from that night) his chest constricted and a million thoughts went through his head. What did Joshua mean? Would it be too forward of him to text first? He was probably busy as a teacher. Did he really have time to hang out and talk to him? Was it really okay for Minghao to get his hopes up like this? Was he being to forward?

His doubts kept him from sending another message, instead forcing him to stare at Joshua’s name and overthink every little detail of their meeting. He wanted nothing more than to sketch and paint the man, but wasn’t that too much to ask of someone he just met? Wouldn’t he find it weird?

Thankfully, Mingyu was there to keep him from falling back into despair.

“I’m pretty sure he wants to see you again if he gave you his number,” Mingyu said through a yawn a few mornings later. In the background, Minghao could hear the sound of breakfast being made, and his stomach rumbled. It had been a long time since he’d had home cooked food: he usually just ordered crappy take-out or ate ramen. “Would you give your number to someone if you didn’t want them to contact you?”

“You’re right.” Minghao felt like he was saying that a lot to his best friend recently. “But I haven’t really been doing much socializing lately, so I’m out of my depth here. Plus, I don’t think I’ve flirted with anyone since college.”

“You really need to get out more often, dude.”

“I’m well aware. Some help, please.”

“Hmm. You just want to see him again, right?” Mingyu cleared his throat before relaying this information to Wonwoo, who was apparently standing nearby. After a moment of muffled conversation, he returned to the phone. “Wonwoo suggested we have a dinner party and invite everyone, including you and Joshua of course. He’s been wanting to have one anyway.”

Minghao thought it over. A home cooked dinner and the chance to see not only Joshua, but all the friends he hadn’t seen in a while? A dinner party sounded great. “That’ll work. I’ve been wanting to see all the other guys too. Will you be able to attend, though? With the bar and everything.”

“I’m the owner, but I still take some days off. I’ll put some extra people on and if they need anything, Hansol knows where to find me.” He could hear the other man’s smile through the phone. “This is going to be so much fun! How about this coming Friday? Are you free?”

“I’m free every day, Mingyu.”

“Oh, right. Then we’ll check with everyone else. Wonwoo will text you the details, sound good?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I appreciate your help.”

“No problem, dude. Anything for my best friend!”

After he hung up the phone, Minghao sat down on his bed and looked around his room, then let out a sigh. The place was a mess, proof of how low he had gotten during this slump. It was definitely no place to bring a guy back to (although he wasn’t very sure he’d be doing that anytime soon) and he ran his hand through his hair, wrinkling his nose at the mess.

Well, if he wasn’t going to use this random push of energy to text Joshua, he might as well put it to use cleaning.

-

Despite the clothes overflowing from his closet, Minghao felt as if he had nothing to wear when he woke up on Friday morning and started to sift through his collection, searching for the perfect outfit. What did one wear to a dinner party? Obviously, he didn’t want to be too casual, but he also knew dressing up too much would make it obvious that he was trying to impress someone. Plus, Seungcheol would probably just show up in a sleeveless shirt and ripped jeans, and that would just make Minghao look out of place in dress clothes. So what could he wear? What was the perfect fit between casual and dressy?

He thought about his outfit while eating breakfast, while showering, and while sketching, until he felt like he might pull his hair out. He had always cared about his appearance, but this was just too much. Since meeting Joshua, his mind had been a mess. He had never felt like this before, not from any of his college crushes, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

Eventually, he found himself sitting in his closet, trying to get his thoughts together. Joshua had liked his choker when they’d first met, so a necklace of some sort was an obvious choice. But outside of the necklace, he had no idea what he wanted to wear. It was too hot for his usual habit of layering, but he didn’t want to just wear a t-shirt either. With a sigh, he shook his head and stood up, randomly grabbing a handful of clothes. He would just try things on until they felt right.

After almost an hour of trying things on, he finally settled on a pair of black jeans (casual, but not too casual) and one of his more artsy baggy button-downs, half the shirt designed with a city scape and the other half plain white. After lightly tucking the front piece of the shirt into his jeans, he left the first two buttons open, showing off a bit of skin and leaving room for his necklace to be visible. The choker he chose this time was white, red, and beaded instead of a chain, matching his shirt better and adding a bit of character to the outfit. Finally, he finished by once again making his hair purposefully “messy” and putting in a few earrings from his vast collection.

By the time he was sliding on his shoes, it was almost time for the dinner party, and he barely had time to grab his bag and slide in his sketchbook and pencils before rushing out the door, not wanting to be fashionably late for the first time in his life.

-

Everyone was already there when he arrived, knocking on the side street entrance instead of going through the restaurant. It was Mingyu who threw open the door and revealed the chatter inside, his smile wide as always as he wrapped his best friend in a tight hug.

“You’re here! I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it!”

“As if,” Minghao scoffed, pushing the taller man off and rolling his eyes. “I just took a while getting ready, that’s all.”

“I can tell. Nice shirt, by the way! We almost match.” Mingyu was wearing a plain white button-down shirt with black jeans, and Minghao snorted out a laugh.

“Well one of us has the change,” he joked, and his best friend just laughed, ushering him inside.

“Sorry, this is the only nice shirt I have. Wonwoo told me I’m not allowed to wear a t-shirt.”

“Remind me to take you shopping sometime so we can fix that.”

“Seungkwan already tried. I almost died when I picked out nothing but casual clothes.”

The both laughed as they climbed the stairs into the apartment. “Sounds like him,” Minghao commented as he followed Mingyu into the living room. Heads turned as they walked in, and he raised a hand in a wave, awkwardly smiling at everyone and trying to pretend his heart didn’t skip a beat when his eyes landed on Joshua. “Hey, everyone. Sorry I’m late.”

“Hao!” Seungkwan jumped from his seat and ran over, pulling him into a hug that he didn’t dare resist, laughing instead as he hugged the smaller man back. “It’s been so long! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I kind of holed myself up in the studio for a while,” Minghao explained, allowing Seungkwan to fuss over him when he pulled away.

“You don’t look as bad as I thought you would.”

“Thanks?”

“I mean that in a good way, don’t worry. At least you still have your sense of fashion! That reminds me, I’m working on a new line of jackets for the fall line and you absolutely must come over and try them on. You’re the only one I trust when it comes to feedback, you know.”

“I do like jackets. Do you have any coming out in orange?”

“As a matter of fact-.”

“The rest of us haven’t seen him in a while either, Seungkwan. Don’t hog him all to yourself,” Dino interrupted, grinning when Seungkwan pouted at him. “Come over and sit down, Minghao. Tell us what you’ve been doing! I thought you disappeared!”

Sheepishly, he laughed and followed Seungkwan over to the couch as Mingyu went to Wonwoo’s side. “I did, kind of. But I’m better now.” His eyes caught Joshua’s and the older man gave him a smile that made his heart do backflips in his chest. Swallowing, he smiled back, nonchalantly choosing the seat next to him. “How is everyone? What have I missed?”

“Seungkwan is pursuing our handsome bartender,” Wonwoo commented, laughing when Seungkwan gave him a glare. “They’re rather cute.”

“Hansol?” Minghao raised his eyebrows, but when he thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. The two of them seemed to complement each other somehow, and he could imagine Hansol’s blush when Seungkwan flirted with him. It was cute. “You have good taste.”

The younger man flushed, but played it off by raising his chin haughtily, pretending to flip his hair. “Only the best for me, of course.” As everyone laughed, he turned his mischievous eyes to Seungcheol. “By the way, our tattoo artist here is head over heels for a makeup artist who probably doesn’t know he exists.”

“Hey! I did his tattoos, of course he knows I exist!”

“Are you sure? Or do you just pine after him while staring across the street into the beauty parlor windows?”

Minghao laughed as his friends began to bicker, but his heart squeezed in his chest and he couldn’t forget that Joshua was sitting right beside him. This time, the man was wearing a long sleeve blue and white striped button down with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and although Minghao thought it was a shame that he couldn’t see his biceps, he still looked amazing. His face was kind and his eyes crinkled as he laughed, apparently already acquainted with everyone there, and Minghao couldn’t stop his heart from beating quickly, no matter how hard he tried. He was anxious and nervous just from sitting beside him, and he wondered how he’d ever be able to ask the other man to sit and model for him if he could hardly look him in the eye.

Taking a deep breath, he scolded himself internally, telling himself to get it together. But when Joshua’s arm brushed against his, he couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through his body, both exciting him and terrifying him at the same time.

-

After a delicious dinner and some drinks, the party ended up back in the living room. This time, though, groups broke off from one another. Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Seungcheol all sat in deep conversation while Dino and Seungkwan talked to Hansol-who’d managed to sneak up during his break-and Jun, who had dropped by to say hello and had ended up getting engrossed in a conversation about dance. Minghao found himself sitting beside Joshua on the loveseat again as soft music played from one of Wonwoo’s many records, sitting the tone even as Minghao felt his heart climbing into his throat. God, it had been too long since he’d liked someone. He felt like he was in high school all over again, crushing on the hot captain of the basketball team. Except he’d never gotten this close to his crush before.

“Have you had any luck with your art?” Joshua asked, and Minghao finally turned to face him, allowing himself to be drawn in by those dark eyes once again.

“A little bit,” he said, carefully, truthfully. “I’ve done some sketching, but no painting. Not yet. How’s your class?”

“Good. Some of the teens still don’t know how to hold the guitar yet but we’re getting better.” Joshua laughed. “I guess not all kids are musically gifted. I’m afraid the guitars are going to get messed up because some of the kids keep accidentally dropping them.”

“Your job sounds a lot harder than mine.” Some of the awkwardness began to dissipate. The older man shrugged.

“I guess that depends on how you look at it. I’m mostly just trying to get teens to like music, but I still get paid even if the kids can’t figure out what chords are or if they don’t cate about my class and sit on their phones instead. My job doesn’t rely on me continuously creating new work like yours does. I think it’s really impressive.”

“Still, I’m not sure I could ever work with teenagers.”

“They’re not as bad as you might think. But I’m desensitized to their nonsense.”

One thing Minghao had learned about Joshua was that he was actually rather funny. He enjoyed joking and chatting and having fun with his friends, even if he was quieter than the others. He was also laid back. When Minghao awkwardly explained that he didn’t text him because he forgot, Joshua laughed and said it was okay and not to worry about it instead of asking him if he was okay like Seungcheol might. He was also a bit shy-a bit awkward-when they met again, but the longer they sat together the more they spoke. As they pushed through the awkwardness, he felt the click between the two of them that he’d felt at the bar and once again found himself studying the other man’s features, his fingers tingling and itching in that familiar way.

“What have you been drawing?” Joshua asked him, his deep voice tinged with interest, and Minghao found his confidence.

“Recently I’ve been doing portraits.” It wasn’t a lie, necessarily. “Actually, I was wondering if I could sketch you.”

“Me?” A flush colored Joshua’s flawless skin as his eyes widened. “I-I mean, I don’t mind, but are you sure?”

Sure? Minghao had been sure that he wanted to draw and paint Joshua from the moment that he met him. “I’m sure, you have, um, a very nice face for sketching.”

“Oh.” A smile made its way onto the older man’s lips and he glanced around. The rest of the guys were deep in conversation, not paying them any mind, and he turned back with a nod of his head. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m okay with you sketching me. I’m a bit curious to see your art, actually.”

“It might not be very good,” Minghao warned him, not wanting him to get his hopes up. “But thank you. I appreciate it. I’m just getting out of a slump so I need all the practice I can get.” He quickly pulled his supplies from his bag and flipped to a blank page, then pulled his legs up onto the seat, crossing them so that he was completely facing Joshua. His heart jumped and raced, especially at the flush on Joshua’s skin, but he focused, not wanting to waste this opportunity.

“Should I pose?” Joshua joked, and Minghao smiled widely for the first time in a long time, shaking his head as he pressed his pencil to the paper.

“No, you’re perfect as you are.” The words were a bit revealing and they hung in the air like a confession, but Joshua just smiled and reached up to fix his hair, watching Minghao with a sort of fascination sparkling in his eyes.

Sketches were never Minghao’s strongest talent and he’d always done darker, more abstract pieces, but he worked hard, determined to get Joshua’s likeness down on the paper. His muse was in front of him, in all his tanned, muscled glory, and he worked in a fever, his eyes tracing every line and mark in Joshua’s features. For that moment, it felt like it was only the two of them there, the space around them like a comfortable bubble of silence other than the scratch of his pencil against the sketchbook. He couldn’t hear his other friends talking even though they were just across the room, and he didn’t care to hear them, almost forgetting they were there as he worked.

Finally, he sat back and looked at the sketch in front of him, analyzing each of his lines. He had just drawn Joshua’s face instead of his body this time, and although it wasn’t perfectly photorealistic, it was Joshua as Minghao saw him: soft yet toned, sweet and playful, beautiful beyond Minghao’s wildest dreams. It was maybe a bit too revealing of his internal feelings and Minghao felt a bit like Basil from The Picture of Dorian Gray as he surveyed his own work, his mouth dry.

“Finished?” Joshua asked quietly, waking Minghao from his trance.

Nodding, the younger man handed over the portrait, accepting his fate. “For now, at least. What do you think?”

The seconds felt like minutes as he stared down at the sketch, and Minghao once again found himself consumed by worry, his heart painfully loud in his own ears as he watched, his hands clutched together in his lap and his breath caught in his throat.

“This is great, Minghao,” Joshua finally said, his voice even softer than usual as another smile spread over his lips, his eyes still glued to the sketchbook. Minghao could finally breathe again. “Is this what you think not very good is?”

“Well, my specialty is painting….”

“I still think this is great. I love it. You’re seriously amazing.”

It was Minghao’s turn to blush and he could feel his ears getting red as he glanced away, fiddling with his fingers. Since when had he been so shy? He usually had no problem telling his friends exactly what he thought, but now words got stuck in his throat as he overthought each one, a strange giddiness in his chest. “Thank you,” he said, his voice equally soft, slightly embarrassed as he smiled and looked down, his hair falling into his eyes, and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. His friends complimented all the time, but this was different. There was something rawer here, and Minghao wasn’t used to that. “I could do better if I was painting though.”

“Better than this?” Joshua smiled and tilted his head as he handed back the sketchbook. “I’d love to see that.”

This was his chance. Swallowing, Minghao clutched the sketchbook and tried his best to seem cool when in fact he was just the opposite. “If that’s the case, you could come to my place on a day off and I could paint you. Modelling does take some time, though, so only if you want to,” he said, speaking a bit faster than usual. The older man chuckled and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, this is the first time someone has asked me to model for them. I’m flattered.” Joshua’s gaze was heated and heavy, betraying his innocent features, but Minghao couldn’t decipher what that meant. Still, he basked in the attention. “What day works for you?”

“Any day, I work from home.” Maybe he answered a bit too quickly, but it drew a laugh from the man sitting across from him, so he didn’t care.

“How about tomorrow, then? It’s a Saturday and I have nothing else planned.”

Minghao’s heart jumped. So soon? He was glad he had cleaned up. “That works. Just text me and I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m excited,” Joshua said with a grin, resting his knee against Minghao’s, and the bubble tightened.

“Me too.”

-

Bright and early the next morning, Minghao rolled out of bed strangely bright and full of energy. After setting up his canvas and organizing the paints he’d need, he went about tidying up even more than before, not stopping until the entire apartment was organized and clean. The black gloom had all but disappeared from his mind, his thoughts now completely occupied with one certain music teacher whose smile danced behind his eyelids and whose laughter echoed in his head, chasing away the doubt he felt when he touched the canvas. He was still nervous, of course, because he wanted to create the perfect portrait and he wondered if he could ever capture the perfection that was Joshua on the canvas, but an excitement that he hadn’t felt in months had washed over him and those nerves could hardly stop him from drawing and painting in a frenzy. Just over the past week he’d created more art that he liked than he had in a month.

He was brewing coffee when the doorbell rang, and just the sound brought a smile to his lips, his heart jumping for joy in his chest. His muse was here.

Joshua stood outside the door in another t-shirt (much to Joshua’s delight) and with his guitar case slung over a shoulder, a smile on his plump lips that dared Minghao to stare at them. Somehow, he kept his eyes away as he grinned, stepping to the side to allow the other man inside.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring your guitar. Do I finally get to hear you play?”

“I thought it was only fair, since I get to see your art.” It had only been hours since they last saw each other, but Joshua seemed happy to see him again, his eyes searching his face before travelling down to his clothing. “I didn’t think you owned a t-shirt,” he joked, and Minghao found himself laughing as he looked down at his outfit. He was wearing painting clothes, jeans with paint stains and a baggy green t-shirt, but he’d chosen the best ones he had in his closet for the occasion.

“I can’t really paint in expensive clothes, can I?”

“I guess you’re right. Where would you like me to put my guitar?” Joshua looked around as he followed Minghao inside, admiring the many pieces of art that decorated the walls.

“Anywhere is fine. I just made coffee, do you want some?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

The awkwardness Minghao had felt the day before was gone. Instead, he felt like he’d known Joshua his entire life. The nervousness from having a guy he liked over at his house was there, and he still mulled over his words before he spoke, but it all lingered at the background, pushed away by a certain comfort and understanding. How was it that Joshua felt so familiar when he’d only met him the week before? Maybe it had something to do with them fitting together so easily.

As the younger man placed coffee and cream on the table, Joshua pulled his guitar out of the case and strummed it carefully. Intrigued, Minghao sat down across from him and leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his eyebrows raised. “What do you usually like to play?”

“Oh, everything. I like most music. But when I’m playing acoustic, I tend to like slower pop and indie.” He locked eyes with Minghao and smiled, confidence playing at the sides of his lips. God, he totally knew what he was doing, didn’t he? “Any requests?”

Minghao purposefully pouted his lips a bit as he thought, not missing the way Joshua’s eyes darted downwards. “Play me something sweet,” he said finally, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Still grinning, Joshua nodded his head and turned his attention back to his guitar, strumming a few more times before picking up his pick and beginning to play.

The melody was familiar somehow, bouncy and sweet, but Minghao couldn’t quite place it. Still, he listened intently, watching Joshua’s fingers slide over the strings with ease. The other man bounced his head along to the beat as he played, his dark hair brushing against his skin and his muscled arms flexing slightly as he stretched his fingers to reach the different chords. Closing his eyes, Minghao breathed in the smell of coffee and swayed slightly to the melody, listening closely as Joshua started to hum. If he wasn’t head over heels before, he definitely was now. There was no denying that.

As the song ended, he opened his eyes and smiled, a sweet smile that he wasn’t used to yet. “That was nice,” he said, “what song was that?”

“It’s called ‘Sunkissed’ although I made some changes to the song to make it sound better on the guitar. It was the first one that came to mind.”

“I liked it.”

“Thanks.” His grin was back as he reached out to pick up his mug and take a sip of his coffee. “I think I’m ready to sit still for a while now.”

Laughing (oh god it was more like a giggle, since when did he do that?), Minghao stood from his chair and finished off his coffee. “I hope so since portraits take longer to paint than to draw. I forgot to mention it last night, but I’ll probably need to you sit for a few days before it’s finished. I don’t want to make you sit for hours on end.”

“That’s okay. I’m free on evenings. Plus, that means I get to see you more, so I don’t mind.” He totally knew what he was doing. Minghao turned away to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I’ll go get the paints ready. Finish your coffee and join me when you’re ready.”

“Will do!”

-

Painting Joshua was surprisingly easy. Minghao had only painted live models a few times (he usually just used photos) but Joshua understood exactly how he wanted him to pose, and what face he should put on. To make it easier, Minghao had him in a comfortable position: Joshua sat on a chair near the window, with his elbow propped on the windowsill, his hand under his jaw as he gazed out the window. It made for a romantic portrait nonetheless and was perfect for capturing Joshua’s sharp jawline, so he was glad he chose it. After turning on a podcast to keep Joshua from being too bored, Minghao picked up his pencil and sent one last look at the other man.

“Tell me if you need a break,” he said before diving in, unable to hold himself back anymore. This was just the outline, but still, he focused on making everything perfect, wanting to capture every angle, line, and shadow. He worked tirelessly, absorbed in his work until the familiar silhouette and face of Joshua started to stare back at him from the graphite . It was only then that he stepped back and rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers. “You can take a break now.”

“Whew,” Joshua said, laughing as he fell back into the chair. “I didn’t realize how hard it was to sit still until now.”

“Sorry,” Minghao said sheepishly, glancing over the canvas, but the other man just shook his head.

“It’s okay. I agreed to this, after all.”

“Why don’t I order us lunch to make up for it? We can jump back in after we eat.”

His suggestion was met with a now-familiar smile that made him smile in return. “That sounds great, actually.”

-

When Joshua left that evening, bidding Minghao goodbye with another lingering touch to his shoulder, the canvas was only an outline with a roughly painted backdrop. Still, as Minghao fell into bed, exhausted from his concentration, he found himself feeling proud of what he’d accomplished. Having a muse really was the best.

-

The more the two of them got the hang of working together, the easier it became to paint Joshua. He came over on the weekends, bringing plenty of takeout and sometimes his guitar, on the nights he wasn’t too tired from work. The two of them always talked before jumping into work, telling each other about their day and chatting about anything and everything as they ate. Joshua liked to joke around and have fun, and he was slightly mischievous despite his innocent and sweet appearance. He was also physically affectionate, which was something Minghao wasn’t used to, but was also something he found himself liking, leaning into each touch.

Joshua was just too warm to resist.

With each session, though, a tension hung in the air. Not an uncomfortable tension, but a charged, excited tension, with both of them taking steps forward and pushing the boundaries of friendship a bit further. Neither of them said anything-not really, not directly-but the subtle touches and heavy shared glances implied what they both were feeling. Sometimes, when Joshua leaned in close to survey the progress of the painting, Minghao could hardly breathe, but he loved the feeling. A thrill rushed through his body when Joshua flirted and got just a little bit closer, daring him to do the same.

Painting Joshua was exhilarating, so when Minghao made the final on the canvas, filling in the shadows, he found himself wishing that he wasn’t done. Already, he wanted to paint him again. Maybe shirtless this time? Just the thought was thrilling. Swallowing, he stepped back and surveyed the canvas, eyes searching for any mistake to fix. But there was nothing. For the first time in a long time, he knew his painting was perfect. Reluctantly, he put his brush down and looked up over the canvas at his muse.

“All finished. Want to come look?” He stepped back as Joshua stood from his seat and walked over, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The sun had just started to set outside the window, casting an orange hue through the window and filling the room with warmth as the older man moved to his side, the tension moving with him.

Joshua in a breath when he saw the finished product, then stood silently for a long moment, running a hand through his hair as he admired the painting. Once again, Minghao’s breath caught in his throat, and he found himself watching Joshua instead of looking at his own work, admiring how the shadows caught on the edges of his face and waiting for his response.

“You’re so talented,” Joshua finally said, turning to face Minghao. “You made me look so handsome.”

“I just painted what I saw.” The truth finally slipped from his lips, and an affectionate smile graced Joshua’s features as he stepped closer. For a few seconds, Minghao was content to drown in his dark eyes, until Joshua’s hand came up to rest on the side of his neck. The other man’s fingers were slightly calloused from playing the guitar and the rough feeling sent a shiver down his spine. As if on instinct, he let his eyelids flutter closed as Joshua’s other hand found his jaw, his thumb rubbing a small circle before guiding Minghao forward. Another shiver shot through him as soft lips pressed against his own, slow, sweet, and passionate.

Joshua was slightly shorter, so Minghao had to lean forward slightly, but he hardly even realized it as his hands came up to ball in Joshua’s shirt, pulling him closer. He had wanted this for so, so long, and now that he finally had it, his needy and pushy nature took over. Joshua responded by kissing him harder, pushing him back up against the wall until he could feel Joshua’s muscled chest pressing against his own. Inspiration washed over him as Joshua’s lips moved against his own: he saw bodies pressed and tangled together as if one, orange fields, grasping hands, dark eyes and gasping lips, brilliant flowers and overflowing colors and deep blue oceans that washed up over curves and laughs and sweet nothings. The feelings wrapped up in his chest burst and exploded, filling him with the urge to create as he sank into Joshua’s warm embrace.

By the time Joshua pulled away, Minghao was flushed and breathless, feeling like his body was floating in a way he’d never experienced before. He felt orange and pink, as if he was glowing as Joshua smiled at him like he was the only man in the world.

“I like you,” Minghao breathed, and Joshua laughed, affectionately running his thumb along Minghao’s jawline.

“That’s good, because I like too,” he said, his voice almost musical, before he claimed Minghao’s lips again, pulling him back into a sea of colors and thrills even more passionate than before. Minghao’s hands itched to create, but he ran them over toned muscles and wrapped them around the other man’s shoulders, opting to let his lips make art instead, determined to pull as many sounds as possible from Joshua’s perfect mouth and to leave his mark in purple on Joshua’s sun kissed skin.