When he finished that up, proud of himself for not bursting into flames from the embarrassment, David was still sketching…but he looked up when Mason stood, and he set the sketch book down. “Can you tell me if this is wrong? I keep looking at the first one I did and…I like it, but something feels off to me.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree.” Mason strode over nonetheless. “But I can try.”
David flipped a couple pages back and showed Mason…a page of himself. One was a rudimentary sketch of a guy, presumably himself, sitting in a chair. Not much detail to be had, so it realistically could have been anyone, though Mason smiled at the fact that, even when no other details made it in, his hair did, sweeping back from the nondescript forehead of the figure.
That was not the only version of Mason on the page, though, and the others were much more clearly him. One was all jagged, overlapping lines, as if David had tried to draw him with a cluster of polygons. One was a tiny Mason sitting in front of a big computer, with stark shadows being cast from the glow of the screen. Another was him from seemingly some other time of day entirely, standing with one arm braced up high against a wall or some other flat thing.
Yet even with all of those, Mason was pretty sure he knew which one David wanted him to look at. The opposite page from the collection of other sketches was a profile of himself. The highlights of his hair were bright, almost looking like a source of light for the drawing rather than a reflection. His eyebrows were drawn in fine detail, and there was a brightness to his eyes, even in a simple, grayscale pencil drawing. His lips looked full,his cheeks slightly tinged gray in a way that really looked like he was flushed…and given that, at least part of the time, Mason had been trying not to be self-conscious, it was entirely possible that was accurate.
The drawing carried down, showing a slight bulge as it transitioned to his chest and shoulders, then faded into a streaky cloud of silvery graphite.
Mason swallowed hard. “That’s…I don’t see a problem, other than questionable choice of a model. That’s incredible work.”
“Well thanks, but I promise you, the artist is the problem here, not the model.” David held his sketch book up to the bedside lamp, then shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s still not landing for me.” He sucked on his teeth, then clapped the book closed and set it down. “I’ll figure it out. Just have to keep drawing you until I get it. But I promised you dinner.”
Mason forced his shoulders down so his tension hopefully wouldn’t show through. Thelastthing he wanted to do around David was eat. “I’m okay. Craft services and all that.”
“Craft services at the hotel? When no one was really filming, and as far as I know, you didn’t really go to the condo at all?”
“It’s fine.”
Chapter twelve
David
That‘fine’hunginthe air like a corpse from a rope, and David simply chewed on the reality of it. It wasnotfine for Mason to freeze up over nothing, and it was not the first time he’d made some decisions and comments that David, frankly, didn’t care for. But he also knew he would have to approach any conversation about it gently.
Or I could just leave it. David had to stop himself from even opening his mouth. He liked Mason as much as he could after two days. He was attentive and present and seemed genuinely kind. He was also handsome and looked like he could wrap David up and hold him tight, but he didn’t want to focus too much on that. Baggy his jeans may have been, but boners were crafty enemies.
None of that put David in the position to try and broach sensitive topics with Mason. So he shifted the topic around andwent for a different angle. “Well, I’m going to be down in the hotel restaurant if you change your mind. If not, I still owe you a meal.” David smiled, giving a good show. “And don’t think I’m done with you. I’m going to keep at this until I get it right. Or until something new catches my attention.” He winked and snapped up his sketch book. “Might have noticed, stick-to-itiveness did not come standard with my operating system.”
Mason shrugged. “That’s why we’re here. Get this done for you.”
“And I appreciate it. Still kind of freaked out that I could have just fallen through the entire floor.”
“We’ll take care of it.” Mason clapped him on the shoulder. “Frankly, you handled it better than I would have. I’d have been calling and yelling at the people who put that floor in.” He took his hand back and scrubbed it over the back of his head with a slight grin. “Which, for what it’s worth, I’m still willing to do. I don’t know how they messed up that bad, but they shouldn’t get away with it.”
A new sensation hit David’s belly. Mason was probably just doing his job, as far as he was concerned, but he was offering to take care of David. It wasn’t a bad sensation in his belly at all. A welcome one, even. David was more than a bit of a loner, so it wasn’t often that he found himself being taken care of by anyone. Even when he did go out to a bar or to a gallery with folks, it wasn’t…that.
David swallowed. “I’ll let you know. I don’t know if I want to piss anyone off, though.”
“That’s the beauty of it: I would be pissing them off.” Mason laughed at his own comment, and the tension from before seemed to have vanished. He stepped back and closed out of whatever was still open on his laptop, then closed the lid down. “Offer stands if you want to take advantage of it.”
David…couldn’t help himself. “You’re offering to let me take advantage of you?”
Mason shook his head. “You’re terrible. Go on and get your dinner.”
He ushered David toward the door, but David had to try at least one more time. “Myoffer stands. You can join me for a meal.”
“I’m okay. Seriously. Go enjoy yourself.”
David wasn’t going to keep up the fight on it…today. When Mason’s door clicked closed behind him, David walked to his own hotel room and splashed some cold water on his face. Finally, he let his mind wander to all the places he hadn’t allowed when he was with Mason. That last comment had been his dam breaking anyway. If he’d spent another five minutes in there, his innuendo probably would have turned to flat-out flirting. Or propositioning. David allowed himself to imagine that clap on the shoulder turning into a hug, into being pulled in for a firm embrace and smelling nothing but Mason’s cologne.
That pesky boner finally appeared. Not full-blown, but enough that he noticed, and that when he backed up and looked in the mirror…well, his dick-print was noticeable in a way he was pretty sure it hadn’t been before.
And since he was alone, David reached down and gave himself a little squeeze and tug. Then a little more. Then he decided it was probably time for a long shower before he headed down for dinner. Hopefully, Mason would be down there looking for him when he finally did hit up the restaurant.
A dinner alone in a random hotel restaurant was certainly not inspiring or exciting. Plus, maybe once he’d jacked off in the shower for a bit, he could act a bit more normal.
