roartonrisen | (no subject)

(no subject)

Something's missing.

Kieren can't put his finger on what's going on, but he has the strange, sneaking suspicion that something is happening. He shakes his head and goes back to his sketching, dabbing his fingers slowly with his thumb and frowning when he sees the strange black liquid coming out of his nose. He shakes his head and ignores it, going back to sketching Sirius without any of his clothes.

He smiles, faintly, as his thoughts turn to his boyfriend, still getting used to that thought. And more than that, the faint delighted prickle doesn't even feel imagined.

Maybe he'll call Sirius soon and invite him over for something, like a movie. There, again, is that feeling, like he's missed something big.

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"Don't leave, being mad at me?" he requests, as exhausted as he's ever sounded. He probably looks it, too, his eyes weary and his body sluggish with the ache of what he's done wrong. Even if he hadn't meant to, he still did make the mistake and now he's paying for it.

"I'm not mad," Sirius says because he isn't, not now that he knows the explanation, can see the remorse written all over Kieren's face. If anything, he feels foolish for his own anger, for presuming that Kieren had done anything so thoughtless when he knows better by now.

"And I won't leave if you'd rather I stay. I had planned to spend the whole evening with you already, after all," he adds with a small smile.

Sirius probably should be, because it's not the kind of thing that you ought to forget. He feels awful, both for forgetting and in general, and he isn't sure how to fix it. "We could stay in and watch something. I don't think I'm quite ready to brave people, with the memory issue, but...but we could curl up on the sofa and watch something here, maybe?" he offers as a possible amendment.

"Sure," Sirius replies easily enough, standing quickly only so he can shrug off the jacket he's been wearing and toss it over the back of the sofa.

He drops into the cushions a second later with no warning, pushing so he's pressed up close to Kieren, not caring a wit for the sketch on his lap until he notices what it's of. His grin widens then. "Thinking of me, at least, were you?" he says, his voice all tease and maybe a little smug.

Kieren stares at the drawing and glances up through hooded eyes, hopeful and bashful as he thinks of the drawing. Leaning up into his space, he cups his cheek and leans in for a kiss because he wants one and he plans to take it. "It's not done," he murmurs softly, when he eases back. "I have to shade it, give it a bit of character, maybe colour."

He isn't expecting the kiss or the cool, brief press of Kieren's hand to his cheek, but he's eager for either, the last dredges of his earlier upset fading entirely as Kieren settles back into the cushions.

"Given that it's me, I'd say it already contains quite a bit of character," he says, grinning. "What will you do with it when you're done?"

"I'm going to frame it and hang it in my living room," is Kieren's reply, confused as to what else he might do with it. It's not like Simon where he'd been ashamed and had hidden it away in a drawer. No, this is better. This is good and he's ready to be honest about it. He just sort of wishes he could have Sirius meet his parents.

"Any preference on the colour of the frame? Or the placement?"

Whatever he might've expected, it had not been the notion that Kieren might actually frame the sketch. After all, he's done more than a few that Sirius has seen already, all of them on sheets lying about the place. This one, he'll concede seems a bit more deliberate in form, but it's still surprising.

And pleasing.

"Anything but black," he says immediately, nestling in closer and stretching out his legs so his face is pressed to Kieren's shoulder. "It'd be just a bit too on-the-nose, I'd think. What about a rustic sort of gold?"

"I like that," Kieren says, fondly thinking of a portrait all in gold that hangs in his main room so that he can see it all the time. "Actually, I meant to ask...that thing you talk about, in your wizarding pictures. Is it something that we could do here? I wouldn't mind giving you something you could look at, of me."

"A picture I can hang in my flat, you mean?" Sirius replies, blinking in surprise at Kieren's offer. "Do you mean that?"

It would be possible, he thinks. It requires a certain sort of magic, but Sirius is confident he can acquire the things he needs from Harry's friend's shop. He just hadn't thought it'd be something Kieren would ever allow. "It won't be strange for you when you come over?"

"If you could figure out a way to take an image of me, I wouldn't mind knowing that you always have something of me there to see," Kieren says, trying not to be vain or anything, but he does like the idea of giving Sirius that. "Only if you want it, of course."

"Well, it'd be a good deal better than every portrait we had in my childhood home, a nice change from them shouting at me all hours of the day." He narrows his eyes then, playful as he rests a hand on Kieren's thigh. "I wonder what sort of things your portrait will say. I hope they're naughty."

Kieren swallows his laugh, but the disbelief stays in his eyes. "Wait, does it not just say whatever I do? Wouldn't it need me to say something like that in the first place?" The concept that this might be something of him that exists outside him is a strange thing and he's not sure he's entirely able to cope with that.

"Depends a bit on the magic," Sirius replies with an easy shrug. "I wouldn't want one that says the same thing over and over again -- that'd get terribly annoying even if it does come from you adorable face."

Sensing some unease, Sirius grins a little and reaches down to take Kieren's hand, giving a light squeeze. "It wouldn't say anything you wouldn't, however. It captures a bit of the soul of the subject. Not literally, of course; there'll be no bit of you actually existing in a portrait. I suppose it's more... your essence. No, that still isn't right. I'm not certain I can explain it, honestly."

He relaxes a bit, having imagined it a bit like a strange and rude little parrot that would say whatever it wanted without Kieren's input. "Okay," he says. "Yeah, let's try it out and give you something for your place," he insists. He's got more than enough drawings at his place, but a magical one wouldn't hurt either.

"Really?" Sirius replies, mildly surprised by Kieren's readiness. "I'll be honest - it's not magic I've ever tried on my own and I've never been very good with the creative side of things. Not like you are. It might turn out terribly malformed."

He opens and then closes his mouth, not entirely sure what he's supposed to say about this. "Could we maybe try and do this so I wasn't malformed?" he suggests hopefully. "I mean, if that's on the table, let's go with that."

Sirius's lips twitch then and he lets out a low laugh. "Yes, I would prefer a portrait where you actually look like you," he agrees. He drops his gaze back to the drawing on Kieren's lap and he adds, "What if you paint it? Obviously, the magic will be separate and I can do some research into that -- I'd bet Harry knows a thing or two, or his mate -- but what if you do the actually art part of things. You'd not make yourself malformed, I'm sure."

"I could do that, but it wouldn't be perfectly lifelike," he warns, since his skill is still coming along and he's yet to reach the point of perfect realism, not yet. "We'll figure out something, though, and then I'll have something of you and you'll have something of me."

"Well, the drawings you've done of me aren't perfectly lifelike, are they?" he points out. "Though, I'll tell you -- I'm more than happy to sit for you at any time if that's something you're working toward. You just say the word. I'm happy to make the sacrifice."

Kieren makes a noise of affront, like he can't believe the insult even though he'd readily agree. "Well, I wouldn't mind you all lain out. It would certainly help the realism of the paintings, wouldn't it? Definitely the sketches."

"Say no more," Sirius declares, shifting a immediately so that he's draped half across the couch, his back against the far arm as he rests his legs right over Kieren's lap and swiftly sheds his shirt. Running a hand through his hair, his grin widens and he gives Kieren a quick wink.

"Does this work?"

Kieren lets out a bark of a laugh, feeling better for the madcap ridiculousness. He shakes his head and looks down. "And where am I supposed to put a sketchpad and pencil if you're occupying all the space there?" he wonders.

Smirking now, Sirius gives his own lap a pointed look as he spreads his legs just slightly. "Plenty of room right there, I'd say. Unless you want to see more, of course. I suppose I can move to give you room if that's the case."

Sirius keeps moving like that and Kieren feels something stir in him, like a little quiver through trembles through his body (almost like a pulse) and he reaches down considerately to stroke his hand over Sirius' cock, as if debating. "Hmm," he muses. "I don't know. Is this enough room?"

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