Chapter Text
Edd stares deeply at the canvas in front of him, sweat pouring down his lid. Every stroke meets it with intention, careful colours dancing together to make:
Art.
This class is so calming, a few lovely hours away from the chaos of home. He’s always painted for himself, no bothering how good he gets at it, but it’s been fun learning how to hone his craft. Right now, he’s painting the face of a model. She’s spinning on a wheel surrounded by students, all hyperfocused on their individual pieces, rather than her beauty. Edd remembers wanting to ask her out when she walked into the room, but now, he’s worried he’s made her eyebrows too thick and it’ll bump down his grade.
Art itself is beautiful, but also so stressful. Edd often wishes he could blabber his mouth while he paints here, as he could while at home. It helps to stop his intense sweating, which is now soaking through his apron. Instead, he must listen only to the hum of the heater and the wet paint meeting dry paper.
Edd drops his paintbrush when he finishes like a wire cutter after defusing a bomb. He glances across the room to scope the progress of the rest of his classmates. Some are stretching their hands, exhausted eyes staring at their sloppy aprons, others are still painting their masterpieces. Their teacher walks up behind Edd and takes a gander at his own work. She nods approvingly, though she’s kind, and does that with all her students. To her, every piece has its place in the world, its own unique charm. That doesn’t change her grading scores, however. She can be quite ruthless when she wants to be. Edd stands from his chair to stretch, feeling his soaked hoodie weighing him down. He didn’t realise just how hot it’d get in here, Mrs. Fresco really hates the cold! He airs his hoodie out to bring a cool breeze to his torso.
“Any of you that are done, and your paintings dried, please place them on the shelves carefully and you may leave for today.” Mrs. Fresco says softly. Edd knows his painting hasn’t dried yet, but he’s eager to get out of this heat chamber and back out into the cool autumn breeze. He picks up his painting from its easel and heads to the shelves, but Mrs. Fresco steps in his way. “Edd, your painting isn’t dry, yet, is it?” Her smile is kind, but her voice reads somewhat scolding. Edd slouches with his tail between his legs.
“Well, no, but...”
“Be patient, if it’s not dry it might smudge against another student’s painting.” She delineates, showing all her years working with elementary school students. Edd pouts, knowing she means well, but the stuffiness of the room is getting the better of him. “Besides, I want to talk to you...”
At that, Edd perks up. She leads him to her desk, where there are many papers and drawings of her on display. Edd can see the one he did as she shuffles through drawers. She pulls out a more professional–looking paper, with printed words instead of graphite, and hands it to him. He sinks in on himself as he realises what she’s about to tell him. “You still haven’t turned in your nude model anatomy practice piece. It was missing when I picked them up from the shelves.”
“Right...” Edd says just above a whisper, clear distress in his tone. His teacher gives a comforting hum.
“It’s worth a significant part of your grade, as is every piece you paint for me. This class wants you to show it your skills, and to learn from your mistakes. Turning it in is the most important thing, you know there’s no such thing as a failing grade here.” She tells him, then gives a stern glare as she pointedly continues, “If you turn it in, that is.”
“I know, I know, just...” Edd pulls his knuckles as he thinks of how to word this ‘professionally’. “Y’know, why are all the nude models women?”
Mrs. Fresco raises her brows.
“I mean! It’s just... I’m not good with... lady bits...” He’s now staring down at his fumbling fingers, his cheeks brushed pink.
“Oh, Edd.. You’re embarrassed about your painting?” She examines. Edd grows even more ashamed at that.
“I... I don’t have my painting anymore...” He admits.
“What’d you do with it?” Mrs. Fresco asks, taking off her glasses and folding them onto the desk.
“Threw it in a river...”
“Edd!” She whispers with much more strength to her voice now.
“I’m sorry! I hated the painting! I didn’t want to turn it in, even if it meant I’d... fail...”
“Well, you have to turn in something. Find another model, it can be an online one, and paint them. Edd, you need this graded.”
“I understand... Thank you, Ma’am...” Edd looks down at his now dried painting, realising the colours are a bit off now that it’s not wet.
“Good luck, Edd.” She tells him as he puts the painting away and heads out of the door.
Her words follow him all the way back home, echoing like a ghost haunting his every step. Once sitting in his room, he turns on his computer and tries desperately to type “nude model” into his search. He finds his stomach churning. Even when he switches to an incognito tab, he still feels fear at painting something horrid for such beautiful human bodies, ones he finds attractive. They can’t be as awful as he makes them... The breasts give him the most trouble. Weight is something he can never get right, making someone look as though gravity has pressed down on them. It’s why he often doesn’t bother drawing fat people, despite being one. He knows it only keeps him from improving, but he worries about the judgement, about Mrs. Fresco’s red inked sticky notes piling on his painting until you can barely even see it past the neon yellow papers.
They’d say things like: ‘I can’t imagine the weight of these breasts like this’, ‘the hair along her southern area has not enough shading to feel real’, ‘the nipples tend to poke out when cold and especially on this breastfeeding lady, but I don’t believe I see it portrayed properly in your art’. He shivers at the thought. He’d much prefer to paint a male model, but is it weird to type ‘nude model male’? Are there even any? If there are, they certainly aren’t coming to his art class. Just then, the door swings open. Edd scrambles to exit out of the tab, despite only being the front page of Google. Matt reels at the clear panic, rolling his eyes.
“Tord made dinner.” He says sourly. Edd allows himself to feel relieved, following Matt over to the kitchen. All their plates are set up, Tom’s already scarfing down what he can. Matt sits at his plate, carefully picking up his utensils. Edd feels like a criminal as he walks into the room, though Tord smiles at him.
“Have a seat. I made a goat traybake.” Tord grins at his own work, taking a slice from the big tray in the middle of the table. Edd sits and takes his own. “It was kind of difficult to find goat in the stores, but I met a nice butcher and farmer who bred them. He was sweet. I have his number now, so if you three like this, I can make more.”
“Yeah, yeah, you met a hot butcher and you two hooked up, can we eat now?” Tom snides. Tord scowls at him but doesn’t respond to the comment, filling his fork and stuffing his mouth with the mix of meat and softened vegetables. Edd chuckles, glad to be home. He nearly forgets about the assignment he’s been doomed to. Key word there being ‘nearly’. “How was art class?” Tom asks with a mouthful of food. Matt scrunches his nose.
“At least cover your mouth, you pig.” He scolds.
“You’re one to talk. You’re not even eating, of course your mouth isn’t full.” Tom responds. It’s true that Matt’s just been poking at his food with his fork, not a single part of the centre of his plate is visible. Matt’s eyes go wide and face red as he hides it from a now saddened Tord looking at him.
“I– I just... it... I’m not big on meat cutlets... they’re always so fatty!” He confesses, turning his nose up.
“Ohhh, Matt hates fat guys now!” Edd teases, a smile on his face. Despite the clear sarcasm he’s boasting, Matt takes the comment at face value and looks appalled by the suggestion.
“No! Nuh uh!! I– I didn’t SAY that!” He answers loudly, to the snickers of Tom and Edd.
“He’s joking, Matt.” Tord explains, before pointing to Matt’s plate as his attention is grabbed. “Anyway, goat is less fatty than most meats. It’s got a beef-like texture. Lean, fine–grain.”
Matt seems to observe the plate for clues of Tord’s words, before finally stabbing it with his fork, careful not to get any vegetables with it. All throughout, he has a face like vomit is coming up his throat, until it meets his tongue and his teeth start to grind on his food. He moves his brows up in a somewhat exaggerated manner, as if he expected it to cause his skin to melt off.
“You like it?” Tord asks. Matt sheepishly nods, trying to contain himself from scarfing down the rest of it gladly. Edd also finds himself enjoying the meal, though he wants to tell Matt it tastes better when you eat it all together and don’t push all the carrots to the side of your plate.
“Edd?” Tom says once Matt’s picky fit has quieted. Edd turns to him. “You never answered me, how was art class?” Edd’s heart sinks.
“Oh, it was fine...” He starts to poke at his potatoes.
“Just fine?”
“Yeah.. I mean, I have to turn in a project or else I’ll fail, and I kinda don’t know how to do it...”
“What’s the project?” Tom probes. Edd feels heat rise to his cheeks.
“Nothing! None of your business! Why do you even wanna know?” Edd huffs. He gets up from the table swiftly and tosses his plate in the sink before Tom can even respond. The other looks flabbergasted by the outburst.
“I just– it’s– are you okay?” Tom questions. To which, Edd shows just how okay and normal he is by leaving the room as fast as possible. His friends all look at each other with slight concern. “What’d I even do?” Tom blurts out, hurt like a lover after an argument. Tord holds his hands up.
“I don’t think it’s your fault. Something must’ve happened in art class.” Tord rationalises. He turns to the only other person with his plate mostly empty. “Matt, can you go talk to him?”
“Wha– ME?! B-but I haven’t finished my...” Matt stutters through his excuse, looking down at the mushy, unappetising carrots left on it. He feels his head go light just looking at them. “Fine. I’ll talk to him...”
“Thanks.” Tord mutters, going back to his incredibly slow eating, savouring every bite as if to taunt Matt for eating so quickly. Matt stomps toward the hallway, already dreading meeting Edd in his room. He opens the door slowly. Edd springs out from the ajar door with a smile.
“Aha!” He shouts, scaring Matt half to death.
“Hey!” Matt whines, only causing Edd to laugh.
“Haha! What’s up?” He asks. Matt fumbles with his jacket.
“Well, just checking up on you. You seemed rather upset earlier.”
“Oh, that? Haha, yeah, I’m great!” Edd waves his hand dismissively. This makes Matt quirk his head.
“Really?”
“Yup! You can go now!” The sweat beading on Edd’s forehead leaves his act less and less convincing as the seconds pass. Matt looks over at Edd’s easel, just barely seeing the sketched figure of a woman under the frantic black strokes of paint covering it. There’s plenty of canvases strewn about with similar anger spewed into them.
“Is your class stressing you out?” Matt finally asks. Edd jumps like there’s an electric current shooting through his body, his laugh loud enough to drown out the words Matt’s already said.
“HAHAHAH!! As IF!!!” He says through his teeth. Matt still remains unconvinced, staying in Edd’s doorframe and looking down at his feet.
“You sound like you’re lying.” He says boldly, despite his avoidance of eye contact. Edd feels an ice cold shiver down his spine.
“I’m not! I’m just– it’s just– it’s really simple, really, I–!” Every attempt Edd makes to brush Matt’s concern off falls flat as Matt steps further into the room and observes the paintings which are, themselves, painting the floor.
“Look, your room is a mess... All these paintings and none of them are finished... What are you trying to paint?” Matt interrogates fairly well for someone so otherwise completely inept. Edd licks the sweat off his lip and swallows the pooling saliva in his mouth.
“I... I...” He finally releases the tension in his shoulders as he hangs his head, ashamed to face Matt. “I have to draw a nude model...”
“...Is that all?” Matt scoffs. Edd grows annoyed by the frosty response.
“Yes.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “I just don’t know who to paint! I hate the idea of painting a stranger’s body, and I’ve painted so many women, when I know I’d do better with a male model! I just want a break, you know? Something easy.”
Matt ponders the idea for a moment.
“You could paint me.” He suggests. Edd stares into Matt, though Matt’s casually looking at his easel. He picks up the current painting and holds it in his lap, studying it like a snobby critic.
“Really?” Edd cranes his neck, “You’d be my nude model?”
“Sure!” Matt shrugs, then puts a finger on his chin and raises a brow. “What does nude even mean, anyway?”
“It means naked...” Edd explains dryly. Matt grows slightly flush.
“Oh! Hm...” He stares down slightly shamefully. Edd finds himself panicking at the indecisiveness. This is his only shot at finishing that project, he just knows it. Painting someone he knows will be easy, and Matt’s the perfect subject. Tom would never let his naked body be gawked at and graded by a stranger, and Tord... Well, that’d just be wrong...
Matt needed to be his muse. He rushes closer to Matt, grabbing his attention by gently pulling the canvas out of his hands.
“Y’know, you’d be perfect to paint!” Edd tells him, a weak smile on his face. “I just know your gorgeous body will absolutely awe my teacher! A woman, by the way.” Matt’s eyes widen, he slowly smiles as he thinks of it.
“Well.. I suppose...” Matt mutters, bringing a finger to his grinning lip, tapping it rhythmically.
“And I’m sure someone as strong as you can hold a pose for a long time, hm?”
“Of course!”
“Then let me paint you!”
“Hm... Will I get to have the painting once you’re done with it?” He asks.
“Yeah, once Mrs. Fresco grades it, she’ll hand it back to me.” Edd tells him. At this, Matt grins.
“Ohhh...” Matt’s cheeks burn redder, “Fine, fine! When do we do this?” He crosses his legs, trying to look put together after being so buttered up.
“Tomorrow, we can start tomorrow. Whenever you wake up is fine.” Edd says. Matt nods and picks himself up off the bed.
“Right. See you then.” He announces, skirting his way out of the room in an obvious rush. Edd grows giddy seeing him leave. He’s so completely embarrassed! The look on his face was priceless! Edd’s never seen Matt like that before... Of course, he’s never called Matt gorgeous before, nor strong of all things. Matt can hardly lift the couch to search for the remote. But if words like that are what it takes to get Matt to do what he needs, Edd doesn’t mind it. In fact, he kind of likes how Matt reacts to it. It’s like he’s never been complimented before. Edd snickers to himself. This’ll be a cakewalk.