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tanookikiss · 3 years

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Paul’s Birthday

Pairing: Tommy x Paul, Gene x Eric. S

Rating: T

Author’s note: So I’ve had this silly little fluffy idea in my head for about a month. I wasn’t sure if I was going to finish it in time, but I have some awesome friends to thank for that. Thank you @ashestoashesvvi for offering me valuable art tips and suggestions for this story.

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Tommy looked forward to all special occasions. He adored gatherings, celebrating milestones with his loved ones. However, there was one special occasion in particular that the guitarist had been prepping for months: Paul’s birthday.

The Spaceman would be the first to admit his infatuation with The Starchild. Who could blame him? Paul was the whole package; smart, sexy, kind, and talented. The two had spent a lot of time together, bonding over their shared love of painting, and Tommy cherished every minute of it. He adored any chance to be with Paul, really, but there was something special and intimate about their art sessions. He had taught Paul a few tips here and there, and Paul took to it like a natural.

Paul wasn’t just painting a canvas; he was baring his soul. His radiant smile sent butterflies a flutter throughout Tommy’s stomach when he mixed his paints. There was a childlike wonder that twinkled within those beautiful chocolate eyes as the brush met the canvas ever so delicately. Paul was soft and vulnerable. It was a side of himself that he shields from the world out of fear and that made Tommy sad. Paul was at his most beautiful whenever he could let go and create. And Tommy was determined to help set him free.

As the party guests were busy mingling in Paul’s living room, Tommy was busy setting up his grand gift display in the art studio. Gene and Eric distracted Paul while Tommy meticulously re-arranged the color palette to be perfect. Nothing was too good for his Paul. He smiled as he observed his display.

“Hey Tommy, if you want any cake you better hurry before Gene monopolizes the sweets table,” Eric announced, walking into the studio with a glass of champagne. “Holy shit! How many cans of paint did you buy!?” he exclaimed, nearly spilling his drink all over the floor.

“Seventy-two,” Tommy replied with pride. “All seventy-two colors of Liquitex Professional Acrylic Paint. It took me weeks to get every single color to complete the collection,” he gestured to the colorful pyramid display in the center of the room.

Eric blinked, completely gobsmacked at the impressive rainbow pyramid before him. “Of all the things you could’ve bought Paul, you spent weeks buying various fingerpaints!”

“This is the highest quality acrylic paint on the market. All of the great artists use this brand. It’s in very high demand!” Tommy blurted out, explaining his reasoning to the skeptic drummer.

Eric squinted his eyes. “Oh yeah? What’s so special about it?”

Tommy carefully pulled a red bottle down from the display. He opened the top to show Eric the buttery red consistency inside. “Each color is uniquely formulated to bring out the brilliance and clarity of the individual pigment. It’s perfect for color mixing.”

Eric still couldn’t see what was so great about this overpriced paint. It looked like regular red paint to him, but he knew Tommy went to a lot of trouble to get it for Paul, and he knew how important it was for his friend, so he tried to be as cordial as he could, “Yeah, that red is…very red,” he smiled, patting Tommy on the back. “I’m sure Paul will love it.”

Tommy smiled back at his friend. “Paul is an artistic genius! He only deserves the best.”

Eric scratched his head while observing Paul’s latest painting titled, “Doors Of Perception” in confusion. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far…I mean, this door looks more like a window!”

“I think it looks like a waffle.”

Tommy and Eric turned their heads to see Gene propped outside the door, munching on his cake.

Tommy shook his head. “You guys aren’t looking deep enough into the emotionally charged compositions. It’s Abstract Art. It’s not supposed to be realistic. The colors and shapes represent aesthetic ideas instead of natural forms.”

Gene and Eric gave each other a puzzled look with arched eyebrows before turning their attention back to their supposedly art connoisseur Spaceman.

“Then how do you explain this one?” Gene asked, pointing his fork to a canvas covered in brown smudges with a hint of blue and green along the edges.

Eric chuckled. “Let me guess…it’s supposed to be a window into the troubled soul of a starving artist,” he overdramatically stated, prompting a deep chuckle out of Gene.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “This one is not finished yet. Paul has been working on this piece for days now.”

Eric blinked. “It took him days to just randomly slap some brown, blue and green onto a canvas!?”

Tommy sighed. He honestly had no idea why he bothered trying to explain Abstract Art to these two unappreciative buffoons.

“Tommy? Are you back here?” Paul asked from outside the door.

In a hurry, Tommy put down the red bottle in the middle of the floor and scrambled to the door just before Paul could set foot into the room.

“Hey Paul,” he asked breathlessly, trying his best to block Paul’s view from his surprise.

Paul cocked his head curiously. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought you left,” he said sadly, twirling a nervous finger around his necklace clasp.

“No! Never! I would never leave you…err… leave the party,” Tommy fumbled, shaking his head. Eric snickered behind him. Tommy resisted the urge to swat at him.

“What are you all doing in my art studio?” Paul asked, noticing Gene and Eric standing behind Tommy.

Before Tommy could speak, Eric blurted out, “Tommy has a surprise for you!”

“Oh!” Paul’s eyes lit up, and there was that joy that Tommy loved so much. “You got me a surprise! You didn’t have to…but I am glad you did,” his grin blossomed into a huge smile, melting Tommy’s heart on the spot.

Paul reached out and grabbed Tommy’s hand, pulling him out of the room. “We’re about to open presents in the living room. I didn’t want to start without you,” he said softly. Tommy blushed and followed Paul’s lead eagerly, ignoring Eric and Gene’s playful taunts the entire way back.

Once inside the living room, everyone gathered around Paul as he opened up his various exquisite gifts from Rolex watches to fine silk bed sheets.

“Alright, this is from Gene,” Paul said, picking up a random present from the table.

“Ha! Oh, this is going to be good,” Eric snorted, smacking his gum loudly. Gene gave Eric a stern look, which the Catman only gave a cheeky smirk in return.

Paul unwrapped the present, only to find a box. He opened the box and saw what looked like a wooden knife block with a knife in it. Paul pulled the knife out, dropping it in horror.

“Ah! What the hell, Gene?”

“What? It’s a Nesmuk! Didn’t you say you wanted one?” Gene crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, I did, but why the hell is it stained red?” Paul asked in disgust.

Everyone eyed the suspicious red substance all over the knife blade and then looked up at Gene with weirded out expressions.

“What? It’s just strawberry jam. Eric didn’t wash the dishes so I had to use the knife to make a sandwich,” Gene explained casually.

“So, instead of just washing a butter knife yourself you just used the expensive fine German cutting knife?” Eric laughed in between loud gum smacks.

“Uh, yeah, it’s still a utensil!” Gene defended abrasively.

“Well, um, thanks Gene,” Paul said with an obvious forced smile. He then reached for another gift in the pile.

“This one is from Eric,” Paul said, reading the tag.

Eric grinned in excitement as Paul unwrapped his gift.

“It’s a Nick Fouquet hat! By why is it flat?” he pouted, examining the squished black hat with a few dented blue feathers on the side.

“Gene accidentally sat on it,” Eric replied with crossed arms.

Gene merely shrugged as he continued munching on his chocolate cake.

Paul put the hat aside. “We should all head up to my studio. Apparently, Tommy has a marvelous surprise for me that I’m just dying to see,” he grinned at Tommy.

“I wanted to save the best for last,” he whispered in Tommy’s ear, causing the younger man to blush as he led the group up to Paul’s art studio.

Everyone oooh’d and ahhh’d over the beautiful acrylic paint display, but no one was more intrigued than Paul, of course.

“Is this the entire Liquitex Professional Acrylic Paint collection?” Paul asked in awe, circling around the magnificent seventy-two canned pyramid like an excited child on Christmas morning. “You got all of this for me!?”

Tommy couldn’t stop the large grin from spreading across his face even if he wanted to. “Yeah, I sure did.”

Without warning Paul pulled Tommy into a tight loving hug. “Thank you so much, Tommy! I love it!” he cheered, kissing Tommy on the cheek. “He taught me how to paint!” the birthday boy bragged to everyone in the room. Tommy’s cheeks burned hot as he leaned closer into the warm embrace. He wished he could stay in this position with Paul forever.

Breaking away from the hug, Paul still kept his arms around Tommy. “I want to test the colors out on a blank canvas,” he smiled, turning to grab a clean canvas.

As Paul was carrying a large canvas over, Tommy noticed the lone red paint can he had left in the middle of the floor carelessly. Quickly, he rushed over to retrieve the can to prevent Paul from tripping over it, but, unfortunately, Tommy’s foot caught a nearby easel causing him to lose his balance. Everything happened so fast. Before Tommy could get his wits about him, his arms, hands, the floor, and the unfinished painting were covered in red paint.

Surprised gasps filled the room as everyone grew quiet, staring down the clumsy guitarist.

“Nice fall, Grace!” Eric bellowed out loud, breaking the awkward silence.

“Did you have a nice trip?” Gene chimed in, making the already embarrassing situation ten times worse!

Tommy’s face flushed red. “I’m s...so sorry!” He stood up wobbly, looking around for some paper towels. He felt delirious as if he was trapped in some sort of nightmare.

“My painting!” Paul cried out, dropping the new canvas to rush over to inspect the damage done on his precious art work.

That precious glimmer in his eyes had dulled. That beautiful radiant smile had become a frown. That look of disappointment plastered on his face would forever haunt Tommy in his dreams. Several nosy bystanders had snapped out of their trance, rushing over with paper towels to help clean up the mess.

“Paul, I’m sorry,” Tommy’s voice cracked, staring at the other man helplessly.

Paul didn’t even look at him. He just stood motionless, staring at the ruined painting in silence. Tommy couldn’t bear it anymore and rushed off to the nearby bathroom, turning on the water faucet and pumping lots of soap into his hands. With a sad sigh, he scrubbed his hands and arms in the soapy water with fury. He wanted nothing more than to erase the evidence of his great blunder. The bright red paint residue mixed with the white soap had turned into a hideous pinkish color stained onto his skin. Who was he kidding? It would take days for this accursed color to come out. Just another painful daily reminder of how he ruined Paul’s birthday.

Tommy held his head down in shame, feeling completely ashamed and angry at himself for what had happened. He knew Paul had worked hard on that painting. All those relentless hours down the drain and all because of one careless mistake.

Paul knocked on the bathroom door before entering. “Tommy? Are you alright?”

Tommy took a deep breath and faced Paul. “Paul, I’m so sorry I ruined your painting. I just feel awful for what I did.”

“Ruined it?” Paul blinked at him. “You just made it even better.”

Tommy looked over in confusion. He wasn’t expecting that kind of response out of Paul. “What do you mean?”

Paul grinned, putting a plaster tool in Tommy’s hand. “Come on, we both started this, let’s finish it together.”

Tommy followed Paul back into the studio and observed the painting. The red and brown had mixed into a gorgeous burgundy color with hints of blue and green on the edges. The guests were buzzing around the painting like bees to honey, commenting on what a superb color that was. Gene and Eric stood dumbfounded, unable to figure out what everyone was so excited about. Gently, Paul put his hand on Tommy’s hand, guiding the plaster tool onto the canvas. Everyone watched closely as the two men moved like one. In one swift motion they had melded the gorgeous deep reddish colored form into a heart shape.

“Beautiful,” Paul whispered, his eyes surveying the gorgeous masterpiece.

Tommy nodded in agreement. “Beautiful,” he agreed.

Paul looked up to see that Tommy wasn't looking at the painting but at him instead. The two leaned in closer, sharing a gentle kiss.

~There are no mistakes, only happy accidents~ Bob Ross

#tanookikiss #kiss fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #oneshot #SpaceChild #DemonCat #tommy x paul #Gene x Eric S

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silassmythe · 7 years

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It’s Nothing Personal | Self Para

WHO: Silas Smythe, Julian Fitzgerald with mentions of @jimmyclip and @kotahums

WHEN: Early March 2017; after the You Will Be Found para

WHERE: Julian’s apartment, Local Colour Gallery in Little Rock

SUMMARY: Silas feels like he’s ready to take the next step in his and Julian’s relationship. Julian, however, has other plans.

WARNINGS: mentions of self-loathing, small anxiety attack in descriptions

NOTES: I apologize for the feels

The bed Silas laid in was comfortable; one he laid in many times before. He could hear Julian in the bathroom; the water was running. After a long night of doing everything but sleeping, Julian usually always showered first thing in the morning. It's how things worked. A night of rendezvous, a morning of showering and going their separate ways until the cycle repeated. Silas was to shower after Julian; but by the time he got out Julian would be long gone. Off to work and doing what he did. It was almost routine. But Silas wanted to break that routine. Slipping out of bed he tugged on his boxers and sat on the edge, waiting for the water to turn off. "Have fun without me?" He asked, smirking as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair. Julian scoffed playfully, shaking his head as he adjusted his towel. "Like that's an option." Silas' eyes peeked. Now this was his chance. "So... I was wondering..." "Oh no." "Shut up. There's an art show coming to Little Rock next weekend. Would you want to go with me?" He knew it was a bad idea. What he had with Julian was an urge-only thing. They hooked up; that was that. No dates; no fancy over the top little things that should come with a relationship. But Silas was blind by attraction and well, dick. He couldn't see how this was all one sided. "Sure, why not." The response took Silas by shock but he wasn't complaining. He nodded, hiding the smile behind a stoic expression as he stood to take his own shower. "Great, I'll text you." It was only after he closed the bathroom door behind him that he let his smile take over his face. It was odd for him to be this happy over a boy. He hadn't been this happy since his brief time with Kota; but even that was short lived. He tended to keep his emotions to himself after Kota; not taking the chances out of fear of getting hurt. But this time, he wanted to take the chance. As far as he knew, Julian seemed to care. Sure, their relationship started off unconventional in a bar, leading to hookups every other night but it was something. It was better than nothing. And while he thought that Julian cared about him, he really, really cared about Julian. They were similar enough; sarcastic and without a filter when it came to bullshit. To Silas, that was good enough. In reality, he seemed desperate. Reaching for something that may not be there. Hoping for a fairytale ending that only happened in the books. But in the moment, he was blind. He bought the tickets during the brief time when he stopped at home to get changed before work. And he was giddy the rest of the day. Hell, he was giddy for the rest of the week. Excited and ecstatic that Julian had even said yes. He had started planning; something he rarely did because he never went on dates. To him, this was a date. But to Julian, Silas wasn't sure what he considered it. Still blindsided, Silas almost went all out. But he settled on a simple dinner at a diner, then they'd go to the art show. Simple, memorable, and not too romantic. It was enough for Silas to be happy with but not enough for Julian to be scared away by. He knew he tended to overdo it sometimes, and he was hoping that this was toned down enough. He wasn’t a serious romantic, but he did like to pamper those he cared about.

That was the thing about Silas. When he cared about someone, or something, he put all his time in it. He became invested in everything they did, and in some cases it bordered obsessive. If it was an art project, he’d be locked in his room, spending hours hunched over his canvas until it was completed. When he started working on tattoos, he once bought out a supermarket’s worth of oranges just so he could practice enough to get it right. To be the best he could be. It’s why when he had to go and get Jimmy, he felt like such a failure. He had one job with his siblings; to be there for them whenever they needed him. To protect them from heartache; to protect them from whatever life throws at them. And seeing Jimmy so broken, so defeated; it broke Silas down piece by piece. Because he didn’t feel like he had done enough for his sibling. He didn’t feel like he had done his job.

His obsessive personality really took control in his mind that day; making a promise to be there for Jimmy from that point on. Even if Jimmy didn’t want him there. He tried not to let his obsessive side show, to not become invested in everything to the point where it would get out of hand. He was pretty good at controlling it. And it came in handy; it was how he was able to not only get into Harvard but also keep his marks in the higher rankings while also taking time to party with his frat brothers. It wasn’t always bad. At least, he tried not to think about that.

When the night rolled around, Silas’ nerves got the better of him but he pushed it down in exchange for making sure things went as smoothly as possible. He found himself triple checking the time, making sure he looked just the right mix of dressy casual, and even went as far as to removing and replacing the tickets in various pockets that he had on him so he wouldn’t lose them ( he settled on the inside pocket of his jacket ). And at six thirty, he sent Julian the text that he was on his way and he would be at Julian’s place soon. He could feel his palms growing sweaty as he made the drive, frequently finding himself wiping his palms on his jeans. He had to remind himself that things were going to be okay.

When Julian stepped into the car, Silas had to refrain from reaching over and kissing him then and there.

The man looked good. That was for certain. He was dressed in a similar fashion to Silas; not too dressy, not too casual. The perfect outfit for a date to dinner and an art show.

The drive to Little Rock was filled with the soft music from Silas’ phone playing; it was his music but Julian had decided which ones were going to be played. Silas didn’t mind; however. Julian had greatly impacted his music taste anyways. They didn’t talk a lot, only a few comments here or there and Silas couldn’t place whether or not Julian was just enjoying the content silence or if he was feeling just as nervous as Silas was.

Pulling into the diner, Silas took a deep breath before he left his car. Things were going to be okay. They were going to work out in his favor. They had to. He had done so much planning; had done so much to make sure everything went smoothly. He led Julian into the diner and to a booth that was slightly secluded, but not enough to make anyone on a casual date feel uncomfortable.

“Because nothing says fancy art show like a dinner at Denny’s, right?” Julian asked, despite the sarcasm in his voice he had a smile on his face -- a genuine one. It made Silas’ heart melt a little bit.

“I figured nobody could appreciate artwork on an empty stomach. It was either here or that fancy steak place down the street.” He shrugged, a teasing tone to his voice.

They ordered and ate in silence. And Silas should have caught onto the looks that Julian was giving passerbys; he should have seen the way Julian’s eyes lingered just a tad too long on someone through the glass window. He should have caught on to the way that what he was trying to talk about, was going in one ear and out the other with Julian. But Silas was blind, and lost in his own serendipity where he would be happy with Julian and Julian would be happy with him. He didn’t see the things that Julian was doing because he was too focused on the idea that he had constructed in his mind; the idea of a beautiful, happy relationship and he had become obsessed with it. But he didn’t see a single thing wrong.

They left the diner with full stomachs and Silas’ next plan for the night was set into motion. The drive from Denny’s to Local Colour Gallery, where the art show was being held was a short one; one that they probably could have walked if Silas trusted his shaking knees. As they waited in line to get into the venue, Silas had to keep himself from reaching over to hold Julian’s hand. To feel Julian’s hand in his own; the hand he had felt on his body just over a week ago. But he hadn’t asked Julian to be his yet. That would wait for later. He could feel his nerves settling in and while most of the time he’d be chatting up others in line, much like what Julian was doing, he found himself getting lost in his head. Obsessing over what he could do to make the night better.

He looked over at Julian. The man seemed to be enjoying himself. He was talking to someone in line about the music scene of Little Rock. At least, from what Silas could hear over his thoughts. He didn’t notice the wink that Julian had sent to the man wearing the scarf. Didn’t notice the subtle exchange of numbers with the woman in red. Didn’t notice the lingering touches the woman in black left on Julian’s shoulder. All he could think about was how he was going to ask Julian to be his later that night.

They entered the gallery and Silas took the first chance of the night. He linked arms with Julian, leading him through the gallery and reading aloud the plaques that accompanied the paintings. He was in his element; embracing the work of oils and acrylics that he himself loved to work with. And Julian seemed content with it all. He would squeeze Silas’ arm when he was interested, or look away when he wasn’t. Silas understood why some of it seemed boring to Julian; art wasn’t for everyone after all.

They had stopped in front of the painting titled Strong Hearts by Bob Snider. It was one he had read about online, and he was excited to see it in person. Silas always had an apt for watercolor, despite not working with it frequently in his own time. But it was the racing horses that gave him the confidence to do what he wanted to do. After reading the plaque out loud he took a breath, turned to Julian with wide, eager eyes and dropped the man’s arm.

“I have a question.” He asked.

Julian didn’t look at him, but hummed to let Silas know he was listening.

“We’ve been... doing this whole, hooking up thing for a while... And I was wondering if you wanted to take things a step further. If you wanted to... you know... be my boyfriend?”

He was hopeful. His eyes were still wide, anticipating the answer that Julian would give. In his mind, Julian had already said yes. In his mind, they were happy. They were content, together, and discussing moving in with each other.

( Things always moved faster in his head ).

In his head, things were going his way.

Julian had fell silent once again. He was looking at the painting, and seemed to really be taking it in. He glanced at Silas for a moment, raising an eyebrow.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no. Why ruin something that’s going so well?”

Silas was confused. “But if things are going well, why not try this? I mean... I really like you, Julian.”

“And I like your body, Silas. I don’t do relationships. Yeah what we have is fun but I’m getting laid all the time. I’m not about to get tied down.”

Silas swallowed, attempting to keep calm. “But you said you cared --”

Julian sighed. “I said that in post-orgasm, Silas.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that and not mean it.”

“Well, I did.”

He could feel his breathing picking up again. This wasn’t how things were going to go. Things were supposed to work out. They were supposed to be happy. He was supposed to be happy. He was supposed to work this out -- he was supposed to succeed at something.

“Julian --”

“I said no, Silas.” Julian had stepped towards him, placing his hands on the collar of his blazer and tugging a little bit. “Now if you can get that little fantasy out of your head so we can continue this night, we can go back to my place and rendezvous a little bit so you can forget all about it.”

Silas felt sick. He shook his head, pushing Julian back gently by his chest. “No. No I’m not going to do that. Who do you think you are? Fucking with my feelings only to throw me to the side?”

“Silas we’ve been over this. What we have is purely physical.”

A crowd was forming. Silas could feel his anger building. “You told me you cared. You told me that I made you happy. You told me that you saw something great in me.”

“And I tell that to a lot of people that I sleep with. It’s nothing personal, Silas. It’s just who I am.” Julian shrugged and took a step back, taking a drink from one of the caterers passing by.

“So what was I? Just a good fuck?” His voice was raising and he could feel his voice shaking. This wasn’t okay. Things weren’t going okay.

“As much as I hate to say it, yeah. We’re friends with benefits, Silas, but we don’t exactly make the best of friends.”

Silas shook his head. His hands were shaking as he pushed them through his hair; his throat was tight. He was about to say something more when a man stepped up to them.

“Sir, if this is going to escalate I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Silas shook his head again. “No sir, sorry. I was just leaving.”

The man nodded and turned away.

Silas turned back to Julian. “You can kiss my ass goodbye, Julian. You’re nothing but an asshole.” He ground out, turning once again on his heel and walking towards the door.

He didn’t care that Julian didn’t follow him. He didn’t care that Julian didn’t have a way home. He didn’t care that Julian was probably flirting it up with everyone in the venue. Because now he saw it. Now he realized that when he and Julian were together -- all the time -- Julian’s head was elsewhere. Always searching for the latest fuck. Always searching for the next victim to lure in with his alluring eyes, his passionate heart and his body made of stone. And that’s what he hated the most, because now he saw it all.

He drove home, stopping just inside the Cotton Plant town limits to break down on the side of the road. And it was then that he vowed to himself to protect his heart above everything else. To protect himself, and to protect his family, so he never had to endure this kind of pain again. Because if he didn’t feel good enough before, he surely didn’t feel good enough now.

#p. self #p.#p. it's nothing personal #ft. julian #ft. jimmy #ft. kota #self loathing tw #anxiety attack tw

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