#the original and it might sound demeaning/offensive if taken to mean what it is originally then you might want to avoid using it 2) if you

[sundayrobin]

is it just me or does the way ppl talk about non-english speaking artists in fandom spaces tend to feel... infantilizing? like i get that we have to be mindful of how certain english words might translate (especially with slang words where the meaning differs by a lot from the original one) but they're also not some kind of alien living in a completely separate world from the rest of you where they can't possibly understand english words except if you talk to them like they're a toddler

[thatishogwash]

Bad Pick Up Lines

KuroDai Week 2018 May 9, Day Four: Admiration / Bad Habits AO3

Kuroo was nervous.  He didn’t really blame himself as he adjusted his jar of brushes for the fourteenth time or moved his canvas before ultimately moving it to the original spot he had it in.  He brought out extra lights even though he had purposefully chosen this space for its natural lighting.  He thought of putting music on but then thought that might be weird.  Would it make it seem like he was trying to set a mood?  He was trying to set a mood but not that kind of mood.

Kuroo Tetsurou knew how fortunate and lucky he was to have the career he did.  It’s not to say he didn’t fight and bleed and lose countless hours of sleep over it.  He worked in shitty jobs for years, stayed in tiny apartments with far too many roommates, did everything he could to save up for just a couple mid-line paints and brushes.  He worked himself to the bone and then continued to work just for the small hope that someday, someday he could do what he loved.

Now Kuroo could comfortably live as a full time artist.  He had permanent art installations at actual museums and not just in Japan either, his art was being shown in twelve different countries around the world.  He had an assistant that kept tabs on his schedule and filtered through all the commissions he got.  Kuroo still worked his ass off but now it was doing something he loved, something he had worked so hard to achieve.

It didn’t mean that everything was perfect.  There was something whispered amongst artists of all different mediums, something that felled even the best.  The dreaded artist block.

Kuroo had faced a couple in his couple decades of life.  He had always managed to power through it, to find inspiration or a muse from something.  But Kuroo had basically run through every single modeling agency he usually contacted when he needed real life models.  He had taken to venturing out to random places to see if anyone fit what he needed.

The commissioned pieces for his next art installation were half done.  The first half had been done in record timing, almost laughably easy.  His model had been tall, nearly amazonian with lean muscles and a grace of a professional dancer.  Those pieces leaned against the wall, laughing at him.

Kuroo had become desperate.  Hope came in the form of his taciturn assistant who sometimes Kuroo could have sworn wanted to watch Kuroo burn out.  Tsukishima Kei was equal parts the best and worst assistant Kuroo had ever had.  Definitely the worst had been the walking disaster known as Haiba Lev, who had thankfully been taken off of Kuroo’s hands by a modelling agency who liked the look of the half-Russian and wasn’t too concerned with his puppy dog like attitude.  The best had Akaashi Keiji, who might have referred to Kuroo as pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo but was still the best damn assistant anyone could ever ask for.  Of course he just had to graduate school and get a fantastic job in his field and fall in love with Kuroo’s traitor of a best friend Bokuto Koutarou.

But that was neither here nor there.  The point was just when Kuroo was on a verge of a nervous breakdown and was thinking about burning his own studio down, disappearing into the night, and changing his name Tsukishima stepped in.  Kuroo thought it was mostly self preservation on Tsukishima’s part.  As much as the younger man complained about the workload, Kuroo knew he paid better than any job a broke full-time student could make.

So Tsukishima had suggested a different sort of company to book a model through.  The type of company that might help lonely people out, someone might pay them for a date or other things.

It was an escort company and Kuroo had hired an escort.

Truthfully Kuroo had hired seventeen escorts and none of them had been the right fit.  Kuroo didn’t even want to question how Tsukishima knew about the company since he couldn’t find a single trace of it online.  Kuroo didn’t worry about his reputation much.  Hiring an escort would probably be on the tame side for the rumors floating around about him.

Kuroo had gotten desperate and the man he always talked to when booking the escorts had sounded rough and annoyed.  Kuroo had assured him repeatedly that he just needed a model for some sketches and maybe a painting or two.  Yes they would have to remove their clothes but a pair of biking shorts could be worn.

The man had sighed and told Kuroo he was sending a guy his way.

Kuroo was nervous.  The impending failure of an unfinished commissioned piece made Kuroo want to hole up in his apartment and never come out.  So much was riding on this and he was being sent an escort he didn’t even choose.

A knock at the door had Kuroo flinching so bad he knocked over the jar of brushes he had been anxiously touching and he managed to kick over his easel.

“Uh- come on, the doors unlocked!”  Kuroo yelled as he attempted to pull himself together while putting everything back into its place.  “Hi!  Hello.  Hey.”  Kuroo wanted to cover his face as his soul attempted to leave his body out of sheer embarrassment.  Three greetings?  Really?

“Hi, hello, hey.”  The man by the door surprised Kuroo, not just from his cheeky greeting but by his looks.

Kuroo had been surprised with each escort he had met.  Every single one vastly different from the last and none of them really screamed escort to Kuroo, which he guessed was kind of the point.  Also he felt a little judgemental about his preconceived notions of escorts too.

The man in front of Kuroo took all those notions about what Kuroo thought escorts looked or acted like, pushed it into the garbage disposal and turned it on until there was nothing left.  He looked like the type who would feel perfectly comfortable with a toddler on his hip as he enjoyed a backyard barbeque with his neighbors.  He looked like he played some type of sport on the weekends and worked in an office where he was always bringing in treats for the rest of his floor.

The man looked plain and boring, as if he could blend seamlessly into a crowd of businessmen.

“Is that Toothless?”  The man, the escort asked, seemingly surprising even himself.  Kuroo didn’t blame him, not many people came into his studio but even Tsukishima showed the slightest shock when he walked in to see a life-size version of Toothless taking up the back portion of the studio.

“Yeah,” Kuroo answered with a grin, finally feeling a bit like himself.  “My friend Oikawa, his son is having a How to Train Your Dragon themed party and I just really enjoy being liked by his kid so much more than him.”  The admission surprised a laugh out of the man but with surprise of his own, Kuroo realized that he had purposefully distracted Kuroo.

He was a lot more cunning than his looks let on and Kuroo found himself enjoying that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m Sawamura.”  Sawamura took a couple steps over to Kuroo and held out his hand.  It was a firm handshake, Sawamura’s hands were calloused and warm.

“Kuroo.”  Kuroo stretched out his fingers by his side, still feeling the warm tingly after effects from the handshake.

“So I’m going to be truthful, this is all kind of new to me.”  Sawamura gave a self deprecating grin and oh, he was so good.  Kuroo would have to pay close attention because with one little sentence he had managed to put Kuroo at ease and in charge without either having to really talk about it.  “I took an Art History class once and it was way beyond me.”

“Well why don’t you take your jacket off and get comfortable?  I’m just going to start with some warm up sketches.”  Kuroo stepped behind his easel, glancing over at Sawamura as he pulled his jacket off, causing the plain dark gray shirt underneath to pull tight against his torso.  Without the jacket Kuroo could see that Sawamura was built better than the dad-bod Kuroo had been expecting.  His shoulders were broad and they tampered off into a trim waist with rather impressive arms.

Kuroo started to draw those shoulders, trying to work out the muscles and bone beneath and how they moved and shifted.  Sawamura wandered around the studio, taking a closer look at Toothless, which would be rideable when Kuroo was finished with it.  He was excited to leave Tsukishima with the task of actually getting it to Oikawa’s house back in Miyagi in one piece.

Then Sawamura moved to the long table pushed against the far left side of the studio.  Kuroo opened his mouth but quickly closed it as he got a good look at Sawamura’s back.  He normally didn’t allow people to see his work in progress or his failed works, all of which were spread across that table, but Sawamura was proving a good study.  There was something unique in the plainess, something intriguing past the neat hair and clean cut look.

“These are all for the project your working on?”  Kuroo didn’t correct Sawamura about the term project, it clearly wasn’t meant to be demeaning or offensive.

“Sort of?  They are all the models I’ve tried but something didn’t click.”  Kuroo answered honestly, feeling more at ease with every passing moment.  He had no idea how someone could be such a calming personality and make Kuroo feel as if he was challenging him at every turn.  “None of them fit my first model.  Could you take off your shirt?”

“Like mixing fluorine to hydrogen.”  Sawamura mumbled as he did as asked.  Kuroo was almost too distracted by the stretch of newly revealed muscles to miss the joke, almost being the keyword.

“Did you just make a chemical reaction joke?”  Kuroo asked, earning a grin from Sawamura.  “Hey Sawamura?  You must be chlorine because you are polarizing my bond.”  Sawamura stared at him in muted horror before tossing his head back and laughing.

“That was so bad!”  Sawamura moved closer to Kuroo.  “How many of those have you got?”

“Please Sawamura, I am a professional.”  Kuroo continued to sketch, glancing up at an expecting looking Sawamura.  “My favorite attractive force is van der Waal’s force.  Can you feel it?  I’ll move closer if you can’t.”  Sawamura laughed again, that deep belly type laugh that made Kuroo intake a little too much air.

The rest of the time passed in sharing bad pick up lines and Kuroo was surprised when his phone beeped, signalling the end of their time.  He had moved on from quick sketches to more detailed ones, the floor around him was covered with pieces of Sawamura.  Kuroo had discovered a faint scar on his cheek, the middle and pointer knuckles on his left hand were swollen, his lips pulled up a little higher on the left side then right when he smiled, and several other minute things he could have easily overlooked when he brushed Sawamura off as plain.

“Thank you.”  Kuroo said with real feeling because he finally felt as if he was seeing a light at the end of his dark, artist block tunnel.

“I didn’t really do much.”  Sawamura shrugged though Kuroo couldn’t be but disagree.  He gave the studio one last glance around as he pulled on his jacket.  “All of this, everything you’ve managed to create even your petty life sized dragon-” A flashing, cunning grin at this.  “It’s all amazing.  It’s really admirable, what you do.  Pulling nothing out of your mind with just some paper and pencils, sticking with it even after three dozen different models.”  Kuroo could feel a creeping blush at this.  He hadn’t realized he really needed to hear that until someone said it.

“I think what you do is really admirable too!”  Kuroo rushed out.  “I know your job can’t be easy but you came in here with confidence, not knowing what was in store for you and you made this easy and enjoyable.  Thank you, really.”  Sawamura wasn’t smiling though as Tsukishima came in through the door.

“What do you think my job is exactly?”  Sawamura asked, eyes narrowed.  Tsukishima paused before turning on his heel to walk out.  “Don’t even think about it Tsukishima.”  Kuroo had never seen Tsukishima listen to anyone as well as he listened to Sawamura in that moment.

“I’m sorry?  Is it not okay to talk about it?”  Kuroo asked worriedly, wondering if he had somehow insulted Sawamura.  Tsukishima’s back was to them but his head ducked down.

“Talk about what?”  Sawamura said.  “Say it.”

“You’re an escort?”  Kuroo meant to say it as a statement but it came out as more of a question.  Tsukishima’s bean pole body seemed to slump forward at Kuroo’s words.

“I’m a what now?”  Sawamura practically yelled.  “Tsukishima Kei, what the hell did you tell him?”

It was then that Kuroo realized there was no escort business that Tsukishima knew about.  He had his old volleyball coach pretend to be some sort of pimp while sending various friends and acquaintances of Tsukishima’s to Kuroo.  Turned out that Sawamura really did work in an office during the week and played with a neighborhood association team during the weekends.

“So then, is it okay if I ask you out?”  Kuroo asked to Tsukishima’s obvious horror.

“Please no Sawamura, you could do so much better.”  Tsukishima said quickly.

“I’m telling Kageyama that you sent Hinata and Yamaguchi out as pretend escorts to your boss.”  Sawamura deadpanned.  Kuroo had yet to meet Tsukishima’s longterm boyfriend Kageyama but from what he had heard he was a pretty intense young man and the only one able to wring any sort of remorse from the emotionless Tsukishima.  “And yes it is, but I’m paying.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but grin at that.