Watching It [BXB]

Chapter 21

"You promised you'd draw me."

It was an impulsive decision he made to grab the notebook as he left since this was the perfect chance for it. He was rewarded for it with Tate's surprised gasp and the way he burst into another fit of laughter, clutching the notebook to his chest as he did so.

"You weren't supposed to remember I said that," he said with surprising honesty. Tate was different today, in a way that Peter was really enjoying.

Nonetheless he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You promised," he repeated.

Tate bit his lip, tapping the empty page he was thoughtfully gazing at with the pencil. "Okay," he relented. He opened the book obligatorily and started sketching in broad strokes.

"Hey hey I ain't even picked a pose yet," Peter complained. He thought about it and decided to look off to the side, hand on his chin like he was thinking.

"You don't need to pose for me to sketch you," Tate said dismissively, barely even looking up. "I already know exactly what you look like." Something in his tone got to Peter and he felt something strange – a little flutter? – in his chest. Was that a compliment? Instead of addressing it he leaned on his legs, watching Tate work.

It started off looking like some light and dark lines and Peter had no idea where he was going with it. Before long Tate's expression changed to one of deep focus, long blonde strands of hair falling into his face like a curtain and his lips sucked in to nibble on thoughtfully. Peter smirked, thinking he looked like one of those artistic heartthrobs in cheesy romantic movies.

As much as he could have just watched him like that the whole time, Peter also hated long silences, whether they were uncomfortable or not. He racked his brain for something to talk about that wouldn't steal all Tate's attention away from the drawing, and remembered how little he knew about the guy's personal life. Thinking back to last week he said, "tell me a fishing story."

Thankfully, Tate was too deep in concentration to be so easily interrupted but he still responded without missing a beat. "Off the top of my head?"

"No, I mean one about your dad and your sister. Didn't you say y'all used to go fishing?"

Tate exhaled slowly, his nose twitching a little. He didn't look up at Peter but Peter could tell he was still reluctant to say anything. It stung to think maybe Tate still didn't trust him yet. As he was about to tell Tate not to worry about it, the blonde exhaled again a lot more deeply.

"It started when I was six," he said. "My pops had to force me out the first few times but after that I'd start coming with willingly and sometimes Andy and I would just go by ourselves. It became my favorite part of the summer. Back then Pops had a bait shop with a dock that a lot of the dads around town used for their boats but a few years ago it closed down. The fishing trips stopped, Andy and I grew up and-"

Tate's pencil strokes slowed down and his lips moved into an uncomfortable smile. "I come out here by myself now. It's the only time I get to relax and think my thoughts and... be myself." Tate stopped drawing completely, tapping the page with the pencil a few times and let out a long sigh. "Sorry. I'm being a wet towel."

"Rather a wet towel than a dry conversation," Peter remarked honestly. He was just grateful for learning anything about Tate at all.

Much to his surprise Tate went on to say, "you should keep asking me stuff. I'll try not to be so depressing every time but-" He brushed his hair behind his ear and bit his lip anxiously, still not looking up. "I'm trying. I'm not used to opening up."

Peter smiled softly with a strong sense of empathy. He could completely relate, he hated being too personal with just anybody even if he found himself doing so naturally when he was with Tate. It sent a warm, bubbly feeling from his chest through his whole body that Tate finally trusted him that much.

"That's a dangerous offer, Tate. Allowing me to ask whatever I want? Thought you'd know better by now."

"Guess I should," Tate said with an amused smirk.

He started drawing again with long, deep, controlled strokes. Peter couldn't see what he was doing but it was enchanting enough to just watch his long steady fingers work. After a few minutes he shifted the position of the pencil and made a bunch of circular movements that clearly meant he was working on the hair, and Peter had to laugh at that.

"Yeah I know," Tate said with a smile, but his hands continued in the skillful motions. "Okay, it's... done," he said after a few final strokes. He gave it an unsatisfied once over. "It's not great... just a basic sketch really," he added self-consciously, slowly lifting the book to reveal the drawing.

"Hold on," Peter gasped, unable to resist the urge and finally getting out his boat dangerously to plop down in front of Tate. He grabbed the notebook to get a closer look. "Wait just a minute. You did this right now? While I was sitting here?"

Peter's jaw dropped as he scanned Tate's 'basic sketch', which was ultrarealistic and detailed for the time he did it in. Funnily enough he drew Peter in the pose he struck and somehow made it look better, with an easy smile and a bright glint in his eye. And his hair, even though he thought it'd be curly scribbles, was actually well defined. The way the locks in the picture fell was also pretty damn life-like.

"I think this looks better than I do in person," he added as he stared at it absent-mindedly.

Tate pushed his hair back shyly, shrugging his shoulders. "Well it is your portrait." Again, it had the tone of a compliment and this time Peter got to see Tate's face flush as he said it, twiddling with the pencil he was still holding. "I-I mean it's a picture of you so... It's supposed to look like you, not the other way around-"

"You mean, 'not bad'?" Peter asked with a cheeky grin, much like the one in the portrait. He liked remembering that, and he'd keep bringing it up as long as it got a reaction out of Tate.

Tate blushed turning his head away with a click of his tongue. "Sh-shut up," he said meekly.

An unabashed, mouthy Tate was definitely the best kind, Peter decided. As Peter watched him twirl his fingers in the conversational lull, he thought about how in general he was a complete breath of fresh air – someone he needed around and someone he felt the whole gang would love. Even with how timid he could be he was sure Tate would fit right in.

Both of them spoke suddenly and at the same time, neither hearing what the other said. Hoping it was either another snide remark or an accidental compliment, Peter nodded for him to go ahead.

"Oh, I was just thinking..." He paused anxiously for a few seconds, biting his lip and tucking back a few stray strands of hair and Peter watched him do that since it really caught his attention. "Maybe... I could come next time you're with your friends... if that's okay.

Peter was admittedly distracted when Tate spoke, so he thought maybe he'd heard wrong. It couldn't be that easy. He shot questioning eyes at Tate who wasn't looking at him directly, but still seemed confident in his request.

"I said I'd try, so I'll try. J-Jade and Zo seem really sweet..." Peter gawked at a very different Tate than he first met with a tilted head and tensed brow. If this was the result of a week's absence, then maybe it was worth it. Not that he'd be willing to let it happen again. With Peter still staring, Tate flushed, proving that he was still the same person after all.

"It'll be fun, right?" he mumbled weakly.

Peter blinked a few times before finally erupting in excited cheers, grabbing Tate by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth. "Of course it will!"

Tate laughed, his hair messily falling into his face and without him rushing to brush it back. He glanced to this right after a little and stiffened so Peter stopped moving him.

"Peter," he said, with another glance to the side. "Your boat's floating away."

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Preview:

"You guys, look who's here!"