Written Wonderland

In his embarrassment at the sound that had escaped him, he almost didn't notice the way that Cory's fingers pressed--ever so briefly--against his own, their soft, tentative touch full of what Juniper understood of the man's curiosity and observant interest. The intentionality of the touch delighted Juniper, releasing a tension in his ribcage before he quite understood why.

Juniper felt Cory's eyes on him, and he turned toward the man in response, sensing a magnetism between them. Juniper's own lips parted and his brows pulled up and together in a nervous furrow. If the touch they had just shared had confirmed it--that they were both interested in each other--somehow that was more terrifying than the thought of rejection. How on earth would they keep this to themselves?

Cory held Juniper's gaze, and Juniper smiled slightly, urging his expression to warm, to welcome Cory in, even knowing the risks. He wanted to take Cory into his arms, hold him close, protect him from the violence the world might enact on them both, but ah, he was getting ahead of himself. He began to wonder if it all had just been an accident.

"Juniper," Cory said, and Juniper closed his eyes, enjoying again the three syllables of his own name as they fell from Cory's lips. He let out a soft breath of what must have been unmistakable pleasure, exposing the raw nerve of just how many times Juniper had replayed the moment of Cory initially testing out the sounds of Juniper's name.

Again, Juniper thought Cory might touch him, seal some certainty in Juniper's heart that, yes, they were truly in this together before the moment passed, but nothing came. Juniper opened his eyes and looked at Cory, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly in hopeful pleading.

"Have you ever been drawn?"

Juniper's tentative eyebrow now rose of its own accord, and Juniper's chest filled and moved forward slightly with surprise as he almost lost his breath. Slowly, so slowly, he brought his attention back to the sketch before them before turning back at the same speed toward Cory again, wanting so badly to take the man's hands, both of them, and wonder at the soft curves Juniper might find there.

Instead, Juniper met Cory's eyes, full of what Juniper wanted to call hopeful yearning as Cory looked up at him with wet pools of golden brown.

Yes, Juniper thought before he realized that the artist had not yet issued an invitation. And certainly, Cory had not offered to draw Juniper nude, though that was surely an understandable conclusion to have come to, given the context.

"No, never," Juniper said, breathlessly, unwilling to pull away from the warmth of Cory's gaze. He was tempted to reflect the question, out of habit, but that didn't actually feel like it would match the vulnerability Cory had already shown, even though Juniper was curious. No, it was high time Juniper offered Cory some certainty of his own, wasn't it?

"I can only imagine how intimate that might feel," Juniper said, thinking of many, many ways he'd like to touch Cory but only managing to take another half-step toward the man in front of him.

Cory lived in each subtle breath that escaped Juniper's lips, in each raise and furrow of his brow. Silence passed between them for what felt like an eternity, but Cory held fast, weathering the uncertainty as slowly, Juniper's gaze turned to the nude sketches beside them, and returned to Cory just as tentatively. Cory's gaze never left Juniper, patiently waiting while the man before him doubtless bolstered his own confidence, double-checked his own memories, calculated his own risks. But at least... at least Cory was begining to feel more confident that, whatever risk assessment Juniper ultimately made... Cory had picked up on something real. And so at least he could hold that warmth fondly in his chest, even amidst the flurries of butterflies, and even amidst the terror he held at the edge that, if Juniper were a cruel man, Cory could have just made a terrible mistake.

"No, never," Juniper finally said, his voice breathless in a way that made Cory want to caress his fingers delicately down the man's throat. Silent shivers danced down his back at the thought of that breathless voice right by his ear, dancing against skin.

"I can only imagine how intimate that might feel," Juniper added. He took half a step closer to Cory, and a thrill danced up through Cory's stomach, but he held his gaze steady, warm and open and patient. He gave a soft nod, perhaps impulsively--he regretted, just a little, tipping his hand that he himself didn't have to imagine, but hopefully Juniper wouldn't think too much of it, especially not once Cory spoke.

"I would love to draw you, Juniper," Cory said, his own voice serenely breathless.

Cory softly held Juniper's gaze, and Juniper felt his ears strain to pick up even the slightest change of Cory's breathing, any cue that might help him understand the swirling, heady brilliance unfolding in the room around them. While he didn't receive much information about Cory's state, it did give Juniper more confidence that the lull in the crowd outside the room still held--only low, murmured voices carried from the room with tables and chairs.

Cory nodded gently, and Juniper only then wondered if what he had said had been foolish--of course artists drew nudes. It need not always be intimate--it was commonplace. And yet, Juniper had wanted Cory to know that, for him, it would be. In light of that realization, Juniper already felt naked, but surely Cory would understand that it wasn't ignorance Juniper had been speaking from, not exactly.

"I would love to draw you, Juniper," Cory said, the shape of his gentle smile adding to the breathless sound of the words as they left Cory's lips. Juniper's lids felt heavy, and right in that moment, he would have believed it if someone had told him the punch had been alcoholic. But, no, this was an entirely different form of intoxication, and Juniper hoped it would last beyond the dimmed lighting of this room and its enclosing curtain.

Juniper rubbed his lips together gently, inhaling and wondering what on earth he could say to following something like that.

At last, Juniper needed to break their shared gaze, looking down and to the side at the floor, gathering his thoughts.

"I'd like that very much," Juniper said with a subtle smile, though there was a waver of melancholy in his voice. He didn't want the shadows of doubt and anxiety to close in on this moment. He took another breath, closing his eyes tightly and reassuring himself that Cory wouldn't have offered unless he did want to study Juniper in such a way. And, surely, they could talk about what to keep private, couldn't they? Juniper had a horrid vision of Cory's drawing of him on the front page of a newspaper, but he took another deep breath, opening his eyes again to find reassurance in graceful fall of the artist's light brown waves as they fell toward his shoulders. Juniper's smile recovered.

"Cory..." Juniper said, low and quiet as a whisper, his hand coming up to brush a thumb, feather soft, against Cory's cheek. Still whispering, he said, "I'd like that very much."

Cory's eyes took in every nuance of Juniper's expression, and he allowed himself to see his own influence in the subtle heaviness of the man's lids, the gentle rubbing together of his lips. Cory's chest fluttered with warmth and excitement, for now leaving fear off to the side. For this moment, he wanted to watch his words ripple through this beautiful man before him, and not worry about the many varied directions this might all ultimately lead. This moment was perfect, and Cory would happily stretch it out, cherishing the ways his own body relaxed and breathed with life as the confidence built in him that this man wanted Cory to see him.

At last, Juniper broke their eye contact, though not in a way that deterred Cory's own gaze. He drank in the small smile on Juniper's lips as the man said, "I'd like that very much." His voice wavered, just slightly, melancholy tinging his tone. Then, he took in a breath and closed his eyes tightly, and Cory yearned to hear his story, to soothe and comisserate with what was assuredly not a griefless past. But, he would be patient, and more than content with whatever Juniper chose to show him.

After another deep breath, Juniper opened his eyes again, his gaze first landing on Cory without quite meeting his eyes as his smile recovered. For a short breath, Cory began to worry that Juniper might feel the need to put on a pleasant face for Cory, but that melted away as soon as Juniper spoke.

"Cory..." Juniper said in a low, quiet whisper as he reached out to lightly caress his thumb over Cory's cheek. Cory's eyes widened a little, his lips parting to draw in a subtle, shaky gasp as the warmth of the contact rippled through him. Still whispering, Juniper said again, "I'd like that very much."

Cory gave just the tiniest of nods in response. His eyes were locked with Juniper's, his cheeks surely flush with color, his chest rising and falling with slow and heavy breaths. A million different imaginations tugged at him--to kiss Juniper, or to touch his cheek in turn, or to pull him into an embrace, or to caress the back of his neck and run fingers through his hair. But Cory remained still, paralyzed with a powerful predisposition to follow his partner's lead--especially in environments he lacked confidence in traversing. Truly, he didn't know what the stakes were, should someone walk in and see Juniper's thumb on Cory's cheek, let alone any of the possibilities in Cory's imagination. Not here in New York with a well-to-do businessman at a fancy art gallery in front of nude sketches. As one breath followed another, Cory watched Juniper's eyes, enrapt, and at least mustered the bravery to gently lean his cheek into Juniper's hand, his parted lips re-curling in a hopeful smile. He prayed that would be enough for Juniper to receive his own boost of confidence that Cory wanted Juniper to see him, too.

Cory's eyes widened, and Juniper listened intently to Cory's unsteady breathing. If it hadn't been for Cory's soft smile and the gentle sensation of Cory pressing his cheek subtly toward Juniper's thumb, Juniper might have thought he had overstepped with the artist. But, no, they were sharing this delightful moment together in the awe-inspiring realization that they were each interested in the other.

Juniper was grateful that his typical anxieties could not quite get past the hazy pleasure permeating his mind--he didn't want to think about the future or what Cory thought about the pretenses of this outing or what people might think if they walked in now and saw them like this. Juniper just wanted to enjoy this rarest of opportunities to have confirmation from someone that, yes, there was more here to explore, if he wanted it.

Cory did not shy away from Juniper's gaze, even when he withdrew his thumb, and Juniper savored the eye contact--itself intimate beyond words. He allowed himself to fully take in the artist's face--his round cheeks, arched brows, angled nose--in a way that mere glances hadn't made possible. Juniper delighted in the possibility that Cory was doing similar.

Soon, though, Juniper was started out of his thoughts by the sound of someone speaking to the attendant at the curtain, asking after the nearest restroom. Though it sounded as though the patron did not plan on coming in--at least, not yet--the sound was enough to break the spell that had held Juniper's social anxieties at bay. With one last mournful smile in Cory's direction, Juniper stepped a more appropriate distance from the man and turned to face some of the other sketches on the wall. He sighed lightly, unable to stop himself from thinking that Cory's presence was far more enticing than any of these images. But, that was for another time. There was almost nothing they could do together safely in this place. Everything was a risk, even being seen together presented a risk, perhaps especially after tonight.

Not once Mr. Kade and I launch the new lounge, Juniper thought eagerly. He lamented that such a possibility was still likely months away. What would he and Cory do until then? Visit each other's homes? Would that attract attention?

Juniper wondered what it would be like, taking his clothes off for Cory. Would they go to Cory's studio? How many others had Cory drawn in such a way? Juniper lamented his own lack of experience. He had little to compare this experience with Cory to other than Juniper's last relationship, which had ended about as poorly as any ever had. And that was the thing, wasn't it? Even in New York, having started over, Juniper had so much further to fall, so much more to risk. For an artist to have an attraction to men? It was almost passable. But for someone like Juniper?

Then again, what did it matter, if Juniper was going to start funding and recouping funds from the lounge? Could he not simply be out and known for that? The thought frankly terrified him.

Juniper had thought he had been careful. He hadn't wanted to even tempt himself toward falling for anyone. He had told himself that whatever was going on with Cory before this outing was merely fantasy--the man likely wasn't interested. But now... there was something palpably real between them, and not even Juniper's anxiety could deny it.

"I'll admit," Juniper said quietly, not looking away from the artwork on the wall, "I look forward to sharing a wholly private moment with you." He gave Cory a side-long look and a half-smile that Juniper hoped was full of possibility.

Cory savored the long, indulgent moment that Juniper's eyes held his. He availed himself freely of the opportunity to take in the varied flecks of color in the man's irises, to fully appreciate his lashes, to enjoy every subtle little shift in his brow. He cherished the gentle warmth in his own chest, and resolved to simply enjoy the slow cascades of imaginations that continued to roll through his mind--his palm on Juniper's chest, his fingers tenderly tracing the lines of the man's face, Juniper's hand caressing back into Cory's hair. Gentle tingles danced down Cory's scalp and neck and back, adding tiny giddy waveres into his breath, his expression pure serenity.

Then, a startle pierced through them both as a voice spoke nearby. Cory instinctively took a step away from Juniper, not because he wanted to, but because he wanted them both to be safe. He eyed an artwork near the entrance, relying on his periphery to assure him that no one had entered to make anything of his and Juniper's proxmity. He let out a quiet breath, and looked gently back to Juniper.

Juniper was admiring art himself, looking a bit more serene than Cory felt, but that helped him relax, too. He smiled a little crookedly at himself, finding some absurdity in his own nerves now that they were dissipating. Hadn't he on some level decided that he would tolerate if someone did see them as they were? Well, that didn't mean his nerves had gotten the memo.

"I'll admit," Juniper said quietly, "I look forward to sharing a wholly private moment with you." Cory's gaze were transfixed on Juniper, his mind still comprehending the words when Juniper's eyes turned to once again meet his. He swallowed, feeling just a bit caught out, though a smile curled easily on his lips as his mind caught up with what Juniper had said.

"Yes," he said with a nod, a gentle excitement glittering in his eyes. He floundered for a moment then, searching for more words, something more to offer Juniper from the well of warmth and emotion in his chest. Finally he found, "Thank you," and then added, "for inviting me here today."

Eventually, when he was fair to certain that no one was immediately coming into the room, Juniper took the liberty to look at Cory squarely once more. Cory's eyes were on Juniper, and a smile curled onto Cory's face, coupled with a nod. Juniper would have sworn that Cory's eyebrows lifted with what Juniper thought was hope.

"Yes," Cory said, though it seemed like he wanted to say more. Eventually, he added, "thank you. For inviting me here today."

Somehow, that wasn't at all what Juniper thought Cory might say, and he was momentarily deflated, his spine caving in ever so slightly. But as he processed the artist's words and the warmth of his tone, Juniper took heart. Cory did genuinely sound grateful, and there was more than a slight chance that their paths would cross again. Perhaps, if they were to truly follow through, they would cross in Cory's art studio with many fewer clothes.

"Of course," Juniper said habitually with a wave of his hand, used to shrugging off his elaborate gestures for other guests, but he caught himself. Cory wasn't just any guest. Nodding to himself for a moment before bringing his eyes back to meet Cory's, Juniper said, "I couldn't bear the thought of not getting to watch you eat at least one. more. strawberry." Juniper said the last few words slowly, quietly, leaning over to whisper gently in Cory's ear. There was no doubt about it--he was flirting heavily now. There was no masking it, and he wasn't certain he could have if he tried.

"May we go in?" asked a woman outside the curtain.

"Yes, of course," the attendant responded, and Juniper took his time coming back to a neutral standing position, taking a slow step from Cory and turning from the artist to look deeper into the room. Though it was terribly difficult to focus on anything except the sun that blazed inside his gut, Juniper attempted to settle in as he looked at a half-nude woman holding a draped cloth when two more people walked through the curtain.

"Of course," Juniper answered Cory's thanks with a wave of his hand, his posture seeming suddenly a little withdrawn, and Cory grew sad, surprised by the strength of emotion that tightened his throat. But thankfully, Juniper regathered a sense of resoluteness quickly, before Cory could find it in himself to look away.

"I couldn't bear the thought of not getting to watch you eat at least one. more. strawberry."

Juniper leaned in as he spoke, the final words a tantalizing whisper in Cory's ear. Delighted tingling chills danced across his neck and scalp and back, and his chest felt warm and happy again, although something was still balled up painfully now in his throat.

"May we go in?" "Yes, of course."

An exchange just outside the curtain. Cory stood frozen this time as Juniper slowly straightened his posture, though he turned to look at artwork once he did. Cory followed suit, his body aiming itself at whatever picture it judged was best-positioned for him to be looking at. His eyes struggled to bring it into focus, though. His breathing was taking up too much of his attention, the pain in his throat almost unbearable. He wanted to cry. He wanted to wrap his arms around Juniper and sob about the very reason why he couldn't do exactly that. Such a recursive grief. Cory sighed, somehow finding his way to at least a sliver of relaxation in the exhale, making his peace with seeing the grief and feeling it and loving this moment anyway. Perhaps he would paint about it later. For now, there was a bounty of another artist's work before him, and finally, he was able to bring it into focus.

Once Cory could see again--it wasn't that he'd gone blind, exactly, but that his sight wasn't making it to his whole brain, maybe--he began to pace slowly, feeling the urge to move and to give himself the freedom to take in several works at once, get a feel for the threads that connected them or set them apart from one another. Hopper did seem to like a good buttock, which brought some joviality back into Cory's step. There was something freeing in that, at least. He might not feel safe crying into Juniper's chest here, but he did feel safe taking in another artist's rendering of the naked human body with not only Juniper present, but now two other strangers having joined them. Cory found himself motivated to move about the gallery to catch glimpses of the strangers in his periphery--not quite ready to perceive them directly, but to perceive their positioning, and what sorts of things they themselves might be paying attention to. He wouldn't mind getting a sense of where Juniper was at on that front, too, while he was at it.

While Juniper did appreciate the attention Hopper had clearly paid to the cloth, he was unable to fully settle into enjoying the artwork. Instead, his mind was racing, calculating how likely it was that the two people who had come in, one man and one woman judging by their appearance, would think that Juniper and Cory were here together. He thought he and Cory were standing far enough apart that perhaps it was believable that the two of them had entered separately, but... well, did it matter? Juniper didn't want it to matter, and he didn't recognize the people who had come in. He doubted they recognized him, although New York City was always smaller than it seemed. And, besides, what would they say? They were also here enjoying a nude art exhibit.

Juniper coaxed his shoulders into relaxing a little, now calculating when it would be appropriate to leave. He didn't want the couple to feel as though Juniper and Cory were leaving because others had arrived, but the gallery room was somewhat small. While there was plenty of room to maneuver, any more people would begin to become uncomfortable. And, then, of course, how much time did Cory want to spend in this room? Juniper suspected the artist hadn't been able to focus on the artwork much since they had entered the room--Juniper had been rather selfish with Cory's attention.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to remind himself that he did not need to--and could not fully--control everything. He would leave when he felt like leaving and trust that Cory would do the same. What else was there to do?

Still, Juniper could not shake the sensation of being observed, even though the people who had entered were not paying him or Cory any mind. As he transitioned to looking at another nude, muscular man, Juniper wondered how long was too long to peer at such a thing, and suddenly, he understood the outburst that had happened earlier. Trying to calculate how to best not make a show of one's own proclivities in such a setting was difficult on the nervous system, to be sure.

Unfortunately, the new couple had started to look at the artwork on the opposite side of the room, which Cory and Juniper had not yet explored, so there would be, inevitably, a moment where they would all need to bumble around each other. Politely. Somehow.

Juniper shook his head and laughed very quietly. The social math of such a situation was outrageous to the point that the only sane option was to give up on the calculations altogether. Or, rather, almost altogether. He still could not bring himself to so much as glance in Cory's direction.

Would their interactions in public be this way forever? Juniper wondered. Perhaps it was premature to consider such a future with Cory at all, but...

The lounge, Juniper thought, reassuring himself, that's why we need the lounge. Juniper made a mental note to double down on his support with Mr. Kade and gently suggest that they move up the timeline. Surely, between the two of them, they could make it happen.

After another few minutes of Juniper attempting to appear engaged in the drawings and paintings, he finally relented and allowed himself to step back outside, refraining from looking at Cory as he did so. He would happily wait for the artist just outside the curtained gallery room and perhaps have another glass of punch to cool himself down. He looked forward to going back outside in the fresher air and perhaps even having a cigarette.

As best Cory could tell, the couple who had entered were indeed content to pay their attention to the artwork more than to Cory or Juniper. Cory likewise gave them relative privacy, never quite bringing his gaze to take in their appearances, nor to peer directly at the art their attention currently admired. Instead, having settled his nervous system in his peripheral observation of their new companions in this space, Cory shifted his focus to Juniper--still peripherally--although unfortunately, that riled his nervous system a little again. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't quite make sense of the ways that Juniper moved through the space, and after a moment, he decided he would be better off bringing his own attention back in, back to the artwork and relenting the pursuit of observing the others around him. They would probably be just as happy to go unobserved, anyhow.

So, with a light sigh, Cory refocused on the art again, and began to pick out details he enjoyed of a few different pieces as he scanned the room. He narrowed down a particular enjoyment he was having of some of the ways that Hopper handled light and shadow, and he stepped closer to one such piece where a woman's shoulder blades held the shadow in delightfully stark contrast to the light. Her buttocks were quite well-accentuated, too. Briefly, Cory fantasized about conversing with the couple about what they liked, sharing what he found so alluring about Hopper's use of light, but melancholy rose again in his chest as he realized that that fantasy, already unlikely, would feel rather less safe if he were looking at a drawing of a man.

Cory let his attention move to other drawings nearby, perhaps searching out a nude male figure in a sort of defiance. He did find one, and enjoyed it briefly, but the lighting was, truly, less satisfying than the last drawing he'd offered his full attention to--and, the buttocks were a bit more obfuscated, he noticed.

He broadened his awareness then, and realized that Juniper was no longer in the room. He felt sad for a moment, followed shortly by a brief flare of alarm in his chest, though he wasn't sure exactly what about. Concern about Juniper's state, perhaps? He glanced only briefly toward the couple, unsure what he was looking for except that he didn't find it, which seemed to be a relief. Thus satisfied, Cory slipped quietly through the curtain out into the larger hall, letting out a deep exhale as he did. He felt a bit lost in the transition, his sight somewhat escaping his mind for a moment, but soon enough his focus alighted on Juniper not far away, and he smiled with open relief--if with a subtle wrinkle of worry in his brow.