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Published:
2020-11-04
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2,353
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1/1
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9
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The Art Competition

Summary:

There's an art competition at the station. Who will take out first place?

Work Text:

The Art Competition
by Jemisard

Jim Ellison watched the group gathered around the board. It seemed like a pointless thing to do, but he wandered over, not in the least surprised to see his flat mate there, in the midst, frantically scribbling names down in columns. Jim pushed through the crowds, and towered over Blair Sandburg.

Sandburg smiled up at Jim. "Hey man, how's it going?"

"Sandburg, what are you doing?"

"Taking down names for a competition. Wanna join?"

"No." Jim shifted on his feet. "No I do not."

"Go on Jim," Megan pleaded. "All you have to do is one art piece of someone here. Any sort of piece at all."

Rafe smiled at Brown. "I'm going to do some photographs of Brown. You know, a natural, on the street thing."

"And I'm doing a sculpture of Rafe. Clay." Brown finished. "W're going to take out the doubles." They slapped hands and grinned at everyone else.

Megan punched Jim's arm. "The idea is that you do one of someone, and then they do you. I'm gonna get photographed in period dress."

Jim turned to Blair. "And you are doing this because?"

Blair raised an eyebrow. "I'm not. I'm not entering it."

"Why?" Jim turned to Megan again. "I thought you two would enter together."

"Nah," she laughed, "I'd rather go with Simon. Sandy's got no idea of art, he'd have me go native, in the full war paint."

"Thanks, Meg." Blair rolled his eyes. "I'd love to enter, but I don't have anyone to go in with. There's odd numbers."

Megan grinned wickedly. "No, there's not."

"There is," Blair protested. "There's no one left."

"There's one person left."

Everyone fell silent and turned to look at Jim. Jim raised his arms. "No. I refuse to enter."

Megan sidled up to him. "You would only have to be the focus of the artist, namely Sandy. You wouldn't have to enter the doubles."

"I'm Blair, Megan, besides, I can't do art of any sort."

"Rubbish. I saw you do that lovely stain glass piece and the sketch of the jaguar at the zoo."

Blair went bright red and shoved the paper at Rafe, heading for the door before Jim could say a word. "Gotta go, work to do."

Jim ran after Blair and grabbed his arm, dragging him into the rest rooms. "What pieces, Chief?"

"It's nothing. They're nothing."

Jim noticed Blair's hand reach over his pocket containing his wallet, so he deftly pulled out Blair's wallet and flipped it open. A piece of paper behind the photo of him and Blair camping grabbed his eye. He pulled it out and unfolded it while Blair tried to grab it back. When he realised he couldn't, he turned and left quickly.

Jim was confused by the reaction, and looked at the picture, wondering what it held that made Blair so scared of him seeing it.

The picture was a sketch. Jim was crouched with bow and arrow, dressed in traditional native clothing. A panther stalked alongside him. The whole thing was slightly unfinished, and made it all the better. Jim felt a sting in his eye, probably dirt, causing a slight moistness to run down his cheek.

*****

"Sign me up." Jim stared at Rafe. "Put me and Sandburg in as partners for the competition."

Rafe's eyes went wide. "You sure Jim?"

"Yes. I want to enter with the chief."

"One entry or double?"

Jim smiled. "I can't draw, you know that." He leant in close to Rafe. "But, I want to arrange something."

*****

"Chief! You here?" The question was pointless and so was Blair's silence, but he stayed lying under the bath, hiding from his own embarrassment. He couldn't believe Megan had dobbed him in to Jim. He had drawn Jim a couple of times, always in secret, and when Megan had found out, caught him drawing in the jaguar at the zoo, he had sworn her to secrecy.

So much for that oath.

Jim's feet appeared near Blair's head. "Come out chief."

"No."

"Okay, I can wait."

*****

Ten minutes later Blair still hadn't moved. Jim sighed and shifted slightly, getting mildly annoyed. Fine, Blair was embarrassed, and he wanted to be by himself. Fine.

A concern for his friend motivated Jim into action. "Blair, come out from under the bath."

Blair shook his head, curls flicking into sight briefly. "No."

"Well, at least tell me what's wrong."

"I'm humiliated Jim. I didn't want you to know, never, I didn't even want Megan to know. I'm angry at Megan for not keeping her promise. I'm a little scared that you're mad that I've been drawing you without your knowledge and permission. Okay?"

"So not okay Chief. You should have known better." Jim rumbled. He pulled Blair out from under the bath gruffly. Blair stumbled to his feet, slightly shocked and, well, scared, by Jim's sudden action. Scared that he had betrayed his trust again. "Don't do it!" He nearly yelled.

Jim paused. "Don't do what?" he mumbled. "I was just going to do this." He grabbed his Guide close and hugged him roughly. Blair noticed that Jim was trembling softly, obviously fully aware of what Blair had meant, despite his protests. "Don't ever think I'll let you go, I'm never going to let you go again, I made that mistake once. I'm not mad, I was just surprised. I love it, I wish you had asked me to pose for you to do it."

Blair pulled back from Jim and smiled. "Really? Then you'd let me draw you for the competition?"

Jim smiled back, and Blair suddenly took in the war paint and head band and bare chest, wondering how he had actually managed to miss it. Must have been the emotion of the situation. "I already signed you up to draw me."

Blair threw his arms around Jim. "Thank you, thank you so much. You won"t regret this." He pulled back and grimaced at the paint on his shirt. "I hope that you won't anyway."

Jim tried to calm his energetic guide. "I'm sure I won't."

*****

Blair was amazed by the muse that had seized him. It was almost a hand apart from his own that drew the images across the paper, deftly moving to make soft lines and curves of a hunter€ ¦¹s body.

Jim was happy to see Blair happy, finally working on his art in the open. He had slowly started to show Jim the other pieces he had done. Wolves and jaguars and jungles filled his pictures, greens, browns, blues and yellows, vibrant pencil marking out the forms of the animals.

One picture Jim claimed as his own. He sat crouched on a cliff, leaning over the thin form of his guide. both were covered with runes and symbols where there was no cloth, which was an awful lot of them. In the sky, the image of a wolf nuzzling a jaguar appeared, ghost like and intangible.

Jim loved it. He had spent hours coaxing Blair into showing him the piece, but now that he had, it sat in a frame on his bedside table. Jim found himself staring at the figures, and the gentle affection shown between the two animals, the tender way that the wolf gazed at the big cat, love and adoration shining from its blue eyes.

*****

Two weeks passed passed, and the competition pieces were entered. No one could see them until the final night, a formal function to declare the winners. Tickets were being sold to the public, a fund raising venture for a children's charity. It did nothing to alleviate everyone's nerves.

When the night arrived, Jim found himself hiding in the back corner with Blair and Megan. A few of the pieces had been displayed, but they found that some, the winners, and the ones not up to a high enough standard, were not there. These included Blair's picture of Jim, Megan's oil pastel drawing of Simon as Arthur and Daryl as Lancelot, Simon's period photograph of Megan,the sculpture of Rafe and the photo of Brown.

Jim pulled Blair's bow tie straight again and adjusted Megan's pearls. Blair tugged Jim's sleeve straight. Megan giggled nervously.

Blair rocked on his heels. "I'm sort of, umm, well,"

"Nervous?" Jim finished for Blair. "We noticed."

"Would everyone please attend the stage. Finalist pieces are about to be shown ascending order."

"Oh God, I feel sick." Blair mumbled. "I'm going."

Jim grabbed hold of him and hauled him forward. "No you don't chief. I want to watch, and not have to worry about you."

Blair grabbed another drink and stood near the back with Jim, Megan and Simon.

The first piece came out. "Off the Beat, Henri Brown, honourable mention," the voice intoned. Brown's statue was pleasant to look at, Rafe resting back against a tree, book on his lap open. Brown accepted his certificate with a flushing grin, delighted to have made it that far.

Next was Rafe's photo of Brown, announced with a dull, "Tonal Dropout of Society, by Brian Rafe. Runner up." He looked good in the setting, his dark skin darker against the light background. Rafe was happy to come higher than Brown and spent the rest of the night rubbing it in.

Simon was next. "The Colonial Girl, by Simon Banks. Fourth placing." Jim could hear Blair's breathing getting more laboured with each passing moment. The photo of Megan was exquisite, in her dress and parasol. Simon blushed when he took the trophy and blushed harder when Daryl wolf whistled him.

Megan's drawing was third, and the voice was starting to sound more animated. "Arthur, Lancelot and Excalibur, by Megan Connor. Third Place." Megan dragged Daryl up with her, looking quite different from the tortured Lancelot she had drawn. Simon was beaming when they took the plaque, and Megan pulled out the prop sword from behind her back, presenting it to Daryl as his reward for posing.

Second place was announced. Blair went quite white and took a deep drink when he realised that he had won second, and wasn't one of the stored pieces. Jim followed his sentiments of a stiff drink when he saw the piece for the first time. "The Jungle Sentry, by Blair Sandburg. Second place."

Jim stood proud, strong, the true defender. Spear clutched in one hand, he leant against a tree in the jungle. Paint covered his chest and face, a pair of loose hide pants showing off the strong legs without being too revealing. Jim looked calm, peaceful yet alert.

Blair refused to get on stage until Megan and Simon pushed him up. Jim had never seen the young man so red as when he received the plaque, dark blue eyes avoiding the crowd.

Finally, they announced the number one piece. "First place, Bacchus, by James Ellison."

The curtain dropped. Everyone gasped, except Blair, who started choking on his drink and thumping his chest to try and breathe again.

It was Blair, there was no mistaking the soft face, full lips and chestnut gold curls that framed the face painted in oils on the canvas. Ivy entwined his hair, brushing near one shut eye. He was asleep, propped against pillows, in a soft golden light, his chest only partly covered by a velvet blanket and satin tunic. A gold goblet stood nearby, red wine visible, the ivy twisting around it and up Blair's arm. The picture showed an inner strength, but a deep gentle quality as well, much like the choking young man, who at the moment showed little of either quality.

Amid an avalanche of cheers and whistles, Jim took his award. He hurried off stage to find Megan and Daryl trying to help Blair, whilst actually doing more damage than good. Megan was attempting the Heimlich whilst Daryl tried to get Blair's head between his knees. Blair himself kept trying to disengage himself from both them, insisting that he didn't need any more help and go and inflict this pain on someone else.

In the end, Jim chased them off and gave Blair a hug, partly to apologise, mainly for the sake of it. "How are you?"

"Hoe do you think I am? I'm sore from my alleged help, I can't breathe yet and I'm still trembling slightly."

"It's all right. You're just in shock."

"When did......?"

"Did I do it? Three nights before the competition closed. You were asleep on the couch." Jim tucked a stray curl behind Blair's ear. "I'd been waiting for ages to get the pose."

"Why didn't you ask?" Blair started. "I'd have said yes."

"I wanted to surprise you. It's yours once the show ends."

Blair stared at Jim. "Did you like your piece? The one I did for you?"

"I love it." Jim whispered, his mouth near that shell like ear. He felt the urge to run his tongue around the inside of it.

"I'm glad." Blair whispered back. "I'm really glad. We can hang them up next to each other." He resisted the desire to twist his face to Jim's, so close to his own, and kiss him, drink in his essence like he dreamed of so often.

"And the team winners, undisputed, with first and second place, are Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg."

Jim pulled Blair onto his feet. "C'mon Bacchus, we got one more to collect."

Blair smiled and hung on to Jim's hand as they went up on stage.



The end

My first story for Sentinel and I haven't seen very many because of the mongrel TV station, keeps taking it off air and all that.