When James walked into the bedroom with the jar of peanut butter, Sherrinford couldn’t help but let his jaw drop. It was something that he never could’ve guessed from James. It was one thing to be unpredictable but it’s a whole different thing to be absolutely crazy. He was lying on a bed, naked, hot and ready, and James had excused himself out of the bedroom. He never could’ve thought that that thing was even allowed in his apartment.
“What is that?” Sherrinford asked, jaw still dropped on the ground, totally surprised about what’s happening.
“It’s peanut butter,” James answered, the “duh” hanging heavily between them.
“I know that,” Sherrinford responded, his jaw now closed a little bit, but still wide open. “I meant what is it doing here?”
“I think we both know that,” James spoke with an aristocrat-like English accent that had always brought Sherrinford to the verge of frustration. “Now come on, sit up.”
Sherrinford did as he was ordered and James walked a few steps closer to the bed, still holding that God-awful jar of peanut butter. James squinted his eyes at the sight before him and used his right hand to rub at his scruff like he was thinking about something. Just a lucky guess.
Then, he started to shape Sherrinford up like a sculptor would do to a statue. He propped Sherrinford’s left leg up and tilted his head towards the direction of the closet, which held James’ painting easel and his painting kit. He then walked to the corner next to it, picked up said easel and painting kit and put it up in front of the closet.
Now, Sherrinford was surprised again. Was James preparing to paint him? James was an artist, so one time, Sherrinford said that he would like to be painted nude. To be honest, he was drunk then so the words might not be intentional. But James, not a mind reader like his friend Charles is, couldn’t have known. He really thought that Sherrinford meant it when he said that he wanted to be painted nude. And now, he would grant Sherrinford’s wish.
By the time James went to his easel, he was satisfied of the sight he put together. Sherrinford now had his left leg propped up, his elbow resting on his left knee, hand rested on his forehead. “Try to look… sultry,” James said as he sat down on the chair in front of the easel.
Sherrinford silently rolled his eyes but did what he was ordered. James was smiling widely after Sherrinford did that. “Now, try to stay still for a couple of minutes,” James said.
James’ face looked very hot when he was focused on something, Sherrinford now noticed. There was just something about that face that just made himself wanting him. But that’d be inappropriate for the situation, so he tried to suppress his increased want and desire.
James then opened the jar of peanut butter and pulled out the spoon he brought with him into the bedroom. He was on the verge of shocked again. How could one man surprise another in just a matter of minutes? Apparently, James could. It’s been three times now. He then dipped the spoon into the jar and lifted it up, then landing it gently on the surface of the Earl. He then began to draw Sherrinford in all his glory, his smile evident on his face the whole time.
Turns out it wasn’t just a couple of minutes. It was a full half hour that was exhausting for both of them, James for continuous arm moving and Sherrinford for sitting still, which was equally exhausting, he’ll have you know. “Come take a look,” James said, breaking the sound silence that they had earlier.
Sherrinford went over to take a look at the painting and the sight was jaw-dropping. It was him, in his birthday suit, drawn beautifully by peanut butter, which was surprisingly beautiful on him. Then, all he could do was kiss James deeply, making them forget all of their troubles and just enjoy this night.