smokingmirror | Fanfic: Room For Improvement (1/1)

Title: Room For Improvement
Author: Avarice
Rating: G
Pairing: Tybalt/Gio (Skids)
Spoilers: post-BMB
Summary: It's nothing a splash of paint won't fix.
Word Count: 371
Date First Posted: 06-04-2004
Date Revised: 22-05-2011
Beta: -
Awards: -
Notes: While I think I'll always love Mik/Tybalt best, and the fan responses to potential Tybalt/Skids made me nutty, I didn't mind the idea of Tybalt and Gio ending up together. By the end of the comic, Gio had changed a lot, and definitely matured. Tybalt had realised he wasn't as infallible as he liked to think. They fit together much better than earlier on in the series, and while I'm not confident they could've kept the relationship alive, they would've had a good time while it lasted.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ

Tybalt stared at the apartment critically. "The space is alright, for what we're paying, anyway. New York property prices are disgustingly inflated... but there are many things that need to be fixed up." He scuffed his shoe against the floor. "Hardwood needs resurfacing. Those drapes are tacky and need to come down. As for the paintwork," the redhead mocked scornfully, "whitewash only works in the Greek Isles."

Gio wrapped an arm around the artist's waist and kissed the side of his frowning face. "Well... the floors are too expensive to get redone now, so we can buy rugs from that guy on tv who's always going out of business to cover it in the meantime.

"My skills as a seamstress extend to freshman Home Economics, but I'm sure I can fix the curtains. That'll do at least until we can afford some new ones. As for the walls..." Gio nudged Tybalt meaningfully. "It's nothing a few buckets of paint wouldn't fix."

Tybalt turned slowly, the spark of inspiration igniting in his eyes. He looked hungry. Gio cocked an eyebrow, giving him an encouraging smile.

**

Five days later, paint-spattered and exhausted, Tybalt and Gio looked at the room they had created. It would have been impossible for any third party to accurately judge who had painted what, it all seemed to merge in a swirling narrative of colour and form.

There was happiness touched with despair, longing with hope, and darkness with beauty. It was spread across all walls, branching up to the cornices and over onto the ceiling. The only reason that one surface wasn't covered, too, was the lack of scaffolding to reach it.

Tybalt wiped a smear of paint from his cheek with the cuff of his now ruined shirt. He surveyed the room almost in a daze, the groggy after-effects of creative passion. Gio's hair had dark blue paint sticking strands together. Glancing over, Tybalt saw the offending paint and attempted to wipe it out, only succeeding in smearing it further. Neither seemed to care.

"The floor's not so noticeable now," Gio commented with a wry smile.

"One thing's for certain," Tybalt replied with a mischievous grin, "we are definitely not getting our security deposit back."

~finis