Body painting

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When there's paint, but there's no canvas

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Louis has been searching the house for a while. Harry sometimes slips into these moods where he just wants a bit of quiet time and space alone. Louis never takes it to offence, even though he doesn't really understand why his husband is like that at times, but he never questions it or pesters him. He'd been killing time catching up on last week's football scores while Harry mentioned something about going upstairs to listen to some music and write in his journal.

But Louis was getting rather hungry and he was craving Harry's healthy cooking, which is actually really rare of him. So there Louis is, knocking softly on the wooden door when he hears the faint hum of music coming from the record player. Fleetwood Mac, one of Harry's all-time favourites. There's a small 'come in' before Louis is opening the door and gently shutting it behind him.

"Hey." Harry smiles warmly at his husband, gesturing it's ok for him to come closer. Louis takes the invitation with pleasure, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist under his jumper and rubbing his hands along the bare back. It's warm and soft, and Louis snuggles his face into it. Harry chuckles, the sounds rumbling in his chest as Louis faintly smiles, lifting his head to litter his boy with kisses.

"What've you been doing?" He asks, raises a brow at the open journal and the paints on the side of the desk. "Mm, not much... was just doing some painting." Louis nods, he knows better than to ask what's in the journal, so he doesn't. "That's nice." Louis is growing soft at the smell of Harry's cologne and the strawberry shampoo he used in his bath earlier. He's suddenly taken out of his dreamy haze when Harry drawls out; "was thinking we could do some painting together Lou, haven't done that in a while."

"Sure." Louis smiles, pulling away as he pokes Harry's dimple, causing a cheesy smile from his boy. "Haven't got any canvases though." Harry sighs, frowning slightly. Louis chuckles lifting his shirt off and throwing himself onto their bed. "Anything's a canvas, Love." Harry is rolling his eyes at Louis. "Well come on?"

With a small smile, Harry is waddling over with his paint palette . Placing it down on the mattress beside Louis' chest, Harry gets himself situated above Louis, straddling him as he rests above his bum. "What are you painting?" Louis hums out, straining his neck to look at Harry behind him. "Mm not sure." Harry mumbles, eyes flickering between the colours on the paint palette and his 'canvas'.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead swiftly picking up the paint brush and dipping it in a light pink colour then begging to spread it along Louis' back, who tenses at the feeling. "That's cold!" He states rather obviously, earning a giggle from Harry as he begins mixing some golden yellows and oranges. Louis smiles when he turns his neck slightly to capture Harry's face, eyes brighter than the stars and his tongue poking out the left side of his lips in concentration.

Louis slips his eyes shut and hums along to the same song that was playing when he first entered, the record having looped with only a few songs on it. He's loosing track of time, his breathing soft and slow as not to move too much; he wouldn't want to mess up Harry's painting after all. And he's suddenly woken from where he was dozing when Harry pats his upper thigh. "I'm done." Harry beams, licking his finger and then rubbing at a dark paint smear. Louis is about to stand up and see it for himself when Harry stops him.

"Hold still I want a photo!" Harry leaps up to the side table, grabbing his phone and taking a few pictures then shoving the phone in Louis' face. "Where did all this talent come from hmm?" It's a painting of a sunset over a body of water. Louis had a slight idea it would be that, Harry is very predictable. Harry shyly shakes his head, dismisses Louis with a smile. Louis' having none of it, throwing his husband more compliments and then giving him a big kiss on the forehead.

Louis cleans himself off in the bathroom, running a warm rag over Harry's art, apologising profusely even though Harry was ok with it. "Your turn." Louis hums, gently pushing Harry down onto the mattress, cooing as the curly-haired lets out a soft sigh.

He starts with red, messing around a little as he draws a thick stripe just under Harry's shoulder blades, going from left to right. He stalls over the orange and the green for a moment, before he's dipping it into the orange and smearing another stripe just under the red one. He didn't really intend on creating a rainbow, but now that he so coincidentally started, he may as well finish.

He's just finishing off with the purple when he notices Harry's body has gone slack and his breathing is slow and heavy, eyelashes just skimming his cheekbones as he lets out a small snuffling noise, one he'd do whilst dreaming. It kills Louis. With a fuzzy feeling in his heart, Louis decides its enough. He slowly climbs off the sleeping body beneath him, picking up the paint palette and setting it on the desk along with the paint brushes used.

He enters the bathroom in search for the rag Harry had used on him previously. He rinses it in warm water, wringing it out then makes his way back to his snoozing husband. He doesn't clean up his messy masterpiece immediately, instead taking a few minutes to admire the resting body. Louis sighs softly and a smile pinches the corners of his lips. A quick photo using Harry's phone, and he's gently rubbing off the paint, pausing and hesitating every time Harry makes a small noise or moves even an inch; Louis can't bare the thought of waking him. Not when he's so peaceful.

He rises to gently shut the window then busies himself with the task of trying to slip the duvet cover out from underneath Harry. With success, just narrowly avoiding waking him, Louis crawls into bed beside his husband, resting on his side as he burrows into the crook of Harry's neck. He adjusts the duvet over the top of them, a little kiss settles him down as he allows his eyelids to close.

Maybe they should body paint more often. Who knows what it'll lead to next time.





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I've had this sitting around for a while and I decided I'd finish it considering I haven't posted in a while!

How's everyone doing? (:

Larry Stylinson Oneshots Where stories live. Discover now