Work of Art! (Ziall) (Tumblr)

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Summary--Niall really likes how colors stand out so beautifully against Zayn's dark skin. He likes how they both just relax when Niall paints the intricate markings all over the other, how intimate of a time it is. Zayn likes the way Niall's fingers move against his body, and how cold the paint is. He likes it enough to give him an erection.
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Niall wasn't an artist. He never had been. Not with things like pencils and pens and paper anyway. No, he'd always found his art in the way his calloused fingers plucked songs out of guitars - in the way his lips seemed to spill melodies without him meaning to.
Yes, music had always come naturally to Niall Horan. And art hadn't. Which was why he was confused when Zayn bought him a box of paints for his twentieth birthday.
"I know you'll use them," he'd said and just like anything Zayn ever said to Niall, he believed him - believed him in the way that the light of the soft lamp of their bedroom caught in his eyes and a soft smile played upon his lips.
And in the way that Zayn had given him his second birthday present, that was less of a present and more of a fuck.
-
It was when Niall was feeling particularly brazen that he suggested to Zayn that he would do "anything he wanted him to" in bed that night and watched with curious eyes as Zayn crawled off the bed, his arse on full display as he wriggled under the bed where they kept everything that they never used and pulled out a box of dusty paints, smiling triumphantly.
"Paint me," Zayn said and Niall smirked.
"So it was hardly a present for me then was it?" he asked.
Zayn chuckled and smiled sheepishly, shrugging as he clambered back onto the bed unceremoniously. "Will you though?" he asked, pulling off the lid of the box of paints and looking down at the neatly lined up acrylics.
"Zayn," Niall whined. "You know I suck at painting."
"No," Zayn said. "I don't mean like that. I mean...paint on me."
Niall quirked an eyebrow at that. But he'd told Zayn that he would do anything for him in bed. And his boyfriend was looking at him like he didn't want anything other than this in the world. Niall sighed, finally letting himself smile and taking the box of paints from Zayn's hands.
"Lie down," Niall commanded and Zayn instantly flipped onto his back, shuffling up the bed to rest against the pillows.
Niall climbed over Zayn, straddling him as he arranged his limbs for the best access. If he was going to paint Zayn's body...he was going to paint it all.
Niall first let his lips brush over Zayn's, a whimper coaxed from the elder's throat. "Close your eyes," he whispered and Zayn let out a groan, his eyelashes falling against his cheeks.
Niall smiled and picked up the paints. They truly were beautiful and it seemed that despite the fact that Zayn complained about rent almost every day, he had spared no expense when picking out the delicious array of colours that were lined up in the box. His hands hovered over the cerulean blue before moving on to a bright red, brushing past a lemon yellow.
The blonde man finally settled on the rich red at the left end of the box, lifting it out of the box and unscrewing the cap carefully. Instantly, the strong chemical scent of the acrylic filled the heady air of the bedroom and Niall looked down at Zayn to find the older man watching him.
"You were supposed to have your eyes closed," Niall tutted and Zayn rolled his eyes before closing them again, smiling slightly.
Niall squeezed a bit of the red paint onto his fingertip, letting out a shaky breath at the bright colour next to his pale skin. He could only imagine what it would look like, painted on the olive complexion of his boyfriend. He reached out a hand pausing with his fingers hovering above Zayn's skin.
"Might be cold," he whispered before dipping his fingers and smoothing a thick line of paint alone Zayn's breastbone. Zayn shivered under the touch, a visible ripple travelling through his body and Niall's eyes darkened at the way the bright paint scarred Zayn's flesh, a beautiful shimmering line of crimson that dipped over the bones of the older boy's sternum.
"More," Zayn mumbled and Niall nodded, wiping the remaining red paint from his fingers onto his discarded shirt and picking up the deep blue, immediately tracing it onto Zayn's collar bones. He licked his lips at the dips and shadows on Zayn's chest that became more pronounced, the dark paint outlining his bones and shaping over them with a meticulous level of care.
Zayn's eyes flickered open to meet Niall's, dark with lust.
"How - " Niall cleared his throat. "How does it feel?"
"'S cold," Zayn replied slowly, his tongue heavy with desire as his eyes closed gently again, blowing a thin stream of air from his parted lips as he felt his length begin to harden.
Niall grinned at the feeling of Zayn's erection pressing into his hip, taking out a new colour of paint, this one a desert orange that he dotted around Zayn's nipples, rubbing is gently over the nubs as they hardened until the cool sensation of the wet paint. Zayn let out a breathy whimper and Niall leant up Zayn's body to connect their lips in a wet kiss that was warmer than the paint that was slowly drying on the darker boy's body.
The bright paint stood out dramatically on Zayn's golden skin and Niall shuddered. Niall had always though that Zayn's complexion was beautiful, the seemingly endless expanse of soft, darker skin. Next to the bright colours that painted him though, he was more stunning than ever and Niall was momentarily dizzied by how beautiful the man he could call his own was.
"Zayn," he whispered, fingers dipped in yellow paint licking against his cheekbones, along his brow, down his nose. He chased the yellow with a sea green that traced the column of his neck and smoothed across his shoulders, mixing with purple on his arms and fingers. "You - you're beautiful."
Zayn's eyes opened, startled and took in the way that Niall was gazing upon him in reverence, his blue eyes shining with something that Zayn couldn't decipher.
"Love you Ni," he said carefully and watched carefully as Niall's eyes flicked to his face, nothing but adoration plastered on his face.
Niall lowered himself over Zayn, being careful to hover above him without smudging any of the carefully applied colours that splashed across his skin, carefully avoiding the permanent tattoos that Niall loved so much and was almost afraid to touch.
"Zayn - " he whispered, breaking off as Zayn surged upwards, his hands clawing at Niall's back to bring him closer to him. Niall struggled to keep his body from touching Zayn's, but to no avail. Zayn was intent on pressing every inch of his body as close to Niall as he possibly could and before long, Niall found is own torso streaked with colours that were blurring together in a messy smudge.
His fingers lifted into Zayn's hair that was falling out of it's perfect styling and he carded them through the dark locks, streaks of paint left on his fingers colouring the strands lightly. He knew Zayn would give him grief for it later, probably make him join the older man in the shower to help him make sure all the colours were washed out of his precious hair. But that was something that Niall could live with, given the way the thick paint made his hair stick up even more, spiking away from his head stiffly.
"Fuck me Niall," Zayn moaned as Niall's fingers scratched against his scalp and Niall let out a soft groan, scuttling backwards on the bed to reach wildly for the lube he knew he'd removed from the drawer in the bathroom earlier. His legs moved haphazardly across the bed and he accidentally kicked the box of paints to the floor with a loud clatter that made Zayn start where he was lying on the sheets, spread out like a work of art.
"Shit, sorry," Niall said hastily and Zayn shook his head, reaching for Niall and pulling him close, paint swiping onto his own pale chest as Zayn writhed beneath him, squirming on the bed as their erections rubbed together with a delicious friction that neither could get enough of.
Niall was desperate and for the first time that evening, his fingers were slick with something other than bright paint as his fingers pushed urgently against Zayn's entrance. "I need...I need...fuck - " Niall whimpered incoherently as his fingers slipped inside Zayn and scissored gently to prepare him.
"Please, Niall," Zayn whispered, his fingernails digging into Niall's back, little half moon prints marking Niall with his own form of art that would likely still be there in the morning. Small nail marks that would scratch against Niall's shirt and remind him that he belonged to Zayn, that Zayn would be waiting at home for him, loving him, marking him.
"Okay," Niall murmured into Zayn's skin, breathing in the heady scent of Zayn's sweat mixing with the green paint on his neck, his heated skin making the paint run a little, rivulets shining down his neck like maps. "Okay I can do that."
Niall hooked his hands under Zayn's knees and lifted them carefully to place them over his shoulders. The bright blue painted over his calves slipped on Niall's shoulders and Niall shuddered at the feeling. He could understand why Zayn liked the feeling of paint on his body so much - it was surreal - the cool, sliding colours lubricating his skin and making it slide against Zayn's with an ease they'd never before experienced.
"Fuck, Ni...please."
The blonde nodded, not trusting himself to speak through the gasping breaths that were leaving his lips, lining his cock up with Zayn's entrance and slowly pushing inside his tight hole. A velvety heat instantly encased him and Niall whimpered at the feeling, his eyes fluttering closed as Zayn's hands latched onto his shoulders, squeezing hard at the feeling of being completely filled with Niall.
The smaller man opened his eyes, gazing down upon his boyfriend, whose heaving chest was smeared with bright colours that ran together and shone with the sweat that was beading on Zayn's sternum. "God Zayn," Niall groaned. "You're so fucking lovely."
Zayn blushed, his grip on Niall's shoulders lessening slightly as Niall pulled out of him and drove back in with an alarming tenderness for such a deliberate action. Zayn barked out a strangled moan, his back arching off the bed, the soft light of the bedroom setting off the colours on his chest in a fierce display. Niall choked on a gasp, moving inside Zayn with more purpose.
He wanted to make Zayn's toes curl, his back bend up to let the paint catch the light again. He wanted to see the vivid colours flashing on Zayn's skin as his length hit Zayn's prostate on each thrust. Zayn was writhing beneath him, their skin sliding together shamelessly as he bucked his hips towards Niall in a desperate attempt to drive him deeper, make the feeling stronger.
"N-Niall, I - " Zayn stuttered, and Niall watched as a telltale ecstasy flashed in Zayn's eyes, a cry escaping his lips as a blinding pleasure shot up his spine, spreading out to his fingertips and burning right within his core. Hot liquid painted his chest in messy white streaks, crisscrossing over the ruined paint that Niall had spent so long on.
And it was that that had Niall coming with a guttural moan, his hips stuttering convulsively as a familiar heat build in his lower abdomen and travelled down his legs, leaving him shaking as he pulled out of his boyfriend and flopped onto the mattress beside him.
"Fuck me," he breathed and Zayn chuckled.
"I believe you just did."
Niall turned to Zayn and grinned, running a finger along his painted chest and licking it clean of cum and a small amount of red paint. He could taste the slightly chemical acrylic on his tongue as well as the familiar bitter tang that he was used to and he smacked his lips together loudly, causing Zayn to laugh loudly and sit up in bed, reaching for a tissue to clean himself up as best he could.
"Think I'll need a shower," he said softly, still looking and Niall.
"Hmm," Niall hummed.
"Hopefully I'll be able to get all the paint off. I wouldn't want to miss any of it."
Niall looked up at Zayn with a raised eyebrow. He was smirking at Niall and not even trying to hide the suggestive glint in his eyes. Niall rolled his eyes, sitting up in bed.
"Well my darling work of art, I might just have to join you."

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