Archive of Our Own ^beta

Harry walked into Picasso’s Art Studio with quick, determined steps. Pablo Picasso did not reside at the airy studio, but the owner happened to be named Joe Picasso, which made his chosen career as an art studio owner that much easier.

His boots slapped on the studio’s hardwood floor, an iced green tea sweating in his right hand. He was fifteen minutes early for class and had little to do besides take off his clothes, but he preferred to have time to unwind before dropping trou in front of a crowd of artists.

There was a small stage in the centre of the room with a variety of seating choices provided on the stage. A high back chair, a lumpy sofa, a pair of wooden stools, a stack of clean sheets for models to drape over the furniture for each session. Harry hoped today would be a day on the vintage red velvet chaise. He’d been on his feet for a grueling opening shift at Sunflower’s Cafe (his second job), plus he had a night of nannying (his third job) and classwork ahead of him. A naked afternoon on a chaise sounded like just the ticket.

He went to an empty chair behind the stage, dropped his rucksack, and placed his green tea on the ground. Models were provided with a screen for privacy while undressing, along with a selection of colourful silk robes. He pulled the beautifully painted screen around his seating area and started to undress. His tee only got caught on his head once, he didn’t fall over when taking off his skinny jeans, and his necklaces took less than two minutes to untangle. It was a good day.

The sound of people entering the studio shuffled in the background. Harry could see body shapes moving around behind the screen, could hear easels and bags scraping along the floor. The thick, crisp sound of sketchbook pages being turned cut through the air.

“Harry?”

Harry shrugged on one of the provided silk robes, light pink in colour, and held it shut around his middle. He popped his head around the screen with a smile.

“Hey, mate.” He shook hands with Zayn, an assistant manager at Picasso’s and his friend from uni. “Alright?”

“Yeah, all is well. You?” Zayn squeezed his hand, concern darkening his eyes. “Everything okay with Froyo?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, thanks. On antibiotics and on the mend.” Harry scratched the back of his neck, pink silk sliding up the fronts of his thighs. “She’s much better, thankfully.” His words sped up as he tied the silk belt. “I’m so sorry I had to sub out last class on such short notice. I didn’t realize we’d be at the vet so long. I promise to give more notice next time, though hopefully there won’t need to be a next time.”

Zayn’s brows pinched as he smiled warmly.

“No worries, man, no worries. You had a legit emergency and called me an hour before the class was scheduled, which is, like, a record for someone needing a sub. Usually we get a call five minutes after the class started.”

“Right, I just—I like to be punctual, you know? I love working here and I’d never want to make your life more difficult, or Fran at the desk. She always seems so busy with the schedule.”

Zayn chuckled, “You’re good,” and squeezed Harry’s shoulders. “Things happen. Kitties get sick. Cars break down. It’s alright. Besides, you’re our most popular model. We’re never letting you go. You’re all good, mate.” He patted between Harry’s shoulder blades and started walking them closer to the stage. “The class missed you, but we managed with the sub. He usually works at our paint nights, but he subs sometimes when Liam is out. I’m just glad my girl, Froyo, is alright.”

“Good. Yeah, thanks. That’s really nice you’re so flexible.”

Zayn walked with his arm around Harry’s shoulders, leading him to the stage.

“You’ve never missed a class in two years of modeling. If we had trophies, you’d have gotten one for perfect attendance a year ago. You’re good.”

As Harry neared the stage, he noticed some of the artists turning pages in their sketchbooks. He recognized some sketches that resembled himself (one can only be a nude model for so long before becoming intimately aware of how strange your genitalia looks to an outside eye), but the sketches turned to someone a bit shorter and stockier.

His eyes lingered on a sketch of the model standing with his back to the class, half bent over the velvet chaise with one knee planted on the cushion and his head angled over his shoulder. Even from the quick sketches, Harry could see that he had shaggy-ish hair and sharp cheekbones, but was round and soft around the arse and thighs.

Harry opened his mouth to query who the substitute model was, but Zayn clapped his hands above his head.

“Alright, everyone, we’ll start in just a minute,” Zayn announced. He smiled at Harry and nodded at the stage. “After you, mate. We’re going to start with some quick standing poses, then do a pretty easy position for the majority of the class where you’ll be on your back on the chaise. Sound good?”

Harry smiled and nodded along with Zayn’s instructions. He got up on the stage and recognized his yellow marking tape on the hardwood floor. His initials and each class date were printed neatly in Sharpie on each bit of tape, the studio’s way of making sure he could arrange the furniture or his limbs in the same position if a pose needed revisiting.

The floor was mostly covered in yellow tape (HS 06-03-15, HS 02-02-15, HS 15-12-14 [that was a rather chilly session]). There was a new smattering of neon blue tape pieces labeled with the initials LT and some recent dates, including the class he subbed out one week previous.

‘LT,’ he thought.

Lance Tomato? Lucifer Trouble? Leo Turtle?

“You ready, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes snapped up from the floor towards Zayn’s question.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, standing in the centre of the stage. He dropped his robe, ignoring the happy gasps from a few repeat students in the front row as the silk pooled around his feet. He put his hands on his hips and smiled at Zayn. “Ready when you are.”

The next opening shift at Sunflower’s came mere hours after Harry returned home from nannying. The three year old twins, a boy and a girl, he watched most evenings were adorable and hilarious, but he barely had time to complete his coursework when he was chasing them around their luxury penthouse.

“Hey, man, are you free tonight?”

Harry looked through the baked goods case with a croissant in each hand.

“Tonight? Um...” He nibbled his bottom lip, squinting at Niall. “Yeah. I don’t have to watch the twins. I’m done after class.”

“Nice!”

“But I’ve got a ton of work to do. I can’t go out.”

“Oh, I see,” Niall said, nodding and rubbing his chin.

Harry smiled crookedly. “Yes, Niall? Do you have something to say?”

Niall pressed his palms together and batted his big, blue eyes.

“Well...Do you think you could possibly, potentially, magically cover for me?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to close, but my mate from home popped into town and I’d really, really like to see him, but I’m supposed to close, you know? So, it’ll be a little tough to—”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Harry said. He wiped his brow with his forearm, smiling sleepily. “I like closing because I can set everything up the way I like it for the morning.”

Niall’s ecstatic grin faded a couple of degrees.

“Oh, am I not doing it the way you like?”

“No, no, you’re fine. It’s fine. I’m just...You know…” Harry shrugged and handed Niall a croissant. “Coffee nerd and all.”

Niall accepted the croissant, but frowned.

“You’re sure it’s not too much? You work so much, H. You never have time for fun.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I can read between customers.”

“Yeah, for sure! You’ll have tons of study time. It’s totally slow at night and I totally owe you one, mate.” Niall reached across the counter to grip Harry’s dimpled cheeks, his lips smushing on Harry’s nose. “You’re the best!”

Niall was either a liar or had a strange definition of, ‘totally slow at night,’ because Harry had not stopped running from behind the counter to tables of customers since he took over at five that evening. He managed to complete most of his coursework while eating lunch between classes, but still had reading to complete for the next day. He checked his watch and blew his hair off his face, returning behind the counter.

The tables of customers seemed sated for the time being, so he pulled out his textbook and hid it under the register. He pulled his hair into a high bun and had just opened his text to his bookmark when the bell above the cafe door tinkled.

Harry’s bones ached and his brain had a momentary spasm when thinking about how much reading he was not accomplishing at work, but he put on his biggest smile and stood up straight at the register.

“Good evening and welcome to Sunflower’s! What can I...” Harry’s eyes widened as he smiled, his knees knocking and his arms wilting at his sides like overdone pot noodles. “Um, what can I make you, sir?”

The customer stood in front of the counter with his thumbs looped in the pockets of his black skinnies, his hair an artful swoop of shiny brown locks. Harry watched his hip sway to the left, his arse popping with the motion.

“Does Mr. Sunflower require all employees to be as clearly over-caffeinated as you are?” the man asked, his voice raspy and high. “Because, if so,” he said as his smile grew, “I’ll have to leave a glowing comment card. It’s charming.”

Harry tried to say something snappy in reply to the twinkly-eyed devil hypnotizing him from three feet away, but he instead babbled, “We actually don’t have any comment cards, but I could craft one for you, if you’d like.”

Straight, white teeth and tiny wrinkles beside blue eyes were revealed by the man’s growing smile.

“Aren’t you such a devoted employee? Bless. Much different than Niall, God love him.”

“Thanks, but you, uh…” Harry ran his hand through his hair but forgot he had it in a bun, resulting in his fingers pulling a few strands half out. His face tilted up and the man chuckled, Harry smoothing his palm over the fluffy bumps with a bashful smile. “Um...You know Niall?”

“Of course! He’s my go-to tea guy most nights.”

“Oh, right. Okay. Yes. Niall works nights.”

“Yes, he does.” The man held his hand out. His smile went crooked, though his eyes continued to sparkle. “I’m Louis. Night owl.”

Harry gripped his hand.

“I’m Harry. Opening shift, but not by choice.”

Louis’ hand tightened around Harry’s.

“Lovely to meet you, Harry.”

They stared at each other for a long beat, their arms swaying over the counter. Harry smiled so wide a laugh escaped, Louis ducking his face down to chuckle.

“Um, you want tea, yeah?” Harry said, stepping back. Their fingers brushed over each other’s palms as their hands dropped, prompting another round of breathy laughs and hip shifts. Harry held his arm towards the row of tea tins. “What can I get you?”

“I’m fine, Niall, I swear,” Harry said, speed walking down the street. He cradled his phone between his ear and shoulder. “I got lots of sleep last night, I promise.” That was a fib, as he couldn’t fall asleep when he got home from work. Blue eyes and a sweet laugh and the deep regret of not having the balls to ask for a phone number bounced around his head until he passed out well after midnight. “The extra shift was no big thing.” Harry pushed open the door to Picasso’s. “We can go out this weekend.”

“What are you doing now?” Niall asked.

“I’m going into Picasso’s.”

“For what? I thought you were off?”

“I got a last minute text to sub.”

“Oh, nice! I hope you waxed.”

“I don’t wax,” Harry laughed, immediately swallowing his voice. His laughter echoed through the empty studio. Harry’s cheeks heated. “I don’t wax,” he whispered into the phone, walking towards the changing screen beside the stage. “Anyway, I should go. I have to get undressed.”

“Ooh la la. Draw me like one of your French girls, Haz.”

“Har har,” Harry said, switching his phone to his other shoulder. He unlooped his rucksack. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Niall sang, “Byeee!” before the line went dead.

Harry placed his phone in the front pocket of his bag and zipped it up, walking crookedly to the dressing area behind the stage. He pushed the painted screen aside and revealed the most glorious, round arse he had ever seen.

“Woah, woah!” Louis laughed.

Harry dropped his bag to the floor as he jumped backwards. Louis scrambled to cover himself with a baby blue silk robe.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry! Sorry, so sorry,” Harry blurted out, backing away. He fell over the velvet chaise, which was propped beside the stage, his feet flipping in the air. “Sorry! Oh God,” he whispered from under the furniture, hiding his face with his hands. “I’m the worst.”

Louis swayed his head down to peek under the chaise. The silk robe tied around his waist barely held on as a loin cloth.

“Hey, mate, good to see you,” he giggled, holding his arms out. “C’mere. Up and at ‘em. Nothing to worry about.”

Harry tried his best not to sink his fingertips into Louis’ skin (unbelievably soft) and muscles (wiry but somehow shaped like a fine sculpture) or to stare at his bare chest (tiny nipples that deserved their own art gallery with body hair that was a perfect mix of downy and rough). It was nearly impossible when he was being hauled to his feet by Louis in his silk loincloth, but he tried his hardest not to cop a feel.

“What are you doing here?” Louis asked, brushing Harry’s shoulders off.

“I got a text from Fran to sub. I’m so sorry. I thought I was the only one here.”

“Ohhh, so did I. No worries.” Louis thumbed towards the empty reception desk. “I think she just stepped out for a coffee break. Maybe she was distracted and didn’t realize both of us were coming in?”

Harry nibbled his bottom lip.

“Maybe.”

Louis pointed from himself to Harry.

“Do you want this shift? Do you need it for pay cheque purposes? I’m fine with skipping it.” Louis’ eyes darted from Harry’s boots to his soft curls. He smirked. “Maybe I’d even sit in and draw.”

Harry’s face burned with heat, but he smiled, running his hand through his hair.

“No, it’s fine. No worries. I don’t need to take it from you. You can have it. I have coursework to do, anyway.”

“It’s totally okay for me to give it up. I’ll be back here tonight anyway for Paint Night.”

“Oh, you’re…” Harry’s eyes lit. “You’re that person? You do the wine and paint parties?”

“Yep, that’s me. Chatterbox with minimal painting abilities and a high tolerance for cheap boxed wine and bum pinches from little old ladies.”

Harry laughed as Zayn jogged up to them. Zayn held his arms out, smiling wide.

“Hey, guys! What’s the occasion for both of you? Are you friends or something?”

“Erm, yeah,” Harry said. He glanced at Louis. “Or something.”

“I think there was a Fran related mixup,” Louis said, adjusting his loin cloth. “We both got texts to sub for Liam, so”—he held his arms out and the silk slunk down to reveal his dark pubic hair—“here we are.”

“Oh! Huh. Let’s see.” Zayn stroked his chin, his eyes moving side to side. “We can work with this. Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “Definitely. Might be amazing, actually.”

“Sorry, work with what?” Harry asked.

“Both of you,” Zayn said with a bright smile. He held his palms towards them. “If you’re both comfortable with that, of course. It’s so weird nude modeling, I doubt it’ll be awkward. You’re both so good at it.”

Harry looked to Louis.

“What do you think?”

“I’m game if you are,” Louis said, already smiling. “It’ll be fun.”

Zayn snorted. “Shocker. You can barely keep your clothes on on a good day.”

“Hey, man, I’m a free spirit,” Louis protested, laughing as he spoke. He pinched the belt of his silk robe between his fingers and looked to Harry, curious innocence softening his eyes. “What about you, coffee bean? You up for it?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” Harry said, nodding. He cleared his throat, Louis’ smile growing more amused by the second. “Sure. Lemme just get ready.”

Ten minutes later, Harry and Louis stood beside the stage, Louis in a blue robe and Harry in a butter yellow robe. The class was mostly at their easels, whispering to each other while smiling at the duo of models.

“Maybe I should have waxed after all,” Harry murmured to himself.

“Relax, mate. Just pretend me and my enormous penis aren’t here when we’re sprawled on top of each other.”

Harry laughed breathily, his cheeks heating. He felt Louis nudge their shoulders together and smiled wider.

“Try not to get smothered by my huge balls,” Harry whispered, Louis cackling and nudging him again. “Though, spoiler: They’re actually just normal sized balls.”

“I’m sure your balls are as darling as you are. Wanna ditch the robes before we go up? That way we’re not spooked by each other’s junk.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah.” Harry swallowed while trying to remember the last time he saw anyone’s dick besides his own. Cobwebs swirled in his brain. “Okay. Sure.”

“Count of three, yeah?” Louis arched his brows and Harry nodded.

Both slowly counted aloud, “One, two, three.”

Their robes fluttered to the floor. They stood frozen in the same position, their arms straight at their sides and their legs shoulder-width apart.

“Cool, so, now we’re naked,” Harry said, his voice sounding only a touch strangled. He looked at the ceiling. “Awesome.”

“You can look,” Louis said, his voice gentler and more quiet than usual. “I won’t bite. Promise.”

Harry pulled his gaze lower and landed on Louis’ middle. The adorableness of Louis’ bare chest continued lower down his soft, but flat, stomach. Harry bit the inside of both of his lips, his mouth aching to press into the bit of pudge surrounding Louis’ navel.

Louis’ penis was the largest Harry had ever seen in person, maybe even the largest he’d seen in porn. Louis’ cock managed to exude the same warmth and charm that poured so easily from his every move. Seeing Louis naked was only a touch more exhilarating than their hour of fully-clothed banter in the cafe. The thought of bantering while nude made Harry clear his mind and think terrible thoughts. He was going to be naked and within touching distance of Louis. He needed to remain professional (and soft).

Louis said, “You’ve got a big dick, which I figured would be the case with those feet of yours, but I’m more impressed that you have the most attractive inner thigh hair I’ve ever seen. It’s like a mosaic.”

Harry laughed so hard he bent over, his abs jiggling, one hand gripping the stage with his other hand holding his stomach. His green eyes twinkled up at Louis from his bent position.

“Your penis is super pink,” Harry said on a laugh. Louis cackled, his dick bouncing in Harry’s peripheral vision. “Really nice, though.” Harry stood up straight, wiping tears from under his eyes. “Seriously. Top notch.”

“It’s like we’re on Naked and Afraid.”

“Minus the snakes and bugs, thankfully.” Harry shivered involuntarily, his cock slapping his thigh. “That part is always the worst to imagine.”

“I bet you’d be the type to bring something completely useless, like a scrunchie or slippers.”

“Excuse me,” Harry said on a laugh, touching the centre of his chest. “I’ll have you know that I would bring a pot to boil water that also has a removable handle, which we could use to cut things. I’ve put a lot of thought into this!”

Louis’ brows shot up as he grinned.

“Woah oh! We’ve got an expert over here!”

Harry shied away from Louis’ prods to his ribs and giggled, “Okay, expert, what would you bring? A fire starter?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Louis said with wide eyes. “Why people neglect to bring that never makes sense to me. Then we could boil water in your pot using my fire.”

“Very true,” Harry said, chuckling softly.

Much like the television show, both forgot that they were naked within seconds of losing their robes. The same crackling chemistry present in the cafe was present in Picasso’s. They smiled at each other then looked away. Louis bit his bottom lip and snuck a glance at Harry’s profile, itching the back of his hair.

“I, um, downloaded a bunch of episodes the other night. Like, if you, um…”

Harry watched Louis’ small feet turn inwards, his right toes stepping on his left toes. He frowned, confused, and looked at him.

“If I, what?”

“Like, if you wanted to maybe,” Louis’ reddened face glanced up at Harry, “like, uh—”

Zayn clapped from the front of the class. “Alright, everyone, we have a real treat today! Let’s get ready to begin.” The room's chatter died down, murmurs of excitement taking its place. Zayn gestured for Harry and Louis to get on stage. “Two of our talented models will be joining us for class. Please welcome Harry and Louis.”

Louis offered Harry a quick smile and nodded his head towards the stage. They walked up the steps to a round of boisterous applause.

“Wow,” Zayn laughed, hopping up onto the stage. “Who knew two blokes would do it for you all?” The class laughed as they continued to applaud, Harry and Louis grinning at their audience. “Alright, let’s see.” He pursed his lips and squinted at Harry and Louis, stroking his fingers over his chin. “Let’s do a few quick standing poses to warm up, then we’ll move to seated. You two good with that?”

“Sounds good,” Harry and Louis said.

Normally, Harry and Louis would run through ten to fifteen quick poses without much direction from Zayn, but since there were two of them, Zayn jumped in to help direct their joined poses. Zayn started them off face to face, bent forward with their hands on each other’s shoulders. The pose was very gladiator-ish, as if they were pushing each other in the middle of the ring.

“Lou, let’s have you bend your front leg just a bit more,” Zayn said, Louis bending his leg and causing his arse to sway slightly towards the artists. There was a quiet whistle from the audience and Harry snickered, Louis huffing quiet laughs against the side of his hair. “There we go. Alright. One minute.”

Harry and Louis remained perfectly still as the artists sketched. The minute flew by. Zayn clapped his hands.

“Right, let’s have Harry turn away and Louis, if you would, please rest your forehead between his shoulder blades and roll your back a bit. Hands where you feel natural.”

They got into position easily. Louis murmured, “This okay?” as he slid his hands to Harry’s ribs.

Harry nodded and whispered back, “Yeah, thanks.”

“Harry, chin up, and just lift your left foot and point your toes into the—Yes, exactly,” Zayn said, nodding, Harry’s leg bent with the ball of his foot pressing on the floor. “Perfect. One minute.”

That minute flew by, as did the next minute where they held the same position, only Harry was the one leaning his face between Louis’ shoulder blades.

“Let’s do a face to face embrace,” Zayn said, Harry and Louis already getting into position. “Let’s have Louis curl up against Harry’s chest just a bit—Yes.” Louis’s face nestled in the crook of Harry’s neck. “Thank you, Louis. Very natural.”

“Sure thing,” Louis said, his arms looping around the small of Harry’s back. “This good?”

Zayn nodded. “Yes, lovely. And Harry, if you could please—” He hummed as Harry cradled Louis to his front with both arms. “Yes, exactly, thanks. Soft hands. Very nice.”

Louis exhaled against his skin.

Harry tilted his head and whispered, “Alright, mate?”

“Perfect,” Louis murmured. “Cozy. I mean, warm,” he said, a touch faster. “Comfortable.”

Harry grinned, then returned his expression to a neutral stare.

That cuddly minute flew by, as did the next one where Louis held Harry to his chest.

“Alright, let’s do one with Harry on the floor,” Zayn said, gesturing at Harry. Harry lowered himself to his knees. “Sit beside Louis’s feet and, if you wouldn’t mind, just sort of drape against his leg. Yes,” Zayn drawled slowly, nodding. Harry leaned his cheek against Louis’ outer thigh, his legs bent but fanned flat around his body. “Hand on his hip, would you?”

“Sure,” Harry said. He wrapped his arm around the back of Louis’ thighs to hold his hip. “Like this?”

“Yes, Lovely, just lovely. Louis, could you put your left hand in Harry’s hair and your right arm up, right hand in your hair?”

“No problem,” Louis said.

“Bend sideways towards Harry, would you? Other elbow high. Stretch a bit, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Louis assumed the desired position. There was an audible buzz through the group of artists. Harry peeked up from his position and started to smile. The stretch of Louis’ raised arm accentuated the gentle curve of his side and the small bulge of his bicep, his underarm deepened. His front was completely on display, the lengthening of his stomach muscles providing an abdominal arrow to his swaying cock.

“I see you, Gladys,” Louis said, winking at a tiny old lady in the second row. “Don’t pretend we didn’t have a moment last class.”

The entire room laughed loudly, including Harry, who stared, stunned, up at Louis.

“You talk to them during sessions?” he whispered with as little mouth movement as he could manage.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought it would distract them if our face moves?”

“Nah, it’s alright to talk a bit when it’s a free draw. Not as serious,” Zayn said as he rounded the easels. “It would be unnatural if Louis was quiet the whole time.” Harry smiled, watching Louis’ stomach bounce as he laughed in position. “Let’s finish this pose, then switch and have Lou on the floor, then go to seated. Sounds good?”

They finished the warm up poses and took a quick break to get water and stretch.

“You alright?” Harry asked quietly.

Louis nodded as he swallowed, his lips smiling around the rim of his bottle. He wiped the back of his hand over his lips.

“I’m good. You?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, great. It’s…It’s fun to not be alone up there.”

Louis chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Zayn came over to them, smiling with his hands clasped in front of himself. “We might have to make this a regular occurrence. The class is very pleased.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. “A regular class?”

“Yeah. Maybe make a weekly class for the two of you. We’ll have to go through the schedule and find a time.”

Louis smiled at Harry, his eyes sparkling with the same enthusiasm that brightened Harry’s voice.

“I’ll be sending Fran some lovely flowers if I can get paid to look at you naked every week.”

Harry laughed and ran his hand over his burning face, Louis bumping their bums together.

“I’ll, um, bring us tea to class,” Harry said quietly, the right side of his lips quirked higher than the left. Louis’ mouth flopped open, his eyes shimmering as two perfect, blue circles. “I remember how you like yours. We can make a tradition of it.”

“O-Oh. I—Yes. Okay.” Louis nodded. “That’s...lovely of you.”

Harry clasped his hands behind his back, his hip dents deepening and his stomach popped out. To Louis’ credit, his eyes never dropped from Harry’s flushed face, their bodies leaning closer.

“Were you going to ask me something before?” Harry asked.

“What?”

“Like,” Harry brushed his toes over the ground, “you seemed like you were going to ask me something. When we were talking about Naked and Afraid?”

“Oh!” Louis’ smile grew knowingly. He bit his bottom lip, ruffling the back of his hair. “Um, I—”

“You two ready?” Zayn asked, standing at the stage stairs. “I was thinking we could do some stool poses before we hit chaise for two long poses. Might be cool to have you two in the air.”

“Y-Yeah,” Louis said, looking away from Harry. He started to walk and smirked over his shoulder. “That’s cool with me.”

Harry walked up the steps behind him.

“Me, too.”

They really should have asked Zayn to clarify what stool poses he was thinking of. Back and forth semi-flirting while naked was difficult enough to participate in without popping a boner. Thankfully, the chilliness of the studio and the eyes of an audience kept their cocks fairly limp up until that point.

When Zayn positioned Harry on the stool and had Louis sit in his lap, facing him and with his legs wrapped around him, air conditioning and voyeuristic elderly people could only do so much. The sweet smell of Louis’ sweat, close enough for Harry to lick his sharp collarbone, was borderline impossible to endure. Lucky for them, Louis’ easy chatter kept the mood light, even with their cocks nestled together between their bodies.

Louis whispered, “Is it weird for me announce to the class that our cocks are snuggling like puppies right now?”

Harry’s face tipped forward to laugh into Louis’ neck, which only caused Louis to bounce and their cocks to rub together.

“Why would you say our cocks are puppies?”

“They’re just sort of sitting there,” Louis said, his abs flexing for a beat. “Look at how cute they are. They’re friends.”

They stared down at their laps. Their cocks sat side by side, bracketed by the dark hair dusting both of their groins. The tip of Harry’s cock rested in the vee of Louis’ thigh and groin, his darker foreskin contrasting with the honey gold colour of Louis’ inner thigh. Louis’ cock sat on top of Harry’s and curved slightly left, his head resting against the soft hair of Harry’s upper groin.

“I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now,” Harry said, stifling a laugh. “And I cannot believe--” His voice shook and broke into giggles. “I cannot believe our cocks actually look...cute together. They’re so weird looking on their own.”

Louis giggled, “Maybe they just needed a pal,” and Harry laughed, both of them wobbling in their pose. Louis held onto the backs of Harry’s shoulders, steadying himself.

He could feel Harry sweating beneath his fingers, could smell salty sharpness blooming on the soft skin of Harry’s neck, and could see the skin below Harry’s navel starting to darken. Louis swallowed and glanced at the easels he could see from his spot on stage, willing his brain to cool down.

“Emmett, you totally have a thing for his back, don’t you?” he asked an artist in the front row. “I can see it in your sketch. It’s alright, mate, I get it. It’s a lovely back. Nice shading in your piece, as well.”

The artist merely chuckled and continued to sketch. Louis ran his fingers between Harry’s shoulder blades, Harry’s hips shifting ever so slightly with a quick breath.

“Ah, sorry,” Louis whispered against his cheekbone. “Sensitive?”

“Y-Yes.”

Louis hummed and flattened his palm, soothing over the spot he stroked. He felt Harry exhale smoothly, Harry’s obliques flexing. Louis resumed his study of sketches.

“I see you drawing my feet, Marcella.” He wiggled his toes at a white-haired woman who was well in her eighties. “You’ve totally got a fetish, don’t you? Don’t you? Admit it, you cheeky vixen.”

Harry laughed along with the class, his laughter releasing some of the tension built up in his arms from holding Louis to his body.

Zayn, mercifully, only had them do two quick stool positions before moving them to the chaise. Their first chaise position was easy enough.

“Lou, on the floor, please.”

“Sure.”

Louis got on his knees and went to sit between Harry’s spread legs. Harry handed Louis a round green pillow with a fresh black sheet.

“Here,” Harry said, smirking. “For your bum.”

Louis grinned. He slid the pillow under his arse and fluffed the sheet over it.

“Cheers, mate.”

“Right, so, Lou,” Zayn said with his hand out in front of himself, “let’s have you between Harry’s legs. Lean your head on his left knee. Yeah, just like that. Harry, let’s have you lay back, sort of slouched, but with your hand still holding Louis’ head.” He nodded, watching them get into position. “Are you both good like this for a long pose?”

“Yes,” they said together.

Harry ruffled the front of his hair and arched his back as he got comfortable.

“How do you want my legs?” Louis asked with his palms in the air. “And should I hold his leg or no?”

“Yeah, let’s have you do that. Hold his leg. And...” Zayn squinted at them, tilting his head. “Lou, can you bend your knees, feet flat on the ground, but have your right foot further forward than the left?”

Louis followed his instructions and peered curiously at Zayn.

“Like this?”

“Perfect. Harry, hand in his hair, would you?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

Harry ran his fingers through Louis’ shiny, piecey hair until his palm found a home on the back of his head. He scratched his scalp once. Louis hummed low in his throat, his hands clenching ever so slightly on Harry’s ankle.

“You like that?” Harry whispered. He repeated the gentle scratch and smiled wider, another long hum buzzing against his knee cap. “Guess so.”

Louis shut his eyes, nuzzling his cheekbone to Harry’s knee.

“M’gonna fall asleep like this.”

“At least you’d be quiet, for once.”

“Hey,” Louis warned on a laugh. He skittered his fingers under Harry’s left foot and Harry yelped high in his throat, his leg bouncing up. Louis snickered, “You better watch your P's and Q’s, coffee bean. I’m within scratching distance of many of your sensitive bits.”

“I’m trying to be professional here!”

“You two about ready?” Zayn asked, smirking at the base of the stage. Harry and Louis nodded. “Cool. Twenty minutes starts,” Zayn held up his watch, “now.”

Harry and Louis held completely still. As Harry’s fingers lazily whirled in the back of his hair, out of view for the artists, Louis’ eyes grew too heavy to keep open. He inhaled deeply as his neck went limp, his head resting snugly against Harry’s knee. Harry continued massaging his scalp.

“Your hair is so soft,” Harry whispered.

Louis smiled with his eyes shut. Harry scratched the base of his hairline and Louis purred aloud. He squeezed Harry’s ankle.

“This is my favourite pose ever. Even better than our puppy penis pose.”

Harry smoothed his fingers behind Louis’ ear.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me, too.”

Twenty minutes flew by. Once the pose was done, they had a stretch and bathroom break while the artists reset their supplies.

Louis returned from the toilet and made a beeline for the side of the stage. He picked up a roll of neon pink painter’s tape. He smiled with his lips shut and held it in front of himself, walking back to Harry.

“What do you think?” He quirked his hip. Harry’s eyes rose six inches from Louis’ cock to the tape in his hand, his cheek dimpling as he smiled. “Should we save our position for later?”

Harry nodded.

“Definitely. I was just going to say we should mark the stage.”

Louis ripped a big piece off for him and they set to marking their position, everything from the chaise’s legs to where Louis’ feet were placed on the floor. Harry grabbed a black Sharpie and got to his knees, sitting back on his flip flops.

HS+LT

He smiled at the initials and tapped them with the marker’s cap. Louis’ bare feet came to stand in front of the tape.

“Aw, lovely,” Louis said. “I was going to do that, too. Hold still. I promise your bum isn’t in the photo.”

Harry looked up at him in time to see Louis snapping a cell phone photo of their initials. He smiled, his smiling face and bare shoulders in the top corner of the photo, which focused on the bright pink tape.

“You’ll have to text that to me,” Harry said.

Louis popped up from his rucksack. “Oh! Yeah, um, so...” He scratched the back of his neck as he walked closer. The stretch of his arm caused his cock to sway and reveal his heavy balls. “Should we exchange--”

Zayn asked, “Ready for the next position?”

Louis and Harry looked to him, tension stiffening their posture.

“Sorry,” Zayn chuckled after a beat, holding his palms out. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, Zayn, no constant interruptions at all,” Louis said in an extra cheery voice, his smile manic. Harry covered his mouth with his fingers, his eyes crinkled at the ground. Louis clapped once and smiled wider. “We’re here to work. Shall we get into the next position?”

Zayn positioned Louis on his back on the chaise. He placed Harry on top of Louis with his back to Louis’ front. Harry scooted a few inches lower on Louis’ body to allow the back of his head to rest against the front of Louis’ shoulder. If Louis tilted his face down, he could brush his lips over Harry’s ear.

“This is so Titanic,” Louis whispered, Harry grinning and rubbing his shoulders against his chest. “I kind of love it.”

“Me, too,” Harry whispered back.

“Harry, if you could please put your arms up around Louis, thanks. One leg down, please.” Zayn gestured at Harry’s right leg. Harry bent his leg and rested the bottom of his foot against the floor. “Arch a bit, please, just—There we are. Such a good model you are.”

Harry draped his arms above his head and let his hands slide behind Louis’ neck to tangle in his hair. He stretched his straight leg to the end of the sofa, Louis’ palm resting on the side of his thigh. Louis lifted his hand, then replaced it, then lifted it again. Harry tilted his head back.

“Everything okay?”

Louis smiled with his lips shut, his eyes on the ceiling.

“Yeah, I...I’m just going to apologise in advance.”

“Why?”

“I, uh...” Louis laughed, licking his lips. He gulped and met Harry’s curious stare, his cheeks rosy. “Fuck, this is awkward, but I am most definitely going to get hard like this and I’m really, really sorry.” Harry’s eyes widened, Louis’ hand clenching on his outer thigh. “I’ll try to get it under control, I promise. It’s never happened to me in class before, but, yeah. We can absolutely stop if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I too heavy on you? Is that it? We can change positions or we can swap or--”

“No, no, you’re not heavy. You’re fucking stunning,” Louis laughed, his stomach bumping under Harry’s weight. “Even your armpits are stunning. I’m losing my mind.”

“What!?” Harry said, laughing breathily.

“I’m already sweating like crazy,” Louis continued to babble as he laughed. His eyes clenched shut and he shook his head. “I’ve already lost my mind, I think.” He nodded. “Yep. It’s gone. This is like the most bizarre, magical experience of my life and I’m sorry. I apologise.”

“It’s alright, honestly.”

“No, it’s not. It’s unprofessional of me. I’ll try to control myself. I’ll think of bugs and guts and stuff.”

“But I, um,” Harry’s voice dropped, “I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Louis’ eyes popped open.

“What?”

“And hold,” Zayn said from the floor. Louis looked at him with nearly hysterical eyes as he lounged on the chaise. Zayn smirked. “Chin up, Lou. Relax your neck.”

“Sure, Zayn,” Louis said, his overly cheerful, tight voice returning. “Got it, Zayn. Thanks so much, Zayn.”

Harry focused on holding his position. He tried to ignore the sweaty warmth of Louis’ body beneath him. He tried to ignore the gentle rub of Louis’ toes against his calf muscle. He tried to ignore the silly jokes and comments Louis whispered in his ear.

He failed.

Instead of ignoring him, each little touch or comment only made Harry laugh louder or snuggle back against Louis, as if they were hanging out at home and watching bad television.

“Do you think they’re adding tattoos? Piercings, maybe?” Louis whispered. Harry shook his head every so slightly, quick breaths huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched to remain neutral. Louis stroked the side of his hip hidden from the class. Quieter, he murmured, “I hope Emmett is expertly shading all four of your nipple rings and connecting them with festive holiday garland.”

An uncontrollable, high pitched laugh ripped out of Harry, his head tilting back against Louis’ shoulder. Louis giggled with faster, more staccato bumps of his belly. Zayn and the rest of the class smiled and paused at their easels, exchanging amused looks.

“I think our models are having a little bit more fun than usual,” Zayn said, prompting the class to laugh louder.

Harry giggled, then forced his features into a more serious, artistic expression. He breathed calmly for a moment, syncing his breaths with the swell and fall of Louis’ chest beneath him.

“This is not how I thought my afternoon would go,” Harry said quiet enough so only Louis could hear him, “but I’m glad this happened. It’s been so fun.” Softer, he added, “You’re so fun.”

Louis hummed, dragging the pads of his fingers up and down Harry’s ribs. The motion was small and likely not visible to the artists, but it made Harry smile and arch against him.

“Agreed,” Louis said. He cleared his throat, his big toe curling over his other toes. “Figured I’d never see you again after we spent over an hour bantering at the cafe and all you said when I left was, ‘Be careful, I just mopped the floor near the door.’”

“Takes two to tango. Not like you asked for my number or something,” Harry murmured pointedly. “And I was only looking out for you so you didn’t slip, after you already knocked over my holiday display.”

Louis snorted. “Ask for your number? I thought you were taken?”

Harry’s brows furrowed and his eyes darted backwards, but his body remained in position.

“Taken? By who? My cat, Froyo?”

“No, no, with—” Louis’ fingers twitched. “Wait, your cat’s name is Froyo?”

“Yeah.”

“Froyo?”

“Technically, it’s Francesca Yolanda Styles. Froyo for short.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

Zayn’s voice cut in to say, “If you’re going to respond, could you kindly hold still?” The class laughed and Harry’s entire body heated, Louis chuckling and puffing warm breaths against his ear. “We’re nearly done and you two have been wiggling nonstop.”

They both took calming breaths and relaxed in their joined position.

“Why did you think I was involved with someone?” Harry whispered.

“Niall said you don’t usually work nights because you’re always spending time with the twins.”

“I nanny for twins. They’re three years old.”

Louis’ cock absolutely throbbed against the small of Harry’s back.

“Oh God, I’m an idiot,” he groaned, his eyes rolling backwards. He felt Harry shift his hips and groaned softer, his knees popping up involuntarily. He took a deep breath and straightened his legs. “I should have asked for your number, I’m sorry. I’ve been kicking myself for not asking you out. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“You thought I was dating twins? People date twins?”

“I don’t know,” Louis laughed, his body starting to shake in his held position. “You’re gorgeous and sweet and I could totally see you getting shared by a pair of hot twins, though I shouldn’t think of that right now given our current position.”

Harry cleared his mind of the image of Louis and a twin brother grinding on either side of him.

“You and me both,” Harry said, shivering. “So, you—” His fingers curled in the back of Louis’ hair, his head tilting back. He smiled softly. “You want to go out sometime?”

Louis laughed, his eyes glimmering.

“Go out sometime? I want to run from this building and adopt a cat and name him Spencer Twinkle. I’ll call him Sprinkles and he can be best friends with Froyo and we can spend forever together, naked with our bloody cats. That’s how much I want to go out sometime.”

“Oh, nice,” Harry said, relaxing on his back and rubbing his bum to Louis’ groin. “Froyo loves new friends and I have lots of toys for Sprinkles to play with. Kittens are so fun.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Talking about my fictional kitten and grinding that bum against me. Jesus Christ.” Louis poised his wiggling fingers above Harry’s stretched sides, Harry’s eyes widening as Louis’ legs wrapped around his ankles. “We done here, Zayn?”

“What are you doing!?” Harry cried, already giggling. “We’re—” His arms lowered, but he dutifully put them back up around Louis’ head. “We’re in position! We’re at work! Be professional!”

“You’ve got to lighten up, babe. Feel the art.” Louis snapped and pointed at Zayn. “Time?”

Zayn grinned at the squirming pair. He looked at his watch, his eyes darting back to Harry and Louis.

“We...are...done.”

Harry immediately squealed and rolled off the chaise, Louis hugging him from behind as he dug into his ribs. The class erupted in laughter and applause. Neither Harry or Louis seemed to care that they were naked and flopping around as they wrestled in front of the class.

They landed with Harry flat on top of Louis, Louis gasping bursts of fast giggles as Harry prodded his stomach.

“We are definitely making this a regular class,” Louis said through his giggles, pressing his thighs to Harry’s hips. “Even if it’s just you and me doing nude paintings of each other.”

Harry cradled Louis’ face in his hands, smiling and smoothing his hair off his forehead.

“I’ll have to ask Fran to sign me up.”

“Kiss me already, won’t you? Hurry up and do it before Zayn butts in and tells us to switch poses.”

They both grinned and leaned in. Harry gently sucked on Louis’ bottom lip, Louis’ fingertips stroking between his shoulder blades. Harry’s breath stuttered against his mouth and Louis hugged him tighter with his legs, both smiling into the innocent kiss. Harry felt Louis’ cock twitch against his own and groaned softly, his eyes hazy to smile down at him.

“God, you’re dreamy,” he breathed.

Louis giggled and rolled Harry onto his back.

“Class is done today, but I have a feeling that you two are far from done,” Zayn said quietly to himself, smirking. He looked at the crowd of artists continuing to sketch, even as Harry and Louis exchanged soft kisses and tender touches on stage. He ran to the stage and pulled the curtain across the kissing duo, laughing, “Class is dismissed!”

“Bye, Franny,” Louis called, waving out the door. “Text me when you get home.”

Fran waggled her long red nails at him and smiled over her retro plastic glasses.

“Will do, love.”

He watched Fran get into her car, then locked the door. The paint party had gone smashingly, as usual, and he was nearly done cleaning up. He grabbed the last two buckets of used paint brushes and went to the sink.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket. Strange. Fran couldn’t be home that quickly. Balancing the buckets of brushes against his chest, he took out his phone.

knock knock, dreamboat

Louis smiled confusedly and reread Harry’s text. He rested the brushes on the sink countertop.

“Knock knock?” he whispered. He thumbed a text in reply.

who’s there lovely?

There was a quiet knock on the glass door of Picasso’s. Louis spun around.

“What are you doing here?” he laughed, jogging to the door. He unlocked it and stepped back, Harry grinning and ducking his head down as he stepped inside. “This is a nice surprise.” Louis snagged the front of Harry’s shirt. Their lips brushed with such a natural ease that both smiled, Harry curling his fingers around Louis’ hips. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Harry drawled, rolling up on the balls of his feet, “I was going to bring you a tea from Sunflower’s.”

“A fine idea.”

Harry unzipped his rucksack.

“But, then I thought,” he pulled out a fresh bottle of tequila, “we could maybe try out that whole naked painting thing.”

“Did you?” Louis said, his voice higher.

Harry pursed his lips and nodded, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“We both had a long day with lots of excitement. We deserve a nightcap. I even brought limes.”

Louis pulled Harry’s hair tie out and ran his fingers through his waves, Harry grinning down at him.

“So, you, the most professional person to ever work at Picasso’s, decided to surprise me at work with the idea of getting liquored up, naked, and covered in paint?”

Harry thought for a moment, then smiled, calm and natural as if they were discussing current events.

“Yeah.” He arched his brows. “That good with you?”

Louis smirked and turned the lock, his eyes sparkling.

“Let’s go defile the chaise.”