warning: hints of maturity, but not really, cause I can’t bring myself to actually write that but oh well, hopefully this works
Normally, Niall didn’t mind the modeling.
Sure it was a bit boring to stand around blankly for two hours. And yeah it was weird to have 27 pairs of eyes on him, 28 if he counted the teacher’s occasional glances, but it was art and it was okay.
Out of all those eyes, Niall only ever felt two. Harry’s green eyes burned his skin where they rested and made him hyper aware of everything. He could feel them as they traced his collarbones, as they ran down his chest, as they studied his hips. Niall tried to push Harry out of his mind, to pretend that the boy was just another artist in the same way that Harry saw Niall as just another model, but Niall just couldn’t do it. Not today.
Niall knew his cheeks were red, because he knew what part of himself Harry was drawing. He always knew what Harry was drawing, even though he hadn’t seen anything. Harry’s eyes lingered, unlike the rest of the class, head cocked to the side as he studied Niall carefully. And today those eyes were regarding Niall’s crotch.
Niall risked a peek at Harry and saw that the other boy was gnawing on his bottom lip as he stared intently at Niall. Niall knew that his boyfriend wasn’t looking at him in that way, that he was doing it from a purely artistic standpoint, but Niall still found himself wishing the other boy was looking at him with appreciation, and not calculating curiosity. He liked the way Harry was studying him thoroughly, not wanting to make any mistakes, face alive with concentration as his burning eyes ran up and down Niall. They hadn’t talked about sex – Niall didn’t really think Harry was ready – but Niall suddenly found himself wishing he was sprawled out on the mattress in Harry’s studio as those burning eyes studied him and appreciated him.
Niall bit his lip as he tried to push the dirty thoughts out of his mind, but he just couldn’t. All he could think of was Harry. Harry’s hands exploring his skin, Harry’s hot mouth dancing across his collarbones, Harry’s body lying flush against his, Harry’s lips wrapping around him. Harry, Harry, Harry.
Niall heard a slight giggle and that’s when he realized with horror that he was getting hard. He brought his hands down to cover himself and risked a peek at Harry before he trained his gaze on his own feet and tried to control the problem. Harry’s face had been hard to read, but his brow had been furrowed in thought even though the light behind his green eyes was dim.
Niall’s mind ran through everything he could think of that would make his little problem go away, but everything led him back to Harry. Harry’s fingers drawing lazily patterns on his hip, Harry’s tongue tracing his thighs, Harry’s curls tickling his stomach.
Niall jumped off the pedestal and bolted towards the back closet as he heard the teacher dismiss the class. A few kids let out happy shouts about being let out a half hour early, but most just packed their stuff away quietly. Niall could still feel eyes on him as he stumbled into the closet and shut the door behind him.
He quickly tugged on his clothes, rushing to dress himself so he could get home and fix his little problem. When it sounded like everyone had left Niall took a peek out of the closet and saw that only Harry remained. Hopefully Harry would just let him go. Niall would go see him later and make up for it.
But no such luck. As he crossed the room with his head down he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. Niall glanced up to see Harry looking at him, a small smile on the other boy’s full lips.
“Harry I need to go home all right? I’ll come over later.”
But Harry didn’t respond. Instead he dragged Niall out of the classroom and to the staircase, tugging him down the stairs.
