Artistic Flare

Series: Naruto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2, 130
Warnings: Yaoi, Male/Male, Anal, Foreplay
Paring: Itachi x Deidara
Summary: To create a masterpiece, one must have the correct inspiration and the perfect canvas.
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Artistic Flare

Soft mewls of desire and lust drowned out by the sounds of the crashing easel falling flat against the ground, the subtle caressing through material leading to much more than they could have imaging with the smaller man originally in his arms while he looked on to what he was doing now locked in a profound heated kiss allowing the exploration of the blonde's probing tongue inside his moist wanting mouth. Normally he would have been fighting it off trying to take the lead for his role only this time to be continuing with the flow from the blonde’s quick advances, gasped breathes for precious oxygen, the shirt flung over his head swiftly losing the first article of clothing that prevented contact between them.

The simple alone time filled with unfathomable concentration towards the near blank canvas turned into turmoil from raging hormones, all focus on the simple artwork he had sorted to create lost in the void of bliss of wandering strokes over his chest, down through the old worn ripped jeans causing hardening actions thrown into the arms of the instigator of his arousing problem. To Deidara, he might have complained about the distraction at first but nothing was reaching out and grabbing him for that inspiration needed to create a masterpiece, splashes of dreary colours the only thing mapping that he had been there.

“Absolutely stunning” Muttered the words from the raven haired male’s lips, at the flimsy worn out shirt removed from this lithe chest but no matter how many times he spoke of the rare angelic frame that he had, it was him who was mistaken about it with him being something more of a vision.

Unzipped pants sliding down the firm tones legs of his lover left him spell bound at the sculpture that one the gods could create in such a faultless form, each knot of a muscle individually proportioned, refined through perseverance to become perfection, Itachi was indeed that canvas that he needed to create beauty. His tools of the trade placed in constructed chaos on the table at his side, the outlines of his sketch needed to create the boundaries of where it was going to take place dipping the fine tip of the round brush into bottle of onyx ink, sliding a hand around Itachi’s waist nuzzling his head into the flat stomach feeling him shiver from the cold liquid dripping over his chest. Swirling wispy lines places without any real structure, tracing the natural contours of his body allowing that to be the outline that was needed circling bristles around dark pink circles that stood out over the lighter skin, trailing down lower down his abdomen towards the area that was happy from the rubbing of his chest against him.

An artist does not shun the smallest thing and in Itachi’s case, saying that he was undersized was preposterous in itself, cupping his hand around the sensitive sack that snugly fit into the palm of his hand provoking the gentlest moans massaging with squeezing motions, a pressed thumb deep into the flesh while dragging the brush along his shaft. A breezing breath caressed over the cooling liquid drying it at a quickened pace from the light blow combining the stimulation from his fondling hand brought a sharp inhale, balling up the hands that dangled lifelessly at his side, staring up into those crimson eyes intently fixated on him. “I mustn’t allow it to bleed, un” sly lips smirked placing a kiss on the exposed tip, dipping his tongue to lick the thick milk collecting in the dimple.

The brush dropped to his side from the first stage completed, sliding moist lips over further pressing his covered teeth into him nibbling around to hypersensitive raw flesh swiping his tongue including a content hum pulsing vibrations through him. Quick hands shot out clutching onto his shoulders, a support to keep him upright on unsteady knees faltering on giving out, a rejected wrench down mumbling words of complaint as Deidara pulled back, telling him that he couldn’t ruin his creation… yet. A guided hand pushed Itachi down onto the sheet covered plush that was used to prevent stains, Deidara rising to his feet looming overhead unbuttoning the first metal clasp, painfully slowly catching the zip downwards revealing something that he knew Itachi was longing for drawing it out to drive him insane with the Uchiha’s lack of patience in these situations. Removed undergarments left him exposing the light pinkish skin of his frame sliding wandering fingers down his own chest teasing his nipple causing playful groans just for him, squatting down to sit on his lap brushing hardening arousals against each other, this time a moan that wasn’t put on.

Outlines layer for his guide now colour was needed to bring some life to the image, daubs of acrylic paint in variety of shades dropped onto the heated flesh breaking each section with a magnificent swirl of visual stimulation. Lemon chiffon, Alizarin, Celadon, Heliotrope, Persian Indigo, Feldgrau, each colour standing out magnificently on the medium strength Flax canvas needing to be blended into contrast. Filbert brush in hand was not ideal for covering such a superlative area with his hands, placing between the blonde’s teeth pressing the hard bristles into the first colour swirling in snake like motions over the taunt muscles, leaning in closer not to miss the finer details, shocked hisses of want coming from contact between growling erections. The natural canvas couldn’t stay still with the fast drying nature of the acrylics, keen to progress the time along but the artist was not willing to allow him that but still as anyone under complete exhilaration he remained still only arching his body up into deep strokes while Deidara masked the Deep Coral nubs with splashed of Apricot.

Faint traces of skin flashed between the vivid twirls of colours from the base coat finished, now finer detail had to be added in the form of the watercolour palette coating his fingers with variety filing in the gaps like a paint by numbers deeply massaging the textures, still in the same breath grinding himself against his hips rolling head back throatily groaning. “You are my magnum opus, un” He would never let someone else create such splendid looks of desire on that chiselled face.

Artwork was almost finished, leaning back to take a good hard look at what he had created swiping thick lines of paint where there needed to be more, the final marking one he had completed of dipped ink scribbling across his chest marking the artists name as well as the scribed words of the Uchiha being his own property with the simple words of ‘Mine’ tattooed across him. Combined together with his own artistic flare, the canvas of Itachi’s body was simply breathtaking, the living model panting heavily softly staring up at him covered ruby orbs thick against his forehead from sweat. Unlike others, Deidara didn’t want his work to remain unflawed forever, the fleeting moment of glory would be imprinted on other’s minds rather than the long drawn out admiration over the years, this was no exception in his beliefs leaning forward hovering his chest just above the wet works pressing his lips against Itachi’s waiting for the response.

Broken lips lined with the drying saliva gave that permission taking the bottom lip in between his own sucking against the pout skin mingling fluids from the coaxing of his tongue into the other’s hot cavern giving him back the dominator role that he had taken away from him earlier, colour glossy hands tangling through the blonde wisps pulled down into intensity smearing paint over the untainted chest. Deidara too had been holding off that urge to ravage that body during his time, a model of control while his mind scream in need now finally allowing him to be consumed by the other no longer playing the game of cat and mouse inside his own mouth.

Ragged pants broke the two of them apart lingering lips close touching the tips of each others nose, combining the lust gazes of cobalt and crimson which was the only colours that made sense together, no hue, tint, shade, value or saturation could describe the intensity between them, whispered words of longing leaving trails on hand prints over Deidara’s supple cheeks brought a gentle smile. But there was still one touch left that he needed to complete the picture, sitting back up with a bottle of glossy walnut oil used to thin and adhere the sheen oil paints he used, the normally thinning liquid tipped down his chest sprinkling droplets onto the awaiting member, gliding firm hands over the ink stained skin causing whimpers from Itachi. The wait was not going to be long from the blonde breaking past his limit, hovering hips spreading himself to accommodate that package that more than filled him, gliding down the lubricated length reacting simultaneous moans from the objective finally reached.

Pain tore through his lower extremities from the lack of proper preparation but did he care? Not at all, only took the time to get used to slowly rocking his hips like a rhythmic pendulum, sliding hands through the mess that he had created combining the colours further while other hands slinked around enclosing him, leaving hand prints on his backside from the back up support lingering smeared hand prints over the firm cheeks. Momentum picking up lifting higher off him, dropped weight down onto the impaling cock rained cries throughout the small studio room bouncing on top on Itachi using his bent knees to support himself from slipping off only losing grip from the oiled digits scratching to stay firm. A sudden roll, reversal of positions being pinned to the ground by the heavier weight on top of him, a thankful move shown appreciation by the tongue plunged into his mouth, slender arms entangling around the sturdy neck with bruising kisses of desire wrapping his legs around the onyx male’s waist directing thrusts.

Strangled gasps of ecstasy broke the kiss that Deidara wanted to bad, finding a new place to settle his lips against the soft skin of his neck in a piercing bite releasing flowing Carmine into his awaiting mouth, tantalising the tastebuds in the lust of blood that drove the pair drawing back the liquid into the self made cup sharing it with his partner letting him know how bitter sweet he tasted. Responded jabs in return provoking the rougher actions deeply penetrating him cursing out loud how much he loved it, how he wanted it, exactly how Itachi was giving it to him, the sexual appetite matched and complemented by the other, torn skin under white fingernails blazing down his back, raking the fair skin harder when the arched back tried to escape the primary shock, half crescent moons buried into shoulders clinging for dear life from rapid thrusts.

Harder, deeper, skilfully angled causing uncontrollable cries unable to hold out on the feeling brewing in his belly waving orgasm through his system spurting the thick streams over his abdomen, rubbing further into his skin from the one on top not slowing down, milking the pleasure to the extreme. Itachi wasn’t ready thought the tightening of the muscles clamping around the thick length helped to bring to that one step closer, ravaging teeth against his stained shoulder , the yells of command to pound him harder receipted immediately feeling like he was about to tear the thin walls inside, still not enough to achieve that with the final grunting gasping cry from the Uchiha causing warmth to spread inside him from the seed released riding it out with the last few pitches sinking down into nothing.

Linger feelings of the genitalia shifted flowing semen down his crack staining his thighs, losing the body mass of Itachi while he pulled out of him allowing Deidara to gaze at the artwork dripping with bodily secretions, trembling in bliss coming down off the high that threatened to knock him out for the count. The canvas of his body resembled the abstract style of Tachisme, vivid colours combined with no structure that conveyed its own story that the onlooker was to obtain and relate to in their own mind, Deidara’s expressed the feelings he had towards the other, the eternal bliss they shared when in each others arms, those arms he wanted back around him with a tug back down into the painted mess surrounding them. Words of admiration could not express what his emotions were, the strong protective arms and the warm caressing breaths against his neck between interlocked legs were enough to speak more than any picture could portray. He was his own Tachisme, his Itachi, his model of perfection, his artistic desire.