ziam smut

Draw Me Like One Of Your Bradford Girls

Credits for this fic - http://erstwhiled.livejournal.com/1845.html

Summary:

Liam needs some extra-credit for a class he really shouldn't have taken. There, he meets Zayn, and Liam ends up getting a whole lot more than just extra-credit.

-

"Naked. As in, no clothes, naked?" Liam could tell from the blank look on his art professor's face that she was being completely serious.

"Generally, 'nude' is used more often in art." Professor Givens waved a hand nonchalantly, the many bangles on her wrist tinkling together as they slid down her forearm. "But yes, you would be naked."

Liam's brow furrowed and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it until he winced. "I'd be naked – nude – in a room full of people?" He was starting to feel sick even at the idea of it.

In keeping with her rather dry attitude, the woman in front of him simply arched an eyebrow at him and said, "No Mr. Payne, you'd be standing nude in an empty room. That's the type of extra-credit work I assign students who hand in somewhat abysmal pieces for grading." Her eyes dropped pointedly to the poster tube in Liam's hand and he flushed.

That was the whole reason he was here, after class, begging for some kind of extra-credit so he could improve his grade in a class he shouldn't even be taking. He can't draw, he's not an artist. He's a singer. Liam knows now that he should have dropped the class earlier, taken up something more his style. Maybe that song writing class his roommate, Harry Styles, said was good and easy. But according to Harry, art was easy too because 'you could give them a crayon outline of your cock, covered in glitter, and you'd still get full marks'. Liam thought maybe he hated Harry a little right now.

"That was sarcasm," Liam said and she smiled at him, quick, sharp, and completely sarcastic in and of itself.

"It's this or nothing, Mr. Payne, that's all I can give you." She looked at him expectantly now, and Liam crumbled; he needed this grade. She continued on when he nodded hesitantly. "Good. I'll see you here at ten to five. And don't worry, it's an advanced drawing class, you've got nothing they haven't seen before or got themselves."

Liam blanched and nodded again before leaving the classroom in search of a strong cup of tea. And maybe Harry Styles, so he could at least tell him he was considering punching him in the face.

***

When Liam arrived back at the classroom, he was pushing 4:55. He smiled apologetically and tried to ignore the two women already seated, waiting for class to begin. Professor Givens just looked at him over the top of her glasses and pointed him in the direction of a screen set up in the back corner of the room.

Once behind it, Liam sank into a crouch. Hanging his head low, he sucked in a few deep breaths to try and ease the rolling in his stomach. He was a performer, he could stand up in front of hundreds and sing his heart out not feeling a fraction of the nerves he had at this moment.

"Probably because you do that with all your clothes on, Liam," he whispered to himself, the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes. Beyond the screen, he could hear students arriving, setting up, and waiting for him to stand completely starkers in front of them. After one last steadying breath, Liam pushed himself up from the ground and began to undress. His shoes and socks came off; his jumper and long-sleeve were folded and set on a stool that had been provided. Shaky fingers slipped on the button of his jeans, scrabbling uselessly at the fastening for a few seconds until they decided to work again. Liam stepped out of his jeans and placed them, folded, on top of his other clothes. He couldn't bring himself to take off his briefs just yet. Instead, he grabbed the robe that had been hanging off one corner of the screen and slipped it on.