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That look makes Joe grin wider because he can see how much Nicky despises the comment and he loves it. He would normally soothe the curl on Nicky's lips with his own but kissing isn't easy in that position so he just strokes over Nicky's thighs and ass instead, patting him gently. "Oh, I am," he admits, readily. "I'm desperate for you, tesoro." It's not even a lie, Joe truly is.

"I can do that," Joe confirms warmly, putting his hand back on Nicky's cock and giving him a firm squeeze. He doesn't stroke him at once, too busy guiding his own cock against Nicky's ass, rolling his hips to press in carefully. He goes slow but he'll go all the way if Nicky doesn't tell him to stop, rocking until his hips are flush against Nicky's ass and he's gasping against his shoulder at how it feels.

What Joe is doing with his hands is far preferred, so it's a good thing Nicky doesn't mind in the least. He shivers for the touch, a whole-body thing that comes over him, and he whines slightly at the touch that's brought out of him. It's so good to the point that he starts squirming a little, rocking against Joe's hand, and then back because Joe's cock is there.

Stuck between heaven and a hand, in his opinion, which is the best place to be. Nicky finally gasps, forehead hitting the pillow as he rubs it back and forth, forgetting everything else for a moment. "Do I feel...does it feel good?" he breathlessly asks.

"Yeah," Joe whispers, his forehead against the back of Nicky's shoulder, feeling the paint smear a little between them as he blankets Nicky's back with his chest. He rolls his hips slowly, carefully giving them both a measured amount of friction, groaning at how good it already feels, even slow and restrained like this.

"You feel incredible. So warm, so tight." Joe starts moving his hand again, stroking Nicky steadily, rubbing at the wet tip of his cock with his thumb. "It's like you were made just for me, hayati."

He cannot wait until they are both tested and it will feel better than good. It will feel absolutely heavenly, in a way that Nicky is desperately looking forward to. Right now, though, still feels wonderful. Joe is inside of him, his art is on him, his hand is working him.

He is in heaven, he decides, and he can't believe he's made it here because he picked a fight in an email. "Maybe I was," is his throaty, rough reply, most other words failing him. It's so early to say such things, but Nicky feels them, in his heart. He reaches a hand down to slide over Joe's, tangling their fingers together so he can touch, feel, and enjoy. "You are the incredible one," he mumbles, into the pillow as he presses his forehead against it, with another wave of pleasure creating over him.

"Maybe you were," Joe agrees, breathlessly. He too is beginning to feel like it was so, though he's aware that it's too early to feel such things. "And I for you, Nicolo." He adjusts his grip to welcome Nicky's fingers between his, following his lead, stroking him a little tighter as he quickens his pace.

He huffs at being called incredible himself, biting Nicky's shoulder gently. "Are you truly going to argue with me about who's more incredible right now?" he teases, his voice rough with pleasure and love.

It feels early to be thinking about destiny or soulmates, so Nicky puts it out of mind for the moment. He's eager to dismiss it, eager to focus only on the way Joe feels when they do this, slipping his fingers into the spaces that Joe's make, his thumb dragging along the inside of Joe's index finger with a firm touch, one that his shaky breath doesn't reflect.

"Yusuf," he gasps, at the full use of his name, because he feels so absolutely, completely good. "Thought you," he gasps out, still trying to hold his brain in one piece, "liked it when I argued," he counters stubbornly, lifting his hips to force Joe deeper.

"I like how you say my name," Joe whispers, smiling against Nicky's shoulder. Very few people call him Yusuf, and he likes how it sounds on Nicky's lips, breathless with passion.

"I love it when you argue," he corrects, groaning when Nicky lifts his hips and makes his next thrust unexpectedly deep. It's easy to keep one hand on Nicky's cock and put the other on his thigh then, to quicken his pace, pressing harder against Nicky, gasping at how incredible it feels.

If that's what Joe wants, he'll say it all the time. He'll forget that his name is anything but Yusuf, if it makes him so happy. (Strange to think that only weeks ago, Nicky would've blithely steamrolled past caring about what any random artist thinks, but look at him now).

He grins crookedly at Joe agreeing, and mutters a few curses under his breath when his sharp movement creates a new position that is, quite frankly, glorious. "Good," he says firmly, because he has, "No plans to stop."

His breathing is starting to get sharper, huffed out, because he's closer to the edge, especially when Joe picks up speed.

Joe doesn't mind that name -it's the one he uses most of the time, and he's quite happy to introduce himself with it- but there is something special about being called Yusuf, something intimate and warm that he likes very much.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," Joe says, grinning against Nicky's shoulder. He groans, stroking Nicky faster because he can feel his own pleasure building and building and he doesn't want to come before Nicky does. "Are you close, tesoro?" he whispers, nipping on Nicky's shoulder. "Are you going to come for me?"

Nicky thinks he will use it sparingly, as a tease. It will be a surprise for Joe to get used to and seek out. He will call him Yusuf sporadically, just to see him brighten and delight at it. He will use it like a charming, romantic weapon.

It will be perfect.

He rocks against their hands, frantic now, rutting more than any rhythm, nodding wordlessly at the question. "Yes," he vows, voice barely more than a raspy whisper. "So close, Yusuf, caro, but I want, I want to feel," he breathes out, catching his thoughts. "I want to feel you come. In me."

Just like Joe does with Nicolo, though he might like the name too much to be able to only use it sparingly. He will be defenseless against Nicky using such a weapon, and will indeed grin delightedly each and every time. Joe is easy like that, when it comes to Nicolo.

"I can do that," Joe whispers against Nicky's shoulder, his grip on his thigh tightening. "Be happy to." It won't take long, either, Joe snapping his hips forward a few more times, pushing himself inside as deep and hard as he thinks Nicky will enjoy. He comes with a ragged groan, his entire body shuddering with pleasure, his face pressed to Nicky's shoulder.

Nicky's face isn't pretty at the moment. His nose flares with the deep inhalations he's taking, he's squirming as he tries to maximize the sensations from both actions (against the bed, into their hands, and back up against Joe's cock).

Still, he knows that he's close, too, but willing to torture himself on the edge to wait for Joe. And there, there it is. Nicky's face slides into a serene smile as he presses his forehead to the bed, stroking their hands over his cock one last time before he comes, with a ragged and endeared, "Yusuf," tripping past his lips.

Joe would still find Nicky attractive if he saw him red and panting, but he is very biased about it. He groans and keeps stroking Nicky to bring him over the edge too, tightening his grip and nipping on his shoulder when he feels him come, making a mess of their overlapping fingers.

"Nicolo," he whispers, hissing when he feels Nicky tighten around him, sending another wave of pleasure through him, a little oversensitive now. He presses soft kisses along Nicky's neck, leaning down on his elbow so he can keep their bodies together without smothering him.

Nicky gives a pleased hum as he adjusts a little, peering back at Joe with a lazy, sated smile. "You still need to do your art," he reminds him, shifting his hand to press it against the sheets beside him, knowing that the paint on both of them is likely flaked and gone by now.

Honestly, he's even wondering if there's any stuck in his ass, after Joe fucked him like that. "No pictures of this one," he teases.

The paint is melting and flaking everywhere, Joe will need to change the sheets before they go to bed in the evening. It was entirely worth it, in his opinion.

He hums against the nape of Nicky's neck, smiling. "I do. But if you want me to come again I'll need a minute to recover, caro," he teases, shifting to gently pull out of Nicky. "No pictures? But they'd be such good pictures." He's only playful, he won't push Nicky to let him take any.

Nicky grins at the idea of making Joe come again. "I have no such superpower," he regretfully informs him, giving him a delighted grin as he turns a little, cautious to stay on his side, where he can gently slide his crooked knuckles over Joe's hip.

The handprint there is flaking too, but Nicky has his memory to think of how wonderful it had looked, for such a short time. "Maybe if you had a Polaroid," he negotiates, arching a brow in challenge.

"What a shame," Joe says, shaking his head mock-regretfully. He moves to lie down next to Nicky, on his side too, careful not to smudge the hand prints any further. He smiles when Nicky touches him and reaches out in return, stroking his fingers over Nicky's lips gently. He's thinking about painting Nicky's face to make him the moon, as they discussed.

Joe's eyebrows arch in surprise and he leans up to look at Nicky seriously. "I don't have a Polaroid," he says, slowly. "But if that is your one condition to letting me take naughty pictures, I can definitely borrow one." He grins, delighted.

Nicky grins at Joe with the dazed look of a man who's just had one of the best nights of his life. He suspects that the more he spends with Joe, the more he will have like it, because Joe is the single most interesting, infuriating, and brilliant man that Nicky has ever met.

His smile turns lazy as he leans in to kiss Joe's shoulder a few times, nuzzling it before easing back. He's thoughtful as he says, "If you did, and the pictures were here in your private space, I wouldn't hate the idea." How different is it, really, from Joe's drawings, which are also good enough to recognize Nicky?

He parts his lips to the touch of Joe's fingers, breathing out heavily. "I cannot believe I have an artist boyfriend," he admits with a soft huff of laughter. "A month ago, I only had an artist nemesis."

"I wouldn't show them to anyone," Joe confirms, leaning into Nicky's kisses. "Just like any art I'll make of you. I'll always ask first." He puts his hand on Nicky's waist, giving him a squeeze.

"I don't know that I was your nemesis," Joe says, chuckling as he leans in for a soft kiss, replacing his fingers with his lips. "A friendly artistic disagreement, perhaps." He's grinning still, because he knows it wasn't very friendly to start with.

He cups Nicky's cheek in his palm gently. "I can't believe that snooty critic who left an entirely unfair review of my work turned out to be such a good boyfriend, either," he teases, though he does mean it.

"Then I look forward to approving paintings, drawings, clay sculptures, and caricatures," Nicky teases, shifting a little forward at the squeeze to his hip, wanting to be as close to Joe as possible, seeing as he's so very warm and so very there.

He grins, lines around his eyes crinkling. "Oh, I don't know. You think I respond to everyone? You were much feistier than anyone else. You had nemesis written all over you," he teases with a delighted grin, happy that they've moved beyond that.

"He is very snooty, isn't he? With such a big nose," he jokes.

Joe lights up a little at the idea of clay sculptures because he hadn't thought of that, and now very much wants to do it. He puts his other hand on Nicky's face, running his thumbs over his cheekbones like he's learning them so he can reproduce them later. "You'll be approving a lot, I think," he says, putting his arms more firmly around Nicky, giving him a sunny smile.

"I was feisty because you deserved it, tesoro," Joe teases, tapping Nicky's chin. "Being so rude and unfair." He doesn't mean that, and he too is happy they were able to move past that.

"Very," he confirms, leaning in to kiss the bridge of Nicky's -admittedly- big nose. "I like it, though."

"I cannot wait," Nicky says honestly, though he thinks he might draw the line of having too many things about him in one of Joe's art shows. Some, he can live with. A focus on him? Maybe not so much.

His laughter is filled with an amused snort as he leans onto his back, only rolling onto his side when he remembers the flaking paint. "So rude and so unfair, and so very wrong about your body," he reminds him. "I still maintain I was right about your subject focus. I'm going to make you famous, Joe, because your talent demands it."

Joe wouldn't be obvious enough to curate an entire exhibit around Nicky, but he can certainly foresee him being his muse in the future. He shakes his head mock-reprovingly, stroking his hand down Nicky's side. They both need a shower.

"And I still maintain that I don't see what's wrong with using yourself as a model," he teases, leaning up on his elbow. He grins when Nicky says that he's going to make him famous. "Yeah? And what will that cost me?" he asks, leaning in to give Nicky a soft kiss.

Nicky leans over to press a kiss to Joe's pecs, up to his shoulder, and up his neck. "I understand now why you were so keen to use yourself as a model, now that I've seen you," he praises, his other hand sliding down to grip at Joe's hip with a possessive firmness that starts to hint at the cost.

Because it is going to mean his presence in Joe's life. Not unending, maybe, but as long as he can possibly steal. "You'll have to bring me to all your openings," he negotiates, "let me argue on the phone with your galleries. Book you interviews and jobs," he goes on. "And in the middle of that, you must eat all the food I make for you."

The gentle kissing makes Joe close his eyes with a pleased sigh, leaning into the soft press of Nicky's lips. "It's not a question of vanity," Joe says, though they've already had this argument. "I just find bodies the most interesting subjects to paint. And mine is the easiest model."

He tilts his head at the grip on his hip, right above the flaking hand print. He likes the possessiveness, he finds, and it comes as a bit of surprise. He would usually balk at feeling so owned, especially so early in a relationship, but with Nicky it comes without any concern.

"A steep price, tesoro," he jokes, leaning in to kiss Nicky on the lips, his eyes warm. "But those are all things you will do for me. What will I do for you?"