A wooden desk sat near a window, paints and brushes are strewn across the surface, with paper nowhere to be seen.  The curtains are open, sun streaming in with it’s morning excellence.  The quaint abode was blank and dark except for the eclectic supplies corner.  Lanky limbs are folded atop a swivel chair, beginning a new masterpiece.   

Wonwoo’s paintbrush glided over a different kind of canvas; his bare skin.  A new design was occupying his shoulder.  It was a simple rose, with its stems and thorns cascading down his forearm.  He had already repainted the week-old willow tree on his neck, and a new daisy on his ankle. The pieces are colorful, with details and depth that an ink tattoo could never achieve. Wonwoo considered his art as compelling jewelry.  

“Are those tattoos?” A boy his same age asked on the street a week later. The boy was taller than Wonwoo, adorned in black jeans and a sweater.  He wore several rings on his right hand, some silver, some gold.  His eyes were smudged with a dark line on his eyelid, making his appearance mystifying.  The sunlight made his skin glow, as well as his hair having the perfect amount of disheveledness.

“No. It’s paint. I do them myself.”  Wonwoo admitted, his answer as sharp as his eyebrows.   

“Impressive.  I’m Mingyu.” The other boy purred, his grin curling into a pompous smirk.  

“Wonwoo.”  The other whispered, only audible enough for Mingyu to hear.  Mingyu advanced toward Wonwoo,  tension rising between them.  Mingyu extended his hand toward Wonwoo, his fingers grazed over the design on the boy’s arm, his face showing content.  His touch was gentle, and Wonwoo didn’t tense up at the contact.

“Could you paint something on me?”  Mingyu breathed, his lips near the boy’s ear.  

His voice was deep, sonorous, and husky.  Wonwoo stiffened, and the organs in his chest warmed as if he stood atop a burning stove. An urge to rub the nape of his neck was suppressed, as he swiftly nodded, leading Mingyu towards his apartment.  

Wonwoo is a nervous wreck.  The boy tried to contain his uneasiness, with much difficulty.  He struggled with the key to his apartment, earning a chuckle from the attractive boy beside him.  Wonwoo swore that he heard a “cute” from Mingyu, but refused to ask about it.  He directed Mingyu inside, telling him to make himself at home.  

“So, Wonwoo. Why do you paint on yourself?” Mingyu inquired as he plopped himself down on the couch. Wonwoo didn’t answer immediately, and crossed his legs next to Mingyu.  He fidgeted with his fingers, before answering.  

“I like jewelry. I like tattoos. Tattoos are forever.  I never want to have something permanent on my body.  I think of my art as jewelry.” Wonwoo answered, facing Mingyu for the first time.  

“What am I doing for you today, anyway?” Wonwoo continued, and he had already retrieved his supplies from his bedroom.  Mingyu’s expression was coy, his eyes not blinking as he watched Wonwoo.   

“What do you suggest?” Mingyu questioned. Wonwoo tilted his head, an idea springing to life.  An amused smile escaped his lips, as he started his artwork.  

He straddled Mingyu’s hips, putting his paint palette on his lap.  Mingyu’s eyes widened, a flush appearing on his cheeks. Wonwoo fiddled with the hem of Mingyu’s sweater, before glancing for approval. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed, gaining a laugh.  

“Don’t worry.” Wonwoo grinned, peeling off Mingyu’s sweater.  The boy’s posture worsened, his insecurities taking over.  Wownoo was surprised about Mingyu’s sudden expression change, and tried to stop gazing at the boy’s toned stomach.  Wonwoo pushed Mingyu’s shoulders back, sending a reassuring look up towards the taller.  Mingyu’s face softened, before letting Wonwoo do his work.  

An hour and many flirty exchanges later, Wonwoo was finished.  He looked at his work, a satisfying grin on his face.  A trail of dark, intricate roses garnished Mingyu’s collarbone, with charcoal colored leaves.  Pastel pink and blue shadows underneath completed the piece, and Mingyu was beaming. Mingyu placed his hands on Wonwoo’s cheeks, the cheeky grin still plastered to his face.  Wonwoo’s breath hitched, his mouth slightly open.  Mingyu stared at Wonwoo, making the other feel self-conscious, but he couldn't look away.  It didn’t help that Mingyu’s shirt was on the floor, and his caramel skin was pressed up against Wonwoo’s chest.  Wonwoo hadn’t noticed that the boy sitting in front of him had chocolate eyes that sparkled, or that his slim figure had the perfect amount of muscle.  Wonwoo trailed a finger down Mingyu’s neck, and across the design he had freshly painted.  He heard Mingyu’s breath pause, before Mingyu sealed their lips together.  Wonwoo reacted immediately, his hands wrapping around the other boy’s bare waist, pulling him closer.  He could smell the latter’s cologne clearly, as he felt fingers rush through his hair.  Their breath deepened, along with the way their lips connected.  Mingyu’s lips were soft, and Wonwoo felt the other’s breath fill his lungs.  He recognized that this could be the closest he’ll ever be to heaven.  

It was Mingyu who let their lips part, gasping for air.  Their foreheads rested against each other, with Wonwoo’s hands roaming around Mingyu’s shoulders.  They let their actions speak for them, as Wonwoo trailed some kisses on the boy’s collarbone.  The pecks were brief, but most enjoyable.  Mingyu cupped Wonwoo’s chin, bringing his face to his own.  Their lips met again, but it was quick, and ended too shortly.  Mingyu Wonwoo’s face, before grasping his shirt that lay on the coffee table.  .  

“I’ll see you next week, baby.” He breathed in the Wonwoo’s ear.  He watched the taller exit his apartment, his shirt tossed over his shoulder.  A boy he met only this morning, and the only two people in the world fortunate enough to bear Wonwoo’s art on their skin.  Wonwoo felt pride in his heart, as well as honor that he would be the only one painting masterpieces on Mingyu’s body. He took a silent oath; to never portray designs on anybody but himself and the boy who made his heart flutter.  A boy named Mingyu.