A /N : Waw , this is my first SxS since… Well ever. I really don't know how this will turn out, but I hope you enjoy!
The Devil's Paintbrush
Prologue
La Dame Aux Camélias
He added a dab of yellow to the gold of her hair and leaned back to get a better look at the whole canvas. He smiled and with a thin sigh of satisfaction, set his paintbrush and palette down on the dirty paint stained cart beside him.
"Are you done yet?" a voice groaned for across the cramped studio. Syaoran smirked and stood from the narrow stool his ass had been glued to for the past three hours. Wiping his hands on his lap, he smeared a rainbow of paint on his already dirty oversized cotton slacks. In front of him, a leggy blond woman posed naked and spread on a bed in a tousle of white sheets. He leaned back on the cart and, with his arms and ankles crossed, leisurely devoured her with his eyes.
"Yes, I'm done. Tired?" he smirked, eyes twinkling with amusement. It had been all the pain in the world to get her to standing still for nearly four hours, but by god was it worth it. Plopped on her side, supporting her light weight on her right elbow, she held her right hand to her chest and her left along a long, lean and feline body. The white sheets slid over the curve of her hips like silk, hiding her sex, but her full breasts laid bare under a few strands of thick, golden waves. The lone window, behind her, shed just enough light to make her creamy skin glow. Aura exulting sensuality, she stared at the onlooker with dare and mischief.
"Finally!" she whined and collapsed on her back. When his model suddenly dropped her carefully elaborated pose and came back to life, Syaoran felt a slight pang in his chest, like a child whose sand castle was just destroyed by the timeless unforgiving sea. She stretched deeply, trying to work the kinks and stiffness out of her body. "God, isn't this kind of slavery or some crime or something?"
Syaoran kept his eyes on the pale body and chuckled at a bouncy breast "What is?"
She rolled to her side and with her head resting on her arm stared at the man through thick golden lashes, meaning to disarm, "To make someone hold still for so long."
"I don't think so." Syaoran stood and took the canvas to the back of the workshop to dry.
The woman watched him do and pouted, "What? I don't even get to see it?"
Syaoran felt himself smile as he dropped the wet canvas on a table, where half a dozen others of various sizes, already laid, "Not yet."
The woman dropped to her back and huffed in frustration "So, I lie here for you for hours and I don't even get to see the finished product? That's kind of unfair." She frowned.
Syaoran, who had come back from the table, plopped on the bed near her, "I guess I'll just have to make it up to you."
The woman smiled and twirled a lock of hair between slender fingers, "Hmm, yeah, I think you just might have to. But I just really wonder how."
Syaoran slid a hand along her milky thigh and skimmed his lips across her flat stomach, "I was thinking of something along these lines." He whispered before pressed his lips against hers.
She responded hungrily to the kiss and when they finally broke apart, she replied, panting, "Yeah, that might just do."
"Yeah?" Syaoran chuckled before both disappeared under the sheets with a flood of girly giggles.
In a homey downtown café, Eriol impatiently eyed his watch. When a chestnut haired man carrying a large package walked through the front door, Eriol gestured him a cordial 'What the fuck?'
Syaoran pulled a chair to sit in front of Eriol at the small round table and set the wide package on the floor near him, "Sorry I'm late?" he smiled sheepishly.
"Over an hour late."
"Yes, yes, I know. I got caught up." Syaoran reached for the muffin in Eriol's plate and took a quick bite.
"In what? Bed sheets?" Eriol slapped Syaoran's hand away before he could go for another bite.
Syaoran only grinned, "I started a portrait and just couldn't stop until it was finished."
Eriol sighed, his eyebrows curling in a light frown "Yes, I know how you are when you start painting. And because I know how you are when you start painting, I also know you did much more than just paint." Syaoran felt his lips curve, the quick image that crossed his mind sent blood rushing to his loins. "I don't ask for much, just that you try to keep it in your pants when you agree to meet me at 12:30 at the café, but even that you can't do." Eriol vented.
Syaoran laughed and reached for the package by the side of his chair. In a quick gesture that dismissed all of Eriol's anger, he delicately undressed the wide canvas of its brown paper wrapping and set it on the table.
"Well? What do you think?" leaning forward in anticipation, like child awaiting praise, Syaoran smirked at his gaping friend's quiet astonishment.
Speechless, Eriol slowly reached for the canvas. From a simple wooden chair, a fair skinned maiden smiled at him. With a hand on her lap and the other caressing sunlight, she sat in front of a wide window hidden under a flow of lace curtains. Long dark waves skimmed free over the white of her simple ankle long summer dress. "She's beautiful…" Eriol awed, eyes gleaming with amazement.
"Yeah, I know that," Syaoran gestured with light impatience, "but what do you think of the painting?"
Eriol's eyes painfully tore from the gorgeous model's face to soar across the whole picture. The neutral colors, gave the picture a natural simplicity, a pureness that translated well with the model's aura and graceful beauty, but at second glance, the image took a complete different aspect. The subtle shades of pink on the model's slightly parted lips, the pulpy red tongue visible in the darkness of her mouth, and the strap subtly sliding off the left shoulder, Eriol found it all surprisingly erotic, if not arousing.
Eyes full of wonder, Eriol looked up to see his friend smirking back playfully, "My gift to you, you like it? I always knew you were a pervert. Thought I'd give you something to jack off to in case the real thing finally cuts you off."
Eriol threw his head back with a laugh. Syaoran's talent baffled him once more. He had skillfully managed, with a simple play of color and lines, to amplify Tomoyo's sexuality until it channeled Eriol's naked desire, and all the while preserving the purity of her angel-like image. The trick worked with such efficiency it seemed supernatural.
"You won't be laughing when it happens." Syaoran said and reached into his back pocket for a pack of smokes.
Eriol chuckled, "You really are amazing, you know that?"
"Of course I do, else I wouldn't be doing what I do." Syaoran leaned back in his chair, but Eriol shook his head sadly at the comment. Syaoran's laidback carefreeness sometimes appalled him.
"Right… I just wish you'd stop selling yourself short like this."
Syaoran's head tilted to the side, "What do you mean?"
Cautiously replacing the paper over the canvas, he slowly put the picture away, "Don't you think you should start taking things a little more seriously?" Syaoran straightened his back and plopped elbows on the table, "You paint and are quite good at it, but you can't keep doing this for a living, not the way you're going."
"And why is that?" Syaoran's eyes gleamed with mischief. He loved to make Eriol worry and Eriol pertinently knew it.
He sighed, "Painting isn't the only part of being a painter, Syaoran. Tell me, how many paintings have you sold in the last year?" Syaoran opened his mouth to protest, "My point exactly. Even this one you won't let me pay for." Eriol gestured at the canvas resting by him.
"But it's a gift, and I'm the one who asked you if I could paint your girlfriend."Syaoran replied, scratching the back of his neck.
Exasperated, Eriol threw his head back, "You always have an excuse." he groaned, "What about this girl you're painting now…?"
"Shelby."
"Shelby." Eriol repeated, raising a brow.
"A lovely foreigner. She's American. International student at T University." Syaoran smiled, eyes glazed with memories of some very heated sex.
"Right… And she's paying you how?" Syaoran eyes twinkled at the obvious pun, "Actually don't even answer that. I give up. You're hopeless." Eriol threw his hands up, defeated.
"I am not starving Eriol. You know that. All these girls may not pay for my art, but they're all quite wealthy and treat me pretty well. They take care of me." He chuckled, "I think they enjoy playing patron to some lone artist."
"But you're better than that." Eriol murmured with a frown. Syaoran said nothing. Instead, he pulled a cigarette out of the pack and brought it to his lips before offering one to Eriol. Eriol slowly shook his head no, "I quit."
"Since when?" Syaoran smiled, lighting the tip of the stick with a shiny silver lighter.
"About a week ago. I always only smoked to accompany you anyway."
"Huh hu," Syaoran exhaled deeply, "And I Bet Tomoyo has something to do with this."
The accuracy of it had Eriol smiling, "And what if she does? It's not a crime to want a dear one to be healthy."
"But it is one to be so utterly whipped."
"You call it dominance, I call it love." Eriol shrugged.
Syaoran chuckled, "So, what's with the sudden meeting? I'm sure you've got a better reason for sticking around over an hour than just the enticing need to lecture me about my painting and tell me you quit smoking."
"Yeah, actually…" Eriol paused, staring intently at his hands folded on his lap. Finally, he looked up, "Tomoyo and I decided to get married."
Syaoran froze an instant, his amber eyes quietly scanning Eriol's for mischief, "Are you serious?" his face finally broke into a grin, "Well. After six and a half years she finally got you to tie the knot. Congratulations."
Eriol smiled, but he couldn't tell if the edge in his friend's voice was sarcasm, mockery or genuine disbelief. It was going to be just as difficult as he'd expected. "And I want you to be my best man."
This time, Syaoran's moment of vacancy was slightly longer. He warily stared at Eriol, a cigarette stick dangling loosely from his lips. Finally snapping back to reality, he took the long stick from his lips and crushed it full in the ashtray. He leaned back in his chair and watched himself nervously tap his lighter against the wooden table "…You're really getting married…?"
Eriol grinned, "That's what I just said."
"I didn't think you were being serious." Syaoran ran a nervous hand through thick messy strands of chestnut. After a brief pause, he jerked forward like he'd been stung, "You're getting married?!"
"I'm getting married to Tomoyo Daidouji winter of this year." Eriol said, very slowly.
Syaoran gaped, then settled back, "Well I'll be damned…" then gaped some more. "You know, I always knew the woman who managed to get Hiiragizawa Eriol tied down in a seven year relationship had to have some kind of supernatural power in her, but I'd never thought she would be powerful enough to get you to marry her." He leaned forward, eyes round with curiosity "How'd she do it? Blackmail? Hold back sex?"
Eriol chuckled, "Nothing so gruesome, I assure you." Whether he was talking about the blackmail or the sex, Syaoran couldn't tell.
Syaoran plopped back in his seat, "Well I'll be damned…" With a playful smirk, his eyes twinkled at Eriol, "Unbelievable. Congratulations, I'm happy for you… Thought I'm not sure Tomoyo got the best part of the bargain. Poor girl has no idea what she's getting into. Somebody should warn her she's about to marry a perverted old man in the skin of a 23 year old."
Eriol smiled, "I don't think she would mind. You might not know it, but she has quite the old man fetish."
"Really?"Syaoran leaned forward, visibly interested.
"Yes, really" Eriol replied, but it wasn't his place to elaborate any further. How he even got to discover this was a secret Tomoyo and he would carry to their grave. "So… You're ok with it? The wedding I mean…" Eriol said voice oozing apprehension.
Syaoran glanced at the ceiling and placed another cigarette between his lips as he thought of the only one of his models he'd never slept with. Not that he hadn't wanted to, but he didn't make a habit of sleeping with his best friend's girl, "Sure, why wouldn't I be? I like Tomoyo. She's pretty, kind and didn't even once complain when she had to stay still for hours. The girl's a keeper."
Eriol's chest fell with relief; he hadn't even realized he was holding his breath, "I'm glad. Best man?"
Syaoran smirked, "Do you even have to ask?"
With his head thrown back and a loud sigh of relief, Eriol slumped back in his chair, "What a load off my mind!" He nodded at his friend, "This was easier than I expected."
Syaoran had a short laugh, "You'd think I was your father-in-law or something, the way you're so relieved." he feigned indignation, but was secretly flattered his approval mattered so much to the person he considered his only family.
Eriol frown, "A father-in-law would be easier to please." he glanced at his watch and rose from his seat, "Alright, I have to get going. Promised Tomoyo I'd help her with the preparative for the engagement party."
"Right— Wait, what engagement party?" Syaoran stared eyes bulging and pale faced, the cigarette fell from his lips to the floor. Eriol took the canvas under his arm and moved towards the exit. Syaoran's panicked eyes quietly followed his retreating figure.
"The one you'd know all about if you had gotten here on time." Syaoran opened his mouth to protest, eyes begging for pity, "And yes, you haveto attend. I'll call you tonight to give you the details." Eriol said before disappearing through the front door with a short wave.
Syaoran stared at the door a moment before dropping his forehead loudly on the hard table. Around the café, heads turned towards the noise. Big formal events were never Syaoran's cup of tea. Somehow, one way or another, he always managed to make a complete fool of himself. He turned his head to the side with a sharp groan. On his forehead a red round blotch had already appeared. He stayed down a moment, just staring ahead, his cheek against cold wood.
Eriol, the biggest player he knew, the man who enjoyed women as entertainment, who formerly swore off love and commitment, his best friend since childhood, was getting married. He was happy for the both of them, but it was an idea he'd have to get used to. He couldn't help feeling that, once again, life went on, leaving him to trail behind.
With a short sigh, Syaoran gathered himself and rose from his seat. When he exited the café, a couple of heads, a good number of them female, turned following his movement. As soon as he reached the street, his hands stuffed in his pockets, Syaoran quickly melted in the sea of passersby. He quietly wondered if Shelby would still be at the studio when he got back. He wouldn't have refused another endearing session of necking in bed. A short bald man rudely ran into him and quickly walked away without a word of apology, interrupting Syaoran's train of thoughts. His body turned at the impact and he stood there a moment staring at the man's short sturdy figure. He held both arms up and framed the man's retreating back between two thumbs and indexes. Immobile in a flood of busy bodies, Syaoran shifted the frame up to the sky. The sun was bright out, but it was probably going to rain soon. He was getting kind of tired of Shelby, maybe he'd go sit at the park and paint the wet scenery until he found a new target—model. He was contemplating the idea, when he felt something bump against his shoulder.
"Excuse me." said a creamy voice.
Syaoran dropped his arms, finally realizing he was standing still in the middle of a busy sidewalk, "Sorr—" He started, but when emerald met amber, time stood still and the air crackled.
Her deep green eyes sparkled like gems and a single bat of those long lashes just might have blown him away. Her silky auburn hair fell just over her breast where a deep collar teasingly showed off lovely cleavage. Around a slender neck, a thin silver chain held a delicate white flower and over a cute round chin, gorgeous pink lips were awful inviting… Syaoran couldn't help but stare. He swallowed painfully. Even when she sent him a questioning look, he felt a sharp pang in his guts and a soft churning tingle in his chest. It was a sensation he knew well enough to recognize as desire, but never had he felt it with such intensity and so little restraint. He wanted her with such violence it made his skin damp and his heart ache.
The soft lips curved into a playful smile, "You might want to put some ice on that." She gestured at the mark on his forehead before slowly walking away.
Wishing he could hold her back just a little longer, Syaoran almost raised an arm to stop her, but could only watch as she began to disappear back into the crowd. He quickly raised both arms and framed her delicate figure before she disappeared around the corner. When she was out in sight, he finally reluctantly dropped his arms to the side and turned around, resuming his walk home.
He kept his eyes steady and his mind focus as to burn her image on his retina. When he got home, he would paint her, again and again, until, unable to leave, she would become his to keep.
A/N: Well, that's it for the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed.
Eriol and Tomoyo's relationship will probably be translated into another story following a parallel storyline. Love to know your thoughts about this chapter so R&R.
Ciao