Body Painting.
"Can I paint you?"
"Uh, yeah, but why are you asking?"
"No, no, I mean, can I paint on you, like, on your body."
Jace was quite a bit surprised by the question, but trusted his fiancé.
"Sure."
Clary smiled that smile that blew everything away. Then she hugged him and went to get her paints. Jace sat down on the couch.
When she came back, she had a huge assortment of things Jace didn't and probably would never know the name of.
"Take of your shirt."
"Hot."
Clary rolled her eyes. Jace usually hated being told want to do, but this was Clary, and when Clary did it, it was kind of hot. No, wait, it was very hot. His shirt came off quickly.
She pushed him gently back until he was lying on his back and straddled him. He grabbed her hips.
"Woah, there, Darlin', is this what I think it is?"
"Probably not," she said, forcing his hands back to his sides.
He didn't realize until just then that she had set up a table next to the couch and put her supplies there. She never ceased to amaze him.
"Okay, this is the hard part. You can't move, or the paint will crack."
"Okay."
"Promise."
"Sure."
She took a paintbrush from her pile, dipped it in blue paint, and then traced his collarbone with it. He flinched.
"Clary," he whined, "that's cold!"
"Yeah, hush."
The brush strokes were light and gentle as she painted his shoulders. They gave him goosebumps and he shivered.
"Jace!"
"What?"
"You can't move!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, you're stroking my chest lightly with something very cold. I can't help shivering."
Clary blushed and switched paint brushes, setting the used one into a cup of water. She dipped the new, smaller paintbrush in a silvery goldish paint. Jace watched her movements closely. She had her hand on his shoulder for balance and was leaning over him. Jace was a bit ashamed to say that the sight alone turned him on, and the fact that she was painting him made him want to moan. She stared at his chest, but Jace didn't think she was really seeing him, rather the finished painting in her head. It amazed him. He watched her carefully and intently.
"Stop staring at me, it's making me uncomfortable."
"How did I end up with you?"
Clary blushed again and moved to sit on his thighs. She was so light, but he definitely felt her slide down him. He held back a moan as she started to paint again. She was lost in her painting now, clearly not noticing his growing arousal. She was beautiful like this, eyes focused, but not on something anyone else could see. Her hair was in a knot at the base of her neck, Jace had to resist the itching in his fingers to pull it out. As much as he wanted her attention on him instead of her painting, he couldn't bring himself to upset her trance.
And then she brushed over his nipple, and he did groan, then he froze. She didn't seem to notice. Jace almost laughed: she was so far gone. Clary switched colours. This paint was an orange mixed with red, the color of her hair. It occurred to Jace that he had no idea what she was painting. She could just be drawing a dick, though he doubted it.
"What are you drawing?"
"Hush."
She put her hand on the couch by his head, leaned forward just a little bit, and he moaned. Like a full on moan. This time, she laughed, "Oh, honey."
Jace blushed, "Leave me alone."
She laughed again and switched to a gold. She kissed his cheek and started painting again. Well, she knew now. This was going to be bad. By the time she finished, Jace was squirming. She was torturing him on purpose now. She had to of been, the little shit. When she finally remove her body from his, he was hungry and had to pee.
"Clary," he whined.
"What do you want now?"
"I can move now, right?"
"Not until the paint drys."
"But, I have to pee, and I want food."
"Well, hold it! I'll bring you food."
Then she was gone. Jace groaned again and his head fell back on the couch. When Clary came back with cheese and crackers, he was asleep. Clary laughed. This was the perfect time to take pictures. She took a few full body ones, ones of just the painting and then a few of his face because of just how cute he was. He relaxed and looked so much younger. Not as young as when he smiled, but more... innocent. She sat on the end of the couch, pulling his feet onto her lap.
She ate some of his crackers and carefully touched the paint to make sure it dried. Jace's eyelashes fluttered adorably. His eyebrows furrowed, then evened out. Clary smile and shook his shoulder.
"Jace." She whispered. He groaned back at her. She laughed.
"Paint's dry." He opened his eyes and stared at her for a few seconds, then went to pee. In the bathroom mirror, he finally saw what she had painted, and he was breathless. It was beautiful.
The painting was of a night scene painted in dark blue, the stars bright. Two figures were painted lying in a luscious sea of green grass. One with fiery red hair splayed out under her, smiling a beautiful smile filled with stunning white teeth. The other was a boy with a mischievous grin and golden hair. Their legs and fingers were tangled so they looked almost like one person lying there in the grass. One with four arms, four legs, and two heads, like in those greek myths. The painting was stunning. And it was on his body. He suddenly found himself wishing it was a tattoo, so he could never wash it off.
He took about seven hundred pictures from all angles on his phone.
When he finally got the courage to walk back into the living room, he pulled her to him and kissed her, hoping to show both his love for the scene and his love for her. He was careful not to smudge the art as they kissed. Clary laughed into his mouth and he kissed her harder before pulling away. He wrapped himself around her and buried his face in her hair. He whispered his appreciation and that he loved her and that he was so lucky to have her. She smiled against his neck.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you so fucking much, Clary, it almost hurts."
She laughed, "You want to take a shower now?"
"No, but I will if you'll come with me."
"Of course," she pulled him back into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She pulled her shirt off and spun around to unbutton his jeans.
fin.