Unless it was summer, South Park at night was frigid. The baying wind did not howl- not yet, biding its time for winter- but its nip still left people chilled to the bone.
But Clyde was unaffected. Not when he was melting, losing himself to Craig's touch. He was burning, dying from the heat. Every patch of skin Craig licked, every slide of the noirette's skin on his body, Clyde felt the flames scorch him from the inside out.
Lazy kisses worked their way up Clyde's torso. His waist, his chest, his neck dripped with sweat, but Craig lapped them away from his skin with a soft, silky tongue. Clyde felt himself be branded with each and every kiss on his body- claim, a declaration he belonged to Craig- but Clyde was too lost in pleasurable sensations to return the favor in marring Craig's body with marks of his own.
Unhurried and lethargic, Clyde ran his fingers through dark, wet, matted hair; a silent encouragement for more. Wordlessly, Craig finally settled against him and that friction- fucking hell that friction-grounding against him had him gasping with unbelievable pleasure. The sigh of desire as Craig sank into him was as soft as Craig's hot breath against his collarbone. Locks of hair stuck to Clyde's face as he felt the noirette press against him, into him, filling him until he felt he was going to break.
Craig, his voice roughened with arousal, murmured against his neck, but Clyde couldn't understand a word, not a fucking word because everything had become white noise. Everything had faded into the background except where skin touched skin.
Clyde's limbs, sluggish and heavy, held on loosely to the shoulders and nape of the body rocking above him. It was torture, almost cruel, how slow and tender Craig paced himself. Sweat dripped onto Clyde's face as Craig lingered to savor his reaction, turning him into nothing more than a writhing mess made of flesh and lust.
Barely, Clyde could feel Craig's pants cool his hot skin; could almost hear the other teen's breath become hitched and erratic. But he was gone. Craig had stolen everything, leaving only behind a husk of a boy that lived and died for nights like this.
A kiss sealed away the moan torn from Clyde's lips as he came. Craig's lips were so breathtakingly sweet, Clyde could only tremble and bask in the aftermath.
Winter wouldn't be so bad if Craig kept sneaking in here to share his body heat like this.
A/n: I haven't written fanfic close to 3 years now, so I'm really rusty. I've been practicing again by RP'ing some Cryde, but I finally found out that roleplaying and writing fanfiction is not the same thing lol. Not even talking about writing, I haven't touched smut in a long, long time so I'm slowly working my way up to write one for Cryde. Above is an implicit version of smut I tend to write when I'm not up for explicit. I cheated a bit by taking inspiration from my old fics to help the process along.
Next up is what it's like if I write explicit.
