From clydedorkovan head canon: Craig asks if he can paint on Clyde's back and they have a pretty intimate time as Craig paints a starry night sky on his boyfriend's back.
A palm-sized censer burned in the middle of the table. Wisps of scented camphor and sandalwood twisted and swirled in silence, adding a note of tranquility to the already quiet room. The air steadily grew cooler as the sun dipped into the horizon and night hungered to approach. Where the dying rays of warmth touched, red bled into the carpet.
An autumn breeze swept by. Swaying where the wind willed it, the sheer curtains by the window billowed for a moment, and the bodies of two young men entangled together was exposed to the setting sun. As if ashamed to have revealed the carnal affairs of its occupants, the light gossamer curtains quietly, without even a whisper of a sound, settled back to its former place.
The bedside candle flickered, casting a playful shadow against the naked young lovers. The white sheets rustled; the bed creaked. Outside, the lonely cricket sang its' sad, sad song. Ignoring all of the little distractions, Craig traced down the curve of Clyde's spine. His fingers sank into flesh whiter than ivory, but softer than the finest satin. With a firm downward stroke of his brush, Craig dirtied the translucent snow white skin.
A sighing moan broke the silence in the room. Clyde closed his eyes and shivered as the cold, black ink swept across his sensitive back. He wanted to squirm or giggle from the ticklish touch, but Craig's strong hand on his hip kept him still. Downward, right to left, the tips of the brush danced upon his skin, painting a scene he couldn't see with his mind's eye.
When he finished, Craig whispered against the brunet's collarbone, his warm breath a welcomed contrast to the cool night air. "Done."
Clyde turned his head. He gazed into mischievous blue eyes with hooded curiosity. "What did you draw?"
Craig shifted a little closer, his hand leisurely sliding up from Clyde's hip to the side of his ribcage. Heat from the noirette's body seeped into Clyde's back as Craig slowly crawled over him. The raven blew a gust of warm air to dry the paint on Clyde's skin and he almost trembled from the sensation.
"The Starry Night by Van Gogh."
"Why?" Clyde asked. After their round of sex, Craig asked him - quite persistently in fact- if he could paint him. At first, Clyde thought Craig meant paint his portrait. However, the other teen literally meant paint on his body.
Gently, Craig smiled his rare smile. "Because," he explained, bending to kiss Clyde's shoulder, "you are beautiful."
Clyde gave him a speculative look before abruptly sitting up. The sheet pooled around his waist as he bared his naked body to Craig's appreciative eyes. He shoved at the noirette's shoulders, pushing him back onto the mattress.
A temptation he wasn't sure he wanted to resist, Craig raised an eyebrow when Clyde pressed his warm, lush body against him. "The paint isn't dried yet," he quietly admonished with no real conviction to his words.
"That's okay." Wrapping his arms around Craig's neck, Clyde dragged his lips against the other boy's. "You can paint it back on later." The wind blew out the candle and Clyde's husky laughter drifted out from the darkness. "Much later."
A/n: Shhhhh I cheated. This is an old fanfic I wrote for different fandom. I simply tweaked the names around to make it Cryde. No one needs to know that.
