Fragile Things (Drabble Two)
“You’re enjoying this too much,” accused Neal as Emrys stretched across their shared bed. His boyfriend gave him a grin and saluted him.
“What can I say?” said Emrys wickedly, “I love your…ahem…creative process.”
Neal chuckled and went back to his painting. Emrys watched shamelessly as the muscles of his bare back rippled under his tanned skin with each broad stroke. Neal’s mouth upturned ever so slightly as he purposefully walked around for another color, bending over to get it. Emrys let out a choked noise of pleasure. Neal stood, pretending to work a kink from his neck.
Gentle padding of feet echoed lightly across the floor. Neal shuddered as he felt a pair of lips kiss his neck.
“You’re a tease,” whispered Emrys, “A bloody, evil tease.”
“Yes,” agreed Neal as he turned and tugged off Emrys’ t-shirt, “But I’m yours.”
“Yes,” said Emrys stubbornly, “Mine.”
Neal lightly touched Emrys’ lily white skin, studying his newest canvas, as the other man lightly ran his hands over his chest. They both kissed: messy and passionate. Neal carried Emrys to bed, where he painted Emrys’ body in love bites and sweat.
He always loved a blank canvas.