The Perfect Canvas

How did he end up like this again? Was it simply the fact he could never say no? or the fact that he just enjoyed the attention too much?

Maybe it was both. Tamaki could do anything to him if he wanted, and he would never protest, to hard.

A cold shiver made him come back to reality. The blond was starting.

Hovering just above his chest, Tamaki smiled at him mixing something in his hand. They had done this so many times, the object being mixed just made Kyouya shiver with delight.

Flat on the bed with nothing but his pants and glasses, Kyouya laid his arms out to the sides to give Tamaki more room to do as he pleased.

Tamaki was never one for fetishes, but once he started taking a painting class, he found he had developed one.

Dipping the paint brush back into the small can of paint in his hand; Tamaki began making light soft, yet long strokes along Kyouya's pelvis.

Kyouya shivered again, it felt good, he could never deny it didn't, and Tamaki knew it, thou he never voiced it.

The upper wall to the side of the bed Kyouya laid on was covered with master pieces Tamaki had painted. The blond had talent that was sure; not one painting lacked any beauty to it. There was one with brightly colored fish swimming in bright blue water, and another of a picture of the front comps of Ouran. As well as many more, but not enough to cover the whole wall…at least not yet. Tamaki had only been painting for a mouth and began his work only two weeks ago.

The brush had felt amazing, as well as the wet paint. It wasn't harmful paint, for Kyouya made sure they had such a safe kind of paint that if Tamaki was to lick it by mistake, the worse that would happen is he would want to get the taste out of his mouth. Not that he expected the blond to ever lick it, but at least he knew it would do no harm to him no matter where Tamaki decided to paint.

Tamaki loved painting, about as much as he loved playing the piano. And with his art work, he always wanted the perfect canvas.

Watching how his love would shiver ever so slightly with each new stroke just sent a pleasurable chill down his spine.

Kyouya's eyes were half lidded as he melted to the feel of the brush as if it was one with him.

Tamaki was now cleaning the brush and dipped it into another color, white, and ever so lightly he ran the tip over a nipple making Kyouya all but gasp.

'Tease' some where in the back of his mind Kyouya always thought the same thing in Tamaki's paintings.

Before moving to the next one, Tamaki gently blew on it sending a unwanted moan from the raven hairs mouth.

Once done with both he once again cleaned and dipped a new color, blue, and made a wavy line down the center of Kyouya's belly and stopped at his naval, were he gently dipped it into it and rubbed making Kyouya want to wither; but he forced himself still, as to not disturb the art work.

Tamaki gave an inward laugh as he swirled the tip around and began to re-dip.

Sun shone bright though the window right above Kyouya, giving Tamaki more than enough light, even in this time of day, when the sun was slowly making its way down.

The room was empty other then the bed covered in only one thin white sheet, that sat in the middle of the room right below a large window, which was the only window in the room; and light wooden floors.

Kyouya closed his eyes as the feeling become too much, but he welcomed it; a smile on his face, one that never left while Tamaki worked.

For what seemed like hours, Kyouya no longer felt the brush upon him and opened his eyes to meet bright purple ones staring back.

Tamaki, with a smile Kyouya thought was permanent leaned down and kissed him passionately.

Without a word, Tamaki reached under the bed and pulled out a large sheet of art paper, it was the same size as the perfect canvas.

Kyouya took a deep breath, he knew what was coming.

Tamaki carefully and gently placed the paper over the painting on Kyouya and very gently dabbed it down.

Kyouya held his breath; the slightest wrong move could ruin all of Tamaki's hard work.

After a few more careful dabs, Tamaki lifted the paper reviling an exact copy of the art work he had painted.

Kyouya gazed at it in awe. He expected no less from the talented French boy.

In the painting, there were two snow tip mountains, and a river flowing from it, thin at first, but then thick as it became bigger and upfront; and a green grass meadow all around, with small little bushes in the background. And a sunset placed perfectly in-between the mountains.

"Do you like it Kyouya?" he asked with a bright over joyed smile.

Kyouya sat up, now no longer worried about the painting on his chest and stomach. He slightly fixed his glasses. "It's beautiful, Tamaki." he breathed.

Tamaki practically leaped for joy and walked to the side of the wall with all the other paintings, and placed it in the perfect line with the others, being sure to tack it down firmly.

Kyouya smiled and reached under the bed for a cloth; one that he always used to clean the paint off with, making sure to wash it every day of course. Once the paint was removed Tamaki was on top of him kissing him again and pinning him back down.

If there was one thing Kyouya loved more then being Tamaki's lover, it was being his…

prefect canvas.

A/N: so this idea came to me in the funniest way. I was watching OHSHC when it cut to a commercial of 'I don't re-call the name' but it was about some medicine to help your stomach, and the guy talking about it, is painting pictures on his belly. XD

Yeah, my mind is odd. :P