handprints on the ceiling — clearsight

[CLAYFUR]

As per usual, RiverClan can’t seem to catch a break. The river has turned against them, washing its way through their camp and threatening to drag down any cat not careful enough to stay clear of the rising water. No lives have been lost yet, though, so Clayfur only has a mind to think about his collection of soft feathers that’s surely been washed away with the water. It’s been a rough month, what with the tension with WindClan and the whispers that he’s been catching about his own presence—or lack thereof—at the clans’ monthly gatherings. Clay just hoped that with spring will come warmer weather and lower waters.

The few bright spots that remain in Clay’s mind are his family and his favorite warrior. He’s managed to steal Clearsight away from the rest of the clan for a while, citing a need to take a break from the hustle and bustle of the temporary RiverClan camp. It isn’t like they’ll be missed too much, right?

The dirt-colored tom had the good sense to snag a particularly decent-sized fish for the two of them to share, but he’s sort of regretting catching it so early because now it’s a bit dried out from their trek to the edge of the territory. But when the rocky sunbathing spot comes into view just across the river, water lapping a bit higher on the gray stones but for the most part untouched and dry, Clay can’t find it in himself to be disappointed. "I thought this would be a good spot," he says—Clay wouldn’t take Clearsight anywhere less perfect than the blue-furred warrior is. And what better place to have a nice, relaxing meal than here?

The river is a bit choppy, the deeper water a bit strange to glide through, but the two make it to the other side with little trouble. He sucks in a breath when he reaches the rocks, looking up to the sky. It’s been slowly growing more and more gray-looking, clouds rolling in steadily and hanging above the river territory. To be honest, it looks like rain. He just hopes that it holds off long enough for them to hang out a while.

He glances back to Clearsight, shaking a bit of water from his water-slicked pelt. The fish he caught is deposited onto a rock, and a smile tugs at his mouth. "I figured we could eat a nice meal and just hang out for a little bit. By ourselves." White paws tremble just a bit against the barren rocks, claws extending and retracting on repeat. He can’t help his nerves; it isn’t often he spends time with the other tom without the prying eyes of their clanmates around.
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[CLEARSIGHT]

---

➵ Snowy blue paws follow brown, ever chasing after this one man who has just — gotten stuck in his heart. Clearsight wouldn't have it any other way.

"Oh. It's perfect," he says, and really means it. Up above the waves, safe from the flood. He turns toward Clayfur with a smile, purr rumbling in his chest like it's always doing in times like these. The flood and its consequences have been hell. Getting RiverClan's kids out of the collapsed den, watching Cicadastar drown, dragging themselves all to this new camp — hell. But this?

This brief sunlight and this picnic spot and this moment with his mate, this is perfect. This is as good as it gets.

He's got his eye on the clouds, too, golden gaze wary, but something is lighter about him right now. Maybe it's stupid. (Later he will definitely think it was stupid.) He just can't bring himself to worry like he always does. If it rains it'll rain, they'll be alright, can they just have this for now?

I figured we could eat a nice meal and just hang out for a little bit. By ourselves.

Clearsight purrs, already settling in beside Clayfur, tugging the warrior closer, aiming to lick at a wet spot on his shoulder. "You're a dork," he murmurs, "and a romantic. That's saying something, you know, for me to call you a romantic — "

Not that he would have Clayfur any other way.

"It sounds perfect," he finishes. A sly grin, cheeky, even. "Can't believe we both managed to get away. Do you think anyone's noticed yet?"
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& we've all got battle scars ✗ ​

 

[CLAYFUR]

The other tom seems just as happy to be here with Clayfur, content and smiling. It’s nice, really, to get away from it all even for just half a day. And when Clearsight calls it perfect, Clay can’t help but stand a bit taller, proud that he’s at least helping to make the day brighter.

He lets the slate-striped tom tug him closer, hazel eyes slipping shut for a moment. A purr rumbles through his chest, and he leans closer in an attempt to rub the top of his head against Clearsight’s cheek. He chokes on a breath when the warrior calls him a romantic, though, and attempts to turn the ensuing cough into a chuckle.

He tilts his face away, avoiding the other tom’s eyes. He can’t make eye contact right now, not without spilling his feelings out all over the sun-warmed rocks. "Yeah, a romantic." Oh, stars, has Clearsight already guessed what’s been racing through Clay’s mind all day, all month? He braces himself, teases back, "Only for you, though."

As he speaks, a single drop of cold water hits his nose, rolling down the side of his muzzle before soaking into the short fur there. He tips his head back to the clouds once more. There’s no doubt that it’s going to rain, but maybe it will just be a slight shower—a sprinkle, and their picnic will be uninterrupted. "I’m sure we’ll be back before they even realize we’re gone," he says, although a part of him isn’t so sure of it. Hopefully everyone else will be too focused on their injured and ill to wonder where a pair of warriors have stolen away to.
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[CLEARSIGHT]

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➵ Clearsight murmurs a little mrrow of agreement — no patrol assignments today, no reason for clanmates to look, anyway — he hopes his mate is right; he wants this day to be just for the two of them.

He settles in, idly grooming Clayfur's pelt as they chatter and share the fish. Before long the sprinkle has turned into... more than a sprinkle, but Clearsight, wrapped up in the blessing of alone time his mate, barely even notices until Clayfur's pelt is getting wetter faster than he can lick it dry. "Stars," he says, standing up and shaking himself to no avail. "That's not going away anytime soon, is it — "

Thunder rumbles in the distance, seeming to answer the question for him. He can't help but laugh a little — "of course, of all the days — "

Another burst of thunder interrupts him. Maybe they should be seeking shelter. "Er, perhaps we should relocate? Under the rocks, maybe — is there space?"

There is — Clearsight stumbles down the slippery stones with less grace than he'd like to admit, reaching to help keep Clayfur steady only to nearly fall over himself. He can't help the short bark of laughter that he lets out. "StarClan, have I got four left paws — ? Oh, look, there's a spot. Quick."

They get re-settled in under makeshift cover, and Clearsight prays the water won't creep in toward their paws. Once they're back in relative safety he wastes no time wrapping himself right back around Clayfur. "This is our picnic." He says firmly. "No rainstorm is going to ruin it."

Stars, Clayfur is just... the best thing he's ever had. Why had Clearsight fallen for him, anyway? He doesn't remember — he'd been playful at first, loving how he could fluster the poor man so easily, but altogether too quickly finding himself flustered by Clay's presence. Something about that dopey smile — and that kindness — and the way he carried himself, that heavy mantle that he tried to make light of. It's not even artful, the way Clayfur hides his pain — he's clear as streamwater, the blue tabby thinks, to anyone who looks. But no one does look past that smile.

... he's getting distracted now. Clearsight shakes his head, clearing his mind. "I'm really glad we get to have this," he says softly. "Even if it's not really going as planned... you're the best thing in my life, do you know that?" ​

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& we've all got battle scars ✗​

// OK SO i didn't remember exactly how we'd planned to do it i hope this is ok!!!!!!!​

 

[CLAYFUR]

The raindrops keep coming, and even as he continues to groom Clear’s pelt they don’t let up. It quickly becomes obvious, unfortunately, that what once was a hopeful, semi-dry picnic is turning into a rain-soaked catastrophe. There’s even the sound of thunder not too far off, and his heart sinks lower in his chest. Clearsight notices it just as Clay himself does, and gives voice to Clay’s thoughts. Of course, of all the days for a storm to pass over, it’s this day.

"This sucks…" he murmurs dejectedly, head hanging as raindrops begin to pelt his ears and back. He’s not upset exactly, just disappointed. This was supposed to be a good thing for both of them, a perfect opportunity for him to ask the question that’s been burning in the back of his mind for months now! And now it’s all ruined by a storm that he should have seen coming…

Except Clearsight doesn’t seem all that perturbed, doesn’t look like he’s ready to turn tail and run for cover back at camp—if that’s even possible in this weather. He merely suggests that they move to take shelter from the rain under some rocks, and Clayfur reluctantly stands to follow his warrior.

He moves to catch Clearsight when he stumbles (whether to stop his fall or to cushion it, Clay isn’t sure) and does not move backward again when the other tom regains his footing. He can’t find words in the moment, struck dumb by that laugh, that charm. He’s practically got heart eyes, he’s sure—some look that’s soft and fond, offering his feelings for the other up on a silver platter. But he settles alongside the other tabby with a teasing purr of "It’s a good thing you’re cute, then, with how clumsy you are."

The slate-furred warrior makes a good point as he plasters himself against Clay beneath their shelter. "You’re right. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care how rainy it is. It’s still a good picnic." He nuzzles his forehead into the chest of his beloved (a title Clearsight obviously is not aware he holds) and shuts his eyes, content to listen to the rain falling around them, a smooth background for Clear’s voice. There’s a moment of silence, only the thumping of the heart beneath his ear and the beating of the rain, and then the blue tabby speaks again.

He says that Clay is the best thing in his life. That he’s glad they have this chance to be together, even though their picnic is ruined-not-ruined. It feels a bit like love is pouring from his mouth, though maybe that’s just Clayfur’s imagination. He feels greedy, wanting all of Clearsight’s adoration when he already has so much of it, but he wants to be able to greet the other as a mate, as a partner for life. They would never be separated, then. Not if they were mates.

He looks out to the rain, suddenly unable to meet his- warrior’s gaze. He does adore the sight of those bright, sunrise eyes, but sometimes they’re too intense, too knowing. "Clearsight, I need to ask you something really important." And it is important. In fact, it might be the most important question that he’s ever asked anyone. He only hopes that Clearsight will answer gently, with regard for his poor heart. "Would you want to be my mate?"
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[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

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[CLEARSIGHT]

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➵ He thinks for three seconds that Clayfur is joking. But Clay isn't really the type to make jokes like that and he is so serious right now, those hazel eyes so very adoring — so very afraid.

This isn't a joke at all.

Clearsight stares, mouth hanging slightly open — "be your — you want me to be your — "

Mate. His mate. Stars above.

"Clayfur," says Clearsight slowly, weakly. "You don't know — that is, you mean to tell me — I — "

What is he even supposed to say?

"We weren't ... already ... mates?"

He's not sure if this horrifying or hilarious. StarClan, what — what the fuck? How?

"This whole time, everyone has thought — stars, I've thought — I've called you my — "

Stars above. Clearsight has called Clayfur his mate but never in front of him, has he?

And he realizes after a few more moments of stammered confusion that he still hasn't answered. Which he has to fix. Because Clearsight's heart is all and wholly Clay's and Clay needs to know that. "Yes," he says, still shocked, "yes. Absolutely. Of course. I'm yours. I've been yours, and I'll be yours."

He practically lunges forward to wrap Clayfur up in blue tabby fur, pressing in with affection. "Yes," he repeats. "Stars, I thought you were just — taking things slow! I had no idea — oh, great StarClan, you doofus — come here," he says as though Clay isn't already as close as physically possible. "I am going to hold you for the rest of the day and make you understand how much I love you. My Clayfur. My mate."

Regard for Clayfur's poor heart indeed — very highest regard, all the love that he can summon. The heart that Clearsight hopes to keep forever.
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---

& we've all got battle scars ✗ ​

 

[CLAYFUR]

For the few moments he assumes the worst, when Clearsight stutters, stares at him like he’s grown a second head or something. But the whirlpool-pelted tom is quick to remedy his initial reaction, albeit with an even more confusing question. We weren’t already mates?

Clay’s mind goes blank. Completely, utterly blank. He’s fairly certain they hadn’t discussed this before, or he’d have already had Clearsight as his own. But after another pause, the other warrior answers definitively—yes. And it’s the greatest thing he’s ever heard. He has a mate! A mate who adores him, who swears to be his forever.

He wrinkles his nose, eyes wide with surprise as Clearsight amothers him with love, with a meeting of brown and blue fur that he wouldn’t trade for the world. Once they’re settled, pressed as close as they can be, he tilts his head to face his love again. "Wait, you mean everybody except me thought we were already mates?" He drops his head to his warrior’s—no, his mate’s—shoulder, burying his face in lush blue fur. "Oh. I’ve… I’ve been an idiot, then, haven’t I?" How many times had he been confused by Willowroot or some other clanmate’s comments about his and Clearsight’s friendship, their nest sharing?

"I can’t believe I waited this long to ask. I love you so much… you’re everything to me." The rain still pours outside of their shelter, their quiet corner of the world where they can enjoy one another’s presence without the press of responsibilities. "I’m so glad I have you. My mate."

As he presses in against his mate, Clayfur sees a golden future. All his dreams of what his life could be like, filled with love and laughter and a man who loves him at his side. They’ll be together until they’re old and gray and wrinkled. Maybe they’ll even start a family, really put down roots in RiverClan. He can just imagine Clearsight smiling, rolling around, teaching their kits how to run and jump and pounce and play… it’s the best future he could ever dream of. And even if everything doesn’t go as he hopes, than at least he’ll have his beloved by his side through it all.
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[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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