I know!
When do i do this?!
Well, when i'm desperate to post but nothing is *ready* and i've got
ely_jan on IM.
So, these are all hers. *snuggles her*
She asked for 'Spike, alone - jasmine', 'Wes, Lindsey, s5 last hours' and 'Gunn watching Illyria after she got him out of Hell'.
Enjoy!
The air was wet - heavy - a muffling and motionless paw that pressed Spike down and down. He breathed it in, saturating his lungs with it. Mouth a little open to better catch the scent.
Jasmine, rich and thick and sweet. Like cream on the back of his tongue. Like hashish, curling and warm through his chest. Dru's scent. He ached for her. Heart - head... Cock. The scent made it worse. But he took it in, all the same.
*Let's play hide and go seek, Spike! You're it...* Three continents and two months. But he was catching up.
The knock on his door startled him and Wesley looked up from his desk to find Lindsey, leaning hip-shot and faintly smirking on the jamb. Bottle in one hand, joint in the other. Stark terror in blue eyes.
"I would have thought -" Wesley said, and Lindsey shook his head.
"Nah. What'd Spike say - 'Brothers, what we do in life... echoes in eternity.' Shakespeare?"
Wesley straightened up - crossed his office and put his fingers on Lindsey's wrist. "I believe that's from 'Gladiator', actually."
"Works for me," Lindsey breathed.
Lindsey tasted of salt and smelled of rue. "Me, too."
Gunn can't quite get used to not being in Hell, although some people might say he still is. Lawyer, evil law-firm - all that. But it's not Hell, it's just his job. That's what he tells himself, every day.
And every time he sees...it...her - it hurts. Right there where that demon ripped his heart out every day for...what - days? Weeks? Maybe it was years - Gunn has no idea. The only thing that rings true about it anymore is the pain, echoing with every tip and turn of her blue-dusk skull. He'll be glad when it's all over.
When do i do this?!
Well, when i'm desperate to post but nothing is *ready* and i've got
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
So, these are all hers. *snuggles her*
She asked for 'Spike, alone - jasmine', 'Wes, Lindsey, s5 last hours' and 'Gunn watching Illyria after she got him out of Hell'.
Enjoy!
The air was wet - heavy - a muffling and motionless paw that pressed Spike down and down. He breathed it in, saturating his lungs with it. Mouth a little open to better catch the scent.
Jasmine, rich and thick and sweet. Like cream on the back of his tongue. Like hashish, curling and warm through his chest. Dru's scent. He ached for her. Heart - head... Cock. The scent made it worse. But he took it in, all the same.
*Let's play hide and go seek, Spike! You're it...* Three continents and two months. But he was catching up.
The knock on his door startled him and Wesley looked up from his desk to find Lindsey, leaning hip-shot and faintly smirking on the jamb. Bottle in one hand, joint in the other. Stark terror in blue eyes.
"I would have thought -" Wesley said, and Lindsey shook his head.
"Nah. What'd Spike say - 'Brothers, what we do in life... echoes in eternity.' Shakespeare?"
Wesley straightened up - crossed his office and put his fingers on Lindsey's wrist. "I believe that's from 'Gladiator', actually."
"Works for me," Lindsey breathed.
Lindsey tasted of salt and smelled of rue. "Me, too."
Gunn can't quite get used to not being in Hell, although some people might say he still is. Lawyer, evil law-firm - all that. But it's not Hell, it's just his job. That's what he tells himself, every day.
And every time he sees...it...her - it hurts. Right there where that demon ripped his heart out every day for...what - days? Weeks? Maybe it was years - Gunn has no idea. The only thing that rings true about it anymore is the pain, echoing with every tip and turn of her blue-dusk skull. He'll be glad when it's all over.
Tags:
no subject
You seem right at home - these are so clearly yours, beautiful and high-quality. They've got the same sensuality, the unusual and evocative phrases (leaning hip-shot and faintly smirking, blue-dusk), and the same dense but clean flow, that all characterize your longer work.
And a lovely structure to each. The final phrases are perfect.
Wow. Thanks for sharing!
no subject
:)
And thank you so much! I'm glad you liked them.