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Hey look! I wrote some drabbles!
Actually, I'm afraid they might completely suck because it's been soooooooo long since I've written anything. And I know they're just drabbles, but some helpful feedback might help jumpstart my Spander-starved brain.
Different titles, different ratings, same pairing (S/X), and the characters aren't mine so don't sue:
Under the florescent lights of the warehouse, his skin glowed white. So white that it looked like chalk, but Xander knew better. He knew the texture of that skin: smooth as lightening-blazed glass and nearly as hard. Over a century had hardened it into a shell, a shell that Xander tried to crack every day. Inside that shell of porcelain, the beast held the man captive. And Xander was trying so hard to reach the man…
“Spike?” His voice trembled.
“S’matter, Xander?” A voice as cold as the shell.
“I’m afraid,” he admitted.
“You should be, love.” Spike said distantly.
The tip tap, tip tap of the rain was falling against the window like a thousand stiletto footsteps. Above them, a fan swishing and whooshing reminded them of the tide at home. Beneath them, wood squeaking and scraping.
The hazy blue light of the storm fell upon them, casting a blue white glow upon the bodies that moved against each other, with each other. Glistening white flesh against ever-darkening bronze. Swelling and falling with the continuing tempest, the two moved like a storm themselves. Gentle and fierce in the same movements, tender and harsh.
Outside, the rain reached its climax.
The rank dampness assaulted his every sense, washing him back a few steps.
“Oh, God, Spike!” Xander shrieked. “What the hell died in here?”
Spike only rolled his eyes and gestured to the several stone coffins that flanked either side of the crypt. Going to the one closest to him, he pushed away the lid and reached inside. He pulled out a small package of clothe.
“What is it?” Xander asked, trying to get a better view.
Spike it and brought it to him. A silver wring with a cobalt stone, glowing in the torchlight.
“For you, love.” He answered.
Actually, I'm afraid they might completely suck because it's been soooooooo long since I've written anything. And I know they're just drabbles, but some helpful feedback might help jumpstart my Spander-starved brain.
Different titles, different ratings, same pairing (S/X), and the characters aren't mine so don't sue:
Under the florescent lights of the warehouse, his skin glowed white. So white that it looked like chalk, but Xander knew better. He knew the texture of that skin: smooth as lightening-blazed glass and nearly as hard. Over a century had hardened it into a shell, a shell that Xander tried to crack every day. Inside that shell of porcelain, the beast held the man captive. And Xander was trying so hard to reach the man…
“Spike?” His voice trembled.
“S’matter, Xander?” A voice as cold as the shell.
“I’m afraid,” he admitted.
“You should be, love.” Spike said distantly.
The tip tap, tip tap of the rain was falling against the window like a thousand stiletto footsteps. Above them, a fan swishing and whooshing reminded them of the tide at home. Beneath them, wood squeaking and scraping.
The hazy blue light of the storm fell upon them, casting a blue white glow upon the bodies that moved against each other, with each other. Glistening white flesh against ever-darkening bronze. Swelling and falling with the continuing tempest, the two moved like a storm themselves. Gentle and fierce in the same movements, tender and harsh.
Outside, the rain reached its climax.
The rank dampness assaulted his every sense, washing him back a few steps.
“Oh, God, Spike!” Xander shrieked. “What the hell died in here?”
Spike only rolled his eyes and gestured to the several stone coffins that flanked either side of the crypt. Going to the one closest to him, he pushed away the lid and reached inside. He pulled out a small package of clothe.
“What is it?” Xander asked, trying to get a better view.
Spike it and brought it to him. A silver wring with a cobalt stone, glowing in the torchlight.
“For you, love.” He answered.
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From:
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*snogs and hugs again*
Favorite one though? The last one. That's SO Xander and Spike. *snickers*
~Nebula
From:
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Thank you, hon!
*snogs*
From:
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Love the first one. *shivers*
From:
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*snogs*