Now and Then
Title: Now and Then
Author: maryfic
Rating: R
Character(s): Spike
Warnings: Hints of slash.
Prompt: #004 - Emotion
Word Count: 191
With Angelus, it was hard words and hot sweat, roughness edged with a silkiness that could not be denied in the heat of passion, the darkness that they lived in.
Drusilla was different. She was all dark prayers to strange goddesses, worshiping at a pale temple, and hoping with everything you had that tonight was not the night your sacrifice was rejected. Protection, princess, devotion, desire.
Cecily, gods below, Cecily. If he had made one mistake in his human existence, it was placing her on the altar of his worship, turning her from something mortal and flawed to the perfect Pygmalion, that only served to cut his heart out when she cracked out of the marble vision.
And the Slayer. Mistake, perhaps, but there was truth in what he felt. Angry, fighting, straining, yearning to get inside of her, to that core no one ever touched. No one could touch it, but him. Always him. He gave her everything she needed and asking only the smallest thing in return. But even that, she could not give.
But that was okay. He had always been the one being used. Now and then.
Author: maryfic
Rating: R
Character(s): Spike
Warnings: Hints of slash.
Prompt: #004 - Emotion
Word Count: 191
With Angelus, it was hard words and hot sweat, roughness edged with a silkiness that could not be denied in the heat of passion, the darkness that they lived in.
Drusilla was different. She was all dark prayers to strange goddesses, worshiping at a pale temple, and hoping with everything you had that tonight was not the night your sacrifice was rejected. Protection, princess, devotion, desire.
Cecily, gods below, Cecily. If he had made one mistake in his human existence, it was placing her on the altar of his worship, turning her from something mortal and flawed to the perfect Pygmalion, that only served to cut his heart out when she cracked out of the marble vision.
And the Slayer. Mistake, perhaps, but there was truth in what he felt. Angry, fighting, straining, yearning to get inside of her, to that core no one ever touched. No one could touch it, but him. Always him. He gave her everything she needed and asking only the smallest thing in return. But even that, she could not give.
But that was okay. He had always been the one being used. Now and then.