Flashfic? Baby ficlet? What do you call things this length?
As of right now I'm completely stumped for an idea for this week's open_on_sunday challenge (It's too broad! I'm not that good at coming up with ideas!), so I'll instead post this little minific I came up with over the weekend.
Title: Cool/Warm
Length: 225 words
Summary: A darker take on post-Shanshu B/A.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
An outsider looking in might mistake them for a couple in love. They lie side by side gazing into each other's eyes in a bed that's half cool, half warm. He thinks this is an accurate reflection on the entire history of their relationship. She thinks this is everything she's ever wanted.
She's deluding herself, of course.
She runs her hand over his throat, his pulse, his reward. He then feels her face pressed against it, and soon her teeth sliding over the skin. This always makes him think of the moment he failed to save her, the moment she gave up fighting - the moment that has led them to repeat this moment each and every night for months, years now.
The teeth penetrate the skin and he relaxes. He knows someday she'll take it all, make him hers forever, but for now she likes him as he is. She takes barely a teaspoon each time and makes it last, nice and slow. Her hands roam everywhere else, chilling and thrilling him, letting him forget that this is supposed to hurt.
When she's done, she gives him a long, deep kiss, forcing him to taste himself and know what their future holds. He licks his lips when it's over. It tastes like a thousand cherished memories.
Only now is it his turn to touch.
Title: Cool/Warm
Length: 225 words
Summary: A darker take on post-Shanshu B/A.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
An outsider looking in might mistake them for a couple in love. They lie side by side gazing into each other's eyes in a bed that's half cool, half warm. He thinks this is an accurate reflection on the entire history of their relationship. She thinks this is everything she's ever wanted.
She's deluding herself, of course.
She runs her hand over his throat, his pulse, his reward. He then feels her face pressed against it, and soon her teeth sliding over the skin. This always makes him think of the moment he failed to save her, the moment she gave up fighting - the moment that has led them to repeat this moment each and every night for months, years now.
The teeth penetrate the skin and he relaxes. He knows someday she'll take it all, make him hers forever, but for now she likes him as he is. She takes barely a teaspoon each time and makes it last, nice and slow. Her hands roam everywhere else, chilling and thrilling him, letting him forget that this is supposed to hurt.
When she's done, she gives him a long, deep kiss, forcing him to taste himself and know what their future holds. He licks his lips when it's over. It tastes like a thousand cherished memories.
Only now is it his turn to touch.