Finger Painting (PG13)
Title Finger Painting
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating PG13 Sexiness, but all allusion and no action
Words 450
Prompt protective runes
Setting post-series
A/N Can be read as a standalone, or another in the ficlet series I've been writing here: essential Apocalypse prep.
She freshens the brush with some more blessed gall ink. Spike shifts a little, too long settled in one spot. He contemplates his arms, already inked up and resting under his head. "Well, this is going to look just incredibly flattering."
"Shh… You move when you talk." Her palms are smoothing along his lower back, flattening him out as her canvas. Fingers almost absently straying into places where nice girls don't tread.
But then, this isn't pleasure, this is serious business, and Spike would do well to remember that.
"Sure you're getting them spot on, love? I don't fancy being Apocalypse bait any time soon. And I wouldn't say art was top of your list of talen- Ow!"
Fingers stray a little further, jab a little deeper, and yeah, that wasn't the most strategic moment to start teasing Buffy. (Not that he can't take quite a lot in that line when she's in the mood and he's nicely prepped, but neither of those applies right now.)
"Keep still! You moving is way more likely to be a problem than my very accurate copying. Anyway, these runes aren't so tough to draw. It's all repeating patterns. Kinda dull…"
He can hear the grin in her voice, as she leans right down to her work, face a couple of inches from his already-daubed arse. Yeah. Extremely dull. And, oh no, the dreadful reciprocal duty looms in his future.
Protection runes for the arms, legs, back and chest, buttocks and abdomen. She's been working on him for almost an hour, and she's nearly done. Then it'll be his turn, and he'll have to work on her for at least as long.
Only shame is, once started on a body, you mustn't stop till the runes are complete or the spell collapses. Which would be unfortunate (see above: Apocalypse bait). So he has about another few minutes before she's done with him, to convince her to take a quickie break. Or else he'll be driving himself crazy painting her gorgeous nakedness, minute upon minute, unable to stop, brush running across the curve of her spine, the strength of her thigh, the fall of her breast…
Quickie break rapidly becoming essential to his sanity, he's grateful to notice that her hands have softened again. In fact, he'd call what she's doing with her left hand a deliberate caress, though her right continues its dutiful work unperturbed. If he could see her face, he guesses, there would be a small smile, a flush to her cheeks, and an occasional unnecessary moistening of her lips. All the signs of good times a-coming, and all without a word from him.
One of the many, many things he loves about his Slayer? Compatibility.
*
Author Brutti ma buoni
Rating PG13 Sexiness, but all allusion and no action
Words 450
Prompt protective runes
Setting post-series
A/N Can be read as a standalone, or another in the ficlet series I've been writing here: essential Apocalypse prep.
She freshens the brush with some more blessed gall ink. Spike shifts a little, too long settled in one spot. He contemplates his arms, already inked up and resting under his head. "Well, this is going to look just incredibly flattering."
"Shh… You move when you talk." Her palms are smoothing along his lower back, flattening him out as her canvas. Fingers almost absently straying into places where nice girls don't tread.
But then, this isn't pleasure, this is serious business, and Spike would do well to remember that.
"Sure you're getting them spot on, love? I don't fancy being Apocalypse bait any time soon. And I wouldn't say art was top of your list of talen- Ow!"
Fingers stray a little further, jab a little deeper, and yeah, that wasn't the most strategic moment to start teasing Buffy. (Not that he can't take quite a lot in that line when she's in the mood and he's nicely prepped, but neither of those applies right now.)
"Keep still! You moving is way more likely to be a problem than my very accurate copying. Anyway, these runes aren't so tough to draw. It's all repeating patterns. Kinda dull…"
He can hear the grin in her voice, as she leans right down to her work, face a couple of inches from his already-daubed arse. Yeah. Extremely dull. And, oh no, the dreadful reciprocal duty looms in his future.
Protection runes for the arms, legs, back and chest, buttocks and abdomen. She's been working on him for almost an hour, and she's nearly done. Then it'll be his turn, and he'll have to work on her for at least as long.
Only shame is, once started on a body, you mustn't stop till the runes are complete or the spell collapses. Which would be unfortunate (see above: Apocalypse bait). So he has about another few minutes before she's done with him, to convince her to take a quickie break. Or else he'll be driving himself crazy painting her gorgeous nakedness, minute upon minute, unable to stop, brush running across the curve of her spine, the strength of her thigh, the fall of her breast…
Quickie break rapidly becoming essential to his sanity, he's grateful to notice that her hands have softened again. In fact, he'd call what she's doing with her left hand a deliberate caress, though her right continues its dutiful work unperturbed. If he could see her face, he guesses, there would be a small smile, a flush to her cheeks, and an occasional unnecessary moistening of her lips. All the signs of good times a-coming, and all without a word from him.
One of the many, many things he loves about his Slayer? Compatibility.
*