Title: Life’s Lyrics
Fandom: Unspecified
Pairing: Any couple where one has heightened senses (though I was channeling Spike)
Prompt: 141 - Cadence
Warnings: Antihistamines fuck with my head.
Rating: R
Word Count: 500
Summary: Listen for the cadence.
Is it in your visage: The late-night stubble, just enough to shade your cheek and throat, make your innocently young face momentarily mature in the shadows of the moon; the smooth stretch of arms, reaching for me, bunching to pull me close; the sun-kissed skin, nearly radiant from a day outside, yet soft and inviting at the joints, elbows, knees, thigh and hip a pretty pale my polish-dark nails mark as mine, soft scratches drawing blood up high; for the flush of life drives me, pulls me close and binds me with hypnotic promise?
Is it in your scent: The tantalizing tease of woods surrounding you, oak and maple and cedar, intoxicating in the distant threat, a thread of danger tingling in my nose; the faint hints of magic, sulfur and herbs entwined with an earthy, sandalwood incense, a man made for protection and stability; the underlying dampness of blood, heavy with iron and sangria, innocently intoxicating; for the heady breath of life pulses from you, pours from your skin with spider silk webbing to trap me, draw me always closer?
Is it in your taste: The clean, mild taste of dry skin as I lick your fingers, cleansing the palate; the tingling blast of salt hitting the sides of my tongue, drowning my mouth in saliva, desperate to take in more, to find the deepest, purest flavor of your body; the heavy musk clinging to the back of my throat and dripping down to be held within me; the tang that runs through the tip of my tongue every time it teases back and forth over a major artery throbbing with blood; for I am tantalized by the mere memory of that hot splash upon my lips, crave your blood, your body, the very brush of your soul?
Is it in your touch: The gentle pull of work-rough hands dragging across my skin, warmth spilling from your sticky-dry lips to flow over my cheek, my throat, my chest; the soft give in muscles made strong from long hours lifting and swinging hammer and axe, equally graceful in your grasp, completely within your control; the sweat beading and dripping from your flesh to splash upon mine, dampen my body, mark my own scent down to the soul; for I have never felt this heat, this pressure, this exquisite, crumbling explosion beneath your hold?
Is it in your sound: The rasping gasps of breath breaking the silence of a world stopped, paused on the edge of epiphany and oblivion as you succumb to inevitability; the tiny little chuckle, all involuntary and lacking in malice or sadism, announcing your joy to all those with ears to hear; the grumbling mutterings, dark and soothing, as you twitch and shift, settle comfortably beside me, over me, anywhere with me that presses you close, sets my ear near your chest, your throat; for I can listen to nothing without hearing your heart, steadily beating, sure and strong, to assure me that you are here now?
~JJ~
x-posted
tamingthemuse