getting shirty (S/X drabble)
Oct. 28th, 2008 11:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
electricalgwenInspired by the prompt "orange" at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
open_on_sunday.
Xander eventually located the parakeet-bedecked shirt draped over the back of a chair. Thank god Spike had left it alone. It was his favorite; he’d have hated to see it shrunk to doll-size.
He threw it on and realized: Spike hadn’t washed it, but he had worn it.
It smelled like cheap liquor and stolen tobacco, like the salt of tears and the metal of blood. It smelled like the forbidden.
Xander doesn’t wear the shirt anymore. He tried, once, and spent all day with an inappropriate hard-on.
Maybe he could wear it if he washed it. But he doesn’t.
open_on_sunday.Xander eventually located the parakeet-bedecked shirt draped over the back of a chair. Thank god Spike had left it alone. It was his favorite; he’d have hated to see it shrunk to doll-size.
He threw it on and realized: Spike hadn’t washed it, but he had worn it.
It smelled like cheap liquor and stolen tobacco, like the salt of tears and the metal of blood. It smelled like the forbidden.
Xander doesn’t wear the shirt anymore. He tried, once, and spent all day with an inappropriate hard-on.
Maybe he could wear it if he washed it. But he doesn’t.