Wicked Writing Wench (perverted_pages) wrote in bloodclaim,
Wicked Writing Wench

Puppy Love 53 - White

Tissues should be brought to use soon if not now, I think y'all are getting where I'm going, but aren't you happy I never said how long it took to get there!!! This way I can write more in the PL universe in the future if the mood strikes!! Excited? Possibly, worried? Yes!

Title: Puppy Love 53/53 - White
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall, this chapter..... R
Warnings: M/m. Buy a box of tissues.
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary: Puppy and Master
Word Count: 166 (as per Word Count)
Beta: purpledodah and laazikaat
Concrit: always welcome in comments, e-mail or MSN, whichever.
X-posted to: -Total list on my LJ-

His eyes were white, milky, clouded. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, never mind his lover’s, but he still remembered the eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. They introduced themselves as father and son now, no choice anymore, they couldn’t pass for the lovers they were. They still held hands and kisseds to each other under cover, never letting on their relationship, but Xander was failing.

His age showed in palsied shakes of his hands, white eyes and crooked back. Even with the pain of his back Xander never stopped his woodwork, Spike entered his workshop and looked over his latest carving, made through fogged eyes and fingers marking out what needs to be removed. Everything was carved out but one block, Spike kissed his white hair “A while yet before that,” he whispered.

“Just want to be prepared.” He got up, finished, and gets to work on his big piece, a casket, all hand-made.

“A while before that too. Can’t you just relax?”

“Spike... during the days have you wondered where I was going? To the doctors, brain lesion, tumour really.”

Spike kissed his head. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “But you got time.”

“I got six weeks.”

Spike held him and cried and cried and cried, his love, his life, oh no.
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