ZXANTHE SENT ME A THING:

ajkflsd;a this is garbage complete garbage but spirit/wes is just so incredibly hilarious so have my attempt at writing purple prose yaois (i’m pretty sure it counts as sfw seeing as they just kiss haha)

The moon is bright and full that night, a succulent sphere enveloped in the warm folds of the night sky. Wes sighs and closes his eyes soulfully, the bud of loneliness deep inside his heart slowly blossoming into a heavy, exquisite ache. A single tear slips from beneath his long lashes, bright as crystal in the moon’s wanton light. Oh, he thinks, if only-

There comes a knock on the door.

Wes jumps, his eyes flying open to reveal wide, glittering irises redder than the reddest rose. One long-fingered hand appears in front of lush, pink lips as he gasps, quick and sharp. He glances at the clock. It’s midnight. Wes gets to his feet in a sweep of luxurious silken bathrobe. Who could it be at this hour? His straight, white teeth worry pensively at his lower lip. In three quick strides, he crosses from the window to the door. His hand lingers on the coolness of the knob for an apprehensive heartbeat. What if it’s an intruder? But…no. Somehow, Wes knows that whoever is on the other side of the door means no harm. He takes a deep breath, and then pulls it open with a flourish.

“Good evening,” says a low voice.

Wes’s eyes go wide.

There, on the doorway, is none other than Spirit Albarn. He can’t see his face because the hallway is coated in rich, impenetrable shadow, but he would know the set of those shoulders anywhere. The sight of his…acquaintance sends Wes into a state of mind not unlike that you’d achieve upon finding yourself on the receiving end of a punch to the abdominals, or perhaps being pushed off of a very high place. Naked, undisguised shock, followed by the sensation of falling and then (oh, and then) breathless, incredulous delight. Wes realizes he’s gaping and shuts his mouth with a smart click. “Good evening,” he breathes. “Why don’t you come in?”

Wes moves aside and Spirit enters, tall and lithe and solemn, the fluidity of his steps somehow reminiscent of a hunting cat. Wes licks his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming home for another month?”

“Is that a problem?” Spirit asks, smirking, his long, adept fingers loosening his tie.

Wes swallows. “N-no,” he says huskily. In the moonlight, Spirit’s chiseled features are somehow rendered even more breathtaking than they are in the sun’s golden, all-encompassing radiance. That long, perfect nose, that sculpted jaw with just the right amount of stubble, his silky, luscious red hair, his perfect round eyes as verdant as grass, as emeralds…Wes has missed him so, so much. He watches hungrily as Spirit slides the tie sensually from around his neck and sets to work unbuttoning his dress shirt. Wes glimpses the strong lines of his collarbone first, then, excruciatingly slowly, his defined pectorals, and then his well-muscled torso. Faster, he wants to whimper, but what comes out is “Spirit-kun,” the name uttered in a timbre somewhere between a whisper and a moan.

At that, Spirit’s eyes slowly and sensually lift to meet Wes’s directly. Wes swallows, his throat bobbing. Spirit smirks. “Oh, Wes-chan,” he says, and in one delicious roll of his chiseled shoulders, his shirt is gone. “Now it’s your turn.”

With fumbling fingers, Wes unties the knot at his waist. With a soft whisper of silk on skin, the bathrobe slides off. Spirit’s eyes widen a fraction, Wes notes smugly, at the sight of his naked body.

Spirit looks at his lover, silhouetted by the moonlight, tall and beautiful, with skin like caramel and sweet, wiry muscles, and for a few breathless seconds is struck dumb by the elegant artistry of his frame. As if in a trance, he walks forward and puts his hands on Wes’s cool shoulders. Wes smirks down at him, his hands leaving trails of fire as they brush their way down to the belt buckle beneath his belly button. Spirit shivers as Wes first removes the belt, then begin work on the button on his pants. They are so close together, so wonderfully, impossibly close, and Spirit can’t take it anymore. He reaches up and cups Wes’s face between his palms, and tenderly, sweetly, pulls him in for a long, delicious kiss.

Wes smiles, or tries to, but Spirit just hums wordlessly and nips his lip, his tongue slipping between Wes’s teeth. Inwardly, Wes sighs in radiant contentment, one hand running through Spirit’s silky tresses and the other resuming work on his pants.

Perhaps tonight won’t be so lonely after all.