I do not own anything, this includes Xander, Edward, BTVS, Twilight and/or any other series/fandoms that may or may not pop up in these drabbles. They belong to their respective owners and/or creators. I'm just playing with them, so by all means enjoy my skrewed up imagination.
The Rouge was a small, dingy, low pay motel somewhere on the back roads between Cape Breton highlands national park in nova Scotia and New York city. Xander had needed some sleep and Edward had wanted to watch.
The road trip was going well so far, and Edward had to admit that despite his misgivings, he was actually having a really good time. of course that could have something to do with the fact he was spending lots of uninterrupted private time with her beloved mate. It was nice not having to tip toe around his family just so they could have a little privacy.
Edward watched as Xander Shifted in his sleep, his beautiful, handsome mate curling into Edwards side in sleep, nuzzling his face against Edwards chest. Neither could Edward help the smile as Xander snuffled softly, scenting him in sleep to assure himself that his mate was ok.
Usually, the sound of breathing had annoyed Edward, his sensitive hearing always confronted with the god awful rasping of lungs as they processed air. Yet for some reason, a reason Edward suspected was wholly selfish on his part, Xander’s breathing was reassuring, and even endearing. For instance, Edward was able to tell certain things about Xander’s state of mind and body by the sound of his breathing.
There was the breathy moan Xander sometimes did when Edward rubbed him down from head to toe, a pastime Edward loved dearly with all his un-beating heart. Xander would lie pliant under his hands, so trusting as he worked Xander’s muscles and body into a state of total relaxation, and usually more often than not, a burning arousal. This led to even more variety in his breathing.
There was the almost silent huff of annoyance that puffed out with every lung when Xander got riled up, usually when Edward referred to himself as a monster in some way. It was a sound that said Xander was about to show him that he wasn’t a monster after all. That one usually led to his next favourite.
This one was harsh panting, deep lungful of air being pulled in and forced out, varying in pitch and speed, that some times caught and hitched, momentarily stuck, or followed a long drawn out moan. It was a sound Edward loved to hear, because it usually meant he had Xander in his bed, both of them aroused and wanton, partaking of activities that where not just amorous and passionate, but also full of love and trust.
His all time favourite sound was the tiny, hitching breath that caught in Xander’s chest every time Edward caught Xander looking at him. It was almost always accompanied by a blush, and some times it came with a soft “I love you.” that made Edward feel as if he was the luckiest man on the planet. It was a sound that Edward associated with his delightful, wicked mate. It was a sound that sometime’s made his heart feel as if it could beat again.
Stroking a hand through Xander’s soft sable hair, Edward idly considered if he could get away with creating a symphony created wholly of Xander’s noises. Then his mind turned to ways he could…appropriate said noises. That sounded promising.