Work Text:
I feel pretty
by Lilithangel
He felt dirty coming back from Wolfram & Hart’s hospital, his hands still not feeling like his own. Returning to his dingy hovel only reminded him again of his stupidity in believing he could be the champion.
He felt every inch the monster he’d called them to Angel in the hospital. The broken slayer’s words hitting him hard and reminding him of all the bad things he’d done. While his hands weren’t his own he couldn’t even continue the fight and keep the regret at bay.
At his worst he’d always been drawn to something different about himself. Something that made him feel special, desirable and pretty. Something Dru had shown him, something she had loved. There was much of their time together that didn’t sit well with the soul even as he accepted that part of what he was, and there were times he wasn’t very proud of, but their special times could never be tainted.
Harmony had fronted up to the hospital with a gaming console and a small digital video recorder with the rejoinder to catch up with the century. This promised something he’d never been able to experience before. He’d seen his own image in photographs before, but one image he had never seen.
Dru had started it a long time ago and he was still drawn to the scent and feel of her favourite things. Silk and velvet so smooth and warm on the skin, as soft as the caress of her hand and the bite of whalebone as sharp as her nails when she gripped him tight. The waxy charcoal taste of her lipstick, red and as thick as blood.
He sat down carefully on the sofa, nervous to look up at the image on the TV set. It had taken longer than normal to tighten the lacings and smooth the silk over his legs, his fingers stumbling and numb.
He had washed his hair free of the constraining gel, letting it fall softly around his face. So when he looked up to apply the lipstick it framed his cheekbones and softened his jaw. He concentrated on his lips, carefully applying a layer and then blotting on a tissue the way Dru had shown him. Then he added a second layer and finally took in the face before him.
Harsh blond hair and cheekbones almost too sharp to be feminine were dominated by blue eyes and scarlet red lips that pouted delightfully at his scrutiny.
Strong masculine arms and shoulders tapered to a black velvet corset, cinched tight enough to lift flat breasts to almost pertness. Biting down gently on the perfectly painted lips he carefully applied a brush of extra colour to the nipples peeping out over the top.
His gaze skipped over his groin least the excitement there betray his true desires, and focussed on red silk stockings that made long feet appear dainty.
After she had cinched the corset tight Dru had loved to run her hands over those silk-clad legs, to suckle those toes and then perch on that lap and kiss the lipstick away.
Curling up on the sofa, one eye watching the screen to admire the grace and lines of the form, he opened a bottle of polish and carefully painted the newly buffed nails his signature black.
Through the years, when the corset and stockings were packed away and the only lipstick worn was that stolen from a kiss, the nail polish had remained to remind him of the creature that was curled up on the sofa, reminding him that he could be pretty.
END