Dread of Morning
co-written with Wesleysgirl
"Shut up," Xander snarled, and shoved his cock into Spike again, watching the
way the vampire's hands twisted and clawed at the sheets beneath him. The tight,
slick clench around his dick would have been enough, under other
circumstances, normal circumstances, to make his eyes roll back in his head.
But these weren't normal circumstances -- Xander was pissed off. Spike should
have known better.
"You think I wouldn't see the way you were looking at her?" Xander grabbed
onto one of Spike's desperate, curled hands and pinned it to the mattress,
thrusting harder. He was pretty sure that, if there was such a thing as cheap cotton
sheet burn, Spike was going to have it by the time Xander was through with him. "Do
you really think I'm that
stupid?" He emphasized the word with another
brutal thrust that ended with a twist of his hips that made Spike whimper, and
God did he like that sound.
Another vicious thrust and Spike didn't try to stop the second, third, or forth
whimper that escaped him. Not when it got him pounded so hard he could see the
sun through closed eyes.
"Not stupid," he croaked, throat raw from hollering. Xander's hands moved
again, hard and hot against his hip and the back of his neck, pinning him down against
the bed. It hurt. It burned, every part of him on fire. "Don't know wha -- " he
broke off with a cry as he was impaled so hard something was probably tearing inside
him. Good. "What you're talking about."
Great, Xander thought, now he's
lying on top of everything else? He
dug his fingers into Spike's flesh even harder, knowing that he couldn't leave bruises
that would last longer than half an hour or so. That pissed him off too. "Don't
lie to me," he hissed in disgust, letting go of Spike's neck so he could grab onto his
balls instead, giving a cruel twist. "Don't you
ever fucking lie to me, or this is
over. You hear me?"
Spike whimpered again, the sound even more pitiful this time, his body
frozen underneath Xander's. At least he'd learned that much -- not to fight back. "Yeah," he gasped, the word barely above a whisper.
Spike whimpered as his agreement was met with a tight squeeze of his
balls. Xander controlled him totally, now, holding him as still as a body
getting pounded could hold still. Spike wanted to rage -- don't know
what you're talkin' about, I bloody don't! -- but the rest of him
was too busy getting the fucking of his unlife. Xander possessed him,
body and mind. Whatever Xander wanted, Spike would give him.
"Fucking stupid," Xander snarled above him.
He was, too, so stupid to have angered Xander this much. "Yeah," he said
again, quivering as he tried to obey. Tried to figure out what 'obeying' might mean.
Xander could feel Spike trembling and backed off, but only enough to change
the angle at which he was forcing his dick into Spike's ass. It was enough to change
the tone of Spike's little sounds, too, enough to make it clear that despite
everything, Spike was getting off on this.
A rush of emotion swept through Xander, hot and confusing, and he closed his
eyes. His breath hitched in his chest as he thrust again and again, rough and careless.
"Never do that again," he growled, driving his body forward
one more time and then sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of Spike's
shoulder as he started to come, wet hot pulses that were more about anger
than anything else.
Spike cried out, shaking so hard he nearly vibrated Xander's teeth from
his shoulder. "Never," he whimpered. "Never again, I promise."
He had no idea what he was promising, and didn't care. Not with Xander
coming inside him, clamped down so tight Spike wanted to come from the
feel of teeth in his flesh alone. Wanted to, but didn't.
When Xander finished and roughly pulled out, Spike remained where he
was -- shaking, hard, belly flat against the mattress.
There was a dull ache in his balls as Xander moved away from Spike and
sat down on the side of the bed, dropping his head down into his hands
and taking a couple of slow, deep breaths. He wasn't even sure what the
fuck had just happened -- well, other than the actual fuck that
had just happened.
He looked over his shoulder at Spike, who was exactly where he'd left
him, and felt a sick, heavy throbbing in the pit of his stomach. Hesitantly,
he reached out and rested his hand on Spike's back, not knowing what to
say. Not knowing what Spike was thinking, or if the vampire would pull
away from his touch.
Spike rolled back into the touch, swallowing down the need to beg. To
make some kind of noise of appreciation. He sensed Xander's sudden shift
in mood, but didn't know what to do about it. Not after that.
Xander stroked once and Spike did moan. He couldn't help it. Xander's
jealousy demanded a response and this was the only one Spike knew how
to give. Even if I don't know what the hell brought it on. Blocking
out the feel of hot skin against his, Spike ran through his memories of
the evening. Meeting, then the Bronze, all of it perfectly normal as far
as he could tell. So what had set him off? And what can I do to make
him let me get off?
Xander didn't know how he was supposed to be feeling, but ashamed was
definitely vying for the lead. He urged Spike into a sitting position
with hands that trembled slightly, needing to see the vampire's face.
And then once he could see Spike's face, and the need that was
written all over it, there was nothing else to do but kiss him, hot and
hard and over-eager.
Much better. Spike wrapped his arms around Xander and clung, panting
whenever Xander lifted up long enough to grab air. "M'sorry,"
he murmured, feeling slick skin and damp hair under his fingers. "Won't
do it again."
Although, depending on what Xander did next, maybe he would. They'd been
fairly gentle with each other up until now, and the violence in Xander's
taking had reminded him that there were other things to do than cater
to shifting sexuality. The fierce passion Xander had displayed had Spike
harder than he could remember, and all he wanted was more.
For whatever reason, Xander felt the urge to try to apologize, but he
couldn't stop kissing Spike long enough to say the words. He ran his hands
over Spike's body, touching all the places he loved, much gentler now
than he'd been before, but in his desperation still probably rougher than
he meant to be.
"I didn't -- " he tried, but gave it up to the taste of Spike's
mouth and the clash of teeth against each other. He grabbed onto Spike's
thigh and used the grip to drag Spike closer, half onto his lap in an
awkward tangled embrace.
Spike struggled just enough to make Xander's fingers tighten and pinch
into his body, holding him in place. "Didn't what?" he whispered,
grinding himself down and out against Xander's stomach.
"Didn't tell me what's what, hmm? Who I belong to?"
After wracking his brains, he finally knew what'd set Xander off like
that. A little raven-haired chit that'd made eyes at him all night, one
that Spike had toyed with for the sheer amusement of it. She'd been nothing,
and even she knew it -- but it'd been fun to make eyes and play the part,
that's all.
Spike slid his hands into Xander's lap, touching a still-wet cock. "Or
should it be what I belong to. Gonna rule me with this, love?"
Xander shuddered and tangled his fingers in Spike's hair, jerked Spike's
face back toward his own again, their lips and tongues meeting more fiercely
than he'd intended as his mind raced. Spike wanted this. Liked it.
And, despite his confusion, Xander knew he'd liked it to -- while it
was happening, at least.
"Is that what you want?" he asked in a low voice that did its
best to be seductive, dragging his teeth along the pale column of Spike's
throat, tilting the vampire's head for his own convenience as Spike's
hands continued to fondle his cock. "You want me to show you?"
"Yesss," Spike hissed, as teeth found sensitive places only
lips had grazed before. "Want me to beg? Say 'yes, please, show me'?
'Prove I'm yours, an' that no one else but you can touch me'?"
His cock jumped with every low word. Hopefully that'd be proof enough
for Xander to see he liked this. Wanted it, and that there
was such a thing as good pain during sex. God, he'd forgotten how good
it could be, slammed beneath a rutting body, choices vanishing in a haze
of heat and control... He wanted that again. He wanted to not have to
choose, or worry, just being for his lover.
Fuck. Spike didn't just like this, he loved it. And Xander
seemed to like it just fine too, if his body's reaction to Spike's words
and touch were any indication, his cock swelling again as Spike fondled
it.
It was like something new had slipped into Spike's touch -- something
low, something that crawled on its belly and begged for more. This was
a part of Spike he hadn't seen before -- if there'd been hints of it,
he'd missed them in his typical oblivious fashion -- and the fact that
he could see it now made him shiver with a delicious kind of darkness,
dazzled by the possibilities.
"You're mine," Xander said, snaking his hand between
Spike's thighs and squeezing the slick tip of his cock, hard. "Don't
need to prove it. You don't look at anybody else, you don't even think
about anybody else. You hear me?"
Spike's head tipped back, the wordless noise he made somehow agreement
and supplication and want, all rolled into one. "Never," he
promised, hips jerking into the pain Xander gave him. "Promise, only
you."
Later, another time, when Xander was gone, Spike was going to do something
stupid like dance around the living room in ecstatic joy. Or maybe he'd
lie on Xander's bed and touch all the bruises he was going to be given,
cherishing each one. For now, he could only think things like thank
you and finally, yes and, most frightening of all, knew
he had it in him. Spike loved the goodness in Xander, without question.
Having that goodness directed at him, White Hat not the least tainted
by dark associations, had been half the reason he'd given in to his attraction
for Xander in the first place.
But seeing the dark side, even this vanilla of a dark side, he wondered
if he'd always guessed that this aspect lay hidden. That with the proper
application of casual looks and timed words, he could provoke such
angry need.
Xander squeezed again, nails digging into sensitive skin to draw Spike's
attention back. Spike whimpered, neck straining backward before releasing
with a snap, chin dropping against his chest. Oh, was he Xander's.
At this moment, he was Xander's anything, so long as he was hurt just
a little bit more.
"Stand up," Xander ordered, giving one last painful squeeze
to Spike's cock before letting go of him entirely.
He watched as Spike stood up, saw the way Spike kept his head down, his
eyes on the floor, and he liked what he saw. He let himself remember how
he'd felt when Spike had been exchanging glances with that little bitch
at the Bronze -- how pissed off he'd been, hot and flushed with anger.
How he'd managed to keep it together until they'd gotten home. Then he'd
kissed Spike hard, letting the jealousy swell up and take over, dragging
Spike into the apartment and tearing off his clothes and just... fucking
him.
Spike's cock was bobbing in the air in front of him, reddened and wet
at the head. "I ought to leave you like this," Xander told him.
"Make you stand here all night."
Spike shivered, cock leaking even harder at the possessive tone. He didn't
bother to hide his reaction. "Yes," he said simply.
How far would Xander take it? He wasn't cruel, for all that his inconsideration
could sometimes make him seem that way. He wasn't stupid, either. He knew
Spike was getting off on it, and that it was Xander doing it that
was half the excitement. At least, Spike hoped that Xander understood.
There were already enough shadows of Dru and Angelus in his head right
now. He wanted Xander to chase them out, sear them with heat and pain.
To show him, the way the vampire always needed to be shown.
And to do it without losing Xander's heart.
Xander stood up too, walking around behind Spike, looking at the vampire's
body. He stepped up close, pressing his front to Spike's back, rubbing
his erection against Spike's ass.
Reaching around to touch Spike's cock with the lightest touch possible,
Xander spoke into his ear in a low voice. "Or I could just punish
you and get it over with."
God, god what Xander could do to him. There was Angelus' cruelty,
Dru's knowledge of his body, all wrapped up in arms that Spike knew --
knew -- weren't going to hurt him except in ways Spike desperately
wanted.
He trembled, knees nearly knocking as his cock bobbed, seeking more of
the barely-there warmth of Xander's fingers. "Please," he begged.
"Please."
"What do you think I should do?" Xander asked, still in that
low tone. He traced a fingernail down along Spike's shoulder blade, watching
as it scratched a thin pink line into the skin. "Cut you? Hit you?
What's the proper punishment for someone who doesn't follow the rules?"
He pushed his hips forward and bit the nape of Spike's neck so hard that
he almost broke the skin.
Spike's cock jumped, the bite pushing him even closer to an orgasm he'd
been denied for too long already. Only strength of will kept him hard
and waiting, and he knew that soon that would fail, too. He wasn't going
to last long with a dominant Xander giving him all the fantasies he'd
forgotten he'd had.
He debated on asking for a ring, but didn't. He didn't say anything --
just moaned helplessly, even more turned on by the questions he knew he
wasn't supposed to answer. This was Xander's show, Xander's control, and
all Spike could do was take it.
Xander thought quickly. He didn't want to hurt Spike, not really -- what
he wanted was to hurt him just enough, to give the illusion of
hurting him so that they were both happy.
His jeans were discarded on the floor where he'd dropped them in his
earlier haste, and he moved away from Spike to get them, bending over
and removing the belt from the loops. He weighed the thick leather in
his hands, held it, gave it an experimental *snap* that made Spike quiver.
"Bend over," Xander told him.
Spike had tensed when Xander moved away, afraid that the innate goodness
in him would rise up and put a stop to his fun before it started. When
the belt had been slid, black and shiny, from the dull-black loops holding
it, Spike started panting.
He whimpered at the order, legs shaking so hard he almost toppled over
as he stood beside the bed, holding onto his own knees as he bent forward.
Shoulders down, back muscles complaining at the unsupported position,
his cock screaming for release while his ass was bared to the temperature-controlled
room, Spike felt fear for the first time that night. "Ring,"
he croaked.
This wasn't Angelus. And if he was going to enjoy this properly,
then he was going to need help. Spike cast his gaze up through his lashes,
looking appropriately shame-faced and demure. "Please."
His first instinct was to say no, but Xander figured Spike knew better
than he did what he could take. If this was about giving Spike something
he needed, then he might as well do it right.
"Okay," he said finally, letting the leather slap against his
bare leg and watching as Spike quivered again. "Get it. Put it on.
Then get back here. No fucking around."
Spike turned around, lowering his head in thanks before scuttling
to the their toy-chest. It'd been growing steadily from the simple vibrators
Anya had left to slightly kinkier toys -- rings, cuffs without silk or
fur lining, a dildo definitely not meant for a girl. No whips or floggers,
more's the pity, but the belt had looked fine in Xander's hand, skin shining
from reflected light.
Slipping the ring on took a bit of doing. He was very hard, and usually
a ring would've been placed on long before. He couldn't stop the growl
when the leather and metal finally pinched down around the base of his
cock, balls separated and bound beneath it.
Hurrying back, Spike kept his head down as he returned to his former
position, arse up and out, head bent and lowered, body still shaking.
Come on, Xander, do it. Please.
Xander slapped the belt hard against his own leg again, watching Spike
tremble as he waited, head down, bent over. There were other things Xander
wanted to be doing to his ass than hitting it with a belt, but this would
do.
No time to hesitate, he told himself, and no point in doing it unless
he was going to do it right.
Drawing his arm back, Xander snapped his wrist forward sharply, the sound
of the leather hitting Spike's bare skin surprisingly loud in the room.
Spike's head jerked back, air whinnying through his nose like a frightened
girl. It hurt, leather biting into him with more force than he
thought Xander was aware of exerting. This wasn't a warm-up love-tap --
this was the real thing, and Spike felt his buttocks sting where the belt
had lanced him.
It was perfect. "Please," he begged, so soft it could've
been nothing but air. "Prove it."
Hitting Spike the second time wasn't as easy, but Xander made himself
do it anyway. If anything, this blow was harder than the first one had
been, and Spike's answering flinch made Xander feel worse -- for about
a second, until Spike gave another little moan that Xander recognized
as the sound he made when he was totally worked up and ready to come.
That made Xander smile, and the next blow came without thought, the snap
of his wrist and the sharp smack* as the leather strap hit Spike's
ass seeming... right, somehow. "You're mine," Xander said.
"Yes."
He felt when Xander finally got it. The little click in his head was
echoed in metal tapping metal as Xander crushed the buckle in his fist.
The belt whizzed through the air, harder and harder as a rhythm was found,
a sense of relaxation traveling through leather and pain deep into Spike's
gut. Yes. This. This is what I need. Give me what I need, Xander.
He whimpered continuously under the blows, body arched and flushed as
if it could still produce sweat. Tears leaked from the corners of his
eyes, running saltless into his mouth. "Please," he gasped again
when he couldn't count how many blows it'd been, only that he still needed
more. "Please!"
"Shut up," Xander said, giving the next lick a burst
of extra speed. Then, his rhythm lost, he stepped closer and wrapped his
hand around Spike's cock, feeling how wet it was, letting the slick fluid
coat his fingers as Spike gasped and trembled. "When I'm done with
this, I'm gonna fuck you again," he purred into Spike's ear.
Spike shuddered, hips jerking in anticipation, rubbing his ass backward,
seeking Xander's heat. "Yes," he said. He wasn't sure the word
was even audible -- he'd shouted and screamed as Xander beat him raw and
swollen, his voice lost to the roughness of constant need. "Please."
Somehow, Spike's voice was even sexier like that, all rough and soft,
broken.
Broken, and Xander was the one with the power to do that.
Xander backed up and hit Spike again, sharply, hearing the sob it drove
from Spike. "Tell me."
Spike shook wildly, clutching his knees to tightly they creaked and ached
from the pressure. "Yours," he proclaimed, as loud as he could
force himself to sound. He'd shout this from the rooftops if Xander would
just hit him again. Make him bleed just a little. "Always yours.
Don't look, don't touch anyone but you."
"That's right," Xander said with satisfaction, hitting Spike
again and watching as the first trickle of blood tracked a slow path down
the back of Spike's thigh. "Think you're going to have any trouble
remembering that? Or do you need some more reminders?" He didn't
know what he was considering, not really, but he liked how it sounded.
The scent of his own blood hit him like a fist to the gut, knocking out
air he didn't need but still gasped after desperately. Did he need any
more reminders? No. Not needed.
Wanted.
"More," he grated, sobbing helplessly as he was hit again.
Making him stand on his own was the cruelest thing Xander had yet done,
denying him the comfort of swinging from bonds that would hold his weight.
Spike loved him for it. "Show me."
Xander's arm had already taken up the rhythm again, even if he was trying
not to see the blood. "Yeah," he said, feeling the blows all
the way in his torso each time the belt connected with Spike's ass. "I'll
show you."
Not letting himself think, he hit Spike half a dozen more times as the
vampire quivered and sobbed, then dropped the belt to the floor and shoved
Spike down onto his hands and knees.
"I'll show you," Xander said again, getting down between Spike's
thighs and pushing his own eager dick into the vampire without warning.
He screamed, the fire that smoldered on his thighs and buttocks
exploding into an inferno as he was breached. No lube, no warning, he
was ripped open by a cock that lost familiarity for perceived growth in
size. There was a club inside him, tearing him into tiny pieces
all stamped with an X.
His arms wouldn't support him, shoulders dropping him face-first into
the floor. He sobbed, scratching at carpet that scratched back, digging
his face in for additional points of pain. He needed to come. God, he
had to come. Xander had to give him that, allow him to find forgiveness
and relief from the pain with liquid bliss. "Please," he wept
into synthetic fabric. "Please, Xander, please."
Oh, but Xander liked the use of his name like that, all wrapped
up in pretty words and that desperate begging voice. "Fuck,"
he growled, pulling out almost all the way and then slamming forward again,
feeling the heat of Spike's thighs and ass against his skin. "You're
mine, Spike. Mine. And don't you dare forget it ever again."
Thrusting again, he reached around, felt Spike's cock slide into his
hand, felt the ring cool and hard as it rubbed over his pinky finger with
each movement. Spike was half-collapsed onto the rug, still sobbing, and
Xander was, with sudden, painful clarity, aware that he'd never be so
turned on in his life. His fingers fumbled with the cock ring, not sure
he'd be able to get it off in the state Spike was in, and even then couldn't
resist another surging thrust forward.
Spike hiccupped like a human when his exhale was interrupted by Xander
fumbling to release the ring and still slamming into him. Sensation overwhelmed
him, pain and pleasure mixing until there was nothing but Xander. "Xander,
Xander, Xander," he said, barely aware of how he slurred each repetition
drunkenly. "Yours, Xander, always yours. Xander. Please, Xander."
He'd been left like this before. Taken to this point of mindless need
and adoration and abandoned there unfulfilled, cruel laughter mocking
as its owner drifted away. Xander wouldn't do that, would he? Wouldn't
leave Spike with nothing but the memory of his broken, bloody body filled
to bursting? He wouldn't. Xander loved him ... didn't he?
With one hand holding onto Spike's hip and the other still trying to
get the stupid ring off, Xander shoved himself deeper into Spike's willing
body, grunting with the effort. "God yes," he gasped,
the perfection of Spike's body taking away almost all thoughts save one.
"Spike. God." And the ring came free, releasing Spike's cock
from its tight prison at the same time that Xander started to come.
The ring was gone and Xander was jerking, gasping behind him, filling
him -- and Spike let go. If there were punishments for misbehavior, he'd
take it later. Right now he was too busy pouring out liquid fire that
scalded even as it soothed his insides. He sobbed as he came, mindlessly
repeating Xander's name as he came every bit of himself, emptying it all
so Xander could fill it all back up.
Xander leaned over Spike, wrapping his arm around the vampire's waist
as the last of the spasms tapered off and taking great shuddering breaths
of air. Spike was still sobbing quietly, shivering underneath him. "Shh,"
he said. "I love you. Spike, it's okay."
He heard Xander's words, understanding that he'd broken no rules. He
didn't stop crying, though, tears muffled in his forearms even as he let
Xander push and pull him into whatever position he chose.
"Spike..." Helplessly, Xander pulled back, wincing at the sight
of Spike's blood on his own thighs. "Come here." He maneuvered
Spike up into a sitting position and pulled the vampire close, putting
both arms around him. "Shh. It's okay."
Spike almost, wished he would be abandoned the way he always had been
before. That would make dealing with this reaction -- inevitable and hated
and needed -- easier. You could hide humiliation no one but you ever witnessed.
Xander wasn't relaxing his grip, though, or making the strained little
noises that meant he wanted to be elsewhere. All he did was hold and soothe
and verbally search for something to do or say to put a broken Spike back
together.
It made Spike feel like a handful of sand, grains slipping through cupped
fingers no matter how tightly they were held together.
It made him feel lost.
Spike moved, suddenly, rising up and straddling Xander's lap, pressing
bloody, burning thighs to Xander's and burying his face in Xander's chest.
Holding on as tightly as he dared.
Xander was startled by Spike's sudden movement, but that didn't stop
him from gathering the vampire close and making more soothing noises.
"Shh. Okay, I've got you." Spike seemed a lot smaller than usual
right then -- usually he seemed sturdy, compact, strong, but in that moment
he was just kind of little and vulnerable, and Xander didn't know how
much of that was usually hidden and how much he'd brought out of Spike,
himself. Xander ran a hand tentatively through Spike's hair, petting it.
"There. It's okay."
Spike laughed, ignoring the wet snuffle in his own voice. "'M not
a pup, Xander." Even though sometimes he was, just like sometimes
he thought of Xander as 'the boy', because sometimes they were over-eager
puppies that needed their noses smacked or their bellies rubbed Ôtil
they were calm again.
"Thank you." Sniffling, hating the mucus build up no vampire
should have to deal with, Spike hitched himself a little higher and lay
his wet cheek against Xander's shoulder. "Stop being a girl, shall
I?"
Relieved, Xander smiled against Spike's hair. "Trust me, you could
not be any less like a girl." He reconsidered. "Unless
you stopped wearing nail polish." He rubbed his hand along Spike's
back, then stopped moving and just held him. "You okay?"
He nodded. He was, now. As okay as he ever could be, high on pain and
sex and comfort. "Wasn't flirting with her," he teased
gently, his voice still rough and far too soft. He drew a finger up Xander's
chest, toying with the curls there. "Not seriously, Xan, I promise.
But if I happen to maybe see a pretty little thing ... " He batted
his eyes, knowing Xander would feel lashes against his neck, knowing he
didn't need the distraction but compelled to do so anyway. "Think
you'll take me like this again?"
For just a second or two, Xander felt his hands tighten on Spike's body,
right where they were. The thought of it, even imagined, even in jest,
made him breathless and sick with jealousy. Then it washed away again,
leaving pretty much nothing but a deep kind of exhaustion in its wake.
"Maybe," he said. It was the only honest answer he could give.
"Hey."
Spike pushed himself up, careful not to wince as his welts rested hard
on Xander's thighs. Looking Xander in the eye required cupping a hand
around a bristled jaw and forcing him. "Xander. I'm not cheating
on you. Right? All this, that'd just be dying insecure and having it pounded
in by decades of insane partners. But the rest ... I love you, Xander.
I don't want anyone but you."
Xander felt his heart stutter when Spike said he loved him. Funny how
that kind of made the rest of it unimportant. "Good," he said
anyway, still looking into Spike's eyes. "Because I don't want you
to have anyone but me." He ran his hand down along Spike's back,
and Spike shifted slightly and winced. "God, Spike... I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have..."
That, he'd been expecting. Spike snorted, reaching around to grab
Xander's hand and press it hard against one of the welts that'd split
and bled. It hurt, Xander's skin rough and hot, a ridge of callous digging
into the tear. It felt good.
"You should have. I asked you to, love. Hell, I begged you
to. You gave me what I needed and I think you enjoyed the hell out of
it, yourself. Doesn't make you a sick fuck, Xander. You didn't do anything
I didn't want, didn't force anything on me I wasn't aching for."
Xander tried to pull his hand back, but Spike kept it there, pressed
against the skin. "I love you," Xander said. "I don't see
how that goes along with liking hurting you."
His wrist ached from being twisted around, but he managed to thread his
fingers with Xander's, their linked palms resting sideways on Spike's
buttocks. "Because you weren't hurting me," he said imploringly.
"Not like that. Xan, love, lover. You weren't hurting me like
that. You never would, think I don't know that? How the hell did you think
I could survive -- ask you that -- without trusting you?"
The way Spike was pleading with him to understand made Xander relax some.
He pulled their linked hands around between them again, slowly so that
they could change their grip without letting go.
"I guess I don't get why you'd trust me that much," he admitted.
"To do it right, I mean. I can kind of see why you'd want it -- it's
a vampire thing -- but I think maybe I'll never really get it,
you know?" He brought Spike's hand up to his mouth and kissed it.
"But I want to give you what you need." He glanced down sheepishly.
"And I really, really don't like you looking at other people."
Deserved a kiss, that did. When Spike finally backed away and allowed
Xander to breathe, he was pleased by the glazed eyes and the spots burning
rich and red in Xander's cheeks.
"There's no doing it wrong or right, you insecure little git. What
mattered was that it was you. That you enjoyed it as much as I
did." There was more to it, of course. It wasn't 'a vampire thing',
or at least, not primarily a vampire thing. It was also a show
of possession, a show of giving and receiving that cost a lot.
Spike'd always thought the rewards were pretty worth it.
"You do give me what I need," he murmured, settling against
Xander's chest again and scattering kisses over whiskers missed by a lazy
razor. "I promise I won't look at anybody else, so long as you think
about doing this again. Maybe start with spanking?" When Xander's
heart started to accelerate, Spike laughed and wiggled, feeling hot skin
burn into his. "I can be a very bad boy for you, love."
Xander laughed. "Why do I not find that hard to believe?" He
pulled Spike upright and kissed him again, even harder and longer this
time, letting the confusion drain away in the face of kissing someone
he loved. Someone who loved him back, which was... well, pretty incredible,
when it came right down to it.
"I could probably be persuaded to spank you, yeah," he admitted,
imagining the sting of his palm on that smooth white ass, the pink marks
he'd leave behind with each slap, and feeling his dick swell slightly
at the thought.
Spike rocked back and forth, ignoring the sting of welts with too much
pressure on them, encouraging both the thought and Xander's physical reaction
to it. "Reeeally? I think I'll have to work on that. See if I can
figure out how to... persuade you."
Persuade without crossing the line of Xander's jealousy, something he
honestly didn't want to ever do again. No matter how alright the outcome
had been, Xander had been genuinely enraged with Spike's kissy-face flirtation.
A bit of possessive, violent taking made Spike sit up and purr like a
trained kitty.
Actively enraging his lover -- his beloved -- was a different
story all together.
Sliding his arms around Xander's neck, Spike ground his half-hard cock
into Xander's and kissed him again. Kissing Xander was something Spike
could never get enough of, the taste of him, the way he fought without
ever wanting to really win. "Love you, Xander."
"Good," Xander said, nipping at Spike's lower lip. He sure
as hell wasn't going to complain that Spike was rubbing against him, not
when he wasn't anywhere close to being done for the night. He was good
for another round or two easy, especially if he let his thoughts wander
to how it had felt to have Spike sobbing beneath him...
Jeez, maybe he really was a sick fuck.
Of course, he was also a young, horny sick fuck with a lapful of eager
vampire who had hands that could do things to him he'd never have imagined
three months ago.
Xander turned his attention back to their kiss, rocking his hips so the
head of his cock bumped Spike's. "Do you?" he asked, wanting
to hear it again. "Do you love me?"
Spike kissed him, slow and sweet, with his hands in Xander's hair. Toying
with the strands, he ran his thumbs over Xander's cheeks, sweeping over
not actually smooth skin that heated under every touch. "I love you,
Xander."
Another kiss, and then he was moving down Xander's body, pushing him
down onto his back so Spike could wander wherever fingers and mouth might
take him. Every few moments he murmured another, "love you, Xander,"
a continual reminder as he gave everything he had to the man underneath
him.
Every time Spike hit one of his sensitive spots -- and damned if the
vampire didn't know them all -- Xander gasped. Having this kind of attention
lavished on him was... mind-blowing. He just lay there and let Spike do
anything he wanted, staying as still as he could -- which sometimes wasn't
very still, not with the things Spike was doing with his lips and tongue
and teeth and...
"God," Xander gasped, his hips flexing. "Spike, please..."
Xander had a sensitive spot right on the juncture of hip and thigh, high
up almost in the middle of the branching leg. Spike sucked on it thoughtfully,
petting Xander's other leg with a soft, gentle hand. "Want something,
love?" he teased.
Xander gargled something that was possibly English. He sounded so turned
on, his Xander did. His Xander. Spike savored that thought, knowing
himself to be a possessive bastard and not feeling the least bit of shame
about it. His Xander, but he was Xander's Spike. I'll give thee mine
in exchange for thine, floated through his mind, a nameless quote
he almost murmured aloud.
To prevent that from happening, Spike nuzzled at the base of Xander's
cock, licking the skin there. With tiny, nibbling bites he traveled from
base to tip, spending a good few moments licking up drops of precome as
they formed. "Love me?"
"Yes," Xander said in a strangled voice, shuddering.
Spike's mouth was incredible, otherworldly, making him so fucking hard
that he thought he was going to die. Each lick was inflammatory, making
him hotter instead of cooler like it should have. "I love you."
It felt like all his skin was so sensitive that he could feel molecules
of air moving around. Xander arched his back, making the head of his cock
bump Spike's lips, and groaned.
Spike took the head of Xander's cock in his mouth, tenderly laving the
red flesh while he rumbled his pleasure. The sound of his voice sent Xander
into a gasping, landed-fish impersonation. "Sorry, did you not like
it?" he couldn't help but ask.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Xander asked, gasping,
struggling to a sitting position so that he could grab Spike and kiss
him with every bit of the desperation he was feeling. "Love you.
Want you."
Spike relaxed into the kiss, perfectly content to let Xander be the one
making the moves. "Good. Want you too, love. Always."
More kisses and Spike remembered the need to talk about whisker-burn and
how much he wasn't a fan of it.
Wrapping his body around Xander's, Spike bit the lower lip in his mouth
just this side of hard. "What'd you want, Xan? Tell me."
"You," Xander said truthfully, running his hands over every
part of Spike's body he could reach. "I don't care. Just want...
you."
Spike rested his forehead against Xander's, eyes shut thought his hands
stayed busy over warm skin. "Have that," he promise hoarsely.
"You have that."
Didn't Xander understand that? He knew Spike was love's bitch -- before
they'd gotten together he'd teased Spike about it often enough. Actually...
intrigued by a memory he'd dismissed once they had gotten together,
Spike gathered Xander into his arms and lifted with the sudden displacements
he knew rattled Xander. He'd make it up to him, but right now, Spike wanted
him to be back on his own bed for this.
Bed was a giant monstrosity of a thing Xander had purchased before
they'd gotten together. The girls had been joking about it for weeks,
but it was only when he and Xander had tumbled into it for the first time
that he'd understood why it was so amusing. Deluxe king-sized mattress
as back-supportive as money could buy, it was the headboard that attracted
attention. The iron, modern headboard was full of hooks and jabs in its
mismatched bars that were perfect for some of the kinkier bondage games.
Games Xander had never played before tonight.
Lowering Xander onto the bed, Spike grabbed the bottle of lube under
the pillow and kissed his way from foot to head. "Love you,"
he repeated against Xander's mouth. Then he sat down and tugged Xander
onto his lap, his legs straddling either side of his hips, slick fingers
already pressing against Xander's body, begging entrance.
First there was a moment of confusion in which Xander wondered why the
hell Spike was picking him up when what he should be doing was
paying some attention to his neglected cock. And then Xander was on the
bed and Spike was pulling him close, which was what he really wanted.
Then Spike's fingers had lube... no, wait, then Spike had lube and his
fingers were... "God," Xander choked, shifting, not knowing
if he was trying to move toward that amazing wet pressure or trying to
get away from it, but Spike was there, and that was what really mattered.
That, and his cock, which was dying. "God, Spike..."
"Never really had anyone pray to me before," Spike murmured,
nonsense words he didn't pay any attention to.
There were too many distractions: Xander's insides, so tight and hot,
fluttering around the finger Spike slipped in, growing accustom to it.
The way Xander's heart beat, loud and fast and making Spike's insides
pulse to the same rhythm. The way his chest heaved, mouth wide and wet
and startlingly pink as he gasped and babbled at Spike. His knees tight
around SpikeÕs thighs, the muscles in his legs trembling so sweetly
as he balanced to let Spike touch him.
"You gonna be the first?" One finger was slowly, soooooo slowly
becoming two, more of a tease than the taunting words. He wanted to see
how far he could push. "Worship me with all the love you've got,
Xan? Be my acolyte?"
Xander's hand was on Spike's side, then his shoulder, trying to find
something to hold onto as Spike's fingers eased their way inside him so
slowly that they threatened to drive him crazy. He was panting, his lower
body rocking restlessly, feeling as much of Spike's touch as possible.
He didn't even know what Spike was saying -- his brain couldn't be expected
to work under conditions like this, could it? "Yeah," he said
anyway. "Yeah. Spike... God, don't stop. I can't..." He whimpered
and was barely ashamed of the sound.
He could feel himself stretching to let Spike in, even if it wasn't letting
so much as not having a choice, two fingers rubbing deep inside him, the
tip of Spike's thumb brushing Xander's balls and making him shiver and
groan.
Xander was fallen-angel pretty, then, stretched out and wanting, head
tipped back to expose the long line of neck slipping into chest, to hips,
to legs. One day, Spike was going to show him this. How beautiful
he was, sheened with sweat and flushed with desire. "Love you,"
he murmured again, second finger becoming three. They hadn't done this
enough for Spike to want to take chances.
He was so hot inside, burning Spike's fingers the way his cock
burned Spike from the inside out. The heat radiated down through Spike's
arm, and his cock -- Spike's cock -- twitched with needy readiness. It
wanted in there, to return the possessiveness he'd been shown when
theyÕd first arrived home.
But Xander didn't need possessiveness, not the way Spike did. He needed
something much gentler, more equal -- and Spike would give it to
him.
"Lift up more, love," he said, removing his fingers to the
tune of Xander's keening. "Shh, come on, let me in, love. Let me
-- " He gasped, air vanishing from his throat as Xander lifted and
leaned into Spike's guiding hands, letting the head of Spike's cock ease
inside.
Oh God, oh God, oh... Xander knew that he was just thinking the
words because his lungs were frozen as Spike pushed slowly into him, being
gentle, careful, and somehow that just made it all the more incredible.
Spike's cock went deep, deeper, and it felt like nothing ever had -- bigger
and better.
Xander realized he was clenching his teeth, unconsciously trying to muffle
the sounds that were forcing their way out of him now that his lungs were
working again. His own dick felt achy and swollen, but he could barely
pay it any attention because he was too busy dealing with the fact that
Spike's cock was up his ass, filling him, taking him to a place where
all that mattered was him and Spike and how their bodies fit together.
He licked his lips, which felt suddenly dry. "Spike..." he
panted, needing reassurance.
Spike caught the motion and sucked on first the lower, then the upper
lip for Xander, feeling XanderÕs cock paint wet translucent stripes
over his belly as he pressed their chests together. "Got you,"
he promised. The sound of his own voice -- gravel rough and short -- made
his belly shiver. "I've got you, Xander. Love you."
Still kissing, Spike gripped Xander's hips and gently eased him down.
He was afraid to move his own body and take things too quickly; they hadn't
done this but three or four times, and most of those had Xander in total
control. Not this time. Despite the positioning, Xander sitting on Spike's
hips, his legs tucked under and tangling with Spike's, both of them knew
that it wasn't Xander driving this. Not this time.
"Easy," he crooned, thumbs relaxing their pressure right before
bruises could form. "Slow's you want."
Xander forced his eyes open and looked into Spike's amazingly blue ones.
He was still gasping for air, his breath coming in short pants as he tried
to adjust to the invasion of his body. He couldn't grasp how they'd gone
from one extreme to the other so quickly -- from him being so fucking
angry at Spike, to Spike wanting Xander to hurt him, to this...
Spike's gentle voice encouraging him, telling him he loved him and it
was all going to be okay.
He made a sound that had no translation, a desperate gasping moan, and
rocked his hips. "Please..." he whispered, begging for more.
When Xander finally slid his way to the bottom, they both shuddered and
groaned in reaction. "You feel so good," Spike told Xander's
neck. "Feel like fire. Taste like fire."
Ignoring his own body's demands to move and the frantic way Xander's
eyes rolled, Spike dragged blunted teeth down Xander's neck to find the
nipples that were practically at eye-level with him. Sucking the right
one into his mouth, Spike held onto Xander's buttocks, forcing him to
stay down and unmoving. This had to be slow. Drawn out and languid
until Xander needed more.
Spike was holding him still, and Xander needed to move. He took
a shuddering breath as Spike's mouth settled on one nipple, sucking on
it, flicking the tip of his tongue over it again and again until Xander
felt his dick get even harder.
But Spike seemed happy not to go any further -- just slid his lips over
to Xander's other nipple after a while, toying with it in turn, teeth
scraping gently. Xander moaned, tried to move against Spike's restraining
hands. He could feel Spike's cock, well-lubed, ease the tiniest bit deeper,
and he tipped his head back, eyes closed, and moaned again.
He didn't want to touch himself, not yet, so instead Xander rested his
hands on Spike's shoulders, tightening his grip restlessly with each lick
of Spike's tongue.
"So perfect," Spike breathed, the growing pain of Xander's
hands digging into his skin the last bit of what he'd needed. Xander didn't
know that, of course -- poor boy was too busy having his mind swirled
around his skull, dribbling over the edges the way ice cream escaped from
the cone.
It should've disturbed Spike that he could be so easily read. Xander
was in his head, now, and never coming out. And Spike loved him just a
little bit more for that; now, even when Xander didn't understand -- he
did.
Moving only his hips, Spike began to rock back and forth into Xander's
body. Slick, fluttering muscle encased him, rubbing against his length
and threatening to burn him into ash at any moment. "Fuck, Xand,
you feel so good."
Xander was panting desperately again, lost in the pain and pleasure of
having Spike moving inside him. He could feel sweat on his body, cold
and hot at the same time, and his own cock felt like it might explode
when the head of Spike's dick rubbed over that spot that made him cry
out. It had been good before, but never like this, not like all the energy
in the room was being drawn into his body, making him quiver and gasp.
"Spike... oh God, don't stop, please, don't stop..."
He thought he might be dying, and he didn't care.
This slow, measured pace that a snail would view with contempt was killing
him, but Spike couldn't speed it up. Each gasp and twitch of Xander's
body was a burst of light behind his eyes, warming him down to the smallest
atom. Each begged word sounded the way church bells used to, when he was
human and still loved those trappings -- layered harmonies lifting up
something sweet and good inside him until he almost burst from the pressure
of it, his ears not holy enough a shell to contain the joy.
"Won't stop, love... can't, god, I can't."
Hearing Spike say that was like a bolt of pure energy through Xander's
body -- he gasped and clamped down around Spike's cock. He wanted Spike
to throw him down onto the bed and fuck him hard, use his body. To know
that Spike wanted him that much too, that it wasn't just a one-sided desperation.
"Please," Xander choked out. "Fuck me."
"Am." Spike's chest was tight, the constriction making it hard
for him to remember why he wasn't doing what Xander wanted. Oh, right.
He was, just not yet. "Don't feel me inside you, love? Pushing inside
so deep?"
That was one of the advantages of this position. You felt the
depths the way a hard fucking on your belly or back wouldn't always let
you experience. Spike wanted Xander to know that. What it was like to
feel something more deeply inside you than anything else before.
"Yeah," Xander gasped. "God, it's so..." He didn't
even have words for how it felt, so much more.
He couldn't stand it, he had to move. Shifting his weight, Xander managed
to get a little bit of leverage and meet the next gentle rocking motion
of Spike's hips with a downward movement of his own. And he so
hadn't been prepared for what even that small change would be like --
he cried out, shaking in Spike's arms, on the verge of coming right then.
"No, no..." He didn't want to, not yet. "Stop, Spike, wait."
The heady rush of increased pheromones made stilling his hips
the last thing Spike wanted to do. He shook as he tried to hold himself
steady, one hand pinching the base of Xander's cock. Xander was shaking,
bones nearly rattling, and he made low, frustrated sounds of effort in
his throat.
"Shhhh, not moving. Calm down, Xander. Calm down."
Trying to take deep breaths, Xander let Spike's soothing voice wash over
him. It wasn't a voice he got to hear all that often, and he wasn't sure
if he should be admitting, even to himself, how much he liked it.
"Sorry," he said finally when he'd gotten control of himself.
He bent his head to kiss Spike gratefully.
Spike chuckled into the kiss. "Sorry you're enjoying riding my cock?
Think you've got a funny view of sorry, love."
When Xander's heartbeat steadied, Spike began a slow, steady rocking
again. He wasn't really pushing inside so much as circling, rubbing
every bit of himself against the walls of Xander's body. He didn't let
go of Xander's cock, either. He'd bought a ring in the hopes of convincing
Xander to at least try it -- but no. Not for this. There shouldn't be
toys or games or things to interrupt them. Just two bodies, together.
Xander did his best to keep control of himself this time, although Spike's
hand wrapped around the base of his cock definitely helped. And they kept
kissing -- deep, hungry kisses that were slow and wet, tongues tasting
each other's mouths. He loved it when Spike's tongue flicked against the
roof of his mouth -- every time Spike did it, he felt his cock give a
little jolt of excitement.
"You're..." He gasped and wrenched his mouth away again. "God,
you're so hot. Love this. Love you."
Spike moved his hips just so -- pleased when Xander gasped, eyes wide
while his body reacted, cock throbbing hard and needy in his grip. It
was hard, so damnably hard, to keep things so quiet. Still as a pool with
only the barest hint of ripples across the surface.
"Trying to play who's prettier?" he teased, using it to distract
himself from his need to move. "Trust me, love. You'll win."
"Yeah," Xander said. He took Spike's face between his hands
and kissed him carefully, thoroughly. "I figure I am the winner,
but more because I'm the one who gets you."
Spike moved in a slightly different way, and Xander made a little sound
as his cock twitched in Spike's hand. "Do that again."
"Told you you'd win." Get the last word in. A game they played,
trading one-liners until the initial conversation was so muddled and twisted
that neither of them remembered what they were talking about.
Spike focused on that, because watching Xander damned near come was making
him damned near come. And when Xander repeated that noise, the
one that was half squeak, half moan... He was the vampire, with superhuman
control. He wasn't going to come yet.
"Fine," Xander said, trying to make his voice as close to normal
as possible. "I win. You were right." He tightened his ass around
Spike's cock, which in addition to making Spike groan had the added benefit
of giving himself just the tiniest bit of control back. "Happy now?"
"Let's just say," Spike said in a voice that went high and
tight with strain, "it's a good thing I'm not cursed."
Xander did it again, too turned on to grin at the effect it was having
on Spike, but wanting to see that unfocused look in Spike's eyes. "You
won't break me, you know," he said, sliding a hand down to pinch
one of Spike's nipples.
Spike growled. Not the lusty, driven sound Xander had made at
first, anger and need layered through the want. Spike's growl was inhuman,
the snarl of an animal pushed past the breaking point by a lover that
knew him far, far too well.
Just another reason Spike loved him.
He kissed Xander onto his back, biting his lip hard enough to draw out
a gasp the instant skin touched suede comforter. Vague notions of repositioning
Xander's limbs for comfort shattered with Xander's moan. Snarling again,
almost slipping into game-face with need, Spike began to fuck: deep, long,
punishing strokes.
God yes, this was what Xander wanted -- for Spike to show him
how much he wanted him, for Spike to just lose control and fuck him hard.
This was like -- like the best thing ever.
Xander didn't even try to meet Spike's thrusts; there was no way he could
have. So he just lay there and let Spike fuck him with a force that took
his breath away, just closed his eyes and let the feel of his ass being
used for Spike's pleasure -- not to mention his own -- drive little whimpers
from him with every stroke. He knew if he touched his own cock, which
was steadily leaking fluid onto his stomach, he'd come in a second.
Instead, deliberately, he raised his arms above his head in a gesture
of clear submission.
Spike wasn't quite far enough gone to miss Xander's slow, deliberate
movement. The snap of his eyes would've given it away, though, if he had.
Dangerous, wordless noises issued from Spike's mouth, and he knew he was
seconds from doing Xander actual damage. Had he forgotten what Spike was?
The chip was only an issue between the two of them if there was intent
-- roughhousing never provoked it anymore, nor did the occasional training
bout. He could hurt Xander, here. Only in the best ways, of course,
but Xander had never once given any indication he actually wanted to be
on the receiving end of the games Spike loved.
He fucked faster, harder -- hard enough to draw more than just the delicious
whimpers Xander made with every deep stroke. That pushed him over, and
for one exquisite moment, Spike didn't care. He wanted, he was being offered
-- and he was taking. Rearing up onto his knees, Spike grabbed Xander's
buttocks, using the hold to draw his hips up and over, changing the angle
slightly. The other hand circled around Xander's wrists, drawing them
together in a vise grip that no human was going to ever struggle free
from. And then he started moving faster still.
Xander cried out when Spike grabbed hold of his wrists -- he hadn't been
sure Spike would take advantage of what he was offering, and the feel
of his wrist bones grinding together just slightly was enough to make
his body buck and shudder, instinctively trying to free itself.
Not that he really wanted Spike to let him go, and luckily Spike seemed
to know that. Spike's cock started to move in and out of him even faster,
threatening to split him open and glancing off his prostate with every
stroke, making Xander moan loudly. His position was such that he had no
control at all over what was happening.
He loved it.
And God, he was going to come.
Xander was writhing below him, moaning and making the hitching sounds
that meant coming really soon, now. Golden eyes tracked every twitch
and thrash, feral enjoyment of a willingly captured creature making Spike
want that much more.
His teeth ached. Sweat-damp hair feathered over the place that
Spike wanted, blue vein beating hard enough that it threatened to break
through the skin unaided. Some vestige of human kept Spike from leaning
down and running his tongue over that place, certain that tongue would
quickly give way to razored teeth, and Xander hadn't asked for that.
Xander had never even asked to see Spike's game-face, that single thoughtful
part of him mused.
"Look," he growled, squeezing hands over wrists and rounded
muscle tighter to force Xander's attention. "Look at me."
Spike was talking. No talking, no, not... Xander had to force his brain
to pay attention, to hear what Spike had said, and then he obeyed. Opened
his eyes and looked at Spike, whose own eyes glowed yellow as Xander's
dick throbbed, heavy and hot, demanding pretty much all of his attention.
"Yeah," he panted, meeting Spike's gaze. "Looking."
"Don't stop."
Spike licked his own teeth, tasting need, hints of Xander, and blood
when sharp fangs pierced his tongue. Blood. His own, not Xander's, and
he needed Xander's. He was a vampire. A lover, a friend, everything
a vampire wasn't -- but still a vampire.
Roaring, Spike took Xander's mouth, kissing desperately, and delicately
-- so delicately -- sliced the edge of Xander's lower lip. It wasn't a
lot. Just a hint of blood, sweet with arousal and something the vampire
didn't recognize but still sucked at greedily. Spike recognized it. Tasting
it made him explode.
Xander couldn't help it -- when Spike kissed him like that, so carefully
and yet somehow with so much need in it, he closed his eyes again,
tasting what he thought was Spike's blood for a second or two before a
razor-sharp tooth opened his own lip and there was the added tinge of
his own blood.
And then he came, with Spike's dick buried in his ass and Spike's body
shuddering on top of him, his own body practically bent double so that
he felt his come shoot against his throat, hot and sticky, and it felt
like he was turning inside out. The sound he made was almost inhuman,
a desperate wail of ecstasy and completion.
Spike probed the cut with his tongue, searching for even the tiniest
trickle of blood to fill him even as his body emptied itself completely.
He thrust mindlessly into Xander's body, riding out a wave of bliss that
held none of the lassitude of afterglow; Spike wanted. Wanted Xander.
Still buried inside Xander's body, Spike released the no longer bleeding
lip and began a hunt. Xander's come lay drying on his skin, mixing with
sweat, and Spike wanted it. He sought and found every bit, every stray
dribble, and licked it clean.
Xander tilted his head back to give Spike easier access to his throat,
caring only that it felt good -- wrong -- good to have Spike's
lips and tongue sucking at his skin. In that moment he would have agreed
to anything, anything that Spike wanted, and part of him knew that
the feeling wouldn't last, and the rest of him knew that he'd regret not
having taken advantage of it.
Spike was inside him, in more ways than one.
He wanted to be inside Spike, too.
With a shivering sigh, Xander turned his head to the side, baring the
part of his throat that he knew Spike wanted.
Spike didn't stop, over and over laving an area that grew red under his
ministrations. Xander was offering something Spike knew he didn't truly
want. Something he didn't even understand. Xander was the protector, for
all he was often physically rescued. Emotionally, he was the base, the
rock others leaned on to get through the day. Spike did it as much as
any of the others. Xander couldn't understand what he was offering.
Spike ignored it, shaking as he fought to keep the human face he'd returned
to after orgasm.
Running his hands over the parts of Spike he could reach, Xander sighed
again, thinking that the moment had passed. "It's okay," he
said soothingly. "If you needed to... that'd be okay with me."
He wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was curious to know what it
would be like, to have Spike feed from him.
Spike stilled. "You're not food."
"Well, if you want to get technical, part of me is,"
Xander said, keeping his voice gentle, not wanting to break whatever spell
they seemed to be under. "But... I love you. If there's something
you need I can give you, I want to do that." He reconsidered. "Although
possibly not in this position."
Spike had learned tai chi, once. He didn't have the patience for mastery,
but usually after beating the crap out of something and then shagging
something unconscious, he'd worked off enough energy that he could follow
the slow, graceful movements. There was a rhythm to tai chi, the slow
beat of the earth below and the air all around. Spike found that now,
using it to offer him some kind of distraction. Some kind of ground as
Xander said words he shouldn't ever say. Not for this.
Working free of Xander's body, Spike rolled him onto his belly, soothing
him with a hand on his back while he carefully examined Xander's entrance.
Xander had been far too close to virginal for such a frenetic taking,
and Spike was relieved to see there was no damage. The skin was red and
inflamed and he knew that Xander would be sore for several days, but nothing
was torn or bleeding, and Xander didn't seem to be in pain.
"Needed what you gave me before," he said softly, stroking
the curve of buttock down to where it reddened and stretched. "Needed
you to want me, let me love you. But I don't need your blood, Xander."
He just wanted it with a strength that unnerved him. Distracting himself,
he slithered onto his belly and trailed his tongue between stretched cheeks.
When Spike pulled out and rolled him over, Xander relaxed into the mattress
with a sigh. He really thought it would have been okay with him if Spike
had wanted to bite him -- after all, he was sort of responsible for Spike,
right? He was supposed to take care of him.
Spike ran cool hands over Xander's skin soothingly, then moved down and
-- Xander tensed as he felt what had to be Spike's tongue licking its
way down his ass. He couldn't be -- he wouldn't
Oh God, he could and did. Spike's tongue probed him gently, licking over
his sore skin and then directly over his hole, making him twitch. "Spike..."
he said, his voice strangled and high-pitched. Spike did it again, pushing
against him with the unbelievably soft tip of his tongue, and Xander moaned.
Spike trailed soft, kitten licks all around the hole without pushing
in. He wasn't sure if Xander was up for something like that. He moaned
when Xander did, smugly self-satisfied that he'd distracted Xander with
something that felt so good. That felt so nice -- he knew how good
rimming right after an abrasively hard fuck could be. Keeping his tongue
heavy with wetness, Spike soothed red skin and waited to see if Xander
wanted more.
Xander's hips rocked slightly, pushing his sensitive cock into the soft
fabric of the comforter. Spike's tongue felt amazing -- was making
him half-hard again, which made him whimper because he'd thought he was
way past being able to come again tonight and now he wasn't so sure.
It was weird how he could be so sore and still turned on. He kept moaning
his appreciation every time Spike's tongue slicked over his hole, shivering
slightly.
Spike kneaded buttock and thigh, inhaling the scent of him and Xander
mingled together and Xander's slowly growing arousal. Lifting off enough,
Spike nipped the densest part of Xander's buttock, chuckling. "Energizer
bunny tonight."
Xander lifted his own head and said good-naturedly, "Hey, it's not
my fault. You're the one who had to be all flirty with other people and
then drive me out of my mind with the sex." The anger he'd felt earlier
was gone now, mellowed into something loose-muscled and full of lassitude.
"And for the record," he added, grinding his cock lazily into
the comforter, "You are the best fuck ever. And I'm talking
many millenniums of ever."
Spike's tongue dipped inside for the smallest of instants. Xander's teasing
reassured him, soothing the tension from being asked that -- not because
he wanted it, wanted to share that with Spike, but because he thought
Spike needed it? Never happen -- and letting him finally relax
into the boneless feeling of being well fucked.
"Better than your cheerleader?" he teased, knowing full well
that the most those two had done was some heavy groping and frottage.
"Bet she's a firecracker in the sack." He pressed inside again,
lingering a fraction longer.
"She's not even in the same league," Xander said. Or tried
to say -- around the time he was saying 'league,' Spike's tongue slipped
inside him, and the word tapered off in something that sounded more like
"lea-gaaaaaaah." He shivered and clutched a handful of the comforter,
panting. "Do that again. Please."
Spike smirked, knowing he wore his evil like a mask but enjoying the
feel of it against the skin, if only for a moment. "Do what?"
Xander tilted his hips, lifting his ass up off the bed. "That. Thing.
With the... and the... God, Spike, please."
"Look kinda uncomfortable, pet." Running his hands over Xander's
hips, Spike slid them neatly around to explore between. "Very
uncomfortable. What's this, four tonight?" He tugged lightly, chuckling
when Xander let out a pained moan. "Ask me nice, love."
"I thought saying please was asking nicely," Xander
said, gritting his teeth as Spike played with his cock and balls, squirming.
He realized instantly that he was desperate enough to beg if that was
what it took. "Please, Spike, do that thing again with your tongue.
Please?"
Taking pity, Spike leaned down to lick from balls to back twice, then
pressed his tongue nearly halfway inside and wiggled it. "What, this?"
"Gah. Yes." Xander gasped for air, his cock a mindless, helpless
ache. "More. Please."
Spike did it again, lingering longer this time, and Xander's hips twitched,
his cock shooting a hot jolt of precome that wet the tip and made him
groan.
Spike pushed one of Xander's thighs wide with his elbow, forearm holding
Xander off the bed, while his fingers were busy playing with the precome
Xander kept offering with long groans. He'd never done this with
Xander, either. He'd been too busy playing the good little boyfriend,
telling himself he was content with the mostly vanilla sex Xander preferred.
Well, he had been content. Bottoming for Xander, even thinking
about it, made his own cock rise and start telling him how much he wanted
that sweet, filling burn inside him. But now that he'd done more, Spike
wasn't going back.
"Very polite," he praised, rewarding Xander with a squeeze
around his cock and a tongue pressed as far inside as possible.
Xander shook in Spike's grip, his dick hardening to what felt like steel
or something else much too hard to be flesh as Spike's tongue forced its
way deep inside him, filling him with a heady sense of pressure that seemed
like it didn't belong, somehow. Not that he was complaining.
"Spike, God please, I want, need..." He was losing it, babbling,
with Spike's tongue soft and wet in his ass and Spike's hand on his aching
erection.
Hand and tongue moved in tandem, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes achingly
sweet and slow. "What d'you need, love?" Spike asked when he
paused once to rest his jaw. Breathing wasn't an issue, but forcing his
jaw out of socket still was.
"You." Xander laughed, high and rather hysterical, the edges
of his vision hypnotizing him with red sparks that made him wonder, also
rather hysterically, if he was having some kind of aneurysm. Spike's tongue
slipped into him again, oh so wet, and one of Spike's fingers traced a
slick line the length of his cock, from tip to base to balls to the strip
of skin just behind, and Xander moaned again. "Please, Spike... need
you."
A thought. Spike didn't have them often, and this one wasn't leaving
him be. It was making him do things like measure the length of his arms
and the relative length of Xander from neck to crotch. It was distracting
him from seeing to Xander. He didn't like that at all.
"Love you," he lifted up long enough to murmur, placing sucking
wet kisses on the small of Xander's back. The skin was so fine there,
dipped away from elements and time. Still working Xander's dick with slow,
hard little tugs, he pushed Xander into a kneeling position, head down
still by the bed, and slid his right arm out from under Xander and stretched
it along the bed. It nearly didn't reach, but some rearranging let him
get it over the final inches -- so his wrist was in front of Xander's
mouth. "Bite. S'what you want."
Xander blinked dumbly at Spike's wrist for what felt like a really long
minute, wondering what the hell had given Spike that idea when actually
it was the other way around. He lowered his mouth the required couple
of inches to kiss the pale skin with gentle lips, then mouthed it softly,
imagining using his teeth on it to see if that was what he really wanted
and maybe he just didn't know it.
"I don't..." he hesitated, Spike's other hand on his cock making
him suck in a breath. "Are you sure? I mean... how do you know?"
"Trust me, love." He traced a line from top to bottom again,
swirling around Xander's hole, still stroking. Always stroking, making
sure Xander's arousal stayed high. "This is what you want. Wanted
to feel part of it, before, didn't you? When you offered me? That's all
this is, love."
Except this way, Xander wouldn't get hurt. No ugly scars on his skin,
and not a single chance that Spike would take more than he should.
Spike's tongue flickered over him again unexpectedly and Xander gasped.
"Yes," he said automatically, then realized he had no idea what
he'd just agreed to. He felt driven by Spike's tongue as it stabbed into
him, and he whimpered, not knowing what to do.
Spike left his arm where it was, focusing on working Xander back into
a frenzy. His tongue ached, protesting each flick and delve as he found
each nerve and teased them nearly individually. Xander was clenching around
him, muscles growing ever tighter as the cock laying against his palm
grew hotter and heavier.
Xander whimpered again, rocking his weight from one knee to the other,
gasping in short breaths of air that were starting to sound more like
sobs than anything else. His arousal evened out, and just when he thought
he was going to come it stuttered to a higher level, making him cry out
eagerly.
"Spike, I can't... God, yes, yes..." And discovered that Spike
did know what he needed when, as orgasm slammed through him, he
bit down hard on Spike's wrist, breaking the skin and tasting bittersweet
blood on his tongue.
Spike moaned like a virgin when he was bit, high and nervous and so amazingly
turned on that he couldn't control his shivering body. The pain was nothing
against the feel of slick enamel slicing into his skin, forcing blood
to the surface to bead along his skin. And when Xander started sucking,
still jerking and mindless as he came
Spike groaned again, rubbing himself hard against the bed as orgasm overtook
him.
Xander shivered, boneless and sated on a level so deep that he had no
choice but to release Spike's wrist and collapse forward onto the mattress,
still making those gasped, sobbing noises. He turned, shifted himself,
curled around Spike and ran a hand through the vampire's hair as Spike
rode out the last of his orgasm.
He took Spike's wrist in his hand and brought it to his mouth again,
licking the small wound he'd made with gentle flicks of his tongue.
Spike knew he sounded like a locomotive, gouting huge plumes of black
smoke into Xander's chest as he tried to find center. It was hard. Coming
like that, Xander still cradling his wrist to lick the wound dry -- he
shuddered, body trying to produce more come to ejaculate when there was
truly nothing to be had.
"Love you," he prayed, the words a gift of himself to Xander.
"Oh, Christ, I love you, Xander."
The words settled into Xander's chest and warmed him in a way nothing
had for a very long time. He cradled Spike closer, their legs tangled
together, both of them sticky and spent. "I love you," he breathed
over the torn skin of Spike's wrist. "God, Spike... never leave.
Promise me."
His fingers tightened around Xander's biceps, hard enough that there'd
be faint shadows of bruises there later. "I don't leave," he
promised hoarsely. "Not once in a hundred a' fifty years have I left,
and that's gonna be true Ôtil the day I'm ashes."
Finding energy from somewhere, Spike shifted so his forehead pressed
against Xander's sweaty one, noses brushing underneath one distortedly
huge brown eye. "Never leavin' you."
That was good enough for Xander, who in that moment cared for nothing
but the reassuring solidity of Spike's body against his. He tilted his
head and kissed Spike with the taste of blood still in his mouth, their
lips parting, tongues brushing over each other wetly.
His body felt heavy, exhausted, and he was sore in ways he knew would
linger for days even though every twinge and ache would make him smile.
"Mmph. Sleepy," he murmured against Spike's mouth. His hand
skated down along Spike's back and cupped his ass possessively. "You?"
Spike's eyes closed for a moment, body arching back against Xander's
hold -- hard, and possessive, and unyielding. After so long, the poet
didn't need words for his answers, finding them instead in the language
of touch. Xander had given him everything, and his body knew it.
"Sleep." Strands of hair parted against his fingers, the warm
heat of Xander's body reassuring against his own. Stroking the back of
Xander's head and neck, Spike kissed his eyes shut. "Sleep for me,
love."
Xander buried his face in Spike's neck and took a deep breath, inhaling
Spike's scent as he held Spike to him tightly, then he gradually loosened
his grip and sighed happily. "Love you, Spike." Sleep was pulling
at him, but even as he felt himself drifting off, his hands were stroking
very slowly over Spike's skin, not wanting to give that up even in if
he wasn't awake.
"Love you," he whispered again.
Xander slept.
Spike waited until Xander's breath was blooming warm and even against
his skin. Much as he wanted to stay there, unmoving, he knew he'd better
not. Their naked bodies were tangled on top of a bed covered in their
release, and Xander always grew chilled if there wasn't at least a sheet
over him. Slowly, carefully, he eased out from under Xander's hold.
Xander immediately frowned and made an unhappy noise.
"Shh. Just a tick, pet."
Tugging down the edge of the blankets, Spike quickly shifted Xander underneath.
Stripping off the brown comforter -- a housewarming gift from Willow,
and it would have to be dry cleaned before the witchlet came over again
-- Spike slithered back to his confused lover and tucked his body into
searching arms. "See? All better now."
Xander gave a mighty harrumph and settled down into his night
rhythms. Shaking his head and trying not to laugh, Spike pressed his mouth
against damp locks of hair and finally let himself sleep.