Xander gradually became aware of his surrounding. Okay. Bruce Willis being gruff and macho, and at a tolerable volume, too. Go Spike thoughtfulness, never knew you existed. I’m lying on my bed—naked. I’m naked. And spread-eagled. How did I do that?
Swallowing a wave of nervousness, Xander carefully moved one arm to snag the sheet and cover himself. He ignored his body’s sudden communication that it was suffocating from heat. Okay, nakedness covered, what’s next? Right. This would be the perfect moment to acknowledge that Spike is untied and sitting next to me. Shirtless, shoeless, and running his fingers through my hair.
Spike’s running his fingers through my hair. And it feels good. Hello, now would be the time to panic, yes? Um. . . panic? Xander closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that when he opened them he’d be alone in the basement. Or at least Spike would be tied up in his chair. The cool fingers never ceased their gentle rhythm and Xander didn’t need to open his eyes to know he wasn’t five, and life didn’t work that way.
Let’s recap. I’m lying in bed, stark naked, with a half-naked vampire sitting next to me and petting my hair like I was a puppy. And I’m not frightened. Not even a teeny, tiny bit. If anything I’m. . . content.
For the first time in almost two solid years, Xander had not woken up feeling anxious, nervous, jittery or any of hundreds of words that basically meant ‘not right’. There was no battle between a young man’s slothfulness and a primitive instinct to find—
What the hell happened while I was asleep!?
“Evenin’, pet,” Spike drawled from above him. He switched from petting to swirling those cool, strong fingers around his head. Xander stifled a groan—he loved getting his scalp massaged—and forced his body to not curl up into the caress. I’m not an animal. I’m a human, and a man.
“Spike. What are you doing?”
“Watchin’ the movie, what’s it look like?” Xander didn’t have to look up to know that Spike was smirking. “You feelin’ any better?”
Xander blinked, squinting in the blue light to see the ceiling. Yup, same old mildew stains in their far-too-familiar patterns. He was still in the Basement of Doom. So why the hell does this feel like an episode of The Twilight Zone? Even more than my life usually is?
“Pet? I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“Yes, I’m feeling better.” Xander tried very, very hard to stare at his own mouth. All it did was make his eyes ache. He wondered why he still didn’t feel all that worried. “Sleeping helped and what you’re doing feels good.”
“Good.” Spike seemed to return his attention to the television, although his hand never stopped moving. “Are you still tired?”
This time he wasn’t going to wait for his mouth to go on auto-pilot. “No, not really. I feel comfortable.” I feel better than just comfortable. I feel like everything is right in the world now, and whatever happens I know that—that Spike will take care of me. Oh, fuck.
Xander frantically began cataloguing every ache or pain in his body. Sore arms, burning in my calf from where I pulled it yesterday, various cuts and scraps from being a Slayerette, a headache that Spike is getting rid of, and a possibly broken toe, but nothing new and unusual. So I haven’t been bitten. Doesn’t explain why my constant companion is quiet after two years of bugging me to fling myself at Spike. Um. I didn’t fling myself at Spike, right?
“Um, Spike?” The vampire tilted his head towards Xander without moving his eyes from the screen. “How did you get untied?”
“You untied me.”
“I did. Okay. Do you know why I untied you?” There has to be a rational explanation. Ooh! It could be a spell—yeah, Willow may have done something because she’s always messing around and it usually backfires, especially on me—I am not a demon magnet, thank you! It’s a spell, or a curse, or some kind of—
“I asked you to.”
Fuck. Again. Notice the creativity of my vocabulary when the world drops out from under me. “You asked me to.”
“I asked you to strip, too, pet.”
Which would explain why I’m naked. “And I did what you asked me to.” Xander’s voice was flat. It was pretty obvious that he had done just that. It wasn’t worth questioning what else Spike had asked him to do, he didn’t want to know. All he did want to know was why Spike was telling him.
“Yup, you did. Unzip me an’ pull me out.”
Please be a dream, please be a dream, please be a dream, please be a dream.
Xander watched in morbid fascination as he rolled onto his side, reached out and unzipped the faded black jeans Spike habitually wore. His hand looked sickly in the light from the television as he burrowed it into those same faded jeans.
I’m holding Spike’s cock.
It was flaccid in his hand, even more pale than Spike’s ivory complexion. “Stroke it. Gentle, like. Get used to it.” Xander found himself lightly running his hand over the length of it, knowing he was teasing Spike but curious about the differences. He’d never seen another man’s dick in real life, and certainly never touched one. I am not gay. I’m not!
It was longer than his own, but thinner. And Spike had foreskin. Xander rubbed the extra skin, fascinated by the way it moved around the darkening head. Making a loose fist, Xander pushed the extra skin up higher, and then slowly fisted it back down, exposing the tip completely. Spike groaned, making Xander flush in confused pleasure.
He rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself closer so that he could bring his other hand up as well. Trailing his fingers over the shaft, Xander tried to memorize every bump and crevice. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to—
No, dammit, I am a man! I mean, okay, men do this with other men and that’s fine if that’s what they want to do, but I do not want to! I don’t! So why am I trying to figure out how he’ll fit in my mouth?
One hand swept up, the other down, tracing along the vein underneath and stroking up over the curling foreskin to the head. Something wet, lukewarm, and sticky soaked into the pads of his fingers.
I wanna wake up now. Please?
“Good boy,” Spike said calmly when Xander twitched back like he’d been burned. “You’re doin’ just fine, precious. Keep going.”
Yes, sir, of course sir, he snarked inside his head, hands returning to the steadily leaking cock before him. He wasn’t sure why the precum had startled him so much—it wasn’t like he’d never touched the stuff before. Oh, no, my hand has a very intimate relationship with precum. Even after I started dating Anya. It had just been so cold against him, where he had been expecting body-warmed.
“Put your mouth around the tip, pet.” He’d gotten into a rhythm, smearing the precum around so that the entire length was glistening. He was amazed to feel it pump and twitch faintly under his ministrations, the way a living person’s cock would dance to a blood-pressure beat.
He was so involved in what he was doing, that he didn’t even register Spike’s words until he found himself lying on his stomach, half in Spike’s lap, curling his lips so that he created a seal around the head.
It tasted salty against his tongue, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. A vaguely coppery taste offset the bitterness he’d expected from tasting his own precum, and it was creamier, too. I’m sucking Spike’s dick. I’m sucking him because he told me to.
And I’m hard.
Even as he began to suck on the slightly springy head, using his tongue in a poor imitation of the magic Anya created, Xander felt tears sting in his eyes. Yes, he had always been curious about what homosexual sex was like—most men were, whether they admitted it or not. Yes, he had to admit that Spike was incredibly hot and that he was attracted to the blonde vampire.
But how much of either of those things was because of him, Xander, and how much was the beast? What had Spike done to him, that he was fondling and sucking another man’s—a vampire’s!—cock without even a hint of protest? Was he getting hard because of the beast, or because of Spike? Was he really enjoying the feel of Spike’s cock in his mouth, or was whatever had been done to him manipulating his body’s reactions?
Will I like it when he rapes me?
“Shh, precious.” Long, cool fingers slipped into his hair, sliding over his neck and down his spine. Gentling, soothing. Like you would calm a frightened animal. That’s all I am to him, Xander realized as something cold and hard twisted in his stomach. An animal. A pet. His pet.
“Sweet boy, good boy with the warm, wet mouth. Relax for me, pet. I’m not hurtin’ you, precious. Know I’m not, ’cause there’s no light show in m’ head. Relax, pet. I’ll make it good for you. Just be a good boy for me, be my good boy. Lift up, that’s it. Put your hands there, yesss, good boy, jus’ like that. Tell me you’re my good boy.”
“I’m a good boy.” The words were barely audible to himself, but Spike’s special effort to rub at the base of Xander’s spine told him that Spike had heard just fine.
“You’re my good boy.”
“Your good boy.”
“My good boy.”
“Your good boy.”
“Take my jeans off.”
What—what happened? Xander asked himself while he did as he was told. One second he had been mentally shredding himself into ribbons, and the next—I’m a good boy. The thought was proud, more so as he looked at Spike’s now very hard erection. I did that. I’m a good boy. I made him hard. I made him thrust like that, when my wrist brushed his dick when I pulled his pants down. I’m making him happy. He wants me to make him happy. He wants me to make him cum.
“Better now, pet?” There was a hint of concern in the question, but Xander too lost in giddy amazement to hear it. “Yeah, you are now, precious. You’re a good boy.”
“I’m your good boy.”
“You’re my good boy,” Spike agreed, his hand slipping further down Xander’s back, over the rounded flesh to gently stroke across the back of Xander’s balls. Xander moaned at the touch, spreading his legs wider to give Spike better access. Good boys get good treats, he thought crazily.
“You like this, pet? You like me touching you like this?” While his pinky and ring finger continuing to stroke, Spike moved his forefinger up the dark crevice to rub around the entrance to Xander’s body.
Xander moaned loudly, burying his face in Spike’s thigh. Good—good—good boys. Good boy. I’m a good boy. . .please. . .I’m good—I’ll be good—pleasepleasetakemeclaimme!
“Shh, pet. ’M not gonna hurt you. Told you before, gonna make this good. Gonna make you want it, pet, make you need it. I don’t want th’ unwilling.” There was a hint of iron in that deep, sexy voice that made Xander’s hair stand on end. Something very serious lay underneath those words, something that would take more than the puddle of brains that sloshed inside Xander’s head to understand. All he could really tell was that it was very old and very painful.
Spike wasn’t supposed to hurt. Xander was supposed to make Spike happy—he was a good boy! Good boys make people happy.
Xander may not have known what to do, but whatever had taken control of his mind and body did. He nuzzled into Spike’s balls, kissing and licking at the sac, rolling the balls themselves around with his nose. He sucked on one ball, then the other, trying to fit both of them in his mouth at the same time. He couldn’t, but Spike didn’t seem to mind his trying—especially when Xander whimpered into the sensitive skin.
“Ahhh, luv, do that again. . .!”
Rocking under Spike’s ministrations, Xander moaned and whimpered as he lapped at the dark hair covering Spike’s groin. He was making Spike happy! He was a good boy! He licked and sucked his way up the long shaft, again taking the head into his mouth and sucking, hard.
“Pet, pet, stop a bit.” Xander looked up and whined around the flesh in his mouth, making Spike gasp and thrust up. “No, stop!” Immediately, he backed off, continuing to whine in confusion and hurt. But. . . I’m a good boy. I’m a good—
“Sh, pet, it’s all right.” Spike was there, caressing Xander’s now exposed chest and stomach. “You are a good boy,” he annunciated clearly, looking into Xander’s eyes. “Y’did nothing wrong, pet. I just don’t want t’ cum yet, and if you kept doin’ that, I would.”
Oh. So he was making Spike too happy? I’m a good boy? He whined again, tentatively questioning. Spike froze, looking startled, but began petting again when Xander tried to shrink back. “Did nothing wrong. Bein’ a good, good boy, precious. So good, pet.”
I’m a good boy! At least, that’s what he was trying to say in his head. What came out was more of a rumbling sound. Again, blue eyes widened but he was distracted by cool fingers circling his nipples, pinching them lightly. He yipped in surprise, then moaned again as the heat went straight to his cock. He was leaking a huge amount of precum now, but there was no danger of cumming too soon, not for Xander. Good boys make others happy. Good boys get treats only if they make others happy. I’m a good boy.
“Good boys like to learn things, pet. Do you want to learn from me?” Xander nodded happily, panting and whimpering as Spike played with his nipples. “I’m going to teach you how to make me happy. Gonna teach you how to be a very good boy.”
I’m a good boy. Good boys learn how to please, because good boys make people happy.
“Wrap your hand around the base of my dick. Good boy. Now, luv, pinch it. Hard. Yesss, that’s it, precious.”
Good boys know how to stop the pack-leader from cumming too soon. Good boys want to make the pleasure last as long as pack-leader wants.
“I know the demon-girl has gone down on you before.” Xander nodded excitedly, growling and whining at the same time. He was twitching with eagerness. “You ever given head to a bloke before? Right, you ever done anything with a bloke before?”
Good boys don’t stray! Good boys belong to the pack-leader. Xander shook his head back and forth wildly, tentatively growling in offense.
“All right, don’t get upset, boy.” Instantly, Xander was staring at the bed, motionless. Spike began playing with his hair. “So you’re a complete virgin when it comes to blokes? Lovely.” Spike’s smirk made Xander give a rumbling yip and rub his face into Spike’s groin in supplication.
“All right, easy, pet. Start licking me.” Under Spike’s direction, Xander licked, sucked and nibbled at all the places Spike liked best. “Good boy. Gonna make me cum like that, you are. Mm, harder boy. God, that’s good.”
Xander tried not to wince as the head of Spike’s cock hit the back of his throat. Spike said that good boys didn’t gag. “I know this is hard, pet, but you can do it. That’s right, relax your muscles. Good boy. That’s it, let me in. Oh, god, you’re so warm and tight. . .”
Soon Xander’s nose was buried in pubic hair, his lips at the base of Spike’s cock. All the way in. All the way home. He inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the scent. This was where he belonged. This was where he was supposed to be, forever. This was what being a good boy meant.
“Christ! Again!” He did it once more, but Spike made him back off before he could do it a third time. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he instructed in a gasping voice, “but—oh, yes, again. Make me cum, pet. I’m not gonna do anythin’, not even move. You make me cum.”
Xander moaned as Spike’s words made him get impossibly harder. Finding a rhythm he liked, Xander bobbed up and down, sucking hard. He swallowed whenever Spike was in deep enough, squeezing with his big, warm hands whenever he wasn’t. He swirled his tongue along every one of Spike’s hot-spots until—
“Suck it, boy, suck it hard, make me cum. . .!”
Spike’s voice hitched on the last word and Xander knew. He swallowed once more and then backed off until only the head was in his mouth. Then he sucked as hard as he could, jacking the shaft fiercely. Spike went deathly silent and began to shoot into Xander’s mouth.
I’m a good boy, I’m a good boy, I’m a good boy! Xander swallowed every drop, whining in pleasure as he relished the taste of his pack-leader: coppery, like the precum, but so much thicker and sweeter. He rolled the last bit of it around his tongue, wanting to savor that taste forever.
Rumbling contentedly, Xander used short, hard sweeps of his tongue to clean Spike once he was soft again. He felt a peace like he had never known before settle over his body, centered around what was in his belly.
He had pack, again. He had a pack-leader. He was claimed.
Licking and kissing his way up Spike’s chest, the deepest part of Xander roared in pleasure. True, it had been hoping for a different sort of claim, but it was not resentful. Pack-leader had the right to choose, and right now the euphoria of being claimed was more important than what kind. I’m a good boy, Xander thought sleepily. I am pack-brother.
Spike was whispering as he gathered the boy close to his chest. Telling him what a good boy he was, how perfect he was, how precious and wonderful. Xander snuggled deeper, reveling in the contact offered. Suddenly Spike broke off mid-sentence to laugh.
“Well, well what do we have here?” Xander blinked into Spike’s leering expression. “Do you want to cum, pet? Tell me.”
For a split second, he was unsure what to do. Only pack-leader could give him release—then he understood. “Please,” he begged hoarsely. “Please, let me cum, p—Spike. It hurts so much, please. I need it.”
“You beg prettily, boy.” A forefinger was pressed against Xander’s lips and he dutifully sucked it into his mouth. He swirled his tongue in patterns recently used for something bigger, bobbing his head up and down with a whimper of pleasure.
“You’re so hard for me, pet,” Spike whispered, his other hand stroking lightly along the rigid shaft. Xander’s whimper turned into a muted scream, his entire body jerking under that gentle touch. “Yes, you hurt for me, don’t you, boy? An’ not a whisper from this bloody chip. Gonna make you scream for me, luv. You need me, pet, need my touch on you, in you. Gonna play with you, precious, tease and use you.” Xander sucked harder, trying to communicate his agreement. “You’ve been a very good boy, and good boys get rewarded. Get on your hands and knees.”
Xander whined at the loss of the fingers, but instantly did as Spike asked. “Wanna see that pretty pussy of yours. Wish I could take you there, pet. Wish I could slam into you, ride you hard and long. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pet? Yes, you want me in you, in your pretty pussy. You want me to take you, push my way in deep.”
Spike took the wet digits and ran them up and down Xander’s opening, chuckling at how it convulsed in time with his words. “Good boy, such a pretty boy. I’d take you if I could, luv, but first times always hurt. An’ I doubt the sodding chip they shoved up my head knows the difference. Oh, I could hurt you, pet, could make you scream so nice. Push down, now.” One finger slowly eased its way into Xander’s body.
Xander’s shoulders dropped, pushing his ass back against Spike’s hand. “Yes, boy, you want this. Want me inside of you, moving like this. Tell me, pretty boy. Tell me how much you want me.”
This time Xander hesitated as he tried to change moans, whimpers, and screams into coherent words. “W-want you,” he gasped out. He felt Spike kneel beside his bent body, running his free hand up and down Xander’s spine. “F-fuck me. Please fuck me. Use me to c-cum. Please!” Xander screamed out, blue sparks blinding him as a place deep inside him was pressed. “Oh, god, please, Spike!”
“Are you a good boy?”
“’M a good boy! Your boy, your good boy! Ob—obedient.” He was panting harshly, gasping for enough breath to speak. His body rocked back and forth violently under the pressure of Spike’s finger-fuck. Little bursts of light were flashing before his eyes every time Spike brushed against something he’d never believed existed. It felt so good. “G-good boys are o-obedient boys.”
“Yes, you are a good boy. Cum, now!”
Xander threw back his head and howled, his entire body pulsing as he came hard into the sheets. Spike held him while he shook and kept him up when his body went totally limp. Xander struggled to hold himself up long enough for Spike to stretch out on the dry half of the bed, then crawled over to become a living blanket. He sighed, nuzzling his face into Spike’s neck.
Inside his head, the beast snarled and howled in fierce pleasure, finally claimed.