Shush

 

 

The wonderful thing about not having to breathe was the options it presented.  Xander slid the long, thick dildo into Spike’s mouth, loving the way his eyes grew wide with anticipation, dilating until there was only a hint of blue rimming dark, fathomless black.

“You would’ve loved it,” Xander murmured, tugging the cloth-wrapped metal chains—couldn’t let anyone know, oh, no, not what they were doing—to make sure they were still tight.  “We should try and find that magic wand Thoth used, because then you could have two of me.”  Spike’s chest was heaving, breath coming out in short, violent bursts, nostrils flared to their widest point.  “One to be here,” Xander moved the dildo in and out a few times, stifling his own groan as he saw Spike’s tongue move in ways he knew were good.  His slid his body around Spike’s prone one, still moving the fake cock with one hand and lining up with the other.  “And one to be here.”

Spike squeaked around his plastic gag, unprepared for Xander to lunge forward, impaling the vampire in one smooth thrust.

“Shut up,” Xander panted, forcing himself to stay still.  “Remember?  That was the deal, Spike.  No noise equals sex.  Noise equals no sex.”

Dead silence except for the harsh panting.  The walls we so thin here.  Xander listened hard for the sounds of six girls quietly breathing, the newest arrivals Buffy had refused to house, unsure whether he wanted them to be awake or not.  When seconds ticked by into a full minute, muscles began to clamp and release, clamp and release. . .

“Oh, fuck, Spike, that’s so fucking good.”

The noise equals no sex rule should have applied to Xander, too, but they’d discovered that the girls thought Xander talked in his sleep, so the breathless whispers he let forth with a torrent of heated obscenity were allowed.  It was hotter when only one of them spoke, too.  Which was not actually the reason Spike was bound in magically-enhanced chains, although neither of them were against taking advantage of it.

“Imagine it,” Xander whispered, cuddling his larger body closer to Spike’s.  They were both lying on their sides in Xander’s big bed, Spike’s hands bound in front of him with his fingers hobbled so that he couldn’t manipulate anything.  “Two of me, Spike.  Think you could fit both of us here?”  Hard, sharp thrust; Spike choking as his breathing rhythm was disrupted.

Xander loved to make the vampire choke.

“He’d wanna fuck you as much as I do, too, you know.  So you could swallow me down and do that thing with your tongue, while you squeeze me—ah, god!—tight.  Fuck, Spike, I can’t fuck you when you do that!”

That had been another condition because as naive as most of the Slayers in Training seemed to be, a rhythmically creaking bed was not something they’d misunderstand.  No matter how hard either of them wanted it, slow and steady was all they were allowed.

“Suck it, Spike,” he commanded in a low voice.  “Suck it like it was me.”  Xander grabbed Spike’s hair, yanking his head back and away so the long, pale column of his throat was exposed, muscles moving and bunching in ways he’d always wanted to see when it was his cock in that mouth.  Twisting his elbow underneath himself, he lifted his torso up, balancing on his hip, trying to see Spike’s face.  See the way Spike’s eyes rolled back to watch him, eyes white and shining in the dim light.  He looked like a wild animal like that, panicked and frightened and desperate.  So very desperate.

Carefully, Xander began to thrust into flesh so tight that he could hardly pull out let alone push back inside.  “You like that?” he gasped into Spike’s ear, gripping his short blond hair and tugging even harder.  “Tell me when,” he instructed.  “Tell me when I’ve got it.  And keep sucking!”  He had to concentrate on keeping his voice quiet.

Spike nodded, eyes even wider with frantic need to please.  Their hips shifted unconsciously, until Xander found the right angle and Spike went rigid, eyes open the widest they could go and Xander knew that if it wasn’t for the gag that blocked most of the vampire’s air, he’d be screaming.

“Just like that.  Two of us, Spike.  First me, making sure I hit right here,” Spike forced out a quiet whimper, already pleading with blue-black eyes for the sound not to count, “then him, searching to find it.  Or him, down your throat so all you can do is whimper like that.  Do it again.”

Spike repeated the noise, more a whine than a whimper.  Reaching around, Xander grabbed the base of the dildo, watching Spike’s jaw work as he moved it back and forth, mirroring the real thing as it slid between slim cheeks.

Burying his face in hair that smelled like sandalwood, remembering the argument that had prompted Spike to purchase this specific shampoo, Xander sped up his thrusts a tiny bit, releasing the dildo to grab onto a narrow hip.  “Think about both of us here.  Spreading you open so fucking wide.  Would you like that, Spike?  Or would you want one of us back in your mouth.  Your dirty, filthy mouth, full of me.  Think both of us could fit there?”

Tears were dripping down Spike’s skin, features screwed up in intense concentration as he focused on the gag down his throat, the cock up his ass, and the hand yanking on his hair.  His erection was creating a dark stain on Xander’s sheets, but neither of them made any move to touch it.  That was part of the game.

“God, Spike, I wanna hear you.  You talk dirty so much better than me.”

That prompted a vicious squeeze of preternaturally strong muscles, desperate eyes forming a glare Xander had come to know far more intimately than he ever thought he could.  A low growl built up around the gag, slim hips starting to work—but so gently the bed barely moved.

“Okay, okay,” he started, then broke off into wordless moaning at another squeeze.  “Fuck, Spike, you do that and I’m not—shit!  Okay.  I. . . I wanna see you like that.  Stretched out between us, stuck like a pig on a spit.  I wanna push inside you so hard that I can feel myself from the other end.  And you’d love it, wouldn’t you?”  An extra hard shove made the glare melt away, the growl changing into that breathless, forlorn whine.  “Can’t get enough of me, can you?  I’m gonna ride you and fuck you and use  you until you can’t walk tomorrow and no one’s gonna have a clue that you loved every fucking second of it.”

Spike jerked once, body arching impossibly as he came all over the bed.

Incredibly tight muscles clamped down even tighter, squeezing Xander’s cock in a vise so tight it hurt.  His balls were screaming for release, but he waited until he heard that one, quiet, aching moan and, as his hips sped up and the bed did creak, dammit, Xander bit down hard on Spike’s neck.

When they could both see again, Xander pushed himself up on his elbow to see the damage they’d done.  “Wow,” he commented, “three times?  I thought only girls had multiple orgasms.”

Beetle-black eyebrows lowered in a face Xander recognized instantly as ‘let me out of this damned gag already or you can sleep in it’.  Chuckling quietly, Xander slid the slippery-wet dildo out of Spike’s mouth and rolled onto his back to put it in the toy-box under the bed.

When he looked up he saw a trace of Spike’s old, wicked grin—the one none of them ever saw, not even after the return of the duster—before his cock was inhaled.  The blow job was slow and wet and delicately careful on his sore bits, more soothing than arousing, cleaning up more than creating more.  But Xander still came, completing the fantasy that Spike had been with two Xander’s that night, his come coating both ends of Spike.

“Alarm set?” Spike asked hoarsely as they clambered out of bed and onto the air mattress on the floor.  It wasn’t the most optimal arrangement, but the air mattress was worse than the bed for noise.  “They might come in—”

“With you here?  Not likely.  Go to sleep, Spike.”  They’d argued about removing the chains, finally deciding that it was easier to explain why a grown man was curled up around the vampire he was supposed to hate then why said vampire was free.  So Spike’s arms were stretched out above his head, chains linked over a hook in the wall.

“G’night, luv.”

Long, slow, sweet kiss.  Xander settled in close, his head pillowed on taut muscles.  “Think I can drop the girls off tomorrow and get back before Buffy notices I’m gone?  Cause I wanna hear you scream.”

Home