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for Robin |
Part 91 |
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Xander was asleep on the sofa; Spike knelt alongside and
touched his face, stroking the back of his index finger over a “Huh?” as Xander stirred. “Go to bed.” “I’m awake.” “Go to bed, it’s late.” Xander struggled to a sitting position, trying to focus on
Spike. “What… You’re…umm…” “Going out for a bit.” “Can’t you stay in…for a bit?” “Not tonight, no,” Spike replied with a smile and a kiss. “But I’m waking up, we can…” “Not tonight.” “Something nasty to kill?” Xander asked with a yawn. “Exceptionally nasty.” “Angel better appreciate this.” Pulling Spike onto his lap, Xander buried his
face in the vampire’s neck. “Gonna be
safe though?” “Nothing to worry about.
Just going to kick some arse and have a good time.” “Taking Henry?” “Hamish. Yup.” “Henry. I might wait
up a while.” “No, you won’t,” Spike said very deliberately. “You have to stop trying to work your hours
around mine, all that’s happening is you’re getting more and more tired.” “It’s just been a hard week, y’know, getting ready for a
handover, usually…” “Stop it. Stop
arguing. Go to bed and get some sleep.” “But…” “I’ll wake you up when I get in, how’s that?” “Is it…” Xander started then stopped. Spike manoeuvred them until he could see Xander’s face. “Is it what, love?” “I’m sorry.” Spike foiled Xander’s plans to bury his face and hide again. “No, not ‘sorry’, tell me what you’re thinking.” “Is it…selfish of me to want things as they were? We spent so much time together it’s kinda
hard not having that.” With a smile, Spike cuddled close to Xander, dragging his
fingers through the human’s hair. “Just let me get rid of this nasty and I’ll be all yours
again.” “But that’s no good, you shouldn’t have to…” “Oh, shut up, whinger. Goes like this, right: Spike does his duty,
gets his kicks, comes home horny, wakes up the Consort, declares undying love,
nice shag ensues. Sounds pretty good to
me, what’s your problem?” “I miss you.” “After tonight I’ll be home more. Until the next spot of scheduled violence.” “I don’t expect you to stay in for me. I’m happy that you can go out now, I’m happy
for you, just…like I said, selfish.” “Look forward to the weekend.” “What’s happening?” “Us,” Spike promised, and kissed Xander quiet. The sofa dipped under Hamish’s mass and the dog began his
regular snuffling, checking out his pack and making Xander squirm as a cold
nose, followed swiftly by a long tongue, found his neck. “Nyah! No, off, down,
stop, desist…” The thump of a wagging tail and Xander managed to shove a
Spike-shaped barrier between himself and Hamish. “Right, we off then?” Spike asked the dog, climbing from
Xander’s lap and fetching his coat, pulling on the duster and automatically
patting his pockets for non-existent cigarettes and lighter, existent Xander
picture that still went everywhere with him. Hamish began to follow, stretching languidly before shaking
himself so hard his feet left the floor.
Xander scratched a dishevelled haunch with his toes and Hamish gave him
that uncanny smile before loping off to the garage door to wait for Spike. Xander trailed behind. “Be careful.” “Will do. Go to bed.” “I’m awake now.” “Do something for me then?” “Sure.” “Write my song.”
Xander let himself be squashed against the wall and kissed. “Please.” “It’s gonna be crap.
It was. Crap.” “Maybe, but it was my
crap. I want my crappy song.” “Okay,” Xander smiled indulgently, “you want a crappy song,
how can I say no?” “Piano will be here Monday week.” “Great. Then I can add
crap music to my crap words. Is it the
same as the other one?” “Pretty much. Bit
more ornate because it was the only one they had ready to ship.” “Ornate?” “Not much. Bit of
mother of pearl inlay.” “Okay.” “You don’t want to know how much it cost?” “Not interested. Just
warn me when we’re down to our last twenty-thou so I can bat my eyelashes at
Pat.” “Do you know how much I love…your money?” “Our money,”
Xander insisted with a laugh. “Love our money.” “I bought us a guitar too while I was on the site.” “But neither of us…” “It was that or the drum kit.” “I’m so cool with
a guitar.” “Write my song.”
Spike kissed Xander goodbye and headed for the door. “Get some sleep.” “Have a good night.” “Cheers, mate, I’ll do my best.” “Be safe,” Xander whispered as the door closed behind the
vampire. Xander had lied: he did have a copy of the song he’d written
for Spike, and he went into the study and called it up on the computer, sighing
as he re-read lyrics that gave crap a bad name. “Select all. Delete,”
he narrated his actions before thinking afresh.
“What do I want to say about Spike…?” … It was light before Spike returned, and as he and Hamish
climbed out of the Jag into the shade of the garage, the access door was hurled
open and he found himself the subject of a crushing embrace. “Where the hell have you been?” “Out. You knew…” “The sun’s up, Spike, the fucking sun is up!” “Look at me, I’m fine.” “But I didn’t know you were, I didn’t know, and your phone
is off…” “Bugger, sorry, forgot about that.” “Forgot about me,” Xander accused, considering whether to
release his hold for as long as it took to deliver a well-deserved thump to his
thoughtless vampire. “Never,” Spike assured him adamantly. “Never.” A hard kiss and Xander relented over the thump. “I was scared,” Xander confessed the obvious. “I’m here. I’m
fine. We’re fine.” Spike’s hands found their way inside Xander’s jacket,
pulling his shirt from the waistband of his pants and slipping beneath to knead
the warm flesh. “Don’t start anything.” “You’re joking. Plan
of action: stage one, killing; stage two, canoodling; stage three…” “I have to go to work.” “No!” Spike protested, holding Xander against him, pressing
his hips forward and grinding his confined erection against his partner. “Want you, love. I need you.” “I have to go, you know it’s a heavy week.” “An hour,” Spike attempted to negotiate. “I have to go. I
don’t want to but…” Spike was kissing him again, pushing him onto the Jag’s
hood, wriggling a hand between them in an attempt to rouse Xander’s interest. “I need you, Xander,” Spike groaned into his neck. “You should have thought of that before – oh, fuck, don’t do
that, I love that – you
should’ve… Wha…what was I… Will you stop!” Xander managed to push Spike away and lay back, panting and
glaring with equal parts lust and irritation at the equally breathy vampire. “Half-an-hour?” Xander stood and began tucking his shirt back in. “I have to go. I
appreciate that the fighting and the killing has left you this horny, but your
timing is appalling. Tonight, okay?” “Come home for lunch.” “Meetings all day.” “Fifteen minutes?”
Spike was up close again, hands cupping Xander’s face as he kissed him,
tenderly now. “Please, love? Please.” “That’s the word we should have banned,” Xander said with a
voice that perfectly matched his scowl. “Please,” again. Xander grabbed Spike’s wrist and drew him into the house,
pushing him against the hall wall and dropping to his knees, cursing the
buttons on Spike’s fly as the vampire watched, slack-jawed with desire. “Take longer than three minutes and…” “Three minutes, yes, not a problem, c‘mon, Xan, yes,” and a
further, “yes,” hissed as Xander wrapped his mouth around the vampire’s rigid
cock the moment it was physically accessible, sucking and working the head hard
enough to leave this highly aroused Spike trembling and moaning within seconds,
let alone minutes. A harsh raking of
teeth over taut flesh concluded the encounter, Spike writhing against the
restraining pressure of Xander’s hands as he attempted to fuck himself into
Xander’s gullet as he came. Panting with the exertion, buzzing with pleasure, he barely
noticed Xander kiss him and dash back to the hallway to collect his briefcase
and the pile of files that now seemed to accompany him everywhere. The sound of a car in the drive roused Spike:
it wasn’t Jake’s and that made him immediately suspicious. “Xander?” sharply. “I’ve got one foot out the door, Spike, what now? Full body massage?” Spike smiled at the humour in Xander’s harassed voice. “Who is it? Who are
you going with?” “Rafe.” Spike relaxed, that was better than Jake. “Is he driving because you’re drinking?” Xander reappeared, struggling to balance what he was
carrying under one arm so he could take Spike’s hand. “Maybe. At the
reception. Not too much, I promise.” “It’s okay, love, just curious.” Xander nodded self-consciously, then leant in
for a quick kiss. Which became a long
kiss. Spike could taste himself in
Xander’s mouth and his slaughter-induced horniness returned with a
vengeance. “Try not to be too late
tonight.” “I’ll do my best. And
I won’t be drunk,” Xander assured him. Beep of a horn and Xander was regretfully hurrying away. “Take care,” Spike called after him. “Yeah, and feed Henry.” “Hamish. He’s already
eaten.” “Oh, God, I bet I don’t want to know.” The front door banged shut behind Xander’s departing back
and Spike closed his eyes, slumped against the wall and let out a massive
sigh. It’d been a good night: a
fulfilling measure of terrorism and some highly satisfactory killing. All he’d wanted was a few hours in bed with
Xander to exploit the rush he’d experienced. “I told him to go back to work,” Spike grouchily told Hamish
as the tip-tap of claws on wood and the eee-eee-eee of Mr Squeaky announced his
arrival. “Must’ve been sodding insane.” “Eee-eee-eee.” “Yeah. I knew that’s
what you’d say.” Spike emptied a few blood bags and went off to bed, finally
weary, hanging onto the dog’s scruff and letting himself be dragged up the
stairs. Switching the blanket on, he
climbed into Xander’s side and snuggled into the evocatively scented pillow,
purring contentedly as he fell asleep with a head full of plans for the night
to come, and lulled by the sound of Hamish’s wheezing snores. … Spike slept for a few hours and woke up restless, still
hyped after the night’s killing and yearning for Xander. He rose, made himself useful, went through
the entire house cleaning and tidying, trying to make sure that there was
nothing to distract a returning Xander from him. He knew that if Xander wasn’t too wound up to
eat during the day the food would be insubstantial or junk, so he cooked too,
and for the first time in months he didn’t bother to think up counter-arguments
to Xander’s expected protestations as to why he shouldn’t. He wanted to spoil his human and that was the
end of it. In the same vein he called up
the chocolate shop and paid an exorbitant price to have a selection of Xander’s
favourite treats couriered to the house. This felt good, taking care of Xander. In whatever capacity – be it tearing the
heads off threatening vampires or preparing him a wholesome meal. Taking care of Xander felt good and right,
and Spike felt good and right too.
Xander deserved a little – well, actually, a lot – of pampering after
all he’d been through, and the thought of making his partner happy filled Spike
with contentment. Albeit horny
contentment. Still, a couple of hours
and Xander would be home, fed, showered, and appreciating a healthy dose of
skin-on-skin relaxation with the vampire who adored him. Spike happily chatted away to Hamish, having conveniently
forgotten yet again to check whether he was a lost dog even though there was a
large notice on the refrigerator asking him to do so, and he told the attentive
listener about his past with Xander, the weirdness that surrounded them in the
present, and his hopes for the future.
Not too far into the future, because that didn’t bear thinking about,
but he wanted to see some of the country with Xander, maybe even show him a bit
of the world, and he needed to know they could walk away from this life, even
if it was only for a few months, but Hamish wasn’t to worry about that: they
had friends who would house and spoil him in his pack’s absence. After Spike showered he spent a long time standing naked in
front of the mirror, examining himself.
He looked clean. He checked what
were the wound sites meticulously, every one he could remember, and they were
clean. In fact they were all gone, but
they were all gone cleanly. And that made sense to him if nobody
else. He felt clean. Amazingly he could still sense Xander’s
claiming fluids inside him, or he imagined he still could, and that was good
enough for him. Xander inside him. The words had other connotations and he
watched in the mirror as his cock became rigid.
Wank or wait? he debated,
settling for thinking about sex with
Xander and laughing to himself as he cursed the day his human had ever put thinking into his head. He dressed in clothes that he knew Xander loved him in:
Xander loving him in them usually ensured he was out of them as rapidly as
possible. The silvery–blue shirt that
had been one of Xander’s favourites from the moment it was bought, and a pair of
pants that Moira had bought Xander for Christmas. For Xander, but in Spike’s size. They were dark blue, as fitted as his
tightest jeans, and made from velvet.
Xander couldn’t keep his hands off of Spike when he was wearing them,
frequently touching and teasing Spike until he came in them. None of that tonight though. Enough of a grope to set the mood, a little
restraint, then it was skin all the way. As he preened he caught sight of the frame on his bedside
cabinet: the picture of Xander that Patrick had given him. Turning from reflection to reality he crossed
and picked it up, gently touching the smooth glass of Xander’s cheek. Breath that he didn’t have was whipped away
by a surge of immense love, and it was followed by an equally powerful rush of
regret at certain…acts he’d recently committed.
He mourned the loss of complete honesty between them, and he ached as he
considered the possibility of Xander finding out how weak he was; Xander would
forgive him anything, but he wouldn’t forgive him everything. Downstairs the CD player moved on to a new disc, and the
schmaltzy sound of Burt Bacharach emerged.
Spike took it as a good omen, and he let the sweet words lure him back
to the here and now, singing softly to the picture and feeling the need to see
Xander again growing in urgency with every note. … Spike watched the clock’s hands crawl around the face,
picked up the phone, didn’t use it, put down the phone, repeated ad infinitum. “I’m going to take him up on his offer. It was a while ago but he didn’t say it had a
shelf life. ‘Xander, you’re going to
stop work, stay home and fuck around with me for a minimum of twelve hours a
day,’ I’ll tell him. Sounds good to me.” Hamish sighed and stared at the front door as
Spike paced, accelerating with his impatience.
“He can have all Patrick’s money without any questions asked, and we’ll
live here behind barricades so none of the bloody family – his, mine, or ours –
can get at us. We can go out at nights
and kill things… Don’t look so bloody
hopeful, dog, not now. Now is… Fuck, fuck, fuck! Xander will you sodding-well come home this
minute!” Almost miraculously timed, there came the sound of a distant
engine, and two sets of ears homed in.
Spike had the sudden urge to check that everything was perfect, couldn’t
decide where to start, and simply ended up turning agitated circles on the
spot. When he finally made up his mind,
he just had time to run to the bedroom, check himself out in the mirror – bloody gorgeous – and get back to the
front door, throwing it open in anticipation as the car drew up. Spike stepped into the glow of the house’s security lights
and wandered to the driver’s side of the dark green Merc, waiting for the
window to open before exchanging warm greetings with Rafe. Xander struggled out with his briefcase,
files, and now several blueprints, looking appealingly to Spike for assistance
and gratefully handing over everything that was about to collapse his left
arm. A few more words and Rafe was
driving away as they entered the hallway, filling the table to overflowing. “Hello, lovely,” Spike said when they were unloaded. His smile turned to concern at Xander’s
woebegone expression, and he took the wilting human into his arms. “You okay?”
Before Xander had a chance to answer, Spike was frowning at a surfeit of
radiating heat and putting a much-appreciated cold hand on Xander’s
forehead. “Brain about to explode?” he
asked sympathetically. “Uh-huh.” “Pig of a day?” “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Spike kissed Xander sympathetically, trying to ignore the fucknowfucknowfucknow advice his body
was volunteering. “Hungry?” “Tired, and my head is killing me. Just want to go to bed and sleep for a week.” Fighting back his disappointment, Spike peeled Xander’s coat
away and watched him plod toward the staircase.
Decision swiftly made, Spike dropped the coat and picked up the human,
carrying him up to their room, not entirely sure he was still awake when they
got there. … Spike poured himself another large scotch and studied the bottle’s
label for the fiftieth time. Something
Patrick had given them, made on the Staring at the clock he deliberated over disturbing
Xander. Usually if he came home with a
bad head he’d sleep for an hour and wake up well enough to eat and keep Spike
company. Tonight he’d slept past the
hour, two, three now, and Spike was grumpy and lonely and desperate for sex
after allowing himself to slowly burn with lust all day long. Too
much bloody thinking. One glimpse,
one whiff, of Xander’s body as he’d
put him to bed and Spike was hard, and he’d stayed that way ever since, hoping
his lover would wake and put an end to his frustration. Still too much thinking now.
Fixated would be the word of choice, Spike decided, as he thought about
Xander’s mouth, and the way it had felt on his cock that morning, the way it
had tasted of his come when Xander had kissed him goodbye. He thought about Xander’s too-strong body, and the way he’d
lock his elbows under Spike’s knees, hold him against the wall and fuck him
senseless, just like your average human shouldn’t be able to. He thought about Xander’s body flexing and twisting and hips
rising as he was ridden to orgasm, whispering or groaning or sobbing or
shouting Spike’s name depending on how long he’d been forced to wait and how
much energy Spike used in ending the waiting. He thought about Xander’s body. He thought about Xander’s mouth. He thought about Xander. Spike squirmed in his seat.
Much more thinking and he
wouldn’t need Xander’s help to mess up his pants. Hamish uncurled from his place at Spike’s restless feet,
yawned, stretched, yawned, shook himself, and strolled toward the
conservatory. Spike followed and opened
the door for him, watching as the dog trotted across the expanse of lawn and
disappeared into the woods. Damned association.
Everywhere Spike looked: garden, and they were naked at Spike went back to his bottle. Living room, and they were…everywhere. On the sofa and on the floor and in the
armchair and over the dresser, Xander sucking him, taking him, emptying his
balls into Spike’s throat or body as… A low groan filled the silence as Spike pressed the heel of
his hand against the erection that threatened to batter its way out of its
velvet confines and go looking for its own fun if Spike wasn’t prepared to
offer a little relief. But he wanted Xander. Xander. Via the kitchen for a bottle of water and up the stairs four
at a time, standing at the foot of the bed and inhaling his lover. Five minutes and Xander was stirring, as
ever, under Spike’s scrutiny. Bottle on
the bedside cabinet and Spike gave up on Xander appreciating the clothes,
stripping out of them with little care, losing a button from the shirt in his
impatience. Listening to his own
breathing turning to lusty panting and being turned on by that, as if he needed
anything more to arouse him. He crawled onto the bed and pushed the covers back from
Xander’s torso, settling on the semi-naked form and feeling hot skin react to
cold. “Wake up, Xan. C’mon,
love, I need you.” He nuzzled into the
crook of Xander’s neck. “Please. Darling Xander.” “Darling, huh?” Xander chuckled sleepily. “You must want it so bad.” “Want you.” Spike started a slow grind against the body beneath him,
moaning quietly in his throat as hands that knew just where to touch,
touched. For a whole minute before
Xander started to drift off again. “Can I take you up on this morning’s offer? The full body massage? Y’know, that massage you do with your full
body?” “Mmm,” Xander possibly agreed. “You feel okay?” “I guess. Sleepy.” “Wake up,” Spike urged.
“Wake up, love.” “Hmm…yeah.
Just…sleepy.” “C’mon, Xan, I need you, I’m desperate.” “’Kay.” “Not ‘kay, Xander, you’re going to wake up for me.” “’Kay.” “You want me then?” “I always want you.
Can’t believe you’re this gorgeous and you’re mine.” “Believe it.” “And you want me?” Xander asked with a relaxed smile as his
eyes belligerently refused to stay open. “I want you, Xander,” Spike assured him earnestly. “Xander…?” “Mmm?” “Need you, love, need to fuck you. Xander.
I’m going to fuck you.” “Mmm?” Spike took Xander’s face in his hand and turned it, tapping
the cheek until Xander’s eyes opened and met his. “I am going to…
Make. Love. To you.” Xander knew he was still asleep, because he thought Spike
had said… He was… And…
No. “You…?” “Let me be inside you.” Xander pulled in a gasp at the reality of this dream, even
to the buffeting as Spike groped under the pillows, searching for a tube of
lubricant. “Spike?” “Time, Xan, it’s time, don’t say no, please, don’t say no.” The covers disappeared and Xander’s legs were eased open,
and moments later he was gasping again as a cold slick finger pressed at him,
into him. Possibly asleep and desperate
to be awake and for this to be real, Xander felt his cock filling and
hardening, the one part of him that seemed quite convinced about the truth of
this encounter. “Spike, wait, just… Oh…” Another finger, ploughing, stretching, and Xander had to be
awake, and he reached out, pulling Spike to him, prepared to forgo the pleasure
of Spike’s ministrations simply to get this into his head. “Love, let me…” “Again, say it again,” Xander demanded, voice quaking with
desire and the tiniest amount of fear. Spike met Xander’s gaze, body as still as he could manage
while breathing so heavily. “I’m going to make love to you.” Xander blinked, ran over that, reversed, and ran over it
again. “I am awake?” Spike nodded,
brow crinkling in concern. “Really?” “I want to be in you.” “Why now?” Xander asked, suddenly giggling at the
irrelevance of his stupid question. “Look at you,” Spike told him roughly, “look at you and dare
ask me again.” Then fingers were probing and brushing against the hot spot
inside Xander, and he couldn’t help but moan as his body revolted against his
mind, curling up into Spike’s touch, not caring about the whys or wherefores,
just wanting. The mind fought back, unhappy at the strange
sense of isolation, and… “If you don’t kiss me it’ll just be a fuck.” …came from who-knows-where but Spike got that and, despite
the manic sense of urgency, the fact that he was almost coming just from
thinking he could do this, he forced himself to slow down, look at Xander, look
at his most exquisite, perfect, scarred
Xander. Xander was fully awake now and,
despite being nervous, his expression assured Spike that he was truly
desired. And loved. Especially loved. The need to share his own love coursed through Spike, and he
whispered of it, promised it, let it shine in his eyes before allowing his
mouth to find Xander’s, and he hoped that it was in the very way he tasted
tonight. Taking his time now, with more
tender words and plentiful kisses, Spike waited until he knew he’d be dust if
he didn’t show his need, finally moving his fingers inside Xander again. Eager hands stroked over him and found their way to his
velvet-over-granite cock, fingers sliding in the river of pre-come, threatening
to bring him to orgasm before he jerked his hips away. “Are you going to?” Xander asked once again, smiling now
with the most lecherous smile Spike had ever witnessed from the man. “You going to do it?” “Do it. Do you. Gonna do you,” Spike grinned, and Xander almost
laughed but the laugh shattered as a third finger squirmed into him. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, ohfuck. Yes, Spike, yes.” “Tell me you want me.” “You know… Yes, I
want you, I want you so much, I’ve wanted you forever, Spike, forever. Oh, fuck!” Xander squirmed away from Spike’s hand. “I’ll come,” Xander assured him. “The minute you’re inside me. I’m so—
Oh, fuck, Spike, ready, I’m ready.
Want you so much. Please, now, pleasepleaseplease.” One more deep kiss and Spike settled between Xander’s thighs,
running his hands over muscles that twitched in anticipation, before taking up
the lubricant and liberally slicking his cock, almost bringing himself off in
the process. “Buggering hell,” he cursed through clenched teeth. “You too?” “Bloody right. Should’ve had a wank first, taken the edge
off.” “You really are the last of the romantics, Spike.” The sudden explosion of giggles released some of the tension
and calmed them; Spike shuffled into place, lining up the tip of his cock with
Xander’s opening. He paused. Xander groaned. Their eyes met. “I’m clean.” “Yes.” “And I am worthy,” Spike promised Xander, quietly but with
evident self-belief that made Xander’s heart swell with pride. “You were always worthy, sweetheart.” Spike pressed forward, gradually and carefully opening
Xander to him, using just a little force to breach muscles that Xander was
trying his best to relax. A sharp
inhalation broke the virtual silence as Xander felt Spike enter him, followed
by a babbled string of demands for more, more, more. Spike gave him a little more. Holding Xander’s hips, he continued to ease
himself inside his lover, slowly and gently, determined that Xander wouldn’t
experience pain for even a moment. “Okay?” he asked, paying close attention to every breath and
twitch. “Yes, yes, okay,” Xander promised. “Yes, good, more, yes, please, Spike, please,
yes.” Satisfied that Xander was comfortable and determined to keep
him that way, Spike loosened his hold, stroking Xander’s belly and thighs but
carefully avoiding his erection. He
stared down at where they were joined and shuddered in lustful appreciation. “What?” Xander panted.
“What’s wrong?” “Nothing, love.
It’s…us. Seeing us. Me inside you. It’s…” Xander’s body gave an involuntary jerk, forcing himself
further onto Spike’s cock and they both released senseless exclamations. “Fuck me, Spike.
Leave the poetry for later, huh?” Xander said breathlessly as he tried
to push down and found Spike’s hands holding him still once again. “We’re taking this slowly, I won’t hurt you.” “You think I believed all that shit you came out with?” Spike’s head snapped up to meet his
gaze. “I never believed it. You don’t want to hurt me. You never want to, I know that.” Xander smiled and wriggled within the
immovable grasp. “And you won’t hurt me
now, sweetheart, I’m tough, and I want you and…
Oh, fuck, please, Spike,
just…” Spike’s movement took Xander’s words. He crawled over Xander’s body and sank down,
meeting the now-still lips with his own; as they kissed he slid the rest of the
way into Xander’s body. Xander tore his
mouth away to gulp in oxygen, overwhelmed by the sensation and the
knowledge. It was one thing to lose a
virginity, it was entirely another to have it taken. “Okay?” Spike asked again, tensely now. “Wonderful,” Xander answered with a sudden, brief laugh,
pulling Spike into another kiss.
“Wonderful,” whispered against Spike’s lips. “I love you, Xander.” “Mmm…” Spike began to
move his hips, gently, gently probing Xander’s heat, feeling Xander’s hands
skimming over his body to encourage him.
“Mmmmore.” Raising himself to his elbows, Spike drew back and put a
little more force into the next thrust, drawing a lovely Xander-sex noise from
his partner. So he did it again. Once more and Xander was clutching at him,
keeping him still. Now it was Spike’s
turn to wriggle against a controlling hold. “Ah, ah, no! Don’t
move. If you move I’ll come.” “So you’ll just have to bloody-well come, won’t you?” Spike
taunted with a provocative grin. “I want to come with you.” “Yeah? Try and hang
on for about…ten seconds then.” The thought of Spike coming inside him was too much for
Xander, and he bucked onto the vampire’s cock as his orgasm tore through him;
the sensation of Xander’s muscles spasming around him was Spike’s undoing and,
fighting to keep some kind of control and not pound his lover into the
mattress, he almost shook himself apart as he came ferociously hard. He collapsed into Xander’s embrace, and they lay together,
heaving in ragged breaths. There was a
subdued chuckle before Xander eventually spoke. “For a momentous occasion…” “Yeah. Pretty crap,
wasn’t it?” Spike finished, and after a beat of silence they broke into howls
of laughter. “Not crap,” Xander protested when he had the breath. “We were just a little…excited.” “I’m useless,” Spike admitted in a fresh burst of
laughter. “Absolutely bloody useless.” Xander guffawed and Spike rested his forehead on Xander’s
breastbone, jolted by the strength of Xander’s inhalations and laughing at that
too. Eventually he looked up, slowly, so
slowly, and their eyes met. The laughter
faded. Spike’s eyes were brimming with
tears. “Mine. My Xander.” “Your Xander,” Xander agreed softly, wallowing in the
powerful rush of feelings. “Your
Consort.” Spike blinked and tears spilled, dropping onto Xander’s
chest. “Eternity,” Spike whispered, voice rough with the strength
of his emotions. “What is?” “How long I’ve waited for you.” Deliberately, seductively,
Xander began to move against him, feeling the cock buried inside him swell to
new rigidity. Straight-faced, intense
gaze fixed on Xander, Spike moved too; Xander nodded in encouragement, catching
his breath as Spike slid out and in, deep, so deep, and it’s exactly what he
wanted, but better than he ever dreamed of.
In, out, Spike’s hips rolling, and the vampire was touching him
everywhere inside, seeking out every last scrap of his virginity and rubbing it
away with that gloriously possessive cock.
Finally. Xander wanted to scream triumphantly. And there would be time for that. Soon.
But now he opened his legs further, welcoming his lover, his claimant,
his Master. Spike’s eyes were glazed by immeasurable
pleasure as he stroked into Xander’s tightness, making the tiniest little
grunts when he got as deep as he liked, and he liked deep. Deep, deeper with
every other stroke, taken and claimed, and the thought of being fucked that
entirely made Xander jerk his body onto Spike and earn himself a gasped… “Oh, yes, love, yes.” …so he fucked back at Spike, watching the fire in his
lover’s eyes as the rhythm threatened to become something wild and furious. “Don’t hold back, Spike.
Don’t. Give me it all.” They both understood, but although Spike would fuck like a
demon, he refused to allow that
façade to replace the more acceptable mask of humanity, not this time. Spike fucked like a demon: graceful, powerful, demanding,
hips snapping against Xander as he thrust and withdrew at preternatural speed,
giving and taking and soon aware of Xander’s cock jabbing against the skin of
his belly like a hot poker. He slowed
and his hand slipped between them to clasp the rigid member, but Xander
anxiously tugged his arm away. “Say it,” Xander pleaded.
“Do it.” “Xander. Love,” Spike
groaned, and whispered a rush of words in a language that Xander failed to
understand but guessed it was about the claiming, a formal claiming, and he was
fighting to stay in control until he heard the version he actually understood. “Can’t wait,” he forced through clenched teeth. “I claim you, Xander.
Consort.” More sharp thrusts,
punctuating Spike’s words, and Xander felt his brain dissolve, preceding his
body into meltdown. “My. Consort.
My. Very. Own.
Darling.” An exultant roar from Spike, and Xander was yelling just as
loudly as Spike writhed against him, jabbing and poking and seeking that
elusive depth, finally satisfied that he possessed Xander and allowing himself
release, feeling the spatter of Xander’s semen across his skin as his own spurted
deeply inside his lover’s body. “I claim you, I claim you, I claim you,” frantically
repeated to a point of nothing.
Xander shushed and cradled Spike as he finally slumped,
exhausted and drained both physically and emotionally. After a few minutes the vampire allowed
himself to be moved, and he smiled to himself as he was turned onto his side
and Xander snuggled up behind him, arm tightly around his waist. “I love you, Spike.
You are so…mine.” “Never doubt it. I
love you, Xander. Consort.” “Consort,” Xander repeated with sleepy satisfaction, feeling
whole and happy and thoroughly, thoroughly shagged. “You want me to call you Master now?” “Seriously?” Spike considered. “No.
You have no master, and I admire that.” “How about not
seriously? How about when we’re
playing?” Spike felt his cock stir.
Sleep versus sex. Tricky. He didn’t want to send Xander to work in a
state of exhaustion, but neither did he want to disappoint the new Consort. “Maybe. When we’re
playing. But…” “You like that then?”
Xander’s inquisitive hand discovered Spike’s renewed interest. “When we’re here?” Xander teased the vampire’s cock to hardness. “So…
Want me to call you master?” “D’know, love. You
want to get any sleep tonight?” Spike’s arousal was far too tempting to ignore in favour of
sleep. Xander nuzzled his way to his
mark, intent on helping himself to a little vampiric pick-me-up. His teeth grazed over the skin and Spike curled
back into Xander’s firm embrace, waiting for the bite, waiting for one provocative
word… “Master.”
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