The Curse of Spike's Ass 3/?
Title: The Curse of Spike's Ass
Authors: whichclothes and emelye_miller
Chapter:3/?
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 for pr0n and gratuitous D/s.
Disclaimer: We're not Joss
Warnings: None so far.
Summary: Sequel to El Cuento del Bucanero y del Vampiro. Image by the fabulous sentine.
Previous parts here.
The Curse of Spike's Ass
Chapitre Trois
It wasn’t a long story. It was pretty much down to a beer bong full of tequila in the parking lot of Señor Frogs.
He’d stupidly made one half wistful comment about Spring Break and his missing of the whole debauched lifestyle of the college educated, and Spike decided to overcompensate. As usual.
And so there they were, drinking death-defying levels of fermented agave through a PVC hose while a bunch of wasted college kids cheered them on. There was probably music. There was definitely dancing. They were kind of hazy on the details after that point, but they did remember when it was time to crawl to shelter that they had a hell of a time convincing the three girls they’d been dancing with that their company was unnecessary. Admittedly, it was a bit of a mixed message to blow them off while sticking his tongue down their throats, so Xander could understand the confusion.
At the time he’d though their witchy cursing was kind of cute.
Angel was trying to cop a feel of Spike’s ass again.
It wasn’t so cute anymore.
Xander grabbed Angel’s wrist and slammed him against the wall. “The next time it touches him, it comes off. Do you understand?”
Angel swallowed hard, and nodded. Xander released him.
Spike stood by the desk, panting quietly. “That was bloody hot, Xander,” he whispered as Xander took up a position at Spike’s side to fight off any and all comers.
Xander blinked and turned to Wesley. “So how do we find our Girls Gone Wild and put a stop to this?”
Wesley shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “Right, well, a simple scrying spell should suffice providing their spell left a magical signature-”
“Do you need us for that?” Xander asked brusquely as Spike’s fingers began tracing the waistband of his jeans.
Wesley and Angel’s eyes both dilated at the sight of Spike grinding into Xander’s hip. “No, no, I think we’ll be fine here. You should probably take Spike somewhere out of the way until this clears up,” Wesley answered hoarsely as Angel slipped an arm around his waist.
“Right. Let us know how it works out,” he said, taking Spike’s hand and dragging him, bodily from the room.
Two hours later, they were set up in a warded and spelled suite, Spike essentially jailed until the spell lifted and his ass was no longer a danger to himself or others. Xander’s erection strained against the front of his jeans as he paced back and forth in front of Spike.
“Didn’t seem to mind Angel touching you very much. Wesley either, for that matter,” Xander muttered lowly.
“Told you Xan, it’s this spell. Can’t help it, can I?”
Xander’s head whipped around to find Spike looking penitently at him through his eyelashes, the beginnings of a smile curling the edges of his mouth.
Xander grinned evilly.
Getting kinky with a vampire, was so much fun. And yeah, a little bit of a cliché. But sometimes clichés were good. Especially when it meant you were boinking someone with inhuman flexibility, no inhibitions and a limitless imagination.
Like right then, Xander could tell Spike was imagining him being masterful. Spike liked it when Xander got masterful.
Xander could do masterful. Xander stopped smiling.
“Take your clothes off,” Xander commanded. “Go kneel on the bed. Spread your knees, put your hands behind your back. Look at me.” Spike complied. Xander grinned at the sight of his lover flushed and hard for him. He took two of Spike’s fingers in his mouth and began to lave them with his tongue until Spike was whining with need.
“That’s right, you need this don’t you, need to be filled, need me to fill you…” Xander chanted, hands trailing over Spike’s chest, his legs. Spike moaned. Xander stripped and began fisting himself roughly. “I want you to think about what I’m going to do to you when the curse is gone. Touch yourself, Spike.”
Spike’s fingers began circling his opening as his other hand found the moisture on the head of his cock and began to spread it around before starting a slow stroke. Xander moaned at the sight and spread his stance wider, his other hand caressing his balls as his fist tightened around the base of his cock.
Spike’s fingers pumped in and out of his hole as Xander watched. “That’s me fucking you,” Xander told him. Spike bit his lip and sped up his pace. “Can you feel me? How hard you make me? How hot I am inside you?”
“Xan,” Spike whimpered, pulling his cock desperately. “Please, Xan, touch me.”
Xander rode the edge of his own pleasure, felt his balls drawing up with every needy little sound Spike made as he franticly fucked himself on his fingers.
“Please,” Spike begged. He was visibly shaking, his cock purple and leaking steadily.
Xander closed the distance between them and leaned over. As he placed a single teasingly chaste kiss on Spike’s lips he erupted beneath him with a muffled scream. Xander shuddered and came, ropes of white painting Spike’s bare chest and mingling with his own explosive release.
They collapsed bonelessly onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and tired laughter.
Three floors below Angel pounded into Wesley. Books and artifacts were scattered on the floor around them, swept off the desk in haste. Only moments after Spike and Xander left the room Wesley was bent over the desk with his trousers around his ankles with barely enough presence of mind to incant the spell that would broadcast the goings on in the suite above into the study below.
In the lobby, the others reacted with varying degrees of surprise when the shouting began. Fred and Giles heard Angel’s name screamed often enough in that tone to know better than to go near the office. They blushed and took their research to the kitchen. Gunn and Buffy kept sparring with only a moment’s pause to roll their eyes.
Wesley and Angel were sprawled over the furniture when Xander began to snore. Wesley ended the spell with a lazy sweep of his hand through the salt circle on the bookshelf.
“I suppose I should probably see about finding those witches,” he said with little enthusiasm. Angel grunted agreeably. Wesley peeled himself off the wooden chair, slipped on his trousers and quickly assembled the spell on the desk. A blank parchment scroll lay beside the incense burner, waiting to be filled with directions to the door of the culprits. “Stessi a stessi,” he incanted. A few red sparks shot out of the censor and a sad puff of smoke. The page remained blank. “Damn.”
“What? It didn’t work?” Angel asked.
“Apparently.”
Angel frowned. “Please, tell me we’re not going to Mexico. I can’t afford another trip to Mexico.”
“It appears we have no choice but to-”
“-Please don’t make me do this-”
“-go to Mexico and try our luck at finding the witches there.”
“-Son of a bitch,” said Angel feelingly.
Wesley smiled sympathetically. “On the up side, Spike and Xander are most likely asleep. If we pack now, we could take the Viper.”
There was more Angelus than Angel in the answering grin.
Wesley shivered and mentally calculated the logistics of negotiating the car’s gearshift while giving road head.
Authors: whichclothes and emelye_miller
Chapter:3/?
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 for pr0n and gratuitous D/s.
Disclaimer: We're not Joss
Warnings: None so far.
Summary: Sequel to El Cuento del Bucanero y del Vampiro. Image by the fabulous sentine.
Previous parts here.
The Curse of Spike's Ass
Chapitre Trois
It wasn’t a long story. It was pretty much down to a beer bong full of tequila in the parking lot of Señor Frogs.
He’d stupidly made one half wistful comment about Spring Break and his missing of the whole debauched lifestyle of the college educated, and Spike decided to overcompensate. As usual.
And so there they were, drinking death-defying levels of fermented agave through a PVC hose while a bunch of wasted college kids cheered them on. There was probably music. There was definitely dancing. They were kind of hazy on the details after that point, but they did remember when it was time to crawl to shelter that they had a hell of a time convincing the three girls they’d been dancing with that their company was unnecessary. Admittedly, it was a bit of a mixed message to blow them off while sticking his tongue down their throats, so Xander could understand the confusion.
At the time he’d though their witchy cursing was kind of cute.
Angel was trying to cop a feel of Spike’s ass again.
It wasn’t so cute anymore.
Xander grabbed Angel’s wrist and slammed him against the wall. “The next time it touches him, it comes off. Do you understand?”
Angel swallowed hard, and nodded. Xander released him.
Spike stood by the desk, panting quietly. “That was bloody hot, Xander,” he whispered as Xander took up a position at Spike’s side to fight off any and all comers.
Xander blinked and turned to Wesley. “So how do we find our Girls Gone Wild and put a stop to this?”
Wesley shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “Right, well, a simple scrying spell should suffice providing their spell left a magical signature-”
“Do you need us for that?” Xander asked brusquely as Spike’s fingers began tracing the waistband of his jeans.
Wesley and Angel’s eyes both dilated at the sight of Spike grinding into Xander’s hip. “No, no, I think we’ll be fine here. You should probably take Spike somewhere out of the way until this clears up,” Wesley answered hoarsely as Angel slipped an arm around his waist.
“Right. Let us know how it works out,” he said, taking Spike’s hand and dragging him, bodily from the room.
Two hours later, they were set up in a warded and spelled suite, Spike essentially jailed until the spell lifted and his ass was no longer a danger to himself or others. Xander’s erection strained against the front of his jeans as he paced back and forth in front of Spike.
“Didn’t seem to mind Angel touching you very much. Wesley either, for that matter,” Xander muttered lowly.
“Told you Xan, it’s this spell. Can’t help it, can I?”
Xander’s head whipped around to find Spike looking penitently at him through his eyelashes, the beginnings of a smile curling the edges of his mouth.
Xander grinned evilly.
Getting kinky with a vampire, was so much fun. And yeah, a little bit of a cliché. But sometimes clichés were good. Especially when it meant you were boinking someone with inhuman flexibility, no inhibitions and a limitless imagination.
Like right then, Xander could tell Spike was imagining him being masterful. Spike liked it when Xander got masterful.
Xander could do masterful. Xander stopped smiling.
“Take your clothes off,” Xander commanded. “Go kneel on the bed. Spread your knees, put your hands behind your back. Look at me.” Spike complied. Xander grinned at the sight of his lover flushed and hard for him. He took two of Spike’s fingers in his mouth and began to lave them with his tongue until Spike was whining with need.
“That’s right, you need this don’t you, need to be filled, need me to fill you…” Xander chanted, hands trailing over Spike’s chest, his legs. Spike moaned. Xander stripped and began fisting himself roughly. “I want you to think about what I’m going to do to you when the curse is gone. Touch yourself, Spike.”
Spike’s fingers began circling his opening as his other hand found the moisture on the head of his cock and began to spread it around before starting a slow stroke. Xander moaned at the sight and spread his stance wider, his other hand caressing his balls as his fist tightened around the base of his cock.
Spike’s fingers pumped in and out of his hole as Xander watched. “That’s me fucking you,” Xander told him. Spike bit his lip and sped up his pace. “Can you feel me? How hard you make me? How hot I am inside you?”
“Xan,” Spike whimpered, pulling his cock desperately. “Please, Xan, touch me.”
Xander rode the edge of his own pleasure, felt his balls drawing up with every needy little sound Spike made as he franticly fucked himself on his fingers.
“Please,” Spike begged. He was visibly shaking, his cock purple and leaking steadily.
Xander closed the distance between them and leaned over. As he placed a single teasingly chaste kiss on Spike’s lips he erupted beneath him with a muffled scream. Xander shuddered and came, ropes of white painting Spike’s bare chest and mingling with his own explosive release.
They collapsed bonelessly onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and tired laughter.
Three floors below Angel pounded into Wesley. Books and artifacts were scattered on the floor around them, swept off the desk in haste. Only moments after Spike and Xander left the room Wesley was bent over the desk with his trousers around his ankles with barely enough presence of mind to incant the spell that would broadcast the goings on in the suite above into the study below.
In the lobby, the others reacted with varying degrees of surprise when the shouting began. Fred and Giles heard Angel’s name screamed often enough in that tone to know better than to go near the office. They blushed and took their research to the kitchen. Gunn and Buffy kept sparring with only a moment’s pause to roll their eyes.
Wesley and Angel were sprawled over the furniture when Xander began to snore. Wesley ended the spell with a lazy sweep of his hand through the salt circle on the bookshelf.
“I suppose I should probably see about finding those witches,” he said with little enthusiasm. Angel grunted agreeably. Wesley peeled himself off the wooden chair, slipped on his trousers and quickly assembled the spell on the desk. A blank parchment scroll lay beside the incense burner, waiting to be filled with directions to the door of the culprits. “Stessi a stessi,” he incanted. A few red sparks shot out of the censor and a sad puff of smoke. The page remained blank. “Damn.”
“What? It didn’t work?” Angel asked.
“Apparently.”
Angel frowned. “Please, tell me we’re not going to Mexico. I can’t afford another trip to Mexico.”
“It appears we have no choice but to-”
“-Please don’t make me do this-”
“-go to Mexico and try our luck at finding the witches there.”
“-Son of a bitch,” said Angel feelingly.
Wesley smiled sympathetically. “On the up side, Spike and Xander are most likely asleep. If we pack now, we could take the Viper.”
There was more Angelus than Angel in the answering grin.
Wesley shivered and mentally calculated the logistics of negotiating the car’s gearshift while giving road head.