Fic: Intimacy
Title: Intimacy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Robin/Spike
Warnings: Explicit sex and a lot of booze. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.
Word count: 3,331 words
Summary: Immediately after talking to Buffy in LMPTM, Robin goes to a bar to drink away his frustration. Instead, he runs into the very source of his frustration and ends up having another go at the vampire.
Author's note: As promised, folks! This is actually my first explicit slash fic. It's not PWP, by any means, though. My ultimate goal is to show how interesting and hot Robin/Spike can be. Enjoy! :)
The workshop was locked down. Robin didn't know if he'd bother to repair it. Seemed pointless. He'd met his mother's murderer. And he'd lost.
That had been a loss, hadn't it? It was hard to tell now that the haze of the anger-fueled fight had died. Robin found he wasn't sure what he had accomplished besides a swollen eye and a stinging bite wound. Buffy had told him that he was seeking vengeance against a guy that didn't exist anymore. Robin couldn't believe that was true. The soul may hide him. Shield him. But the monster was still inside.
"The mission is what matters."
Maybe to Buffy, but Robin didn't have that mission. His mission was getting revenge for his mother's death. Well, that had been his mission for most of his life. What to do if that mission were gone?
Robin normally didn't frequent bars. Wasn't his type of scene. He preferred the trendy coffee lounges with the light jazz music and poetry readings and pretentious clientele. Bars were too rough. Too much booze, not enough discussion.
However, he was sporting bruises and scars from the fight. It felt more like a bar night than a coffee night.
"What's good on tap?" he asked the bartender as he sidled onto one of the bar stools. The guy took a look at his wounds and raised his eyebrows. Probably thought Robin was a thug or something. He got that a lot, even without the bruises. Never mind the designer suit jacket he'd had the presence of mind to change into before going out. Nope. Big and black. Must be a gangsta.
"Wouldn't recommend any of the bile they have on tap, mate," an unwanted voice sounded from the side. "Want I could order you a round of something decent."
Robin found himself able to meet Spike's eyes easily enough, but tamping down on the rising fury was more difficult. To see the vampire so casually drinking at the bar, burn marks still etched on his cheek. His mother's jacket hung around him like a fucking trophy. In a human bar, even, not some demon dive where he surely belonged.
"You want to buy me a drink?" Robin kept his voice level. The bartender fidgeted impatiently while waiting for a drink order.
Spike nodded. "Hit him with a Rochefort, Dave."
Robin looked straight ahead so he wouldn't have to see his mother's murderer. "You gonna give that coat back?"
"Why? Bit of a finders keepers deal, I imagine."
The bartender, Dave, returned with a bottle of some Belgian beer. Robin took an experimental swig. Wasn't bad. Should've guessed a centuries old vampire would have good tastes in beer.
"It's my mother's." Robin said, still not looking at the vampire.
"Was. We battled. She lost. To the victor goes the coat."
"You're not even sorry, are you?"
Spike shifted in his seat, accidentally kicking Robin's stool in the process. Robin had to turn to look at him. He didn't want to, but he had to.
He wanted Spike to look cocky or arrogant, but he didn't. Instead, he looked pensive. And a little bit drunk. "You know what I'm sorry for? The day before that, while I was in New York, my lady was getting antsy so I hunted up a nice high school girl for her. Grabbed her from her campus after some Yank football game. Took her home to Dru. Trussed her up. Then helped Dru rip her apart before draining all the blood in her body." Spike closed his eyes and grimaced. "Took her ten hours to die. Drusilla liked to keep them alive for a long while. She liked the noises they made."
Spike tipped his head back to take a drink. Robin was mesmerized by the movement of his Adam's apple, so prominent along the delicate line of his neck.
"I think back to that girl - whose name I don't even bloody know - but I think back to her, and I feel beyond sorry. I feel like burning the demon out of me in penance." Spike met his eyes. "Not so with your mum, though. See, that high school girl was an innocent. Didn't do no one any harm. Your mum, though, was a warrior through and through. She lived to fight against my kind. When I killed that little girl, it was murder. When I killed your mum...it was victory."
"That's what your soul tells you?" Robin's voice shook despite his efforts to calm it.
"My soul doesn't say a sodding thing. This is me saying it. You might as well ask if a soldier feels guilty when killing enemy combatants. Slayers fighting vampires...s'all part of the job."
It was Robin's turn to take a drink. The neon beer signs reflected in the liquor bottles behind the bar. Square bottles, round bottles, tall bottles, short bottles. The light shined through each just a bit differently.
"You're a bit of a righteous prick, you know that?" Robin said without looking at the vampire.
"S'pose I am."
"Just because you murdered a couple Slayers, you think you know all there is to know about them."
"Being with a person in their most intimate moment qualifies me, I'd imagine."
Robin laughed. "'Intimate'? What, their death? 'Intimate' is seeing them get fired from their job at the bank because they've been up all night saving the world and can't get into work in the morning. Or it's being with them when their boyfriend ditches them cause he can't handle 'the Slaying thing'. You saw a couple Slayers' last breath? Try waking up from nightmares about fanged monsters to have one hold and rock you back to sleep. You may know about Slayers' deaths, but I know about their lives. Which one is more important to you?"
A silence fell over the two, revealing the cacophony of standard bar sounds: glasses clinking, other patrons laughing and chatting, a jukebox playing too loudly.
Finally, Spike filled the pause: "You know what goes great with this ale? Buffalo wings. What you fancy splitting with me?"
****
Two hours later...
Silence hung more heavily in the back of the bar. The speakers were further away and the din of yelled drink orders was muffled through the layers of quieter conversations. Spike and Robin's conversation added to the layers, though their table was not one of the quieter ones. The waitress kept having to check back to bus the emptied beer bottles and discarded buffalo wings baskets.
Robin couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so smashed.
He also couldn't remember what time he was supposed to be in to work tomorrow.
Okay, he could remember the last time he'd gotten so drunk. Junior year at college. His girlfriend had insisted on going to a kegger to get him to "relax" before finals. He'd relaxed, alright. Nearly ended up flunking the entire semester as a result. It was only through strenuous negotiations with his professors that he'd passed.
Alcohol was a great freeing agent.
"There's another Slayer? How's that work?" Robin leaned forward to contrast Spike's sprawled, laid-back posture.
Spike waved a hand. "Something about Buffy dying a little and the line going on. Surprised you didn't hear 'bout it, Slayer Jr."
"Hey, not like they have a Slayer Monthly news report or anything. Once my Watcher died, I didn't hear nothing from the Council." Robin frowned at his grammar. He knew something was wrong with that sentence, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. "What are you doing hanging around here, anyway? Are you and Buffy...?"
"Fuck if I even know." Spike shrugged. "Never know where I stand with the Slayer. I was in the school basement going absolutely barmy. Guess this is a step up."
"Wait, you were in my school basement?"
"Yeah," Spike said through a giggle. "You could've marched your ass down and staked me anytime, too. I probably would have painted a target over my heart for you."
Robin pounded a fist on the table enough to make all the bottles jump. "You're shitting me!"
"Nope."
Robin laughed. "I knew strange things were going on down there..."
"Should've sent one of your office aids to take a look-see." Spike smirked. "And I gotta say, a principal? How establishmentary can you get?"
"Okay, points for actually using a big word, but I gotta mark you down because you just made it up."
"Shakespeare made up words."
"Right. You're a real poet."
****
Thirty minutes later...
"You took my beer," Robin said as Spike snatched his bottle.
A long gulp. That bobbing Adam's apple again. Robin's eyes wandered down to Spike's obviously muscular chest under his tight shirt. God, how much had he had to drink?
****
Fifteen minutes later...
"And then she made this...this chain from paper clips and strung them up all over her cubicle. Then she added post-it notes and white-out to the decorations and it's about at that point that I sent her home. I remember thinking, this is the Slayer? Cause...wow..."
"Yeah, she's deceptive like that. Looks like an airhead, but when your defenses are down, she'll strike at you." Spike nodded in an exaggerated, drunken manner.
"Don't know about the striking. But she did threaten to let you kill me."
"Did she? 'Atta girl!" Spike paused. "I mean, wait. What do I mean?"
Robin reached over and tugged at the leather sleeve of his mother's coat. "You're gonna give this to me."
Spike snorted. "Right, I am. Have yourself another drink, mate."
****
Ten minutes later...
Spike's breath was on his neck for the second time that night.
"See that? Right there. See?" Robin pointed at where he knew the scar was.
"Ah...yeah. Yeah, I see that." Spike fell back against his chair. "That was a lady vamp. Tiny fangs."
"Thirteen. Crowley, my Watcher, took me out to patrol for the first time. Just tossed me a stake and expected me to figure it out on my own. Thought I was gonna die when the vamp pounced on me, but he dusted it at the last minute."
"Fucking Watchers. Arrogant pricks, the lot of them."
Robin raised his bottle only to find it was empty already. That was a shame. "Not all bad. Crowley was alright. Just a fan of throwing the baby bird out of the nest."
"Appropriate metaphor for a bloke named 'Robin'." Spike raised an eyebrow.
Robin laughed.
****
Five minutes later...
"God, I fucking hate you," Robin slurred as he rested his head against his elbow on the table.
Spike grinned.
****
Robin's tongue explored the inside of Spike's mouth. It tasted like danger and death and, well, beer. Actually, more of the beer than the death.
They were back outside the workshop, which was the funniest fucking thing in the world. Now, with Spike's hands trailing over his body, Robin could barely remember what conversation had led them back there. Something about testing to see if a broken crucifix would still burn a vampire.
Anything that burned Spike met with his approval. Except now it was him radiating body heat onto Spike's own cool body. That hadn't been on the agenda.
Robin pulled away and put a hand to his face. "Wait, wait. What are we doing?"
Spike was panting, though Robin didn't think he should have been. Vampires didn't need to breathe.
"We're having a tumble. Again. Just a different kind, I suppose," Spike said. "You know, you explore the dark world of vampires that you've grown up enveloped in, yet never breached, and I get a literal taste of the consequences of my past, evil, soulless actions."
That hadn't made a word of sense. Robin was sure it would have been just as nonsensical if he were sober.
Spike sighed. "You're gonna fuck me to pound out your anger and frustration."
Robin nodded. "Got it."
He shoved Spike into the workshop, then, catching the vampire off-guard. Spike gracelessly landed on the ground, the stolen coat pooled around him.
Robin wondered if the multitude of crosses decorating the walls invigorated Spike. It almost felt like he was feeling the effects, somehow. Couldn't be. He was human.
"First," Robin said in a voice he was sure wasn't the least bit slurred. "That coat's coming off."
Spike grinned as Robin leaned down to peel the leather coat off him. Robin's focus was on the vampire, though, and he tossed the coat aside. Then he was on Spike, weighing him down to consume him. Lips smashed together, and Robin roughly yanked Spike's shirt up, eager to get this taken care of.
The kissing was hard enough to bruise, but Robin kissed even harder while his hands worked frantically to get the vampire naked.
Spike angled his head away. "In a rush, principal?"
"Shut up," Robin said, returning his mouth back to Spike's.
The vampire wasn't going to play the passive party, though. He grabbed Robin's hands to still him, using his superior demon strength to overpower Robin's efforts to resist.
"I think," Spike said. "This will be more enjoyable for the both of us if we not rush through it like virginal teenagers."
Robin sat up, straddling Spike's stomach. "Bet you know quite a bit about virginal teenagers."
The cocky grin was gone. "Know a few things."
Robin stripped his own shirt off and then removed his pants, finally releasing his almost-painful erection. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so worked up. It wasn't that Spike was hot. Well, Robin supposed he was in a "man" sort of way, but that didn't usually get him hard. No, it was what Spike meant that excited him. The lifelong fear and loathing, the frustration at not being able to avenge his mother's death. Her life, even, which was ruined by the fucking vampires. Now Robin again straddled a very naked Spike and he knew that he had the upper hand. This vampire was his for the night. It's not what he'd dreamed of every night while growing up, but it would do.
Despite his talk about moving slower, Spike wasted no time grabbing Robin's ass and pulling him up his body. Robin followed and situated his cock at Spike's lips. Spike gave him a deliberate gaze before vamping out, ridged forehead almost hiding yellowed eyes from Robin's angle. Then Robin's cock was enveloped in Spike's demon mouth.
His first instinct was to close his eyes, but he forced himself to keep them open so he could see himself fucking Spike's face. Spike wasn't tentative, but he was careful to keep his fangs from cutting Robin. Robin grunted, hips shoving his cock further in. Spike's cheeks were sucked in as he applied vacuum pressure, tongue roughly swirling around the tip before he jutted his head further to take the whole thing in again.
The sound was fantastic. A primal, slurping noise that always signaled a good, messy blowjob. Robin grabbed the back of Spike's head, angling his body onto his knees so he could thrust harder. Spike didn't need to breathe. It didn't matter if the vampire choked. Spike's hand gripped Robin's balls, squeezing them heavily.
Robin groaned, withdrawing his cock, he lift himself slightly to present his balls to Spike. The vampire eagerly licked them. The demon tongue was rougher than a human's might be, and Robin pumped himself by hand as Spike sucked his balls. Then Spike moved down to the area underneath them.
Robin yanked Spike's head away. "No," he said in between deep breaths. "That's your forte, Spike." There was no way Robin was gonna let the vampire have his ass in any way.
Spike didn't look too perturbed. Instead, he swiped a tongue up Robin's cock as best he could at the angle he was. Robin's eyes narrowed. Spike's lips were so moist, spit glistening on his chin from the face-fucking.
"Keep that face on," Robin said, nodding at Spike's demon features.
Robin sat up enough to flip Spike over, letting a hand trail down the vampire's back in a possessive gesture till he reached the ass. Robin spanked it with a powerful smack. He was pleased to notice Spike jumped slightly and growled.
Robin's fingers began to slowly probe Spike's opening. "I'm guessing a worldly guy like you has taken it up the ass before."
In response, Spike propelled himself back onto Robin's hand, causing his fingers to explore farther.
"Rough as you like, Wood," Spike said.
It was the go-ahead Robin hadn't known he needed. At the last second, he decided to spit into his hand in a weak attempt to lube at least a little. It probably wouldn't help much at all, but it made Robin feel better. Not that he should be concerned about the vampire's well-being, but he didn't want to piss off Buffy by breaking her pseudo-boyfriend's ass.
Then Robin parted Spike's cheeks, pressing his dick into Spike's readied hole. Spike grunted as Robin thrust in with one sharp stabbing motion.
It was the tightest vise Robin'd ever felt. He couldn't control his hips once inside, and he began pumping at a brutal pace. Robin grabbed Spike around the neck and hauled him up so his back was flush against Robin's chest.
"Wanna see your face," Robin said, looking sideways at Spike's demon visage. The vampire's eyes were closed, and his fangs were bared in a grimace. "Like that?" Robin's other hand held tight to Spike's hips. He hoped he'd leave bruises.
Letting Spike's body fall forward slightly for leverage, Robin slammed even harder into the vampire's ass. Their bodies slapped together, a symphony of revenge, regret, loss, and anger. And pleasure. There was pleasure just short of bliss between them in being able to release everything. Spike had grabbed his own cock, tugging on it fiercely. Robin let him. It didn't matter what Spike did. Robin was getting the best of him anyway.
Sweat dripped onto Robin's bruised eye, stinging sharply. At the same time, he felt the tightening in his balls that told him he was close. He gritted his teeth, situating his arm more firmly around Spike's waist, and he looked down to see his cock mercilessly pounding Spike's smaller frame. His breath hitched and his body jerked as he came. His head fell onto Spike's shoulder, and he bit down hard while yelling in fervid release.
It was easily the most mind-blowing orgasm he'd ever had.
Deep breaths later found himself on his side, spooned against Spike's back. His muscles were already aching doubly, and he knew that he would be sore tomorrow.
Spike sat up first, of course. Vampire. Better stamina. The vampire was back in his human face, though, and he looked over his shoulder at Robin with an enigmatic expression.
"What?" Robin asked, feeling defensive.
"That more satisfying for you?"
Robin didn't have an answer.
After a few moments, Spike got up and began getting dressed.
"Nobody hears about this," Robin warned.
"Course not," Spike answered while zipping his jeans. "Don't want word getting out that I was fucked by a principal. Would ruin my reputation."
The black shirt covered flexing chest muscles. Something that shouldn't disappoint Robin, but it did.
Robin gingerly stood up on shaky legs and reached for his pants, as well.
Spike was almost on his way out when he reached down and grabbed the coat, putting it on with a flourish.
Robin didn't know where he found the energy or the speed to reach out and grab Spike's arm, but he did. "You have got to be kidding me."
Spike looked down at Robin's hand gripping the leather tightly. Like a lifeline. Spike sighed. "Buffy needs me to have it right now."
Robin frowned, releasing the coat. "Buffy...?"
The vampire nodded. He glanced down and nodded contritely. "Sorry."
Then Spike turned and left.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Robin/Spike
Warnings: Explicit sex and a lot of booze. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.
Word count: 3,331 words
Summary: Immediately after talking to Buffy in LMPTM, Robin goes to a bar to drink away his frustration. Instead, he runs into the very source of his frustration and ends up having another go at the vampire.
Author's note: As promised, folks! This is actually my first explicit slash fic. It's not PWP, by any means, though. My ultimate goal is to show how interesting and hot Robin/Spike can be. Enjoy! :)
The workshop was locked down. Robin didn't know if he'd bother to repair it. Seemed pointless. He'd met his mother's murderer. And he'd lost.
That had been a loss, hadn't it? It was hard to tell now that the haze of the anger-fueled fight had died. Robin found he wasn't sure what he had accomplished besides a swollen eye and a stinging bite wound. Buffy had told him that he was seeking vengeance against a guy that didn't exist anymore. Robin couldn't believe that was true. The soul may hide him. Shield him. But the monster was still inside.
"The mission is what matters."
Maybe to Buffy, but Robin didn't have that mission. His mission was getting revenge for his mother's death. Well, that had been his mission for most of his life. What to do if that mission were gone?
Robin normally didn't frequent bars. Wasn't his type of scene. He preferred the trendy coffee lounges with the light jazz music and poetry readings and pretentious clientele. Bars were too rough. Too much booze, not enough discussion.
However, he was sporting bruises and scars from the fight. It felt more like a bar night than a coffee night.
"What's good on tap?" he asked the bartender as he sidled onto one of the bar stools. The guy took a look at his wounds and raised his eyebrows. Probably thought Robin was a thug or something. He got that a lot, even without the bruises. Never mind the designer suit jacket he'd had the presence of mind to change into before going out. Nope. Big and black. Must be a gangsta.
"Wouldn't recommend any of the bile they have on tap, mate," an unwanted voice sounded from the side. "Want I could order you a round of something decent."
Robin found himself able to meet Spike's eyes easily enough, but tamping down on the rising fury was more difficult. To see the vampire so casually drinking at the bar, burn marks still etched on his cheek. His mother's jacket hung around him like a fucking trophy. In a human bar, even, not some demon dive where he surely belonged.
"You want to buy me a drink?" Robin kept his voice level. The bartender fidgeted impatiently while waiting for a drink order.
Spike nodded. "Hit him with a Rochefort, Dave."
Robin looked straight ahead so he wouldn't have to see his mother's murderer. "You gonna give that coat back?"
"Why? Bit of a finders keepers deal, I imagine."
The bartender, Dave, returned with a bottle of some Belgian beer. Robin took an experimental swig. Wasn't bad. Should've guessed a centuries old vampire would have good tastes in beer.
"It's my mother's." Robin said, still not looking at the vampire.
"Was. We battled. She lost. To the victor goes the coat."
"You're not even sorry, are you?"
Spike shifted in his seat, accidentally kicking Robin's stool in the process. Robin had to turn to look at him. He didn't want to, but he had to.
He wanted Spike to look cocky or arrogant, but he didn't. Instead, he looked pensive. And a little bit drunk. "You know what I'm sorry for? The day before that, while I was in New York, my lady was getting antsy so I hunted up a nice high school girl for her. Grabbed her from her campus after some Yank football game. Took her home to Dru. Trussed her up. Then helped Dru rip her apart before draining all the blood in her body." Spike closed his eyes and grimaced. "Took her ten hours to die. Drusilla liked to keep them alive for a long while. She liked the noises they made."
Spike tipped his head back to take a drink. Robin was mesmerized by the movement of his Adam's apple, so prominent along the delicate line of his neck.
"I think back to that girl - whose name I don't even bloody know - but I think back to her, and I feel beyond sorry. I feel like burning the demon out of me in penance." Spike met his eyes. "Not so with your mum, though. See, that high school girl was an innocent. Didn't do no one any harm. Your mum, though, was a warrior through and through. She lived to fight against my kind. When I killed that little girl, it was murder. When I killed your mum...it was victory."
"That's what your soul tells you?" Robin's voice shook despite his efforts to calm it.
"My soul doesn't say a sodding thing. This is me saying it. You might as well ask if a soldier feels guilty when killing enemy combatants. Slayers fighting vampires...s'all part of the job."
It was Robin's turn to take a drink. The neon beer signs reflected in the liquor bottles behind the bar. Square bottles, round bottles, tall bottles, short bottles. The light shined through each just a bit differently.
"You're a bit of a righteous prick, you know that?" Robin said without looking at the vampire.
"S'pose I am."
"Just because you murdered a couple Slayers, you think you know all there is to know about them."
"Being with a person in their most intimate moment qualifies me, I'd imagine."
Robin laughed. "'Intimate'? What, their death? 'Intimate' is seeing them get fired from their job at the bank because they've been up all night saving the world and can't get into work in the morning. Or it's being with them when their boyfriend ditches them cause he can't handle 'the Slaying thing'. You saw a couple Slayers' last breath? Try waking up from nightmares about fanged monsters to have one hold and rock you back to sleep. You may know about Slayers' deaths, but I know about their lives. Which one is more important to you?"
A silence fell over the two, revealing the cacophony of standard bar sounds: glasses clinking, other patrons laughing and chatting, a jukebox playing too loudly.
Finally, Spike filled the pause: "You know what goes great with this ale? Buffalo wings. What you fancy splitting with me?"
****
Two hours later...
Silence hung more heavily in the back of the bar. The speakers were further away and the din of yelled drink orders was muffled through the layers of quieter conversations. Spike and Robin's conversation added to the layers, though their table was not one of the quieter ones. The waitress kept having to check back to bus the emptied beer bottles and discarded buffalo wings baskets.
Robin couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so smashed.
He also couldn't remember what time he was supposed to be in to work tomorrow.
Okay, he could remember the last time he'd gotten so drunk. Junior year at college. His girlfriend had insisted on going to a kegger to get him to "relax" before finals. He'd relaxed, alright. Nearly ended up flunking the entire semester as a result. It was only through strenuous negotiations with his professors that he'd passed.
Alcohol was a great freeing agent.
"There's another Slayer? How's that work?" Robin leaned forward to contrast Spike's sprawled, laid-back posture.
Spike waved a hand. "Something about Buffy dying a little and the line going on. Surprised you didn't hear 'bout it, Slayer Jr."
"Hey, not like they have a Slayer Monthly news report or anything. Once my Watcher died, I didn't hear nothing from the Council." Robin frowned at his grammar. He knew something was wrong with that sentence, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. "What are you doing hanging around here, anyway? Are you and Buffy...?"
"Fuck if I even know." Spike shrugged. "Never know where I stand with the Slayer. I was in the school basement going absolutely barmy. Guess this is a step up."
"Wait, you were in my school basement?"
"Yeah," Spike said through a giggle. "You could've marched your ass down and staked me anytime, too. I probably would have painted a target over my heart for you."
Robin pounded a fist on the table enough to make all the bottles jump. "You're shitting me!"
"Nope."
Robin laughed. "I knew strange things were going on down there..."
"Should've sent one of your office aids to take a look-see." Spike smirked. "And I gotta say, a principal? How establishmentary can you get?"
"Okay, points for actually using a big word, but I gotta mark you down because you just made it up."
"Shakespeare made up words."
"Right. You're a real poet."
****
Thirty minutes later...
"You took my beer," Robin said as Spike snatched his bottle.
A long gulp. That bobbing Adam's apple again. Robin's eyes wandered down to Spike's obviously muscular chest under his tight shirt. God, how much had he had to drink?
****
Fifteen minutes later...
"And then she made this...this chain from paper clips and strung them up all over her cubicle. Then she added post-it notes and white-out to the decorations and it's about at that point that I sent her home. I remember thinking, this is the Slayer? Cause...wow..."
"Yeah, she's deceptive like that. Looks like an airhead, but when your defenses are down, she'll strike at you." Spike nodded in an exaggerated, drunken manner.
"Don't know about the striking. But she did threaten to let you kill me."
"Did she? 'Atta girl!" Spike paused. "I mean, wait. What do I mean?"
Robin reached over and tugged at the leather sleeve of his mother's coat. "You're gonna give this to me."
Spike snorted. "Right, I am. Have yourself another drink, mate."
****
Ten minutes later...
Spike's breath was on his neck for the second time that night.
"See that? Right there. See?" Robin pointed at where he knew the scar was.
"Ah...yeah. Yeah, I see that." Spike fell back against his chair. "That was a lady vamp. Tiny fangs."
"Thirteen. Crowley, my Watcher, took me out to patrol for the first time. Just tossed me a stake and expected me to figure it out on my own. Thought I was gonna die when the vamp pounced on me, but he dusted it at the last minute."
"Fucking Watchers. Arrogant pricks, the lot of them."
Robin raised his bottle only to find it was empty already. That was a shame. "Not all bad. Crowley was alright. Just a fan of throwing the baby bird out of the nest."
"Appropriate metaphor for a bloke named 'Robin'." Spike raised an eyebrow.
Robin laughed.
****
Five minutes later...
"God, I fucking hate you," Robin slurred as he rested his head against his elbow on the table.
Spike grinned.
****
Robin's tongue explored the inside of Spike's mouth. It tasted like danger and death and, well, beer. Actually, more of the beer than the death.
They were back outside the workshop, which was the funniest fucking thing in the world. Now, with Spike's hands trailing over his body, Robin could barely remember what conversation had led them back there. Something about testing to see if a broken crucifix would still burn a vampire.
Anything that burned Spike met with his approval. Except now it was him radiating body heat onto Spike's own cool body. That hadn't been on the agenda.
Robin pulled away and put a hand to his face. "Wait, wait. What are we doing?"
Spike was panting, though Robin didn't think he should have been. Vampires didn't need to breathe.
"We're having a tumble. Again. Just a different kind, I suppose," Spike said. "You know, you explore the dark world of vampires that you've grown up enveloped in, yet never breached, and I get a literal taste of the consequences of my past, evil, soulless actions."
That hadn't made a word of sense. Robin was sure it would have been just as nonsensical if he were sober.
Spike sighed. "You're gonna fuck me to pound out your anger and frustration."
Robin nodded. "Got it."
He shoved Spike into the workshop, then, catching the vampire off-guard. Spike gracelessly landed on the ground, the stolen coat pooled around him.
Robin wondered if the multitude of crosses decorating the walls invigorated Spike. It almost felt like he was feeling the effects, somehow. Couldn't be. He was human.
"First," Robin said in a voice he was sure wasn't the least bit slurred. "That coat's coming off."
Spike grinned as Robin leaned down to peel the leather coat off him. Robin's focus was on the vampire, though, and he tossed the coat aside. Then he was on Spike, weighing him down to consume him. Lips smashed together, and Robin roughly yanked Spike's shirt up, eager to get this taken care of.
The kissing was hard enough to bruise, but Robin kissed even harder while his hands worked frantically to get the vampire naked.
Spike angled his head away. "In a rush, principal?"
"Shut up," Robin said, returning his mouth back to Spike's.
The vampire wasn't going to play the passive party, though. He grabbed Robin's hands to still him, using his superior demon strength to overpower Robin's efforts to resist.
"I think," Spike said. "This will be more enjoyable for the both of us if we not rush through it like virginal teenagers."
Robin sat up, straddling Spike's stomach. "Bet you know quite a bit about virginal teenagers."
The cocky grin was gone. "Know a few things."
Robin stripped his own shirt off and then removed his pants, finally releasing his almost-painful erection. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so worked up. It wasn't that Spike was hot. Well, Robin supposed he was in a "man" sort of way, but that didn't usually get him hard. No, it was what Spike meant that excited him. The lifelong fear and loathing, the frustration at not being able to avenge his mother's death. Her life, even, which was ruined by the fucking vampires. Now Robin again straddled a very naked Spike and he knew that he had the upper hand. This vampire was his for the night. It's not what he'd dreamed of every night while growing up, but it would do.
Despite his talk about moving slower, Spike wasted no time grabbing Robin's ass and pulling him up his body. Robin followed and situated his cock at Spike's lips. Spike gave him a deliberate gaze before vamping out, ridged forehead almost hiding yellowed eyes from Robin's angle. Then Robin's cock was enveloped in Spike's demon mouth.
His first instinct was to close his eyes, but he forced himself to keep them open so he could see himself fucking Spike's face. Spike wasn't tentative, but he was careful to keep his fangs from cutting Robin. Robin grunted, hips shoving his cock further in. Spike's cheeks were sucked in as he applied vacuum pressure, tongue roughly swirling around the tip before he jutted his head further to take the whole thing in again.
The sound was fantastic. A primal, slurping noise that always signaled a good, messy blowjob. Robin grabbed the back of Spike's head, angling his body onto his knees so he could thrust harder. Spike didn't need to breathe. It didn't matter if the vampire choked. Spike's hand gripped Robin's balls, squeezing them heavily.
Robin groaned, withdrawing his cock, he lift himself slightly to present his balls to Spike. The vampire eagerly licked them. The demon tongue was rougher than a human's might be, and Robin pumped himself by hand as Spike sucked his balls. Then Spike moved down to the area underneath them.
Robin yanked Spike's head away. "No," he said in between deep breaths. "That's your forte, Spike." There was no way Robin was gonna let the vampire have his ass in any way.
Spike didn't look too perturbed. Instead, he swiped a tongue up Robin's cock as best he could at the angle he was. Robin's eyes narrowed. Spike's lips were so moist, spit glistening on his chin from the face-fucking.
"Keep that face on," Robin said, nodding at Spike's demon features.
Robin sat up enough to flip Spike over, letting a hand trail down the vampire's back in a possessive gesture till he reached the ass. Robin spanked it with a powerful smack. He was pleased to notice Spike jumped slightly and growled.
Robin's fingers began to slowly probe Spike's opening. "I'm guessing a worldly guy like you has taken it up the ass before."
In response, Spike propelled himself back onto Robin's hand, causing his fingers to explore farther.
"Rough as you like, Wood," Spike said.
It was the go-ahead Robin hadn't known he needed. At the last second, he decided to spit into his hand in a weak attempt to lube at least a little. It probably wouldn't help much at all, but it made Robin feel better. Not that he should be concerned about the vampire's well-being, but he didn't want to piss off Buffy by breaking her pseudo-boyfriend's ass.
Then Robin parted Spike's cheeks, pressing his dick into Spike's readied hole. Spike grunted as Robin thrust in with one sharp stabbing motion.
It was the tightest vise Robin'd ever felt. He couldn't control his hips once inside, and he began pumping at a brutal pace. Robin grabbed Spike around the neck and hauled him up so his back was flush against Robin's chest.
"Wanna see your face," Robin said, looking sideways at Spike's demon visage. The vampire's eyes were closed, and his fangs were bared in a grimace. "Like that?" Robin's other hand held tight to Spike's hips. He hoped he'd leave bruises.
Letting Spike's body fall forward slightly for leverage, Robin slammed even harder into the vampire's ass. Their bodies slapped together, a symphony of revenge, regret, loss, and anger. And pleasure. There was pleasure just short of bliss between them in being able to release everything. Spike had grabbed his own cock, tugging on it fiercely. Robin let him. It didn't matter what Spike did. Robin was getting the best of him anyway.
Sweat dripped onto Robin's bruised eye, stinging sharply. At the same time, he felt the tightening in his balls that told him he was close. He gritted his teeth, situating his arm more firmly around Spike's waist, and he looked down to see his cock mercilessly pounding Spike's smaller frame. His breath hitched and his body jerked as he came. His head fell onto Spike's shoulder, and he bit down hard while yelling in fervid release.
It was easily the most mind-blowing orgasm he'd ever had.
Deep breaths later found himself on his side, spooned against Spike's back. His muscles were already aching doubly, and he knew that he would be sore tomorrow.
Spike sat up first, of course. Vampire. Better stamina. The vampire was back in his human face, though, and he looked over his shoulder at Robin with an enigmatic expression.
"What?" Robin asked, feeling defensive.
"That more satisfying for you?"
Robin didn't have an answer.
After a few moments, Spike got up and began getting dressed.
"Nobody hears about this," Robin warned.
"Course not," Spike answered while zipping his jeans. "Don't want word getting out that I was fucked by a principal. Would ruin my reputation."
The black shirt covered flexing chest muscles. Something that shouldn't disappoint Robin, but it did.
Robin gingerly stood up on shaky legs and reached for his pants, as well.
Spike was almost on his way out when he reached down and grabbed the coat, putting it on with a flourish.
Robin didn't know where he found the energy or the speed to reach out and grab Spike's arm, but he did. "You have got to be kidding me."
Spike looked down at Robin's hand gripping the leather tightly. Like a lifeline. Spike sighed. "Buffy needs me to have it right now."
Robin frowned, releasing the coat. "Buffy...?"
The vampire nodded. He glanced down and nodded contritely. "Sorry."
Then Spike turned and left.