Having effulgently bad sex with... Wesley
Actually I intended to continue my little foray into bad sex with Angel but after last night’s Grand Prix D’Eurovision (for the rest of the world: a kinda weird but very traditional annual European Song contest broadcasted on tv) I feel I need to do the all-British edition first ‘cause damn, these English are a kinky lot! (And deaf, obviously). There was exactly one reason to give my country’s musically questionable contribution very generous 7 points (in stark contrast to the rest of Europe which tended to ignore the fiasco politely): delicious stripper Dita van Teese with a riding crop. Do I really need to say more?
(Well, maybe I do. This didn’t turn out as funny as it intended to be but then again, vampires ‘n’ bad ass!Wesley ‘n’ bad sex ‘n’ all, you know.)
Title: Having effulgently bad sex with… Wesley
Pairing: Spike/Wesley
Rating: R
Words: 1.784
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn.
Warnings: language (mine, I’m not a native speaker, no beta).
“Both of us lying back and thinking of England won’t get us anywhere, mate.”
“Indeed”, Wesley sighed, adjusting his glasses since they were the only thing left to adjust. Being naked felt kinda wrong.
“On the count of three?”, Spike suggested.
“O.K..”
“Three, two, one…” Both Englishmen tensed.
“You didn’t move.” Wesley sounded kind of reproachful.
“You neither.” The spot where their upper arms touched the burning centre of embarrassment, they lay next to each other on the floor of Wesley’s office and stared at the ceiling. Could use a new layer of paint.
“Tell me gain: Why are we doing this?”
“To annoy the shit out of Angel.”
Wesley sighed. Stealing Angel’s hair gel suddenly seemed more than enough punishment. Then again…
“Fine”, Spike stated with obvious effort but didn’t move, “gonna fuck you now, Percy.”
“You sure your penis agrees?” Wesley raised a doubting eye brow and glanced at Spike’s limp cock that seemed to want to crawl back into the vampire’s body.
Growling, Spike lay back, entwining his fingers above his bare chest.
“Besides, it would irritate Angel much more if I penetrated you”, the former watcher added matter-of-factly.
One more growl from Spike. Bollocks. Nothing to argue here.
“Then get it on, wanker, for fuck’s sake… if you can.” The blond smirked, doing that tongue thing of superior condescension, and rolled over, relieved to bring some precious inches between himself and the man who was going to star beside - no, inside - him in this very special security-tape-drive-Angel-nuts-porn-flick. Well, in this generously edited, special effects-enhanced imitation of porn if things didn’t change soon.
Coughing slightly, Wesley sat up and reached for the top drawer of his desk, opening it with the key he had fished out of his neatly folded slacks placed on the chair. “I’m afraid, I’ll need some help.”
“Oi!”
“Beg your pardon?”
“No one ever needed help when they’re allowed to fuck my tight lil’ body!”, Spike exclaimed indignantly, unable to hide the genuine wound behind his usual sexual bravado for a moment.
“I am truly sorry to hurt your feelings, Spike, but this is not about you. Besides, I’m not homosexual.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I am not”, Wesley hissed.
“Supernatural scent here, moron! You reek of testosterone whenever Tall, Dark and Broody is near like a locker room full of body builders mainlining their breakfast.”
Wesley briefly imitated a fish, then obviously decided to shut up and contemplate for a moment before he asked gravely “so you want me to think of Angel while I fuck you?”
Glaring, Spike nodded towards the drawer after some very tense seconds during which none of them knew if he wouldn’t jump up and leave in a huff. But damn, they had made it that far, naked and determined (though kinda limp) and Spike sure as hell didn’t want to repeat this encounter any day soon so they really should get this over with. Angel would be pissed off for weeks. And kinda jealous but none of them mentioned that special bonus.
“What’s in there?” Spike asked when Wesley began to rummage. “No, wait! I don’t wanna know. ‘s probably a riding crop… or a huge “oh, please discipline me, rector”-wooden ruler… or a maiden costume.” Spike’s face screwed up in shock. “’s a maiden costume with straps and a frilly pinny, right? Forget it! I won’t wear-“
“Shut up, Spike.” Wesley held an enormous, anatomically surprisingly close imitation of a wale’s penis in his hands, skin-coloured straps tightly attached to the monstrosity. “I apprehended we would have problems taking to each other in a sexual, well, in any way so I prepared this.”
“That’s gross.”
“Well, it will allow us to have intercourse and there’s enough space inside to hide my own genitals. Plus a little image processing to defocus the straps and Angel won’t realize we faked.”
“You are a really pity man, Wesley Wyndam-Price”, Spike said genuinely, “needing to show off that much.”
“Didn’t you suggest yourself to give Angel a little show?”
“That thing’s gonna rip me in two!”
“Oh don’t be such a sissy, Spike. Vampire healing?”
“No!” Spike squealed and compressed his ass cheeks firmly.
“Just imagine what it would do to Angel, first a close-up of your face, contorted in something between pain and lust, then us rutting like bitches in heat, all those sound-effects, the moaning and the slapping noise of flesh on flesh-“
“Flesh on plastic”, Spike corrected.
“Whatever. So, me thrusting inside you hard and fast, then your cum-shot - we can paste that - me shouting your name while I pretend to climax inside your arse and then a close-up again of my, well”, Wesley nodded towards the strap-on, “the cock retreating and blood slowly pouring out of your stretched anus, sliding down your thighs like a crimson honey trail. Can you image what that will do to Angelu- Angel?”
Spike’s eyes grew wide, imagining how this would undo his soddin’ grandsire. “Yeah.” And how the hell could Wesley suddenly say such things out loud when they still couldn’t look at each other, being naked and… Fuck. Spike’s cock began to stir.
“I’m game.” Embarrassingly enough, that sounded much too enthusiastic. Nevertheless, the vampire unlocked his cheeks and lifted his ass, knees underneath his belly, spreading himself open.
Wesley applied the strap-on, happy that Spike couldn’t see that he maybe, just maybe, was somewhat turned on by his own little speech and the submissive pose of his annoying colleague. Without further ado - ‘cause really, thinking about Lilibet and the Empire had been more than enough foreplay - he pressed the tip of the dildo against Spike’s hole and whispered “action!”.
Both of them began to moan a little and Spike grasped his half-hard cock and pulled, trying to hide that it wasn’t as hard as it should be and hoping to change that condition.
When the broad tip of the phallus threatened to breach Spike’s unprepared entrance, the blond lunged forward and shouted “stop!”.
“What?” Wesley seemed to be as angry as if his real cock would have been left to thrust into thin air.
“Lube?”
“What exactly didn’t you understand about the blood-vampire-thing being a, oh yes, vampire?”
Mumbling something about smart-arses and fucking uncomfortable fissures, Spike crawled back on all fours, reminding himself that revenge was sweet. Humiliating during the preparation phase but sweet in the end.
“Action!”, Wesley whispered again, a light undertone of annoyance and impatience clearly audible.
“Wait!”
“What now?”
“This thing about the close-up… wouldn’t that be a little conspicuous on a surveillance video?”
“Angel will think he did it himself.”
“Huh?”
“I build him a new remote.”
“Right. So Mr. Samsung will never see this bloody video ‘cause he thinks the zapper controls the microwave.”
“It’s got “TV” written on top and only two buttons.”
“That’s one too much.”
“They’re both useless, Spike, so if we please could get this over with now!?”
“Just sayin’.” Great, now the little vamp was completely flaccid again. And no, of course Spike didn’t call his impressive junk ‘little vamp’. Would be a lie, yeah?
Mumbling “action!” for the third time under his breath and therefore being more than annoyed, Wesley moaned loudly when he hit home with one vicious thrust, making Spike scream. It was perfectly fine to hurt demons, wasn’t it? The Council would have appreciated the effort. Even better if you could hurt two and damn, but the plastic shell magically seemed to shrink. But then again, Wesley Wyndham-Price was a good man and when he realized that thrusting inside Spike became a lot more fluid because of the enormous amounts of blood that poured from the absurdly stretched orifice, he had to prove a lot more histrionic creativity than he dared. Thrusting hard, he closed his eyes and moaned loudly, trying to endure the average 7.4 minutes homosexual anal intercourse usually lasted if the users of gay.com were to be believed.
Then again, this should look like earth-shattering sex so he probably could shorten it a bit.
Crying out loud “Spike, I’m cooooooomin’!”, his eyes still clenched shut and his hands digging hard into Spike’s hips, never touching more of the blond than imperative, Wesley faked an orgasm for the first time in his life. And damn how easy it was. And if he could do it, maybe Fred…
Concentrating on his task, Wesley slowly extracted the dildo, crimson and dripping wet as it was. Spike winced and cursed silently and Wesley shot a glance at the vampires cock. Image editing, definitely. Maybe Lorne knew somebody at Pixar.
“You sure you have a soul, pet?”, Spike asked, his face buried in his arms, his voice hoarse and tense.
“Souls are overrated”, Wesley said coldly, trying to dissociate himself from himself as far as possible. Demon, soul aside, right? Vampire healing and consensual adults ‘n’ all, right? Angel, always and forever Angel, right?
He slapped Spike ass, hard, thinking that this little snippet about souls should be part of the video and an implied spanking would be the perfect end. Spike twitched and deep down, in a corner Wesley didn’t want to acknowledge, he suddenly understood what bound the two vampires so balefully close to each other.
Jealously raised it’s ugly head and secretly Wesley was lucky he didn’t realize it before. This whole soul thing? Vampire folklore.
They both got up and dressed, Spike much more awkwardly than Wesley and clenching his teeth when he stepped into his denims, still bleeding so that even Wesley thought he could smell the coppery scent.
Avoiding to look at Wesley, Spike said “O.K., perfect revenge. Gonna show me the video before you foist it on peaches, right?”.
“Of course”, Wesley answered, all business-like and sat down behind his desk, bringing as much distance between himself and Spike as possible.
Spike nodded and left.
“Perfect revenge”, the vampire thought. Right. For what again?
°°°
According to plan there was only one employee left when Wesley showed up at the security office. It was late and the guard’s workmates patrolled the building.
“Mr. Wyndham-Price!”, the watchman squealed, blushing.
Wesley was a little surprised the man knew his name.
“Before you say anything, Sir, don’t worry. I’ve erased it.”
“What?”
“The surveillance video you came for? With Mr. Spike? No need to worry. I didn’t see anything. No one ever will. I stopped the recording the moment you began to… errr, undress. And then I switched it off, of course”, the man said bustling, stumbling over his own words and clearly hoping for a pay raise.
Wesley swallowed. Of course. Fuck.
“Well done! You won’t regret it”, he said, his lips thin lines of frustration, and turned away.
Who said revenge was sweet?