festival!verse: lo, witness my lack of shame
way longer than I intended it to be, and a little earlier too, but this must be shared rightnow.
warning/preview: So, there’s drug use, voyeurism/exhibitionism, het and femslash (but neither are all that explicit. I promise it will be alright
) and somehow some daddy!kink slipped past me. I blame sexymermaid for that because I’ve got her AU spangel on the brain (all 3 of them actually), but she probably partially blames me for one of those, so it’s all good. But the daddykink only occurs twice, so if that scares you, I think you can power through.
Though of course, if you want more of that, in the future, just holler and I’ll be happy to oblige ;)
Festival!verse
Author: Mel (btvslover82)
Pairing: Spander
Rating: NC-17 slash
Summary: human AU; Xander goes to a multi-day music festival to celebrate his 16th birthday alone and runs across a dubiously intentioned older Spike
Warning: underage sex, obviously. Erm. Anything else that might come along, I’ll warn about later.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss and ME...alas, alack.
Feedback: please :)
beta'd by sparrow2000
previous installments are here
part 3
Xander felt Spike begin to stir beside him on the sleeping bag, and felt a little bubble of vulnerable panic in the watery morning light. He’d hardly slept at all that night. Couldn’t say that about Spike, who had been sawing logs before Xander could even say goodnight, and who had hardly even moved. Guy slept like the dead. Xander, unused to sleeping with another body in his bed, so to speak, was too nervous to let down his guard. He was a restless sleeper, and he hadn’t wanted to annoy the other man.
The result was that he’d had lots of time to think. To think about Spike, to think about what he’d done with Spike, and to think about what he might like to do with Spike. Why it was a bad idea, and why it was a good idea.
He’d come to a few conclusions.
With a deep inhale, the face that was pressed into his neck arched away, and intensely blue eyes opened and blinked at him, getting their bearings. Spike’s arm was still around his waist, only now Xander was laying on his side facing him, so that Spike’s hand rested against his lower back. As Spike smiled in that sharp, sharky way that wasn’t softened by his rumpled hair, like you’d think it would be, he reached down and squeezed Xander’s ass.
“Morning, gorgeous.” Spike’s voice was extra deep with sleep, and Xander felt himself blush all the way to his toes at the compliment, and the manhandling. Even if the label was a dirty, smooth-talking lie.
“Sleep well?” Spike withdrew his hand to rub drowsily at his eye.
“Yes,” Xander lied. “Did you?”
“Like a cradle-robber,” Spike kidded (sort of), and winked in a confidential way. Xander’s stomach twisted up happily with the gesture.
And yet, he couldn’t ask for a better segue if he tried.
“You do this a lot, huh?” Xander propped himself up on one arm and tried not to look like he was ready to vomit.
Spike went from pleasantly drowsy to sharp and alert in a second and a half. Somehow, he still looked cool and unperturbed. Xander wished he could play things off like that.
“Whadya mean, pet?” He was all casual indifference, as if he weren’t on high alert for a cry of ‘statutory,’ but Xander saw through him.
“I mean, finding some unsuspecting young thing…taking him to bed and having your dirty way with him, then patting him on the butt and sending him packing in the morning.”
Spike lay still, a predator frozen in the tall grass, trying to be invisible to wary gazelles. “’Course not, pet, there was just something about you I liked, right off. What kind of man would I be if-”
“Spike. I may be a virgin, but I’m not stupid.”
Xander was strangely calm and un-Xander-like. Spike was searching his face leisurely, without seeming to, probably looking for any trace of hysteria or upset. But it was kinda ironic that all of the wiggy feelings Xander had under the anonymous cover of darkness were replaced with an eerie acceptance of The Way Things Were in the soft light. Maybe because Spike’s cock was no longer in his face. Xander couldn’t suppress the blush that came from his own thoughts.
“Might have been with someone younger a time or two, ‘sides you,” Spike admitted cautiously.
Xander rolled his eyes. “Look, it’s fine, it’s your thing, I get it. You like em all young and vulnerable. I’m not upset. Well, I was upset, but by 3am, I was over it. But I just wanted to tell you, I know the score.” Wow that came out a thousand times more confident than he felt. Go Xander!
Spike eyed Xander with uncertainty. “Uh-huh….”
“So you don’t have to be all coy.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “’M never ‘coy,’ mate, I leave that to silly chits I’d never look twice at.” He paused, studying Xander. “Look here, are you sure you’re the same boy I picked up last night? Because the boy I picked up last night was all shy and stammery and reluctant to suck my cock, even though you turned out to be quite a champ at it.”
When Xander turned bright red and stuttered over mention of cock-sucking, Spike smiled smugly, like he was back on familiar territory.
“I’m just uh…I just wanted….” Xander’s face was burning with heat now, and he was back to stammering over his words. Just that easily, he’d lost his advantage and felt bashful and out of his league again, in the face of this self-assured fast-talker. He took a deep breath. “I just wanted to let you know, I don’t expect…anything from you. So, you know, when this is all over, you don’t have to tell me lies or let me down easy. I just….”
Spike’s face was impassive, guarded, though a little curiosity peeked through. He tipped his head. “What?”
“I just want to um…” He cleared his throat. “learn stuff.”
Humor flickered under the surface of Spike’s wary expression. “Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself assuming I’d be willing to teach, aren’t you?”
Their eyes remained locked for a moment, but then Spike looked away, running an impatient hand through his morning-wild hair. Without saying anything, he kneeled up and zipped his pants, but not before Xander got a peek at what he’d been unable to see in the dark. He flushed, but Spike’s silence was making him too nervous. Spike grabbed his shirt, and having slept in his boots, bent to unzip the tent flap and step outside.
Xander’s heart sank. That was it, he’d blown it. Typical Xander, unable to keep his mouth shut and just play along. The air outside the tent was sharp and cool with moisture, and snaked inside the small space that had been heated by two bodies throughout the night. Spike was just standing with his hands on his hips, soiled shirt in one hand, squinting at something, or nothing, over the crown of the tent.
Xander didn’t even have the heart to enjoy the fact that Spike was ripped. Not like he’d get to benefit from it. Why torture himself?
Suddenly Spike’s eyes dropped back to his and Xander found himself holding his breath under the cool gaze.
“Get your kit on and come by our place quick as you can, right? You’ll never find us in this crowd, once we head over to see the bands.”
Without another word or acknowledgement of their conversation, Spike turned and walked away.
Xander quickly zipped up his tent so that no one could see his happy dance. Some things were private.
~*~*~*~
Willow? was Xander’s new best friend. She rocked.
“And then he’s all,” Willow snorted with anticipation, “In-con-CEIV-able!” They both died laughing, laughter so hard and sincere that there was no room to be dignified: snorts and gasps and guffaws.
It was the hot heat of the day, and Spike wasn’t around. He’d been distant all morning, but sometimes Xander would look up and catch him staring, like when Willow finally convinced Xander to show her his Snoopy dance or when he’d tried, to the detriment of his dignity, to charm Cordelia. He sure as hell hoped Spike wasn’t watching now. Xander had just laughed so hard he’d sucked mucous into his throat and was now choking on it, and that? was not sexy.
“Are you still prattling on about that child’s movie?” Darla asked disdainfully. Xander had discerned right away that she was the biggest snob, in the worst way. “I suppose I shouldn’t be so hard on you. After all, you still are a child. One of the many that get dragged through here for us to babysit. I should be patient though, since it won’t be long before Spike tires of you and kicks you to the curb like all the others.”
Xander knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, but then Darla probably didn’t realize that he understood exactly what his place was here. Well, except for Willow. Wills he knew for sure genuinely liked him.
“You know, Darla, wasn’t it a whole lot easier looking down your nose at people before the nose job? So much more of it to sneer over back then, am I right? Did you set out to make your favorite pastime difficult or was that just an accident?”
Darla recoiled and pulled herself up to her full height, which wasn’t far since she was practically a midget, and tried to look haughty. Xander could see he’d gotten a direct hit on the nose job, especially since Willow was trying hard to conceal her grin.
“I’ll have you know I inherited this nose from my grandmother.”
Xander grinned. “Swiss bank account, or blue chip bonds?”
Darla narrowed her eyes murderously and stalked off.
“Shouldn’t anger Darla, kid. She can be a real bitch when she wants to be.” Angel looked amused, despite the warning he was giving.
Xander was still kind of intimidated by the big guy, but he was on a roll. “What’s she gonna do, bite my ankles?”
Angel barked a laugh and then grew serious, which mostly involved a few well-placed blinks. Apparently size indicated a lack of necessity for facial expressions as well. “She wouldn’t hesitate to cut a boy like you down to size.”
Okkaaayyy, so all kidding aside, Xander was a little unsettled by the way Angel was staring him down right now, so he affected his friendliest, goofiest grin. “I think you should get the name of her plastic surgeon. Because that forehead of yours? It’s interfering with the rational thought.”
All told it wasn’t his best work, but it was worth it when Angel rubbed a hand over his forehead self-consciously. Xander winked at Willow, and they both tried not to giggle.
“I’m going to the little boy’s room,” he told her. “In other words…that group of trees over there. If I’m not back in an hour, send a search party.” She gave him a Willow-smile and waved him off through the throngs of sweaty concert-goers.
Xander had just entered the woods when someone grabbed him by the arm, spun him roughly around, and he came face to face with Spike. A quip about skulking in the shadows died away before it ever fully formed. In fact, all of his bravado died away abruptly in light of the way Spike was studying his face. Intensely, unblinkly, head cocked, like a bird of prey trying to make sense of something novel.
And then Spike’s mouth mashed to his and Xander’s back hit the rough bark of a tree. And Xander was so very easy, shamefully so, because Spike barely thrust his tongue inside his mouth before Xander was wrapping his arms around him and trying to press closer. He whimpered when Spike took him by the back pockets and began to rock their hips together. Tried to climb the tree when Spike’s fingers brushed over the seam of his ass.
Spike pulled back, and Xander opened his eyes. He was dazed and hypnotized, a bamboozled little mouse held fast by snake eyes.
Spike leaned in, spoke in a low shivery way against Xander’s ear.
“Not what you seem, are you, luv?” One light finger trailed over the edge of Xander’s ear, and his breath hitched. “That’s alright, though. Spike likes his surprises. Makes the package more fun to unwrap.” Spike’s right hand, sneaky as it was, stole down and curled itself around Xander’s hard-on, squeezing and pressing and rubbing. Xander shuddered. The tip of Spike’s tongue swept along his ear. The woods were blurry in front of his unfocused eyes.
Then Spike pushed away from the tree, away from Xander. Backed away, smirking like sex incarnate, then turned and walked in the direction of their group, without a backwards glance. Swaggered.
Xander was so screwed.
~*~*~*~
Nighttime again, or finally. The campfire popped and crackled, and there was more good-natured bullshit being slung in the tight, close circle that seemed to shelter him from the darkness of the countryside. Xander was a city boy at heart. Well, a town-boy. A townie? Townsfolk. The point was, a sky lit only by what God had put there gave Xander the wiggins.
Besides, tonight Xander felt a little more like he belonged. He knew it had only been one day with these people, but he felt like he knew them. Intense, like summer camp, or like Xander imagined summer camp would have been, if he’d ever gone. And Xander even felt good enough to put a crack or two of his own into the banter, and they didn’t laugh at him. Well, they did, but in the good way: Oz with a sly noiseless side-eye, Willow with that bright, happy sound he’d heard all day, Lindsey and Faith with twin husky meltylaughs that Xander thought were far too appealing and strangely similar. Like someone had cleaved the same person in half and given one of them tits. Even Cordy had warmed up to him during the day, with a lot of effort on his part, actually. Darla ignored him, and Angel did too, except moments when he stared intently, just watching, in a way that made Xander cold, or hot, or both.
But the laugh that Xander was enjoying the most was that dark chuckle resonating directly into his ear. It made him shiver, and Spike knew it. Somehow Spike had ended up spooned up behind Xander, with his back to the tree Xander had intended to lean against. Gradually Xander had leaned back against his chest instead, beguiled by a couple beers and the long day in the sun and the warm gentle fingertips that were trailing harmlessly but pants-throbbingly along the skin where his shirt met his jeans. The last few hours, Spike had been…charming. And a charming Spike was a force to be reckoned with.
At some point, little baggies and matching pipes started circulating. The drugs made Xander a little nervous. He’d never really ventured beyond alcohol before, didn’t have anyone to venture with, and he didn’t want to look stupid in front of his new friends, just when they were beginning to see him as something other than a burdensome little kid.
Oz jiggled a tin of little pills towards him, and Xander took it on reflex. He was studying them, just pondering whether he was supposed to take one or pass them on, when Spike plucked the tin languidly from his fingers and leaned across the gap in the circle to pass them to Angel.
Xander hesitated. “What were those?”
“Ecstasy,” Spike murmured in his ear matter-of-factly.
“Oh.” Xander tried to make it sound like he knew that, in that one syllable, but it didn’t seem like Spike cared one way or the other. That or he already knew that Xander was a virgin to drug use, too. Xander hesitated, then tried to pass his next question off as a joke. “So what gives with the passing? Thought you’d want me all…you know, horny.”
Spike laughed against his ear like black silk. “I think we both know that we don’t need a drug for that, pet.” The fingers that had been stroking the sensitive skin at Xander’s bellybutton skipped lower, over his erection that was, yes, already in the game. How could he not be, with these casual touches, and the heat of Spike’s body soaking into his back? “No, when this happens-and it will happen tonight, Xander, make no mistake-it’s just going to be you, and me, and the happy chemicals our bodies are makin’ all on their own.”
Spike continued to stroke firm fingertips over Xander’s cock through his jeans, making him shudder and squirm. Suddenly Xander caught Lindsey’s eye, and the cowboy smirked and looked blatantly down to where Xander was being fondled. Mortified, he slapped Spike’s hand away, but when he looked at Spike, the man was only grinning smugly. Like he knew something Xander didn’t. Which wasn’t a stretch, since he knew a lot of things Xander didn’t.
When Oz casually passed a little glass pipe with a lighter into Spike’s outstretched hand, Xander’s stomach clenched with anxiety. He stole a surreptitious glance around the circle, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him. Darla had climbed into Lindsey’s lap and was making his day, by the looks of it, while stealing glances at Angel, who couldn’t care less. Those not involved in conversation seemed caught up in watching that byplay.
Xander turned his head slightly, as casually as he could manage, and watched Spike fiddle with the stuff in the bowl of the pipe with the back of the lighter. When he seemed satisfied by whatever secret requirement, he wrapped his lips around the end of the pipe and snicked the cheap plastic lighter over the bowl. He was doing something with his thumb, and it all looked a lot more complicated than you would expect inhaling smoke would be.
Spike froze with the smoke in his lungs, and when it looked like he might be passing the whole thing to Xander, pipe and lighter, Xander shook his head and smiled. “No, thanks, I think I’ll just-”
Spike turned Xander's face with two fingers on his chin and sealed his mouth over Xander’s and exhaled, tongue flickering lightly along the inner seam of his parted lips. Xander sucked the smoke in with surprise and almost immediately began to choke, but Spike wouldn’t release his mouth, and in an attempt to salvage his dignity, Xander stopped up his airway, holding in the smoke that was already burning in his lungs while preventing any more from entering.
As soon as Spike withdrew, Xander began coughing in big rough hacking spasms, hurting from his chest all the way up through his throat and into his nose. His eyes were watering, but he still saw Spike hand the horrible contraption back to Oz and then settle back with a Cheshire grin, thumping Xander gamely on the back.
Everyone was looking at him, grinning knowingly, and Xander wanted to crawl away on his belly into the dark. He wondered how much of that they’d seen. Still coughing, he made eye contact with Oz, who smiled at him gently.
“Just means you got a big hit. They’re jealous.”
Nice guy-lies through his teeth. Xander smiled his goofy smile and nodded at Oz, but as soon as everyone had resumed their regularly scheduled programs, Xander turned to Spike and narrowed his eyes. Not that that impressed Spike, but it was the principle of the thing.
“No way I’m doing that again.”
“Yes, you will.” The easy certainty in Spike’s voice dug at Xander. Unperturbed, Spike smiled breezily and scraped one fingernail low on Xander’s belly. Xander ignored the shiver it gave him.
“What happened to you and me and our happy chemicals?”
“Oh. Yeh. Well, pot’s different-natural-like, not that I believe that shite, but we need something to relax you for later, yeah?”
Spike’s tongue pressed up behind his teeth and Xander thought of his earlier promise of it happening tonight and felt heat flash up his cheeks and down to his cock.
Spike gave him a knowing look and nudged him to relax back against his chest again. “There see? No more arguments. Daddy knows best.”
The last was purred directly into his ear, five octaves too deep to be human. Spike had to be speaking sex god instead. He nipped at Xander’s ear and Xander’s hips kicked up in response. He closed his eyes and tried to settle himself before turning his attention back to the group, pretending not to be disturbed by the revelation that the word 'daddy' sent blood rushing to his groin.
Daddy issues? Surely not. Not Xander Harris, son of Tony.
Spike passed smoke to him half a dozen times, maybe more, but Xander gave up on his objections that seemed to do him about as much good as…well, none at all. He still coughed, though with Oz’s quiet coaching, it got easier.
Still, it all seemed pretty useless because Xander didn’t think he was high. His head was a little swimmy, and things were extra sharp in some places and extra soft around the edges in others: sights, sounds, sensations. But Xander’d had two or three beers, and he was a lightweight, so that was probably it. Time suspended on him, like it did when you caught a good buzz off of beer or whiskey. The jokes and laughter faded and blended, and Spike felt so warm and solid against his back. Spike shifted sometimes, to reach for his beer or in shuddering laughter, but mostly he was a solid wall for Xander to lean against drowsily. There was a point at which all Xander could focus on were Spike’s fingers, snaking from their station on Xander’s stomach to slide up under his shirt, caressing in long, languid strokes that moved at just the right pace for the floating bubble of time they were riding.
When Spike’s fingers moved stealthily downward until they were slipping inside the waistband of Xander’s loose-fitting jeans, Xander had a sudden alertness to recall that public touching led to public blushing. He took hold of Spike’s wrist and opened his eyes to object.
And got an eyeful of skin.
When had people gotten naked? Or, specifically, Angel and Faith. Because a wide-eyed, dizzying sweep of the circle confirmed that they were the nakedest, though it seemed everyone else was on their way to catching up.
And more than naked, naked together. In the Biblical sense. Really really together. On top of, inside of, together together. Faith’s head was thrown back, and Angel’s big hand was caressing her hip as she rode him.
“Shocked you right to your toes, haven’t we?” the voice of the devil said in his ear. “Poor lamb.” But Spike didn’t sound repentant, and the hand down his pants was being aided by another that was trying to free his zipper. Through the haze of smoky shock, Xander stopped him. His heart was pounding hard and he felt ready to either come right there or run away. Possibly both.
Spike tilted them and when they righted, he had procured a black shirt from the ether and was draping it over Xander’s lap.
“There,” Spike said silkily, licking his ear. “That better, pet?” There wasn’t any mockery, just smooth attentiveness that made Xander relax back against the chest that felt larger than life. Xander looked around, to find absolutely no one looking at them. Darla had finally stopped teasing Lindsey, and his focus was solely on her as she bobbed in his lap. Willow and Cordelia (holy smokes!) were turning kissing into a naked sport, and Oz was fixed on them, touching himself.
Shuddering with the alienness of it all, Xander nodded against Spike’s throat and Spike opened Xander’s jeans under their impromptu blanket and took his cock out. Xander felt his eyes drawn inexorably towards the couple that had shocked him before. They were really pretty, in a dark sort of way. Intense together, and Faith really seemed to be enjoying herself, if the things coming out of her mouth were anything to go by.
Even though they were a distance from the other campers, people had to be able to hear. The thought made his balls tight.
Spike squeezed Xander’s cock lightly, running his thumb over the head so that it dragged into the slit. Xander whined and arched back against Spike’s chest, and it was so very obvious what was going on under that shirt, but the tents sheltered them from outside eyes, somewhat, and everyone else here was having sex, for God’s sake. Unabashedly, without apology, fucking, right in front of everyone else.
Xander’s brain was a haze of lust.
“Your body wants it like a good little slut, Xander, even though what you actually are is a good little boy. Been savin’ yourself for me, haven’t you?” A tongue flicked wet against the back of his ear, and it didn’t make any sense, but Xander nodded anyway and Spike laughed. “Well. You can be a slut all you like here, and nobody will think less of you, pet. So cry for daddy.”
Spike’s hand tightened, and twisted slightly, and Xander did. He cried out for him, a wordless hoarse sound that was almost too loud. It drew a curious but unsurprised look from Oz, whose eyes dropped to the rhythmically flapping shirt in Xander’s lap, and then flicked back up again to give him the same smile he’d offered over the pot, like: It’s all good. Happens to the best of us.
Xander started to close his eyes as Spike got into a real rhythm, but Faith had begun to swear like a sailor and he couldn’t look away, not even to concentrate on his own pleasure. It was like watching porn, only in real life, with all the sounds and smells and visual detail that went with that. Only it was prettier than any porn Xander had ever seen, and not just because it was happening less than five feet away. Faith was some wild untamed thing, beautiful and feral, and it almost seemed like Angel anchored her to the earth. He was…just large, immovably so, with all that muscle, and calm, like even though he was having the hottest sex Xander had ever witnessed or imagined, it was unsurprising to him. Like it was his due. And that should have been annoying, but damned if it wasn’t just sexy.
Spike took Xander’s hand and twisted it gently behind his back, so that his palm was flat against Spike’s hard-on. “Just squeeze it and rub it a bit,” he murmured. “Not trying to get off, yet.” All Xander heard was blah blah squeeze it and rub it blah blah, but Spike seemed pleased with his interpretation, because he moaned and panted praise in Xander’s ear.
The words, the huskiness of Spike’s voice, were a reminder that this was actually real life, not just some strange dream. The realization ratcheted Xander’s arousal even further, if it was possible, and his hand convulsed on Spike’s dick, making the man growl and curse and bite at his ear. Xander couldn’t stop the full body shudder even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He felt hot and desperate, but Spike wasn’t moving quite fast enough to bring him off.
Just fast enough to drive him crazy.
“You fancy women as well?” came the seductive voice, pointed in the same direction as Xander’s eyes on Faith’s body. Xander nodded, would nod to anything just now but this was true, and Spike made a thinking sound. The bastard was thinking. Just then Angel started fucking up into Faith hard and furious, like his zen was interrupted by the come in his balls, and he was a little angry about that. He gripped her asscheeks in two large palms and pulled them apart, so Xander could see the rapid slap-slap-slap of Angel into Faith. Xander whined and scrambled farther back into Spike, just wanting…wanting.
Spike’s other hand was cupping Xander’s balls, not squeezing or tugging like he needed them to, just holding him there. “God, pet, love the way you’re squirmin’ against me. So hot for it….” Spike’s voice was rough, and just when the sexual frenzy around them had turned Xander into a white-hot ball of need and lust and desperation, Spike’s ball-cupping hand slid lower and gently, teasingly brushed against Xander’s hole and Xander let out a strangled scream and shot his load in a pained convulsion against the material covering his crotch.
“Yeah that’s it. Breathe. ‘S how it’s gonna be between us, innit? ‘Salright, I’ve got you.”
Xander was still shaking from orgasm as Spike used the shirt on his lap to clean him up and then tucked him away inside his jeans. The shirt was tossed aside, and then Spike was urging him to turn around.
They kissed, and eventually Xander found himself sort of on his back, with Spike half on top of him. Spike’s hands were frisky, roaming all over from threading themselves through Xander’s hair to slipping inside his jeans where they might squeeze at his ass. When Spike didn’t make a move to undress either of them, Xander just relaxed and enjoyed the sensation, and the way his buzz, or his high, or whatever this was, allowed him to focus in on Spike’s mouth and body and warm palms and gather nothing from the outside world except the pleasure chorus of moans and grunts and gasps from the people around them.
They kissed for a long time, until Xander was hard again, really hard, and then Spike pulled away despite Xander’s needy whimper. He stood, and extended a hand.
“I’ve got my own tent.”
And Xander realized he felt more sober. Not sober, but more sober. And that was an important distinction, because when he realized what was being offered, along with that hand and that tent, he was able to think it over without being so nervous he wanted to yark in the bushes.
He hesitated only for a moment before he took what was being offered, and Spike hefted him off the ground.
mel must have a tent fetish. off we go, to the sex!
warning/preview: So, there’s drug use, voyeurism/exhibitionism, het and femslash (but neither are all that explicit. I promise it will be alright
) and somehow some daddy!kink slipped past me. I blame sexymermaid for that because I’ve got her AU spangel on the brain (all 3 of them actually), but she probably partially blames me for one of those, so it’s all good. But the daddykink only occurs twice, so if that scares you, I think you can power through.
Though of course, if you want more of that, in the future, just holler and I’ll be happy to oblige ;)
Festival!verse
Author: Mel (btvslover82)
Pairing: Spander
Rating: NC-17 slash
Summary: human AU; Xander goes to a multi-day music festival to celebrate his 16th birthday alone and runs across a dubiously intentioned older Spike
Warning: underage sex, obviously. Erm. Anything else that might come along, I’ll warn about later.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss and ME...alas, alack.
Feedback: please :)
beta'd by sparrow2000
previous installments are here
part 3
Xander felt Spike begin to stir beside him on the sleeping bag, and felt a little bubble of vulnerable panic in the watery morning light. He’d hardly slept at all that night. Couldn’t say that about Spike, who had been sawing logs before Xander could even say goodnight, and who had hardly even moved. Guy slept like the dead. Xander, unused to sleeping with another body in his bed, so to speak, was too nervous to let down his guard. He was a restless sleeper, and he hadn’t wanted to annoy the other man.
The result was that he’d had lots of time to think. To think about Spike, to think about what he’d done with Spike, and to think about what he might like to do with Spike. Why it was a bad idea, and why it was a good idea.
He’d come to a few conclusions.
With a deep inhale, the face that was pressed into his neck arched away, and intensely blue eyes opened and blinked at him, getting their bearings. Spike’s arm was still around his waist, only now Xander was laying on his side facing him, so that Spike’s hand rested against his lower back. As Spike smiled in that sharp, sharky way that wasn’t softened by his rumpled hair, like you’d think it would be, he reached down and squeezed Xander’s ass.
“Morning, gorgeous.” Spike’s voice was extra deep with sleep, and Xander felt himself blush all the way to his toes at the compliment, and the manhandling. Even if the label was a dirty, smooth-talking lie.
“Sleep well?” Spike withdrew his hand to rub drowsily at his eye.
“Yes,” Xander lied. “Did you?”
“Like a cradle-robber,” Spike kidded (sort of), and winked in a confidential way. Xander’s stomach twisted up happily with the gesture.
And yet, he couldn’t ask for a better segue if he tried.
“You do this a lot, huh?” Xander propped himself up on one arm and tried not to look like he was ready to vomit.
Spike went from pleasantly drowsy to sharp and alert in a second and a half. Somehow, he still looked cool and unperturbed. Xander wished he could play things off like that.
“Whadya mean, pet?” He was all casual indifference, as if he weren’t on high alert for a cry of ‘statutory,’ but Xander saw through him.
“I mean, finding some unsuspecting young thing…taking him to bed and having your dirty way with him, then patting him on the butt and sending him packing in the morning.”
Spike lay still, a predator frozen in the tall grass, trying to be invisible to wary gazelles. “’Course not, pet, there was just something about you I liked, right off. What kind of man would I be if-”
“Spike. I may be a virgin, but I’m not stupid.”
Xander was strangely calm and un-Xander-like. Spike was searching his face leisurely, without seeming to, probably looking for any trace of hysteria or upset. But it was kinda ironic that all of the wiggy feelings Xander had under the anonymous cover of darkness were replaced with an eerie acceptance of The Way Things Were in the soft light. Maybe because Spike’s cock was no longer in his face. Xander couldn’t suppress the blush that came from his own thoughts.
“Might have been with someone younger a time or two, ‘sides you,” Spike admitted cautiously.
Xander rolled his eyes. “Look, it’s fine, it’s your thing, I get it. You like em all young and vulnerable. I’m not upset. Well, I was upset, but by 3am, I was over it. But I just wanted to tell you, I know the score.” Wow that came out a thousand times more confident than he felt. Go Xander!
Spike eyed Xander with uncertainty. “Uh-huh….”
“So you don’t have to be all coy.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “’M never ‘coy,’ mate, I leave that to silly chits I’d never look twice at.” He paused, studying Xander. “Look here, are you sure you’re the same boy I picked up last night? Because the boy I picked up last night was all shy and stammery and reluctant to suck my cock, even though you turned out to be quite a champ at it.”
When Xander turned bright red and stuttered over mention of cock-sucking, Spike smiled smugly, like he was back on familiar territory.
“I’m just uh…I just wanted….” Xander’s face was burning with heat now, and he was back to stammering over his words. Just that easily, he’d lost his advantage and felt bashful and out of his league again, in the face of this self-assured fast-talker. He took a deep breath. “I just wanted to let you know, I don’t expect…anything from you. So, you know, when this is all over, you don’t have to tell me lies or let me down easy. I just….”
Spike’s face was impassive, guarded, though a little curiosity peeked through. He tipped his head. “What?”
“I just want to um…” He cleared his throat. “learn stuff.”
Humor flickered under the surface of Spike’s wary expression. “Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself assuming I’d be willing to teach, aren’t you?”
Their eyes remained locked for a moment, but then Spike looked away, running an impatient hand through his morning-wild hair. Without saying anything, he kneeled up and zipped his pants, but not before Xander got a peek at what he’d been unable to see in the dark. He flushed, but Spike’s silence was making him too nervous. Spike grabbed his shirt, and having slept in his boots, bent to unzip the tent flap and step outside.
Xander’s heart sank. That was it, he’d blown it. Typical Xander, unable to keep his mouth shut and just play along. The air outside the tent was sharp and cool with moisture, and snaked inside the small space that had been heated by two bodies throughout the night. Spike was just standing with his hands on his hips, soiled shirt in one hand, squinting at something, or nothing, over the crown of the tent.
Xander didn’t even have the heart to enjoy the fact that Spike was ripped. Not like he’d get to benefit from it. Why torture himself?
Suddenly Spike’s eyes dropped back to his and Xander found himself holding his breath under the cool gaze.
“Get your kit on and come by our place quick as you can, right? You’ll never find us in this crowd, once we head over to see the bands.”
Without another word or acknowledgement of their conversation, Spike turned and walked away.
Xander quickly zipped up his tent so that no one could see his happy dance. Some things were private.
~*~*~*~
Willow? was Xander’s new best friend. She rocked.
“And then he’s all,” Willow snorted with anticipation, “In-con-CEIV-able!” They both died laughing, laughter so hard and sincere that there was no room to be dignified: snorts and gasps and guffaws.
It was the hot heat of the day, and Spike wasn’t around. He’d been distant all morning, but sometimes Xander would look up and catch him staring, like when Willow finally convinced Xander to show her his Snoopy dance or when he’d tried, to the detriment of his dignity, to charm Cordelia. He sure as hell hoped Spike wasn’t watching now. Xander had just laughed so hard he’d sucked mucous into his throat and was now choking on it, and that? was not sexy.
“Are you still prattling on about that child’s movie?” Darla asked disdainfully. Xander had discerned right away that she was the biggest snob, in the worst way. “I suppose I shouldn’t be so hard on you. After all, you still are a child. One of the many that get dragged through here for us to babysit. I should be patient though, since it won’t be long before Spike tires of you and kicks you to the curb like all the others.”
Xander knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, but then Darla probably didn’t realize that he understood exactly what his place was here. Well, except for Willow. Wills he knew for sure genuinely liked him.
“You know, Darla, wasn’t it a whole lot easier looking down your nose at people before the nose job? So much more of it to sneer over back then, am I right? Did you set out to make your favorite pastime difficult or was that just an accident?”
Darla recoiled and pulled herself up to her full height, which wasn’t far since she was practically a midget, and tried to look haughty. Xander could see he’d gotten a direct hit on the nose job, especially since Willow was trying hard to conceal her grin.
“I’ll have you know I inherited this nose from my grandmother.”
Xander grinned. “Swiss bank account, or blue chip bonds?”
Darla narrowed her eyes murderously and stalked off.
“Shouldn’t anger Darla, kid. She can be a real bitch when she wants to be.” Angel looked amused, despite the warning he was giving.
Xander was still kind of intimidated by the big guy, but he was on a roll. “What’s she gonna do, bite my ankles?”
Angel barked a laugh and then grew serious, which mostly involved a few well-placed blinks. Apparently size indicated a lack of necessity for facial expressions as well. “She wouldn’t hesitate to cut a boy like you down to size.”
Okkaaayyy, so all kidding aside, Xander was a little unsettled by the way Angel was staring him down right now, so he affected his friendliest, goofiest grin. “I think you should get the name of her plastic surgeon. Because that forehead of yours? It’s interfering with the rational thought.”
All told it wasn’t his best work, but it was worth it when Angel rubbed a hand over his forehead self-consciously. Xander winked at Willow, and they both tried not to giggle.
“I’m going to the little boy’s room,” he told her. “In other words…that group of trees over there. If I’m not back in an hour, send a search party.” She gave him a Willow-smile and waved him off through the throngs of sweaty concert-goers.
Xander had just entered the woods when someone grabbed him by the arm, spun him roughly around, and he came face to face with Spike. A quip about skulking in the shadows died away before it ever fully formed. In fact, all of his bravado died away abruptly in light of the way Spike was studying his face. Intensely, unblinkly, head cocked, like a bird of prey trying to make sense of something novel.
And then Spike’s mouth mashed to his and Xander’s back hit the rough bark of a tree. And Xander was so very easy, shamefully so, because Spike barely thrust his tongue inside his mouth before Xander was wrapping his arms around him and trying to press closer. He whimpered when Spike took him by the back pockets and began to rock their hips together. Tried to climb the tree when Spike’s fingers brushed over the seam of his ass.
Spike pulled back, and Xander opened his eyes. He was dazed and hypnotized, a bamboozled little mouse held fast by snake eyes.
Spike leaned in, spoke in a low shivery way against Xander’s ear.
“Not what you seem, are you, luv?” One light finger trailed over the edge of Xander’s ear, and his breath hitched. “That’s alright, though. Spike likes his surprises. Makes the package more fun to unwrap.” Spike’s right hand, sneaky as it was, stole down and curled itself around Xander’s hard-on, squeezing and pressing and rubbing. Xander shuddered. The tip of Spike’s tongue swept along his ear. The woods were blurry in front of his unfocused eyes.
Then Spike pushed away from the tree, away from Xander. Backed away, smirking like sex incarnate, then turned and walked in the direction of their group, without a backwards glance. Swaggered.
Xander was so screwed.
~*~*~*~
Nighttime again, or finally. The campfire popped and crackled, and there was more good-natured bullshit being slung in the tight, close circle that seemed to shelter him from the darkness of the countryside. Xander was a city boy at heart. Well, a town-boy. A townie? Townsfolk. The point was, a sky lit only by what God had put there gave Xander the wiggins.
Besides, tonight Xander felt a little more like he belonged. He knew it had only been one day with these people, but he felt like he knew them. Intense, like summer camp, or like Xander imagined summer camp would have been, if he’d ever gone. And Xander even felt good enough to put a crack or two of his own into the banter, and they didn’t laugh at him. Well, they did, but in the good way: Oz with a sly noiseless side-eye, Willow with that bright, happy sound he’d heard all day, Lindsey and Faith with twin husky meltylaughs that Xander thought were far too appealing and strangely similar. Like someone had cleaved the same person in half and given one of them tits. Even Cordy had warmed up to him during the day, with a lot of effort on his part, actually. Darla ignored him, and Angel did too, except moments when he stared intently, just watching, in a way that made Xander cold, or hot, or both.
But the laugh that Xander was enjoying the most was that dark chuckle resonating directly into his ear. It made him shiver, and Spike knew it. Somehow Spike had ended up spooned up behind Xander, with his back to the tree Xander had intended to lean against. Gradually Xander had leaned back against his chest instead, beguiled by a couple beers and the long day in the sun and the warm gentle fingertips that were trailing harmlessly but pants-throbbingly along the skin where his shirt met his jeans. The last few hours, Spike had been…charming. And a charming Spike was a force to be reckoned with.
At some point, little baggies and matching pipes started circulating. The drugs made Xander a little nervous. He’d never really ventured beyond alcohol before, didn’t have anyone to venture with, and he didn’t want to look stupid in front of his new friends, just when they were beginning to see him as something other than a burdensome little kid.
Oz jiggled a tin of little pills towards him, and Xander took it on reflex. He was studying them, just pondering whether he was supposed to take one or pass them on, when Spike plucked the tin languidly from his fingers and leaned across the gap in the circle to pass them to Angel.
Xander hesitated. “What were those?”
“Ecstasy,” Spike murmured in his ear matter-of-factly.
“Oh.” Xander tried to make it sound like he knew that, in that one syllable, but it didn’t seem like Spike cared one way or the other. That or he already knew that Xander was a virgin to drug use, too. Xander hesitated, then tried to pass his next question off as a joke. “So what gives with the passing? Thought you’d want me all…you know, horny.”
Spike laughed against his ear like black silk. “I think we both know that we don’t need a drug for that, pet.” The fingers that had been stroking the sensitive skin at Xander’s bellybutton skipped lower, over his erection that was, yes, already in the game. How could he not be, with these casual touches, and the heat of Spike’s body soaking into his back? “No, when this happens-and it will happen tonight, Xander, make no mistake-it’s just going to be you, and me, and the happy chemicals our bodies are makin’ all on their own.”
Spike continued to stroke firm fingertips over Xander’s cock through his jeans, making him shudder and squirm. Suddenly Xander caught Lindsey’s eye, and the cowboy smirked and looked blatantly down to where Xander was being fondled. Mortified, he slapped Spike’s hand away, but when he looked at Spike, the man was only grinning smugly. Like he knew something Xander didn’t. Which wasn’t a stretch, since he knew a lot of things Xander didn’t.
When Oz casually passed a little glass pipe with a lighter into Spike’s outstretched hand, Xander’s stomach clenched with anxiety. He stole a surreptitious glance around the circle, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him. Darla had climbed into Lindsey’s lap and was making his day, by the looks of it, while stealing glances at Angel, who couldn’t care less. Those not involved in conversation seemed caught up in watching that byplay.
Xander turned his head slightly, as casually as he could manage, and watched Spike fiddle with the stuff in the bowl of the pipe with the back of the lighter. When he seemed satisfied by whatever secret requirement, he wrapped his lips around the end of the pipe and snicked the cheap plastic lighter over the bowl. He was doing something with his thumb, and it all looked a lot more complicated than you would expect inhaling smoke would be.
Spike froze with the smoke in his lungs, and when it looked like he might be passing the whole thing to Xander, pipe and lighter, Xander shook his head and smiled. “No, thanks, I think I’ll just-”
Spike turned Xander's face with two fingers on his chin and sealed his mouth over Xander’s and exhaled, tongue flickering lightly along the inner seam of his parted lips. Xander sucked the smoke in with surprise and almost immediately began to choke, but Spike wouldn’t release his mouth, and in an attempt to salvage his dignity, Xander stopped up his airway, holding in the smoke that was already burning in his lungs while preventing any more from entering.
As soon as Spike withdrew, Xander began coughing in big rough hacking spasms, hurting from his chest all the way up through his throat and into his nose. His eyes were watering, but he still saw Spike hand the horrible contraption back to Oz and then settle back with a Cheshire grin, thumping Xander gamely on the back.
Everyone was looking at him, grinning knowingly, and Xander wanted to crawl away on his belly into the dark. He wondered how much of that they’d seen. Still coughing, he made eye contact with Oz, who smiled at him gently.
“Just means you got a big hit. They’re jealous.”
Nice guy-lies through his teeth. Xander smiled his goofy smile and nodded at Oz, but as soon as everyone had resumed their regularly scheduled programs, Xander turned to Spike and narrowed his eyes. Not that that impressed Spike, but it was the principle of the thing.
“No way I’m doing that again.”
“Yes, you will.” The easy certainty in Spike’s voice dug at Xander. Unperturbed, Spike smiled breezily and scraped one fingernail low on Xander’s belly. Xander ignored the shiver it gave him.
“What happened to you and me and our happy chemicals?”
“Oh. Yeh. Well, pot’s different-natural-like, not that I believe that shite, but we need something to relax you for later, yeah?”
Spike’s tongue pressed up behind his teeth and Xander thought of his earlier promise of it happening tonight and felt heat flash up his cheeks and down to his cock.
Spike gave him a knowing look and nudged him to relax back against his chest again. “There see? No more arguments. Daddy knows best.”
The last was purred directly into his ear, five octaves too deep to be human. Spike had to be speaking sex god instead. He nipped at Xander’s ear and Xander’s hips kicked up in response. He closed his eyes and tried to settle himself before turning his attention back to the group, pretending not to be disturbed by the revelation that the word 'daddy' sent blood rushing to his groin.
Daddy issues? Surely not. Not Xander Harris, son of Tony.
Spike passed smoke to him half a dozen times, maybe more, but Xander gave up on his objections that seemed to do him about as much good as…well, none at all. He still coughed, though with Oz’s quiet coaching, it got easier.
Still, it all seemed pretty useless because Xander didn’t think he was high. His head was a little swimmy, and things were extra sharp in some places and extra soft around the edges in others: sights, sounds, sensations. But Xander’d had two or three beers, and he was a lightweight, so that was probably it. Time suspended on him, like it did when you caught a good buzz off of beer or whiskey. The jokes and laughter faded and blended, and Spike felt so warm and solid against his back. Spike shifted sometimes, to reach for his beer or in shuddering laughter, but mostly he was a solid wall for Xander to lean against drowsily. There was a point at which all Xander could focus on were Spike’s fingers, snaking from their station on Xander’s stomach to slide up under his shirt, caressing in long, languid strokes that moved at just the right pace for the floating bubble of time they were riding.
When Spike’s fingers moved stealthily downward until they were slipping inside the waistband of Xander’s loose-fitting jeans, Xander had a sudden alertness to recall that public touching led to public blushing. He took hold of Spike’s wrist and opened his eyes to object.
And got an eyeful of skin.
When had people gotten naked? Or, specifically, Angel and Faith. Because a wide-eyed, dizzying sweep of the circle confirmed that they were the nakedest, though it seemed everyone else was on their way to catching up.
And more than naked, naked together. In the Biblical sense. Really really together. On top of, inside of, together together. Faith’s head was thrown back, and Angel’s big hand was caressing her hip as she rode him.
“Shocked you right to your toes, haven’t we?” the voice of the devil said in his ear. “Poor lamb.” But Spike didn’t sound repentant, and the hand down his pants was being aided by another that was trying to free his zipper. Through the haze of smoky shock, Xander stopped him. His heart was pounding hard and he felt ready to either come right there or run away. Possibly both.
Spike tilted them and when they righted, he had procured a black shirt from the ether and was draping it over Xander’s lap.
“There,” Spike said silkily, licking his ear. “That better, pet?” There wasn’t any mockery, just smooth attentiveness that made Xander relax back against the chest that felt larger than life. Xander looked around, to find absolutely no one looking at them. Darla had finally stopped teasing Lindsey, and his focus was solely on her as she bobbed in his lap. Willow and Cordelia (holy smokes!) were turning kissing into a naked sport, and Oz was fixed on them, touching himself.
Shuddering with the alienness of it all, Xander nodded against Spike’s throat and Spike opened Xander’s jeans under their impromptu blanket and took his cock out. Xander felt his eyes drawn inexorably towards the couple that had shocked him before. They were really pretty, in a dark sort of way. Intense together, and Faith really seemed to be enjoying herself, if the things coming out of her mouth were anything to go by.
Even though they were a distance from the other campers, people had to be able to hear. The thought made his balls tight.
Spike squeezed Xander’s cock lightly, running his thumb over the head so that it dragged into the slit. Xander whined and arched back against Spike’s chest, and it was so very obvious what was going on under that shirt, but the tents sheltered them from outside eyes, somewhat, and everyone else here was having sex, for God’s sake. Unabashedly, without apology, fucking, right in front of everyone else.
Xander’s brain was a haze of lust.
“Your body wants it like a good little slut, Xander, even though what you actually are is a good little boy. Been savin’ yourself for me, haven’t you?” A tongue flicked wet against the back of his ear, and it didn’t make any sense, but Xander nodded anyway and Spike laughed. “Well. You can be a slut all you like here, and nobody will think less of you, pet. So cry for daddy.”
Spike’s hand tightened, and twisted slightly, and Xander did. He cried out for him, a wordless hoarse sound that was almost too loud. It drew a curious but unsurprised look from Oz, whose eyes dropped to the rhythmically flapping shirt in Xander’s lap, and then flicked back up again to give him the same smile he’d offered over the pot, like: It’s all good. Happens to the best of us.
Xander started to close his eyes as Spike got into a real rhythm, but Faith had begun to swear like a sailor and he couldn’t look away, not even to concentrate on his own pleasure. It was like watching porn, only in real life, with all the sounds and smells and visual detail that went with that. Only it was prettier than any porn Xander had ever seen, and not just because it was happening less than five feet away. Faith was some wild untamed thing, beautiful and feral, and it almost seemed like Angel anchored her to the earth. He was…just large, immovably so, with all that muscle, and calm, like even though he was having the hottest sex Xander had ever witnessed or imagined, it was unsurprising to him. Like it was his due. And that should have been annoying, but damned if it wasn’t just sexy.
Spike took Xander’s hand and twisted it gently behind his back, so that his palm was flat against Spike’s hard-on. “Just squeeze it and rub it a bit,” he murmured. “Not trying to get off, yet.” All Xander heard was blah blah squeeze it and rub it blah blah, but Spike seemed pleased with his interpretation, because he moaned and panted praise in Xander’s ear.
The words, the huskiness of Spike’s voice, were a reminder that this was actually real life, not just some strange dream. The realization ratcheted Xander’s arousal even further, if it was possible, and his hand convulsed on Spike’s dick, making the man growl and curse and bite at his ear. Xander couldn’t stop the full body shudder even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He felt hot and desperate, but Spike wasn’t moving quite fast enough to bring him off.
Just fast enough to drive him crazy.
“You fancy women as well?” came the seductive voice, pointed in the same direction as Xander’s eyes on Faith’s body. Xander nodded, would nod to anything just now but this was true, and Spike made a thinking sound. The bastard was thinking. Just then Angel started fucking up into Faith hard and furious, like his zen was interrupted by the come in his balls, and he was a little angry about that. He gripped her asscheeks in two large palms and pulled them apart, so Xander could see the rapid slap-slap-slap of Angel into Faith. Xander whined and scrambled farther back into Spike, just wanting…wanting.
Spike’s other hand was cupping Xander’s balls, not squeezing or tugging like he needed them to, just holding him there. “God, pet, love the way you’re squirmin’ against me. So hot for it….” Spike’s voice was rough, and just when the sexual frenzy around them had turned Xander into a white-hot ball of need and lust and desperation, Spike’s ball-cupping hand slid lower and gently, teasingly brushed against Xander’s hole and Xander let out a strangled scream and shot his load in a pained convulsion against the material covering his crotch.
“Yeah that’s it. Breathe. ‘S how it’s gonna be between us, innit? ‘Salright, I’ve got you.”
Xander was still shaking from orgasm as Spike used the shirt on his lap to clean him up and then tucked him away inside his jeans. The shirt was tossed aside, and then Spike was urging him to turn around.
They kissed, and eventually Xander found himself sort of on his back, with Spike half on top of him. Spike’s hands were frisky, roaming all over from threading themselves through Xander’s hair to slipping inside his jeans where they might squeeze at his ass. When Spike didn’t make a move to undress either of them, Xander just relaxed and enjoyed the sensation, and the way his buzz, or his high, or whatever this was, allowed him to focus in on Spike’s mouth and body and warm palms and gather nothing from the outside world except the pleasure chorus of moans and grunts and gasps from the people around them.
They kissed for a long time, until Xander was hard again, really hard, and then Spike pulled away despite Xander’s needy whimper. He stood, and extended a hand.
“I’ve got my own tent.”
And Xander realized he felt more sober. Not sober, but more sober. And that was an important distinction, because when he realized what was being offered, along with that hand and that tent, he was able to think it over without being so nervous he wanted to yark in the bushes.
He hesitated only for a moment before he took what was being offered, and Spike hefted him off the ground.
mel must have a tent fetish. off we go, to the sex!