(no subject)
Title: Revenge
Author: batmanvinnie a.k.a. Alice
Rating: Mature. So if you don’t like M/M smut, you’ve been warned!
Pairing: Spike/Xander (mmm… Spander)
Summary: Spike decides to get his revenge.
Disclaimer: Guess what? I don’t own any of these characters! I’m po’ with student loans.
Author’s Note 1: // indicates thoughts.
Author’s Note 2: Takes place post-chip, only Xander and Anya never got together.
Author’s Note 3: This is the first smutty slash piece I’ve actually written, so I would really appreciate reviews and HELPFUL criticism. Thanks! I may actually continue this storyline, so let me know what you think.
***
Spike followed on silent feet as the Scoobies thrashed through the forest. He’d been out looking for a fight when he’d heard them chatting about a demon. Out of curiosity and a lust for violence, he’d followed them. Spike had started following the excursion half an hour ago and it was now nearing ten-thirty; he was bored. Leaping from the shadows, he watched with a perverse joy as the group jumped and the smell of fear increased.
“’Ello. What’s this I hear about demon hunting?”
Buffy glared at him as her heart slowed. “Good, you’re here. We’re looking for a demon, it’s an Oregano-ash-.”
“Orenashk,” Giles corrected.
“Right, Orenashk, whatever. Apparently not too bright, but it’s covered in magic so we can’t cut through it.”
“Yes, its scales have magical properties, as does its blood,” Giles explained to the slayer… again. “Killing it is rather difficult, as the scales are virtually indestructible. The only way to kill it is to actually attack it from beneath, going under the scales.”
Spike smirked. “So let me get this straight, you have to get close enough to a six-foot demon with razor-sharp teeth to drive a sword up into its belly, under the scales.” He laughed; “Good luck.”
Giles removed his glasses and began polishing them. “Well, they have been killed in the past; it isn’t impossible, just difficult.”
“Ah, sounds fun. Any spells for Red to use?” Spike asked, falling in with the group as they resumed their trek. He nodded towards Willow, who smiled back at him.
“Unfortunately, no. Its scales protect it from magic. It can’t be affected by spells. It was created to be an unstoppable warrior of sorts, but they are rather unruly.”
As the group tramped through the brush, Xander shoved Spike aside. Growling, Spike lunged at Xander, only to be stopped by Willow’s outstretched hand.
“Oi! Whelp! What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Xander shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, wait, maybe it was you calling my parents to confirm my order from ‘Whips and Chains, etc.!’”
Grinding his teeth, Xander sidestepped the vampire; he didn’t want to deal with Spike right then.
“Well then you shouldn’t have added habanera juice to m’ blood, ya’ stupid wanker!” Spike shot back, lighting a cigarette. With a smirk, he continued. “Sides, you seem like you might enjoy getting’ spanked, ya poof.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Xander yelled, charging at the vampire. Giles dropped his ax, grabbing Xander’s arms.
“Calm down Xander; he’s just trying to provoke you.” Jaw clenched, Xander backed away.
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. Turning away from the grinning vampire, he shot Spike a cold glare.
“Oh, certainly got your knickers in a twist. Methinks the boy doth protest too much,” Spike taunted. In truth, he did have his suspicious about the boy’s sexuality, but he figured Xander was just too repressed to admit it. Since he couldn't actually torture Xander, he figured teasing him about the issue would have to suffice.
“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy yelled. “We don’t need this crap tonight. Some weird Oreo-cash demon has been killing hobos and we need to figure out to kill it!”
“It’s Orenashk, Buffy. And yes, we do need to figure this out. Soon it will venture out of the forest and start….”
Spike stopped listening to Giles' dark warning, chipping the black polish from his nails.
//Stupid brat, messin’ with my blood.//
The complete impotence of his chipped existence was beginning to wear on him. Despite his grumbling, he had become accustomed to killing demons for fun instead of humans. What bothered him was the inability to defend or feed himself. He was Master Vampire for Christ’s sake, and he had to put up with pranks from the Zeppo. Had Spike been an innocent bystander, he would have admitted that the prank was funny. Yet for some odd reason, he hated seeming weak around the whelp.
Spike longed for revenge. He dreamt of nailing the boy to a wall and slowly removing his organs. Just imaging the git’s scream….
“Spike, have you ever fought an Orenashk demon?” Giles’ clipped voice brought him back to reality.
“Yeah, once. Nasty buggers, full of mojo.” He stopped; he hadn’t actually chosen to fight it, he’d killed it under orders from Dru. She’d needed its blood for a dream spell. As he reviewed the event from fifty years ago, he grinned. Sure, he couldn’t kill the whelp, but he could still get revenge. An eager bounce is his step, he started to plan. He may not be able to kill like a master-vamp, but he could sure as hell plan like one.
***
Spike drove the sword up into the Orenashk demon’s gut, sliding the blade under the shining maroon scales. Pulling the blade out almost all of its length, he changed the entry angle, driving it up under the demon's ribcage and into the demon’s heart. With an ear-piercing shriek, it collapsed onto the ground.
Spike stepped away from the corpse and tossed the bloody, borrowed sword back to Xander.
“So, ya gonna keep it, Watcher?” Shaking his head against the ringing in his ears, Giles looked at the blonde vampire confused. Xander stood behind Giles, muttering under his breath as he cleaned off the sword. He hadn’t spoken to Spike since their argument.
“Keep it?” Giles mumbled.
“Yeah, Dru liked to use the blood for spells. Said it was powerful stuff,” Spike said with a shrug; for his plan to work, he needed to play the Watcher- and Red- just right.
“What did she use it for?” Willow asked, excited. Spike rolled his eyes.
“Don’t bloody know, do I? Magic isn’t really my thing. Was just wondering is all.”
Giles and Willow exchanged glances.
“Well, if its blood does indeed contain mystical properties, we shouldn’t just leave it here,” Giles rationalized. Willow nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, we don't want some evil creature coming by and using the blood for bad stuff." Spike smirked.
Xander looked at the demon’s broad, six-foot body and frowned. “Um, just a small point; but how are we going to get this back to the shop?”
* * *
It was 12:06 when Spike knocked on the basement door; after dropping off the corpse at the Magic Box, he’d quickly pilfered the magic ingredients needed for the spell while the Scoobies has studied the demon corpse. As he’d mixed the potion, he’d been struck with an image of Dru laughing she danced under the stars, choosing her victim’s dream. But what kind of dream works for revenge? A horrific, violent nightmare featuring Scooby-death? A realistic dream of Xander’s torture and death?
//Oh, the whelp turned into a vampire and killing his friends!//
The door opened, revealing a sleepy and annoyed Xander Harris. A shirtless, rumpled Xander Harris.
“Whaddya want, Fangless?”
Gritting his teeth, Spike recited his lines. “Just wanted to apologize, alright? Prank went too far, didn’t meant for you to get that upset,” he mumbled. Xander blinked.
“Wait, you’re apologizing? You, William the Bloody, member of the Scourge, Slayer of Slayers? I’m humbled, truly.” Xander rolled his eyes and started to shut the door.
“Well I have to deal with you, don’t I? Sides, the Red seemed mad and I don’t wanna be on her bad side.” A fake smile on his face, Spike clapped his hand on the boy’s shoulder in a hollow gesture of male solidarity and friendship. The Scooby frowned, looking at Spike’s hand as confusion and -desire?- suddenly scented the air. The potion Spike’s hand left behind what looked like a dirt smudge against Xander’s tanned skin.
Xander snorted. “Should have known you’d have an angle. Just go away,” he muttered. Yawning, Xander turned away from Spike.
“Always do, Whelp.” Right as the door closed, Spike voiced the first idea that came to mind. In an inaudible whisper, he commanded: “Dream of me fucking you into submission.”
***
It was well after one a.m. From his seat outside the basement window, Spike could see the whelp sleeping on the fold-out couch. The boy’s breath was smooth and even, his eyes rolled around under closed lids. He growled low in this throat.
//Soddin’ spell. S’possed to be fuckin’ workin’ by now.//
Frowning, he reviewed the ingredients and the spell. As far as he could tell, he’d done everything right and the boy was dreaming. But had the spell had gone right, Xander should have started having the dreams about half an hour ago. It was the perfect revenge; it would get in the whelp’s mind, upset him, and he’d never know Spike had caused it. He growled; maybe it was the dream he picked, maybe there were rules to it he didn't follow.
//Stupid idea anyways. What in the hell made me pick that?//
Snarling, Spike turned and headed towards his crypt, puffing on a third cigarette. //Fucking magic.//
***
Slowly, Xander became aware of his surroundings. He was hanging by his wrists, his toes barely reaching the floor. It was a shapeless room, a single overhead light bulb creating a bright ring of light around him while casting the corners into darkness.
“You’re awake, Pet.” Xander froze in fear; Spike. It was then Xander realized that his clothing was gone, which only increased his sense of vulnerability, as did the gag in his mouth. He shivered as he felt a cool hand touch his back, and tried to jerk away. Groaning, he realized his legs were chained to the floor, his legs spread open.
“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this, wanted me,” Spike whispered, his hands trailing down the warm back. The boy’s warmth seemed almost electric, and the feeling of blood pulsing under the tanned skin clenched Spike’s stomach. The tanned back was broad, corded with muscles. Slowly he trailed his fingers down the spine, tracing the indentations of vertebrae.
Xander grit his teeth, suppressing a moan of longing. Somehow, being under Spike’s control seemed right. The feeling of those cool fingers skimming his back sent heat to his middle, centering in his groin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to ignore the desire that was filling his cock with blood.
Spike leaned forward, burying his head in the boy’s neck. He inhaled that unique scent, letting it fill him. Fear, desire, and guilt- a heady combination. In response to the boy’s reluctant desire, his own arousal was growing. He dabbed his tongue against Xander’s pulse, his cock hardening from the warm and tantalizing tattoo of the boy’s blood. Slowly, he skimmed his hands up the heated torso, scraping his nails over the boy’s nipples; he repeated the movement after Xander whimpered. He stepped forward, pressing himself against the warm back, cradling his erection in the cleft of Xander' s ass.
Xander’s breathing sped up as he felt the cool erection pressed against him so intimately. It felt large and he didn’t even want to THINK about where Spike was going to put that. Panic began building in his mind, but when blunt teeth bit the tender flesh of his neck, lust overrode all objections. Spike began sucking on the abused flesh, and Xander bucked from the sensation. Every nerve ending in his body was awake, the electricity of Spike’s cold touch reverberating through his body and making him harder. God help him, he wanted this, wanted Spike.
Spike began rocking slowly against Xander, moving his mouth to an earlobe. He bit it, then released it and whispered.
“You’re delicious. Could spend days tasting you.” The air ghosted across the wet earlobe and Xander moaned against his gag. The cool fingers returned to his nipples, twisting and pinching. Any logical protest evaporated as pleasure arched his body into a tight bow. He started struggling against his chains, willing to do anything as long as Spike relieved the ache. One hand slid down, enclosing Xander’s drooling cock in a tight fist. Xander bucked at the sensation, his movements caressing Spike’s cock and drawing a hiss from his captor. Chuckling, Spike began pumping his fist, enjoying Xander’s tortured writhings.
//Like a worm on a hook// he mused, brushing his thumb over the drooling, purple head. Spike rocked harder against the boy’s body, the warmth seeping into his skin. Smiling, he reached up and removed the gag.
“Want me to stop, Whelp?” he smirked.
“Oh God no, please. Please, Spike, I can’t, I don’t know. Feels so good, so fucking good, but more, need more,” Xander babbled in response. Spike slowed his movements.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll take care of you,” He promised, his voice low and husky.
“I don’t know!” he wailed. Gritting his teeth, Spike stopped completely.
“Tell me what you want.” Xander sobbed.
“Please, Spike! Please just fuck me!”
Growling, Spike's game face surfaced. Grabbing Xander’s hips, he spread the ass open. At the site of his goal, the twitching pink hole, he lost control all control. Roaring, he rammed himself in to the boy’s ass.
Xander sobbed in relief; there was no pain, only a fullness and flash of pleasure. Whatever Spike had hit inside him had felt good. Really fucking good. Spike pulled out, almost all of the way, and then slammed himself back in. The boy’s inner muscles massaged his cock perfectly until he was aware of nothing else but the clasping warmth; he barely even registered the boy’s pleas for more. He roared again, slamming into Xander’s ass one last time as he sank his fangs into the boy’s neck, blood spurting onto his tongue.
* * *
Spike’s eyelids snapped open. He immediately registered three things. One, he was alone is his crypt. Two, he was breathing hard. Three, his sheets were wet with come. Spike thought back to the vivid dream, his cock hardening immediately. He groaned.
“Fucking magic.”
* * *
The Following Afternoon…
A joyful, whistling Xander strolled into the Magic Box, a box of donuts tucked under his arm. As he dropped it on the table, Willow came downstairs.
“Hey Xan!” she called. She walked quickly towards him, throwing her arms around him. “You’re in a good mood today. Sleep well?”
Xander smiled. “I slept great.
“That’s good,” she smiled, grabbing a donut from the box.
“Although Spike stopped by and apologized for being, well, evil,” he recalled, his brow twisted in confusion, his eyes glazing over at the memory. Willow laughed.
“Okay Xander, I know you’re confused right now about whether you're are gay or bi, and whatever you turn out to be, that’s fine. But getting dreamy eyes over Spike? That’s just weird.”
Xander snapped out of his reverie and jumped to his feet, shaking his head. “Nononononono! That was not okay. I so don’t have a thing for the Bleached Menace! You take that back!”
Laughing, she held her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I mistook your ‘dreaming-of-staking-Spike’ look for a ‘dreaming-of-staking-Spike’ look. My mistake, won’t happen again.”
Xander opened his mouth to argue, but instead dropped into his chair, dejectedly looking through the donut box.
Studying him, Willow shrugged, then frowned.
“What do you have on under your shirt?”
Blushing, Xander pulled out a small leather pouch hanging from his neck. “This? I came across a spell, a reverse protection spell. You know, whatever spell someone puts on me goes back on them. I figured with my luck, it would be a good idea.”
His brow suddenly furrowed in thought. “I wonder if anyone’s tried putting a spell on me lately.”
Willow’s face brightened; “Oh! There’s an energy spell we can do and it traces-.”
“Um, nevermind Wills. I’m probably just being paranoid.”
Xander shook his head and pulled out a sprinkled chocolate donut. Taking a bite, he savored the sugary, chocolaty goodness on his tongue. It was a great day.
Author: batmanvinnie a.k.a. Alice
Rating: Mature. So if you don’t like M/M smut, you’ve been warned!
Pairing: Spike/Xander (mmm… Spander)
Summary: Spike decides to get his revenge.
Disclaimer: Guess what? I don’t own any of these characters! I’m po’ with student loans.
Author’s Note 1: // indicates thoughts.
Author’s Note 2: Takes place post-chip, only Xander and Anya never got together.
Author’s Note 3: This is the first smutty slash piece I’ve actually written, so I would really appreciate reviews and HELPFUL criticism. Thanks! I may actually continue this storyline, so let me know what you think.
***
Spike followed on silent feet as the Scoobies thrashed through the forest. He’d been out looking for a fight when he’d heard them chatting about a demon. Out of curiosity and a lust for violence, he’d followed them. Spike had started following the excursion half an hour ago and it was now nearing ten-thirty; he was bored. Leaping from the shadows, he watched with a perverse joy as the group jumped and the smell of fear increased.
“’Ello. What’s this I hear about demon hunting?”
Buffy glared at him as her heart slowed. “Good, you’re here. We’re looking for a demon, it’s an Oregano-ash-.”
“Orenashk,” Giles corrected.
“Right, Orenashk, whatever. Apparently not too bright, but it’s covered in magic so we can’t cut through it.”
“Yes, its scales have magical properties, as does its blood,” Giles explained to the slayer… again. “Killing it is rather difficult, as the scales are virtually indestructible. The only way to kill it is to actually attack it from beneath, going under the scales.”
Spike smirked. “So let me get this straight, you have to get close enough to a six-foot demon with razor-sharp teeth to drive a sword up into its belly, under the scales.” He laughed; “Good luck.”
Giles removed his glasses and began polishing them. “Well, they have been killed in the past; it isn’t impossible, just difficult.”
“Ah, sounds fun. Any spells for Red to use?” Spike asked, falling in with the group as they resumed their trek. He nodded towards Willow, who smiled back at him.
“Unfortunately, no. Its scales protect it from magic. It can’t be affected by spells. It was created to be an unstoppable warrior of sorts, but they are rather unruly.”
As the group tramped through the brush, Xander shoved Spike aside. Growling, Spike lunged at Xander, only to be stopped by Willow’s outstretched hand.
“Oi! Whelp! What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Xander shrugged, feigning innocence. “Oh, wait, maybe it was you calling my parents to confirm my order from ‘Whips and Chains, etc.!’”
Grinding his teeth, Xander sidestepped the vampire; he didn’t want to deal with Spike right then.
“Well then you shouldn’t have added habanera juice to m’ blood, ya’ stupid wanker!” Spike shot back, lighting a cigarette. With a smirk, he continued. “Sides, you seem like you might enjoy getting’ spanked, ya poof.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Xander yelled, charging at the vampire. Giles dropped his ax, grabbing Xander’s arms.
“Calm down Xander; he’s just trying to provoke you.” Jaw clenched, Xander backed away.
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. Turning away from the grinning vampire, he shot Spike a cold glare.
“Oh, certainly got your knickers in a twist. Methinks the boy doth protest too much,” Spike taunted. In truth, he did have his suspicious about the boy’s sexuality, but he figured Xander was just too repressed to admit it. Since he couldn't actually torture Xander, he figured teasing him about the issue would have to suffice.
“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy yelled. “We don’t need this crap tonight. Some weird Oreo-cash demon has been killing hobos and we need to figure out to kill it!”
“It’s Orenashk, Buffy. And yes, we do need to figure this out. Soon it will venture out of the forest and start….”
Spike stopped listening to Giles' dark warning, chipping the black polish from his nails.
//Stupid brat, messin’ with my blood.//
The complete impotence of his chipped existence was beginning to wear on him. Despite his grumbling, he had become accustomed to killing demons for fun instead of humans. What bothered him was the inability to defend or feed himself. He was Master Vampire for Christ’s sake, and he had to put up with pranks from the Zeppo. Had Spike been an innocent bystander, he would have admitted that the prank was funny. Yet for some odd reason, he hated seeming weak around the whelp.
Spike longed for revenge. He dreamt of nailing the boy to a wall and slowly removing his organs. Just imaging the git’s scream….
“Spike, have you ever fought an Orenashk demon?” Giles’ clipped voice brought him back to reality.
“Yeah, once. Nasty buggers, full of mojo.” He stopped; he hadn’t actually chosen to fight it, he’d killed it under orders from Dru. She’d needed its blood for a dream spell. As he reviewed the event from fifty years ago, he grinned. Sure, he couldn’t kill the whelp, but he could still get revenge. An eager bounce is his step, he started to plan. He may not be able to kill like a master-vamp, but he could sure as hell plan like one.
***
Spike drove the sword up into the Orenashk demon’s gut, sliding the blade under the shining maroon scales. Pulling the blade out almost all of its length, he changed the entry angle, driving it up under the demon's ribcage and into the demon’s heart. With an ear-piercing shriek, it collapsed onto the ground.
Spike stepped away from the corpse and tossed the bloody, borrowed sword back to Xander.
“So, ya gonna keep it, Watcher?” Shaking his head against the ringing in his ears, Giles looked at the blonde vampire confused. Xander stood behind Giles, muttering under his breath as he cleaned off the sword. He hadn’t spoken to Spike since their argument.
“Keep it?” Giles mumbled.
“Yeah, Dru liked to use the blood for spells. Said it was powerful stuff,” Spike said with a shrug; for his plan to work, he needed to play the Watcher- and Red- just right.
“What did she use it for?” Willow asked, excited. Spike rolled his eyes.
“Don’t bloody know, do I? Magic isn’t really my thing. Was just wondering is all.”
Giles and Willow exchanged glances.
“Well, if its blood does indeed contain mystical properties, we shouldn’t just leave it here,” Giles rationalized. Willow nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, we don't want some evil creature coming by and using the blood for bad stuff." Spike smirked.
Xander looked at the demon’s broad, six-foot body and frowned. “Um, just a small point; but how are we going to get this back to the shop?”
* * *
It was 12:06 when Spike knocked on the basement door; after dropping off the corpse at the Magic Box, he’d quickly pilfered the magic ingredients needed for the spell while the Scoobies has studied the demon corpse. As he’d mixed the potion, he’d been struck with an image of Dru laughing she danced under the stars, choosing her victim’s dream. But what kind of dream works for revenge? A horrific, violent nightmare featuring Scooby-death? A realistic dream of Xander’s torture and death?
//Oh, the whelp turned into a vampire and killing his friends!//
The door opened, revealing a sleepy and annoyed Xander Harris. A shirtless, rumpled Xander Harris.
“Whaddya want, Fangless?”
Gritting his teeth, Spike recited his lines. “Just wanted to apologize, alright? Prank went too far, didn’t meant for you to get that upset,” he mumbled. Xander blinked.
“Wait, you’re apologizing? You, William the Bloody, member of the Scourge, Slayer of Slayers? I’m humbled, truly.” Xander rolled his eyes and started to shut the door.
“Well I have to deal with you, don’t I? Sides, the Red seemed mad and I don’t wanna be on her bad side.” A fake smile on his face, Spike clapped his hand on the boy’s shoulder in a hollow gesture of male solidarity and friendship. The Scooby frowned, looking at Spike’s hand as confusion and -desire?- suddenly scented the air. The potion Spike’s hand left behind what looked like a dirt smudge against Xander’s tanned skin.
Xander snorted. “Should have known you’d have an angle. Just go away,” he muttered. Yawning, Xander turned away from Spike.
“Always do, Whelp.” Right as the door closed, Spike voiced the first idea that came to mind. In an inaudible whisper, he commanded: “Dream of me fucking you into submission.”
***
It was well after one a.m. From his seat outside the basement window, Spike could see the whelp sleeping on the fold-out couch. The boy’s breath was smooth and even, his eyes rolled around under closed lids. He growled low in this throat.
//Soddin’ spell. S’possed to be fuckin’ workin’ by now.//
Frowning, he reviewed the ingredients and the spell. As far as he could tell, he’d done everything right and the boy was dreaming. But had the spell had gone right, Xander should have started having the dreams about half an hour ago. It was the perfect revenge; it would get in the whelp’s mind, upset him, and he’d never know Spike had caused it. He growled; maybe it was the dream he picked, maybe there were rules to it he didn't follow.
//Stupid idea anyways. What in the hell made me pick that?//
Snarling, Spike turned and headed towards his crypt, puffing on a third cigarette. //Fucking magic.//
***
Slowly, Xander became aware of his surroundings. He was hanging by his wrists, his toes barely reaching the floor. It was a shapeless room, a single overhead light bulb creating a bright ring of light around him while casting the corners into darkness.
“You’re awake, Pet.” Xander froze in fear; Spike. It was then Xander realized that his clothing was gone, which only increased his sense of vulnerability, as did the gag in his mouth. He shivered as he felt a cool hand touch his back, and tried to jerk away. Groaning, he realized his legs were chained to the floor, his legs spread open.
“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this, wanted me,” Spike whispered, his hands trailing down the warm back. The boy’s warmth seemed almost electric, and the feeling of blood pulsing under the tanned skin clenched Spike’s stomach. The tanned back was broad, corded with muscles. Slowly he trailed his fingers down the spine, tracing the indentations of vertebrae.
Xander grit his teeth, suppressing a moan of longing. Somehow, being under Spike’s control seemed right. The feeling of those cool fingers skimming his back sent heat to his middle, centering in his groin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to ignore the desire that was filling his cock with blood.
Spike leaned forward, burying his head in the boy’s neck. He inhaled that unique scent, letting it fill him. Fear, desire, and guilt- a heady combination. In response to the boy’s reluctant desire, his own arousal was growing. He dabbed his tongue against Xander’s pulse, his cock hardening from the warm and tantalizing tattoo of the boy’s blood. Slowly, he skimmed his hands up the heated torso, scraping his nails over the boy’s nipples; he repeated the movement after Xander whimpered. He stepped forward, pressing himself against the warm back, cradling his erection in the cleft of Xander' s ass.
Xander’s breathing sped up as he felt the cool erection pressed against him so intimately. It felt large and he didn’t even want to THINK about where Spike was going to put that. Panic began building in his mind, but when blunt teeth bit the tender flesh of his neck, lust overrode all objections. Spike began sucking on the abused flesh, and Xander bucked from the sensation. Every nerve ending in his body was awake, the electricity of Spike’s cold touch reverberating through his body and making him harder. God help him, he wanted this, wanted Spike.
Spike began rocking slowly against Xander, moving his mouth to an earlobe. He bit it, then released it and whispered.
“You’re delicious. Could spend days tasting you.” The air ghosted across the wet earlobe and Xander moaned against his gag. The cool fingers returned to his nipples, twisting and pinching. Any logical protest evaporated as pleasure arched his body into a tight bow. He started struggling against his chains, willing to do anything as long as Spike relieved the ache. One hand slid down, enclosing Xander’s drooling cock in a tight fist. Xander bucked at the sensation, his movements caressing Spike’s cock and drawing a hiss from his captor. Chuckling, Spike began pumping his fist, enjoying Xander’s tortured writhings.
//Like a worm on a hook// he mused, brushing his thumb over the drooling, purple head. Spike rocked harder against the boy’s body, the warmth seeping into his skin. Smiling, he reached up and removed the gag.
“Want me to stop, Whelp?” he smirked.
“Oh God no, please. Please, Spike, I can’t, I don’t know. Feels so good, so fucking good, but more, need more,” Xander babbled in response. Spike slowed his movements.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll take care of you,” He promised, his voice low and husky.
“I don’t know!” he wailed. Gritting his teeth, Spike stopped completely.
“Tell me what you want.” Xander sobbed.
“Please, Spike! Please just fuck me!”
Growling, Spike's game face surfaced. Grabbing Xander’s hips, he spread the ass open. At the site of his goal, the twitching pink hole, he lost control all control. Roaring, he rammed himself in to the boy’s ass.
Xander sobbed in relief; there was no pain, only a fullness and flash of pleasure. Whatever Spike had hit inside him had felt good. Really fucking good. Spike pulled out, almost all of the way, and then slammed himself back in. The boy’s inner muscles massaged his cock perfectly until he was aware of nothing else but the clasping warmth; he barely even registered the boy’s pleas for more. He roared again, slamming into Xander’s ass one last time as he sank his fangs into the boy’s neck, blood spurting onto his tongue.
* * *
Spike’s eyelids snapped open. He immediately registered three things. One, he was alone is his crypt. Two, he was breathing hard. Three, his sheets were wet with come. Spike thought back to the vivid dream, his cock hardening immediately. He groaned.
“Fucking magic.”
* * *
The Following Afternoon…
A joyful, whistling Xander strolled into the Magic Box, a box of donuts tucked under his arm. As he dropped it on the table, Willow came downstairs.
“Hey Xan!” she called. She walked quickly towards him, throwing her arms around him. “You’re in a good mood today. Sleep well?”
Xander smiled. “I slept great.
“That’s good,” she smiled, grabbing a donut from the box.
“Although Spike stopped by and apologized for being, well, evil,” he recalled, his brow twisted in confusion, his eyes glazing over at the memory. Willow laughed.
“Okay Xander, I know you’re confused right now about whether you're are gay or bi, and whatever you turn out to be, that’s fine. But getting dreamy eyes over Spike? That’s just weird.”
Xander snapped out of his reverie and jumped to his feet, shaking his head. “Nononononono! That was not okay. I so don’t have a thing for the Bleached Menace! You take that back!”
Laughing, she held her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I mistook your ‘dreaming-of-staking-Spike’ look for a ‘dreaming-of-staking-Spike’ look. My mistake, won’t happen again.”
Xander opened his mouth to argue, but instead dropped into his chair, dejectedly looking through the donut box.
Studying him, Willow shrugged, then frowned.
“What do you have on under your shirt?”
Blushing, Xander pulled out a small leather pouch hanging from his neck. “This? I came across a spell, a reverse protection spell. You know, whatever spell someone puts on me goes back on them. I figured with my luck, it would be a good idea.”
His brow suddenly furrowed in thought. “I wonder if anyone’s tried putting a spell on me lately.”
Willow’s face brightened; “Oh! There’s an energy spell we can do and it traces-.”
“Um, nevermind Wills. I’m probably just being paranoid.”
Xander shook his head and pulled out a sprinkled chocolate donut. Taking a bite, he savored the sugary, chocolaty goodness on his tongue. It was a great day.