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HP.Black Shadows
FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination Home Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Just In All New Stories New Chapters Communities General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Forums General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Dictionary Search Login Sign Up Extras AdBlocker Support/Help Privacy TOS Books » Harry Potter » Black Shadows font: B s : A A A Author: DarkSiren929 1. Inheritance and Truth2. Gringotts, Shopping and Draco3. Slytherin Manor and Settling In4. Discussions Fiction Rated: M - English - Romance/Drama - Harry P. & Draco M. - Reviews: 58 - Published: 06-25-07 - Updated: 10-18-07 id:3617176 Black Shadows Authored by: DarkAngelAthena929 Beta’ed by: ddamato Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the HP Verse, I merely borrow the characters for my mishap ideas :P Chapter One: Inheritance Harry Potter sat on his bed at number 4 Privet Drive for what he hoped would be the last time. It was exactly 5 to midnight, and as Harry sat there and recalled the last conversation he had with Hermione, before he discovered hers and Ron’s Betrayal. : Flashback : Harry sat with Hermione in the back of the library doing homework. “Harry?” she asked. “Yes, Hermione?” he questioned. “Do you know what will happen on your 17th birthday?” Harry looked at her inquisitively and then shook head. “No, Hermione. Nothing bad or weird, I hope.” She shook her head negatively. “Harry, if a witch or wizard is powerful enough, on their 17th, they will reach their full potential by receiving their inheritance gifts from their bloodlines.” “Oh?” he questioned. “Yes, I read it in that wizarding traditions book I bought last Hogsmeade weekend.” : End Flashback : Harry looked at the clock on his desk and noticed it was exactly midnight, and he quickly threw up a Silencing Charm. As soon as the charm was up, he felt a rapid fire pain shoot across his body, changing his appearance. He felt himself grow from the 5’9” he was to at least an even 6’1”. He watched in agony and amazement as his very malnourished body turned to a body with a healthy tan color and a hard, well-muscled chest. He felt his incisors grow longer and wondered if there was some sort of creature blood in his veins. He screamed in pure agony when he felt wings emerge from his back. Finally, it was over or at least the physical appearance part. He noticed also that he no longer needed his glasses. He noticed his hair had lengthened to just below his shoulders and was a color black so dark, that if put under a bright light, it shined blue. Harry was extremely worn out. He unnoticeably cast a wandless cleaning charm on the floor where all the blood had collected from the sprouting of his wings. He then turned to his bed and fell asleep. Unfortunately the second part of his inheritance was about to begin. : Dream Sequence : Harry was currently sitting by the lake at Hogwarts. “Harry.” Harry whipped his head around, only to see his parents, Sirius, and what he thought were the Founder’s and Merlin. “Mum?” he questioned softly. “Yes, Harry it’s me, but you have to let us explain why we are here.” “Alright, explain please.” Lily led her son over to the rest of the group and they sat down. “Harry, you are probably wondering why in the world you have wings and fangs?” “Sort of.” “Harry, did Dumbledore ever tell you that I was muggle-born?” “Many times.” “Well he lied to you. The Evans line is a direct descendant of Merlin, and Rowena here. I was blood adopted into the Evans line, because it was thought to be only squibs left in it. James’ families are the descendants of Godric and Helga over there. You have wings and fangs because in Salazar’s line, people have been known to be half-dragon if really powerful. By the way, your fangs are poisonous just so you know. “Am I somewhat related to Tom Riddle?” Lily looked at her son directly and said, “You are directly connected to Tom Riddle. Had I grown up with him, my name would’ve been Lily Susannah Riddle. He’s you’re Grandfather. That’s where your Slytherin blood comes from.” “No wonder the hat said I would’ve done well in Slytherin.” James interrupted Lily at this point. “Lils, we have to get moving.” “Yes, sorry.” James looked at his son and said “Harry, the other reason we are here is to pass along our powers to you.” “But, first we have to let Merlin open the part of your brain you don’t use. Merlin stepped up to Harry and said “Harry, I’m going to place my hands on your temples. My hands will glow white for a second and then you should feel a slight burning sensation. When the sensation has passed let me know, alright?” Harry nodded Merlin placed his hands where he said, and they indeed glowed white. Harry stood there, trying to ignore the burning. He couldn’t believe Dumbledore had locked this much of his mind and powers away. Of all the powers locked away, the ones he seemed most interested in were the Sano, or Heal powers, and the Blood Magic. Harry was seething. Dumbledore had locked so much of his mind away. ‘There must be something he doesn’t want me to know.’ He thought to himself. Finally, the burning stopped and Harry seemed to relax. James, Lily, and Sirius came over to him. Sirius seemed to notice his slight tenseness and reached out to him. “What’s wrong, Pup?” Harry looked at his parent’s and godfather and replied, “I have never really realized until now just how thoroughly manipulated I was.” He looked to the ground. Lily grabbed Harry’s chin and told him strongly, “Harry, none of this was your fault, only Dumbledore’s.” Sirius looked at Harry with a smile. “On a happier note, how much of your mind was unlocked?” “Sixty-six percent, and I could only use thirty percent before, so now I can use ninety-six percent.” He said happily. “Good, reading should be easier for you now.” “What powers were unlocked?” “Sano, or Heal, Blood Magic. Advoco Ignis, or Summon Fire, and Invacatio Vita, or Call Life.” “Those are some pretty neat gifts to have, Pup.” Sirius said But now, The Founder’s and I must give you our gift so we can leave this realm. We’ll start with Salazar since his are most important.” said Rowena for the first time. “Alright” Harry agreed. Salazar stepped over to Harry and said “Ready?” He nodded. “The first gift I have for you is for you to become a natural Occlumens and Legilimens. The second is the knowledge of the Dark Arts and Potions, whether they are ancient spells and potions or not. The third gift is that of my own created ParselMagic, or spells done in parseltongue, and Shadow Magic. The final gift is that I’m going to refine your control over your Blood Magic.” “And how’re you going to give me these gifts?” “Same process that Merlin opened your mind with, except it will tingle rather than burn.” “Oh.” With that, Salazar placed his hands on Harry’s temples and his hands glowed green for a moment then changed to black then a very dark red. Salazar turned to Merlin and said “I do believe you were next?” Merlin stepped over to Harry and told him “I have three gifts for you, please use them wisely and correctly.” “My gifts to you are Elemental Magic, so along with your Summon Fire and Call Life, you will be able to control and manipulate fire, water, wind, and earth. The second is Wandless Magic; you will be able to do almost every spell wandlessly, bar the unforgivables. The last is Wordless Magic, you will be able do again; most spells wordlessly, again barring the unforgivables. Whenever you’re ready?” Harry motioned for him to begin. He placed his hands on his temples, and they were glowing bright silver for all three gifts. When he removed his hands, he looked directly at Harry and told him “Remember, my Heir, that help will always come from where you are loved. I must go now; I shall see you when you enter the Beyond, hopefully not too soon though, alright? Come Salazar, we are finished here.” Salazar and Merlin walked away and faded into the shadows. Harry filed away their information in his mind behind his shields. Rowena turned to Godric and said “Our turn.” They walked over to him and Rowena said “I have four gifts for you, plus a physical gift that should be a major help. Godric, I believe you said you had 4 gifts for him?” “Yes.” He said in what Harry thought was a gruff voice, but kind nonetheless. Rowena then said “My first three gifts to you are the knowledge on Charms, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. My fourth I’m going to fix the link between you and your Grandfather. The Headmaster has manipulated it to do what he wants it to do, and he shouldn’t be able to. I warn you, the knowledge part will still tingle, however, when I fix the link it burn something awful. Also, it should unlock your telepathy gift, which means you will be able to contact him telepathically. As well as your mate, most probably.” “Ready?” Harry nodded. “I’m going to do the link first, so we can get the pain over with, alright?” Again, he nodded his head in affirmation. Rowena placed her thin, delicate hands on his temples, and the power flared a deep and decadent color of purple. He could see how many of the visions he had had were manipulated by the Headmaster. His head felt like lightning struck it, but he knew if he moved, the connection would break, so he stood there and grit his teeth.” Finally after 5 or so minutes, the pain subsided. “Need a minute?” “Please?” After a couple of minutes, he got his bearings together, and could now finally see what strong Occlumency shields were ‘supposed’ to look like, and how you were ‘supposed’ to organize your thoughts, feelings, emotions, desires, fears, etc… Harry looked at Rowena with knowing eyes. “Let’s continue,” he gestured. Rowena once again placed her hands on his temples and they were glowing a vibrant color of royal blue. As they information passed through, he sorted it away into his shields and barriers. Rowena released her hands and said “Farewell. But remember heir, trust not only your friends, but trust your enemies as well.” With that she faded away into the shadows. Godric walked over and said “I’m going to place my hands on your shoulders for part of the exchange, alright?” he said kindly and smiled at him. Harry nodded. “Two of the gifts you will receive should’ve been unlocked when you turned eleven, however, because of Dumbledore’s block on you, it didn’t. It won’t hurt to unlock them; it will just feel like you have a stinging sensation in your head. The two gifts I’m talking about are Magicus Aspectus, or Magic Sight. It allows you to read a wizard’s aura to tell how powerful they are. The lighter the color, the weaker they are. Pure Black is the Strongest, which is what you are currently. Pure White is the weakest. Dumbledore is a very dark shade of red, so he will be a powerful opponent to overcome. The other gift is something only known in my bloodline. It’s called Beast Speech. It works on all animals Magical and Muggle, except snakes and canines. Snakes are an apparent reason, as you speak Parseltongue. Canines will become apparent after you talk with your godfather later. “Let’s get these over with, so you don’t have to feel any pain any longer than you have to.” Harry agreed. Godric placed his hands on Harry’s temples and Harry stabilized himself. The glow started as a whitish-silver color, but soon turned to a radiant red. Meanwhile, Harry was again gritting his teeth, and filing away the information being transferred. “Now, the other two powers are just knowledge on Defense against the Dark Arts, and Hand-to-Hand Combat. After this, you will be able to use most weapons; however, you will have to practice them to keep the knowledge.” “When we get to the hand-to-hand combat part that is where I’ll move my hands to your shoulders.” With that he placed his hands on Harry’s temples, and his hands started glowing a dark golden color. Harry put all the knowledge into its proper place. Godric placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, they started glowing Mercury- colored silver. He watched in amazement as information on how to use a long sword, daggers, quarterstaff, katana, bow and arrow, short sword, and other weapons flew past him. He filed it all away for later use. Godric removed his hands, and started to walk away but turned around and said “Heir, my parting words for are, Trust Snape and Trust the Malfoys.” With that he faded in to shadows. Helga, the last of the founders, came up to him and told him “I only have three gifts for you, young heir, but they will undoubtedly help you in the future. I am going to give you all my knowledge on Herbology and Healing. I am going to refine your Advoco Ignis and Invacatio Vita gifts. And I’m going to refine your Elemental magic.” With that said she placed her hands on Harry’s temples and her hands changed a myriad of different colors, throughout the time they were there. She looked sadly at Harry and said “I must go now, Harry, but the all of the founders’, Merlin, and your parents and godfather are all watching over you.” She walked sadly away and faded just like all the others had done. Harry walked over to his parents and his godfather, who were staring at him proudly. Lily embraced her son, and said “You understand now, and we hope you will take our advice and try to seek out your Grandfather, for he is the one you need to fight with. You are the Dark Heir, and your refusal to be the heir has hurt him greatly.” Harry looked at his feet, “I did not understand, but I do now, and I will speak with my Grandfather, and rectify the situation that has gotten out of proportion.” Lily looked at her son appraisingly, “Thank you.” James turned to his son and said “Harry, you know how some magical beings have mates?” Harry looked at him startled for a moment, then responded “Yes, Dad.” Lily looked at her son and said “Well, you have a mate.” Harry looked astonished. Sirius decided to put his input in now. “We believe your mate to be the Malfoy heir, but only because of something that happened when you were really little.” “What happened?” he questioned “We invited Lucius and Narcissa over for tea. And of course they brought Draco.” “Well when it was both your nap time we laid you in the crib first, but when Narcissa laid Draco down, he scooted closer to you and curled around you unintentionally.” Harry looked startled for a moment then replied “Then there is a good chance that he probably is my mate. And he hates me…” Sirius looked at his godson and told him directly, “Pup, I bet if you explained the reason for denying him your friendship, and Dumbledore’s manipulations, he will understand and forgive you.” Lily and James agreed with Sirius “Prongslet, before we go, Lily and I have a gift for you. After that Sirius can give you his gifts, but then we too must go.” Harry looked at them sadly, but nodded his head anyway. Lily and James handed him a black egg, designed with silver flames intricately. Harry looked at the egg for a moment, until it started to glow. When the glowing faded, the egg started to crack. Hatched from the egg, was a beautiful black and silver phoenix, and female by the looks of it. “She’s beautiful,” he murmured, “Let me guess, you want me to blood bond with her so she will be my familiar?” “Yes.” They said together Harry summoned a blade, and cut the palm of his right hand. He let several drops of his blood fall into the silver flames atop her head. Suddenly, power oozed out from all around them, and the phoenix’s once silver-gray eyes were now a deep emerald green color.” Harry looked at his parents, who nodded approvingly “Harry, your mother and I found this phoenix egg at the back of a creature store when we were on an order mission in Africa for Dumbledore, trying to somewhat rally foreign wizards to help with the war. The proprietor of the store said that no one would buy it because it was a black phoenix, and it symbolized the Dark side, so we bought it and put a stasis charm on her until now.” “What are you going to name her?” Sirius asked Harry thought about this for a moment or so. He came to a conclusion and responded “Her name will be Shakina; it means Beautiful One in African.” “Wonderful.” His parents said. Lily and James looked at Harry sadly, and told him it was time for them to return to their own realm. They hugged him and told him they loved him, and then they faded away Harry turned to his Godfather and smiled said “Guess you wanted to talk, eh Padfoot?” Sirius smiled at his godson. “Yes, I wanted you to know that I don’t blame you, Bellatrix, or your grandfather for my subsequent death. It was all a setup, to keep you safe until your seventeenth birthday, and until you knew the truth.” Harry smiled through his tears, “Thanks, Padfoot, it means a lot.” Sirius smiled and said “Your welcome, Prongslet.” “Onto other things: Harry, did you ever wonder why Godric mentioned that canines don’t work on the Beast Speech?” Harry looked at Sirius interestingly, surprised by the question. “Yeah, I did wonder about that." He said Sirius was wearing a very sheepish expression. “Well, Harry, you know that there is a magical canine called a Grim, which symbolizes infinite bad luck?” Harry, for what seemed the thousandth time tonight, nodded his head in confirmation. “Well, Grims have their own special language. It has no particular name, I just call it Grim Speech, but it extends to all canines magical and muggle.” “Oh.” Was all Harry said. “That’s the power I’m extending to you tonight. Plus, I have one other gift, but you’ll just have to wait.” He smiled Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. “Ready, Pup?” “Ready whenever you are, Padfoot” Sirius placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, the power glowed bright gold and then faded away. Sirius smiled at his now very powerful godson. “Now what was the other gift you had, Padfoot?” Sirius looked at his godson seriously and said “This gift is a gift, but also a reminder that you should heed your more Slytherin instincts.” With that said Sirius hissed something, and Harry jumped, being surprised. Out of the sleeve of his shirt, a black snake with green and white stripes crisscrossing diagonally, obviously male, came slithering out.” Harry looked at Sirius and told him firstly, “I didn’t know you could speak Parseltongue, Padfoot” Sirius smiled slyly and said, “It is a well-hidden gift. My family has married into the Slytherin line before. My mum was mad as ever when she discovered I had the gift and Regulus didn’t.” “Alright then,” he said patiently. Harry turned to the snake and said :: You are to be my other familiar, how do I go about creating a bond with you ?:: :: You put a drop of your blood on my tongue :: Do you wish to be bonded to me:: :: I have waited a long time for this, Master, I would be honored :: When we are bonded, do not call me master, just call me Harry, alright:: :: Alright, then :: the snake replied Harry once again cut his right palm, where it had healed earlier, and let a drop of blood fall on the snake’s tongue and watched as the snake’s eyes became almost the same color as the phoenix’s, and as the green stripes became a deep green, and the white one’s became a dark silver color. :: Thank you for being my familiar :: Your most welcome, young vipera. :: Harry looked his godfather and smiled his thanks. Sirius looked at his godson and said “Your welcome, Prongslet.” Sirius looked at his godson and told him he must go, but before he faded away, he turned around and said “The Founder’s wish me to in form you that they are going to override the Headmaster’s wish to keep you in Gryffindor, and if he doesn’t resort you, then he will be ousted from Hogwarts. I also would like to tell you that when you wake up, you should probably have a letter from Gringotts waiting for you, telling you to come at earliest convenience, mostly to take care of your parents and my wills, along with your emancipation papers, and to tell you about your vaults, property and other things that Dumbledore should have told you about a long time ago. I also feel the need to tell you to go Ollivander’s Wand shop and have him make you a custom made wand. I love you, Pup, and I always will. Never forget that.” Sirius then turned around and faded into the darkness. Harry felt himself starting to wake up. : End Dream Sequence : Harry woke. He knew he should feel exhausted, but he felt totally refreshed. He looked over at his desk. The luminous alarm clock read 5:30 am. Uncle Vernon would be getting up any minute now to start getting ready for work. Unfortunately for him, Harry won’t be cooking this morning. Like Sirius had said, there was a letter on a neat scroll of parchment with the Gringotts symbol on it. It read: Dear Mr. Potter: Due to your rather large inheritance, it would be most convenient if I could speak with you at your earliest convenience. I have put in a portkey to be activated by the word “Umbra” at your convenience. It would be best if you didn’t tell the headmaster where you are going. Good day to you. Silverstone Potter family Goblin Harry smiled and thought, ‘Grandfather, I’ll seek you out when I have taken care of business at Gringotts.’ Harry got up, showered, changed into the casual robes he bought last year, and quickly fixed himself some toast, lest the Dursleys’ be angry at him. After he had finished his toast, he went upstairs and wrote a short note to the Dursleys’, stating thank you for giving a roof over his head for last 17 years, and that he was leaving and would most probably would not be coming back. He left it on the kitchen table. He packed his things, set Hedwig free from her cage and told her to wait for him at the Leaky Cauldron He looked at Shakina and told her:: Shakina, go with Hedwig and wait for me at the Leaky Cauldron, but stay out of the public’s sight. They may not take it too well if they see you. :: :: Alright, Harry, I understand. : :: Good you two, now get going; we have a long day ahead of us: He turned to his snake and asked: Do you have a name that I can call you by: : No, Harry, I don’t. You are free to name me as you wish. : Harry thought about names for a moment and tried several, but finally agreed upon Ramses, or Sun Born in African, as the snake was the magical version of a black mamba, that came from Africa. :: Do you want to curl around my arm before we go to Gringotts:: :: Yes, please. : replied Ramses. Harry held out his arm and let Ramses get comfortable. After he was, Harry shrunk Hedwig’s cage enough to fit nicely in his trunk. He shrunk his trunk down enough to fit in his pocket. He grabbed the letter from Gringotts, and clearly stated “Umbra.” He was gone in a whirl of multi-colored lights. A/N: Umbra is Latin for Shadows Sano is Latin for heal Advoco Ignis is Summon Fire in Latin Invacatio Vita is Call Life in Latin Vipera- Translation for snake in Latin FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination Home Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Just In All New Stories New Chapters Communities General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Forums General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Dictionary Search Login Sign Up Extras AdBlocker Support/Help Privacy TOS Books » Harry Potter » Black Shadows font: B s : A A A Author: DarkSiren929 1. Inheritance and Truth2. Gringotts, Shopping and Draco3. Slytherin Manor and Settling In4. Discussions Fiction Rated: M - English - Romance/Drama - Harry P. & Draco M. - Reviews: 58 - Published: 06-25-07 - Updated: 10-18-07 id:3617176 Black Shadows By: DarkAngelAthena929 Beta’ed by: ddamato Chapter Two: Gringotts, Shopping, and Draco Harry landed in front of Gringotts, a little unsteady on his feet. Ramses hissed his annoyance. It was exactly 6:45 am currently. He headed towards the front desk and waited for the line to pass. When it was his turn, he walked up and said rather icily, “I need to speak with Silverstone, in reference to my inheritance.” The goblin stared at him rather nastily and asked him, “Can you verify that you are Mr. Potter?” Harry looked over his shoulder before flashing his scar, as it was glowing a bright green color. The goblin seemed satisfied, and ordered another goblin to take him to see Silverstone. “Griphook, please take Mr. Potter to see Silverstone, if you please?” “Right this way, sir.” Harry quickly followed Griphook, as everyone turned his or her head, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed Boy-Who-Lived. Once out of everyone’s sight, he noticed he had followed Griphook into a narrow hallway off the side of the bank. It was decorated with many relics from the numerous goblin wars. “Griphook.” he said, “I remember you from the first time I was here, when you led me to my trust vault.” Griphook looked startled. “Mr. Potter, I’m surprised that you remember me. Most people do not care to remember the names of goblins, so we act cold to them.” Harry smiled at Griphook and said, “Then, the honor is all mine.” Griphook stopped at a mahogany door with a lion on it. Griphook then said, “Run your finger down the lion vertically, and the door will validate that you are the Potter Heir. Nice meeting you again, Mister Potter.” With that, Griphook walked back down the hall. Harry stared at the door skeptically, as if it would bite. He cautiously ran his finger over the lion like Griphook said. He watched in awe as the door glowed with sparkling light. The door, it seemed, had acknowledged him as the heir and opened. He walked into what could only be a very Slytherin-like office. The carpet was a lush, forest green color. The walls were paint a shade of crème. All the furniture in the room was made from imported teak. There were several silver and gold gadgets lying around. There was, however, a clock similar to Mrs. Weasley’s, except it had the goblins family, friends, and surprisingly him on it. He walked over to where Silverstone was sitting at his desk. He noticed that the Potter Family Crest was on inlaid in silver on top of it. “Ah! Mr. Potter, so glad you came so promptly and what a pleasure it is to meet you at last.” Silverstone said. “Your welcome, Silverstone.” Harry replied courteously. “I have taken the initiative of talking to your Grandfather. He said if you wished to leave your infamous name behind, you could always take the name of Riddle. You will still be recognized as the Potter and Black heirs, due to your scar. You will, from now on, after this meeting, always be recognized as the heirs of Merlin, and the Four Founder’s. You are also recognized as the Riddle and Evans heir. An uncle also left you a sizeable amount of items that belong to your mother in the Evans vault, to say in repentance ‘Sorry for the way I treated you.’” Harry smirked. Now he knew why he should ‘Trust Snape.’ Severus was an uncle of his, maybe not directly blood-related, but close enough. Harry thought about the benefits of changing his name, and the advantages were too great to deny. “I will change my name, but only my middle and last names. My first name is too widely known to become a whole new identity. I will gladly take my grandfather’s name, however.” ”Good, he’ll be happy to have his heir back. Harry, any thoughts on your middle name?” “No, not really, why?” he questioned “Well, when children are born in the wizarding world parents usually wait till they leave the hospital to name their child or children. It is custom here at Gringotts to have what is called a Naming Ritual. Your parents did this, except they didn’t use the middle name given, leaving it as an option if you wanted to change it later. Harry, your name in English means Army power. The name chosen for your middle was Marcellus, or young warrior in Latin. But it is only a suggestion.” Harry contemplated this information for a while, while walking steadily back and forth on the office carpet. He finally seemed to come to a conclusion. His eyes gleamed with delight. “My new name shall be Harry Marcellus Riddle, just like my parents’ would have wanted. “I have a question.” “Go ahead.” Silverstone riposted. “Is there any way you can slip a truthful article to an honest reporter to the Daily Prophet.” He looked at him. Silverstone looked thoughtful before replying, “I can’t because that would be breaking customer confidentiality…” Harry looked disappointed. “But,” he smirked, “I can have an honest reporter come here for an interview with you sometime next week.” Harry smirked, and said, “Agreed.” “Can you sign the name change document with this quill here?” Harry looked at the Blood Quill critically and he sighed. He knew they were meant for highly noteworthy documents, but he was still seriously incensed when he saw or had to use one. Silverstone looked at Harry and said, “I am very sentient of the fact that Dolores Umbridge misused one of these quills on you, but rest assured, I have two kinds of healing potions ready for you Harry let loose a sigh of relief. More confident now, he took the quill and signed the document with his new name. The ink glowed white, validating the signature before making itself permanent. Harry sat down the quill and look impatiently at Silverstone. He handed Harry a blue potion vial, but said, “Don’t use all of it, just about half. The second potion can’t be used until last.” Harry nodded in acquiescence, saying he understood. He opened the vial, tipped it in to his mouth and drank about half of the liquid. The words that appeared vanished. “The next set of papers is your emancipation papers.” “Alright,” Harry consented. “But first, I must ask you a slightly imperative question?” “Go ahead, Silverstone.” Harry granted “When you were eleven, did you ever sign any papers saying that you allowed Dumbledore to be the guardian of your vaults?” “No, Silverstone, I didn’t. Why?” Silverstone was angry and screeched “Dumbledore, you FOOL!” “You have just permanently violated the trust of the Gringotts goblins.” Harry narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right. “Silverstone, please explain what just happened? I don’t understand.” Harry questioned. Silverstone took a deep breath, then looked at Harry and replied. “Dumbledore has apparently forged a document with your signature of your post alias. It stated that he was to be your benefactor of your vaults until you were 21 years of age.” Harry was infuriated. He swore to himself that he was going to give the man his just deserts. Silverstone interrupted his planning. “Not only that, but he also transferred large amounts of money to the Order’s vault, as well as creating personal accounts and transferring more money to them afterward.” “Such students would be the two youngest Weasleys’ and one Hermione Granger.” “The youngest, Virginia Weasley, only has money because she has the most nefarious job of them all. Her job was to get you to fall in love with her, that way you would never recognize your mate, who will undoubtedly be a Slytherin. “He has also put money in the Weasley patriarch’s vault.” “And to top it off, he has stolen quite a few artifacts, both solid and liquid from various vaults.” He finished Harry was really livid now. “Is there any way we can get the artifacts back?” “Yes.” Silverstone said curtly. “But Dumbledore will be aware that you took your things back.” Harry paced in front of the desk, and then turned to Silverstone, smiling vindictively. “I don’t really care if Dumbledore knows; he has already controlled enough of my life.” “Very well, then.” Silverstone equalling his smile cruelly. Silverstone told him the process. Harry targeted his wand at the ceiling and said, “I, Harry Marcellus Riddle, Heir to the Evans, Riddle, Potter, and Black lines, as well as, the Four Founders’ and Merlin, command and proclaim that all artifacts, solidi et liquidi, restore themselves to their rightful places at once, Ergo hoc sum perficunt.” When he finished, he himself was glowing a rather malicious shade of red, which kept getting darker. Silverstone stated, “When the color fades away, everything will have been put away where it belongs.” “Alright, thank you,” he responded. The glowing lasted approximately 45 minutes. It was now 7:45 am. Harry felt better, now that his parents’ and grandparents’ belongings were returned to their rightful owner. Harry turned to Silverstone and asked in what could’ve been a little less polite tone. “Is there any way to restore my money as well? I want to cancel Ron, Ginny and Hermione’s personal accounts that Dumbledore set up for them.” “I want all the money that was taken to support the Order restored. As well as, half the money given to the Weasley family vault. “I want to make sure that no more money is taken and put into these accounts. I want to make sure that Dumbledore doesn’t create any more personal accounts.” “It will be done.” Silverstone replied intently. “Now for your emancipation papers.” ‘I thought this would be a quick trip to Gringotts.’ Harry thought to himself. “The papers state that you no longer need a magical guardian. You are now able to do magic outside of Hogwarts legally, and that you are free to make your own decisions regarding yourself in the wizarding world.” “I like the sound of that.” “However, you have several benefits that could be added to your papers.” “Such as,” he said a tad bit sarcastically. “Because you are the Founders’ Heir, the Hogwarts rule about curfew does not apply to you.” “Interesting… Dumbledore will hate that, so I say put it in. Any more?” “Because you are Merlin’s Heir, you are automatically granted permission to visit any of your estates at any given time, if you so choose.” Harry thought about it. “It sounds reasonable, so add it in.” Silverstone wrote the two stipulations immediately. Silverstone then said much to Harry’s relief. “We’re almost done Mr. Riddle, so if you would sign again with the quill, we will be done signing things for the day.” Harry signed the document and drank the rest of the blue potion from earlier. Harry looked at Silverstone importantly and said “You said you had another potion for me, Silverstone?” Silverstone looked at him fervently, and then said solemnly, “Mr. Riddle, what I’m about to share with you cannot be shared with anyone else, understood?” Harry nodded his assent. “I ran into Potions Master Snape a few weeks prior to today. I expressed to him, my need for a potion that would cure long-term scars created by a Blood Quill. “When he asked why, I told him that I could not give away that sort of information. “Then he asked who it was for, and all I had to say was your previous name, and he dawned in comprehension, and automatically became furious. “So, he has created this silver-like potion for you, so that you may be rid of Umbridge’s mark on you.” He finished quietly. Harry stared at the goblin in front of him and then thought to himself ‘Thank you Uncle Severus for being a potions genius; I will never make fun of you again, unless in gesture, neither will I make fun of potions.’ Harry gratefully took the potion and downed it. “You can’t tell anyone because the potion hasn’t been made public knowledge yet.” Harry smiled his appreciation and gratitude. “Now only two things left to do, Mr. Riddle! Firstly, your Family rings.” Silverstone went over to a teak cabinet and pulled out a drawer. From the drawer, he withdrew what seemed to be nine small ring boxes, each color-coded to the family. He laid five of them to the right and four of them to the left. “The ones on the right are your direct ancestors, but not exactly closely directed. The ones on the left are direct family, as in your mother, father, grandfather and such.” Silverstone stated. “I would suggest that, instead of wearing all of the rings, you transfigure each set, he pointed to the right and then to the left, into one ring each.” Harry nodded, and then started racking his brain for a transfiguration spell that would work. Finally, he thought he found one, but it was neutral, but just barely, only because you can use it to transfigure just about anything with it. “Lastly, here is a reference book to all of your standings, stocks, assets, etc.” Silverstone said. “Do you have any questions?” Silverstone asked. “Yes, I do a couple actually.” Harry replied. “Ask away then.” Silverstone said. “Firstly, is it possible to have all the money moved to one vault and all the artifacts to another?” Silverstone contemplated his answer. “Yes, it would be possible, but we would have to move you to the lower levels, which would require dragons as guardians. And you would have to ride the Express carts as well.” Harry thought about this. While he didn’t want any publicity, he was technically a whole new person, so it would be safe. “Go ahead, the advantages outweigh the disadvantages.” “Alright, I will do it after I restore your money to its proper place, and slightly compensate you for our forgery mishap.” “Anymore questions?” The goblin asked. “One question. Is there a way to withdraw large amounts of money without going to and from the bank, and is compatible with the muggle world?” “We have several types of what muggles would call ‘debit cards’. The newest one is our International Platinum Express card. You can go anywhere in the world with it. It is compatible to both the wizarding and muggle worlds. It is also keyed directly to you, so if you lost it, and someone tried to use it, it wouldn’t work,” he finished. Harry smiled widely and true at the diminutive creature he now thought of as a friend. “I think I will take that card, because I do not trust Dumbledore not to try to violate my accounts after he realizes he’s not managing them anymore. That and I have no doubt that my grandfather will send me places after I graduate, unless he decides to train me himself that is.” “Let’s go to the Main Hall so we can restore your stolen money, and compensate you for our mishap. As well as, move everything around, create your bank card, and give you time to review your information in your assets book.” Silverstone stated. “Alright, lead the way.” Harry gestured. As they came out of the hallway, the Weasley clan walked in. Ginny took notice of him almost immediately. Harry silently cursed to himself. She walked over to him and lazily, but slightly flirtatiously said, “Hi, I’m Ginny Weasley, who’re you?” He smiled cruelly at her and icily responded, “Harry Marcellus Riddle. Pleasure, I’m sure.” Ginny stiffened as she heard his name. She stuttered and made her excuses. Silverstone walked over to him and happily stated, “With all your money and assets restored to their proper places, you’ve reached the second highest amount of money in Wizarding Britain.” Harry groaned in anticipation. ‘Hopefully there are no scheming reporters around’ he thought. “Why don’t you read the assets book while someone moves your stuff around. While I create your card, it will take at least fifteen minutes for both to be finished and done.” Harry opened the assets book, and skipped the monetary evaluation of his vaults, or now vault. He went to the section that dealt with stocks. Reviewing them is always a good idea. After reviewing his stocks, and other assets, he noticed that the Weasleys’ had come back up with Hermione. Ron was angry beyond belief he was sure. “Hermione, do you know why Harry would cancel our vaults? I don’t think he even knows about them!” “Ron, calm down. Dumbledore will fix this, I assure you. Besides, like you, I want my money back so I can get my rare books and you can get your Quidditch supplies.” Harry although angry by this statement, walked calmly over to them and decided from now on the Golden Boy mask was gone. He was from here on out, going to refine and use his Slytherin instincts. “Perhaps I can enlighten you on the subject?” He glared coldly at them. “Who’re you?” They queried “You’ll know in time, for sure.” Harry responded. “However, Mr. Potter came into his birthright inheritance last night. He is, as of now, one of the richest people in Britain, as well as one of the most intellectual and powerful beings. “He is aware of Dumbledore’s manipulations of him, as well as, what he considers your ultimate betrayal. He knows the truths of his heritage and has gracefully accepted it. He has signed many documents, allowing him and his soon-to-be mate control over his vaults and estates. As well as his real family members, and people he consider's worthy as friends." “He has changed his identity, that way no one can call him ‘Potter’ any longer.” “He is the heir to eight other powerful, pureblood bloodlines besides the Potter Line. Yes, he is truly pureblood, purus natura." “He has also signed emancipation papers under his new name, with two stipulations that Dumbledore, I guarantee, won’t like." “So, all in all, Dumbledore won’t be able to restore your ‘personal’ vaults, nor will he be able to manipulate ‘Potter’ any longer.” He smiled cruelly at them. Just then, Silverstone came back with a small card. He walked over to him, and unluckily or luckily, depending how one looked at it, Ron and Hermione followed him. They stared at the newest bankcard the goblin gave to him. “Tap your wand on the Gringotts crest and say ‘pure blood’ in Latin.” Harry looked at the card, tapped it and stated coldly, “Purus Natura.” Hermione and Ron shivered at his cold tone as the card glowed white. Silverstone looked at him, asking his express permission for what he was about to do. When the goblin gestured to his ex-friends, he smirked maliciously and nodded, and therefore played along. “It was a pleasure doing business with you and your fine associates today, Silverstone; I hope we will converse more in the future.” Silverstone smiled. “It was all my pleasure, Mr. Riddle, or should I say Mr. Potter?” He smirked widely. Ron and Hermione were totally shocked. Harry then left Gringotts. When he stepped into the alley, he made a mental list of everywhere he needed to go. First, he went to Ollivander’s for his custom wand. Ollivander didn’t even seem fazed to see him. However, Ollivander, while mysterious, was very informative. During the process of the wand making, Harry called Shakina, his phoenix, and asked for one of her tail feathers as a core for his new wand. She detached a feather and went back to her hiding place. The wood that chose him was Cocobolo, native to South America. It is a purely masculine wood and its elemental association is Fire. Very suspicious, as he was an all-elemental and his main element was fire. It is good for goal-oriented people, and encourages ambition and achievement. It makes you thirst for knowledge and understanding. He then gave Ollivander the black and silver phoenix feather. He dipped the feather in what looked like basilisk blood. He said this would be one of the most powerful wands he’d probably ever create, considering the cores, and with the exception of Tom Riddle’s. When the wand was placed in his hand, he immediately knew what true power felt like; it gave him a sense of euphoria. He paid Ollivander and headed to where he might get a better and new trunk. The store was called Wizard Wares. Upon entering there was a gentleman behind the counter. “Hello, young man. What brings you here?” the proprietor asked. Harry made his face look neutral. “I need a trunk with eight compartments; the last four have requirements. Two of them must have extensive wardrobe space, as I’ll be having extensive training. Another must be a very spacious library. I’ve inherited a lot of valuable tomes and texts, and I do not wish for them to be ruined or stolen. The last requirement space must have extensive space for keeping potions and potions ingredients fresh and undamaged.” "It also must have a locking spell that is keyed to me." “Do you have the money for all that?” he asked. Harry snorted. “I’m the second richest kid in Wizarding Britain, it’s of no consequence.” He smiled at the young man. “What wood would you like and what fittings?” “Bloodwood, it is native to Bolivia, and black platinum fittings.” “But, I would also like to put several family crests on the lid of the trunk as well.” “Which family crests do you want?” The shopkeeper asked, "They and the locking spell will cost alittle bit extra." “The Founder’s Crest, The Ambrosius Crest, The Black Crest, The Riddle Crest, The Evans’ Crest and the Potter Crest.” Harry said with a definite tone. “Can you claim to be the heirs to those families?” Harry took off his two transfigured rings, and undid the spell. The first set showed the proprietor the rings of the Founders’ and Merlin. The second set showed him the lines for the Black, Riddle, Evans, and Potter families.” Harry transfigured them back and said rather icily, “Am I believable now?” “It will be done, Mister Potter.” Harry looked at him coldly and stated, “A fair word of advice. I no longer go by the name of Harry Potter. My name now is Harry Marcellus Riddle; it would be wise to use discretion when talking about me, as no one except two traitors know who I really am.” “Alright, I will. You have my word.” “Thank you." "How will you key the locking spell to me?" "If you can give a little of your blood to me, it would be most effective and efficient." Harry did as asked. “When will it be ready?” Harry asked. “If you stay in the alley, then about two and half hours.” “I will be back then.” “I never got your name?” “I’m sorry. I’m Mr. Smith. I believe you may know my son Zacharias from Hogwarts?” “Yes, Hufflepuff and good at Quidditch.” “That would be him, yes.” “Well, Mr. Smith, I will see you in about two hours. Goodbye.” “Until then.” He responded. Harry thankfully made his way towards Flourish and Blotts. It was about 9:30 am, so he had until 12:00 noon to pick it up. Once he entered, he smelled a slightly pleasurable aroma of Vanilla and Pine. He made his way to the top level. There stood a very appealing and very regal looking Draco Malfoy. Harry had to force his eyes to not dilate. “Draco,” he called softly. Draco’s head snapped towards him. “Potter.” He spit at him Harry flinched and moved slightly closer towards him. Harry looked him in the face and asked him. “Do you want to know the real reason behind my refusal for your hand in friendship, Draco? Because honestly there is a good reason.” Harry moved his eyes to the side. Draco’s curiosity got the better of him. He sat down somewhat gracefully in a winged-back chair and gestured for Harry to sit also.” “Draco, the first thing you must know, is that I no longer go by ‘Potter’. My birthday started midnight today. I changed my name on the approval of my grandfather with my coming of age. “My new name is Harry Marcellus Riddle, and I am the Heir to the Four Founder’s and Merlin, as well as the Black, Evans, Riddle and Potter Lines.” Draco stared at him in confusion. “That still doesn’t explain to me why you denied me.” He said quietly. Harry thought about how he should word his next set of sentences. “Draco, you know my scar right, the infamous lightning bolt?” “Yes.” He responded. “Dumbledore has lied to everyone about it.” “Apparently, it was put there to create a telepathic link to my grandfather. My grandfather is Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known today as Lord Voldemort. Voldemort never killed my parents—Dumbledore had them murdered when they didn’t share his views with Voldemort. After the death of my parents, Dumbledore took control of my link, so I couldn’t contact my grandfather. He blocked almost all of my natural gifts. He obliviated me to the point where he could create a false memory of my parents telling me I was half, and we both know what a serious crime that is, don’t we?” Draco stared in disbelief and total shock. He couldn’t believe how much Harry had been manipulated. “So you didn’t remember all those times we played and slept in your nursery together?” He asked, saddened. “Not until very early this morning.” He responded solemnly and looked at his feet. “Is this the end of his manipulations?” “No, but I have an enormous amount of shopping to do, maybe you could help?” “With what?” “Clothes shopping.” Draco eyes lit up like a fire and he looked as if Christmas was now an everyday holiday.” “Of course I’ll help; I’ve wanted to give you a makeover for awhile.” Harry groaned at this. “Draco, do you have any other business here?” “No.” “Then head to Madame Malkin’s to decide what colors would look best on me.” “Alright then. I will.” Draco started to walk away, when he heard, “But Draco?” He turned around. “The Slytherin line has half-dragon blood in them if they are powerful enough to carry it. Apparently, I am able to carry it. When I walked into this store today, my now keen sense of smell caught your scent, and when I actually saw you, it recognized you as my mate. I am, undoubtedly, the dominant in this pairing, due to power levels. “Just know that now that I know the truth, I would never hurt you in any way. I care too much. Perhaps I am too soft?” Draco was totally speechless for once, but he saw the silent battle within Harry. He walked over to him and said softly, “You may be caring, but you are more than that. You are a leader, and not many people in our world can claim to be that. Not even my father.” Draco lightly grazed his lips with Harry’s before heading to Madame Malkin’s. ‘Bloody tease’ he thought to himself. Harry quickly rounded up his self-memorized list of books. In total, there were at least 150 books, but he had cash to burn, so he didn’t really care. Topics ranged from Occlumency and Legilimency to Wandless and Wordless Magic. There were books on Elemental Magic and Healing. There were books written in foreign languages, which he found that he had no problem reading at all. There were several books he found hidden in the back written in Parseltongue, which he thought, was a priceless find. Due to the Magicus Aspectus gift, he found several other rare books that were hidden in the store. There were quite a few people in the store looking at him strangely, as if to say, “What does he need all of those for?” He just glared at them coldly. After paying, he left saying he may not be back, if customer’s don’t learn some common courtesy. Harry walked down the street towards the clothes store. For some odd reason, he practically felt uncontained glee and happiness from his mate, and he wasn’t even in the store yet. It was now 10:15 am. When he arrived, he found out why. Lord Lucius Malfoy was there, waiting for him, as well as Draco. He stepped up to them, “Lord Malfoy,” he inclined his head, “Draco,” he said softly. Lucius looked on in astonishment at how much Harry had changed. He hadn’t believed Draco when he had said even his mannerisms had changed. “Is there a reason you’re here, Lord Malfoy?” “Is it true? That you no longer go by the name of Potter, and that you are in fact, the heir to my master’s regime?” he asked quietly. Harry threw up a very strong Silencing Spell around them. “Yes, I no longer respond to ‘Potter.’ My new name is Harry Marcellus Riddle. I am still the heir to the Potter Line, as well as, the Riddle, Black, and Evans Lines. In addition to the Ambrosius line, as well as, the lines of the Founder’s. Yes, it is true.” Lucius looked startled for a moment, then asked “Is it true you are half-dragon, like Slytherin legend proclaims?” Harry sighed in irritation. “Yes, Lord Malfoy. I no longer need glasses because of this. I have a very keen sense of smell and hearing. Within the next few weeks, I will need to get to where my grandfather is, because my magic will start to grow and mature at a rapid pace and it will be painful. It may also change slight things in my appearance. My wings will also form and show themselves, however, they will be retractable, so I will be able to hide them. I may not look half- dragon now, but I will at the end of the second week of August if you care to stick around." Lucius seemed quiet for a moment, then questioned again “You told Draco he was your mate, is it really true?” Harry sighed again, “Lucius, do you remember when you and Narcissa came to my parents’ house for tea sometimes?” “Yes.” He remembered “Well, every time it was naptime for both of us, Draco would instinctively curl around me, as if in fierce protection and possessiveness.” Lucius pondered this revelation. Narcissa had never mentioned it before. “Is he the dominate in your relationship?” “No, I am. However, for most things, we are equal.” Lucius seemed to think things over before he smiled truly for the first time in ages. “Welcome to the family, Harry.” Harry smiled genuinely. Harry took down the Silencing Spell. “Now I believe Draco is assisting you with your wardrobe. I have some advice, however. Please don’t let Draco take advantage of the fact that you have a lot of money. He’s an insane shopaholic, and he gets it from his mother I assure you!” “Thank you, but I don’t mind. I probably have enough money to last me another six to eight lifetimes. Money is no problem for me at all.” “Did your families’ goblin say your rank in monetary assets?” Harry smirked, “Yeah, he did, why?” “Just out of curiosity.” Lucius responded “Second richest family in Wizarding Britain,” He stated. Lucius looked faint for a moment. The Malfoy's were only ranked as the fifth wealthiest family in Britain. The teenaged girls in the corner who had been watching him, including Ginny Weasley, looked at him with longing and what could’ve been desire and they giggled. Draco, who had just come back and saw the looks they were giving him, rebuked them by saying, “Well,” and he pointed to the girls in the corner, “They certainly cannot have you, I’m your mate, and you know what, your mine and I don’t share.” “Fine, by me Draco, as I don’t particularly like the female attributes anyway. Cho was too much with her sobbing stories all the time.” Draco and Lucius laughed outright. Lucius himself was only bisexual. He had been forced to marry Narcissa at the time, even though he loved her now. Harry looked at Draco lovingly and said softly, “Well, mon amor, aren’t you going to help me find clothes that are suitable to my status now?” Draco grinned wickedly, grabbed his wrist, and started to drag him away. Harry looked at Lucius with a look that said ‘I’m doomed.’ He laughed and went to go wait on them. After another agonizing hour and a half, Draco was finally finished making Harry, what he called, ‘a masterpiece.’ Actually, Harry had to admit that Draco truly was a genius with clothes. For he had spent an hour trying on many types of robes for each kind of situation: Business, Casual, Formal, and Everyday work. Draco had him buying certain kinds of shoes for each one. All of the robes were dark shades of blue, red, green, purple, and black. There were various shades brown, grey, and jewel tones. Then he moved onto Muggle clothes… And somewhere along the way Harry started thinking, ‘When it comes to Draco and his clothes obsession, how do I say no?’ By the end of it, Harry had the absolute best Wizarding and Muggle wardrobe any wizard or witch could want or ask for. Harry was exhausted and Draco could tell. When they came out of the store it was 11:45 am. “Harry, where’s your trunk so we can get rid of all your rags and replace them with all your good ones. Harry looked at his new watch and stood up abruptly and swore. “Draco, I’m having a new trunk made because my other one was getting old and decrepit. If we don’t get to the Wizard Wares store in about oh 15 minutes, we’ll have to wait after their lunch break and I had planned to be gone by lunch time.” “Harry?” Draco quietly said. “Yes?” “How fluent are you with wandless magic?” “I can do anything, barring the unforgivables, why?” Draco smirked, “Shrink them wandlessly to be pocket size and meet me in the back alley. Harry did as he was told, and went to meet Draco. As Draco was waiting patiently, Harry stepped up to him. “Put your arm in mine and hold on!” Draco snapped his fingers and he disapparated themselves outside said store. When they landed Draco could hear hissing, and wondered what it was about. “Draco, meet Ramses. Ramses, meet Draco. Draco, Ramses is one of my blood bonded familiars.” “Now you can do side-along apparition?” he hissed “I got my license on June the 5th. That’s my birthday.” Harry seemed to change demeanors fairly quickly. “Happy birthday, mon amor.” Harry said happily. “Let’s go see this trunk you’ve managed to construct, my vipera.” Draco was impressed by the construction of the trunk. The Bloodwood with the black platinum fittings was gorgeous, but the intricately drawn family crests for each of Harry’s bloodlines were what really set it off. After they transferred all of the new clothes and books to his new trunk, he started transferring other items from his old trunk into the new one.” When he got to the Marauder’s Map, which was blank, Draco said “Harry, why don’t you throw that away?” “Watch and learn. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” The map of Hogwarts instantly appeared. Draco didn’t know what to say, “So,” he asked, “What is it, who made it, and how’d you get it?” “It’s the Marauder’s Map, made by my father, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, as they are the original marauders. Fred and George Weasley, either thankfully or stupidly now, gave it to me when I couldn’t go to Hogsmeade in 3rd year. “Ah.” After Harry put away the rest of his treasured items and disposed of his old trunk, he turned to Draco and said “Draco I want you to meet my other blood bonded familiar.” He turned his head to the window and called softly: Shakina, come meet my mate: In a flash of silver flames, Shakina landed on his shoulder. “You have a dark phoenix?” he asked in disbelief. “Yes.” “Where is your father, Draco?” “He is waiting to speak with you at a reserved room at the Leaky Cauldron.” “Let’s go then.” “Just one moment if you please, young master Riddle, I have some things one of your ancestors left to one of mine.” “Alright.” The man went into the back of the shop. They waited a good 10 minutes or so before he came back. In his hands was a black marble basin, carved with what looked like silver, dark elfish runes for protection. “Salazar left this to my great, great, great, great grandfather with specific instructions.” “He said to give it to the heir of his great, great, great grandson.” “This is a pensieve, but a powerful one at that. It is warded, so no one can break into it. If someone tries, depending on who it is, and what they were looking for, the consequences will vary.” “Better warn Professor Snape not to go looking for revenge.” Draco said. “It is also keyed specifically to you.” “How?” “Ollivander gave me a small piece of your new wand to update it with earlier.” “Ah, interesting.” “Well, unless you have anymore of the Founder’s items, then we must be on our way.” “I believe I do, hold on.” He went back into the back again for another 25 minutes, gathering everything that belonged to the Founder’s. While he was in the back gathering the belongings, Harry opened the trunk and shrunk the pensieve and putting it under glamour, placed it in the trunk. When the shopkeeper came back, he laid several boxes on the countertop. The first one he unveiled was two sets of daggers made of the purest silver and had emeralds embedded into the handles. One set was six inches, the other nine inches. Harry was entranced. “Be careful wielding those blades. Salazar coated them with his basilisk’s poison. Deadly.” He uncovered Hufflepuff’s quarterstaff, Rowena’s bow and arrow, and Godric’s short sword. Dumbledore still had the long one. The shopkeeper had said Rowena had a katana, but his grandfather had claimed it years earlier. There were several boxes of books. The ones on Potions, Draco couldn’t read, but Harry pointed out they were in Parseltongue and he could. Draco’s eyes widened. “Don’t let Severus know that, or he’ll have you translating all of these books.” There were also boxes of books on Charms, Defense, Transfiguration, Herbology, Healing, Occlumency, Legilimency, the Dark Arts, History, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and other various assorted topics. “Mister Riddle, do you have Godric’s Beast Speech perchance?” “Yes, why?” He was busy putting all these other books away. “There were several other books in Elfish, Dwarven, Mermish, Veelian, Vampiric, Incubic, and your half-dragon, but I did not know whether or not to give them to you.” “While we put these away, go collect the books please.” He went into the back again. For at least another 10 minutes. “I swear I’m going to have to ward my bookshelf from prying eyes.” Draco snickered. “That’s it. You’re not getting in my bed for awhile.” Draco whimpered and pleaded for it to not be so. Harry just glared at him. The man came back carrying a small stack of books. Harry took them and put them away. “How much do I owe you?” “For your trunk, 250 galleons even, as for your heirlooms, nothing. We were just keeping them.” Harry handed him his card and said a curt ‘thank you’. Harry cast a feather light charm on his trunk and shrank it, placing it in his pocket. He motioned for Draco to follow him. They had spent at least an hour and forty-five minute collecting priceless artifacts and putting them away, Once out of the door, Draco said, “Harry, I didn’t mean to make you angry at me. It was all done in gesture.” Harry sighed. He knew this. “Draco, if I’m not famous for being the Boy-Who-Lived, then I’m lauded for being the heir of the Founder’s. Draco, I, I only wanted to be normal.” He said quietly It was 1:45 pm. They at least another hour to collect everything. They made their way to the apothecary to collect ingredients for potions. After that they headed for an apothecary in Knockturn for the more volatile ingredients. Then they headed for a bookshop in Knockturn. He needed books on Dark Magic, Blood Magic, and Shadow Magic. Harry knew he would barely find anything on Parsel Magic, but managed to surprised himself, with his Magicus Aspectus, and found twenty rare book on Parsel Magic and five on each of the other subjects. After they paid, they headed for the Leaky Cauldron. They reached the Leaky Cauldron in silence. They found Lucius in the back, sipping some brandy, and reading the evening Prophet. He saw them and gestured for them to come in and sit. They ordered two butterbeers and some dinner, as it was now 3:00 pm. “Your Grandfather currently resides in Slytherin Manor. He has asked me to ask you if you would like to stay there.” Harry thought about it. “I would like to see my Grandfather,” Harry said, remembering his promise to his mother. “You will have to Floo to your room in Slytherin Manor. The password is ‘sanguis’.” Before they could leave, Harry asked, “Could Draco come with me to help unpack?” Lucius looked at him sharply before deciding, “Alright.” Draco looked at him astonished. He thought Harry was still angry with him. “Be warned, Professor Snape may be waiting for you to explain.” “Thank you.” Lucius left. Harry turned to look at Draco. “Draco, I’m not mad at you anymore, but I did only invite you to unpack and if it’s late when we finish, to set you up with a guest quarters. “We have much to atone for with each other. And I still have to explain the rest of Dumbledore’s manipulations. “I would feel uncomfortable, if we jumped into bed, no questions asked, and we did not know a little of each other first.” Harry finished Draco nodded, but then purred “But remember Harry, you’re mine.” “I am yours, just as you are mine.” Harry recited happily. “Well, let me Floo to my rooms at Slytherin Manor first—I’ll probably have to admit you.” Harry turned to the fireplace and stated clearly, “Sanguis, Slytherin Manor.” Draco followed directly behind him. A/N: Here is chapter two, I hope you like it. I just wanted to let you know that after this is posted, you probably won’t get an update till after the fourth of July. Also, I do not know if there is such a thing as black platinum, so if there is, I’m borrowing it, and if there isn’t, then I guess I just created it on a whim. Mon amor – is French for my love Sanguis – is Latin for Blood Vipera – is Latin for snake or preferably viper Purus Natura – basically is Latin for Pure Blood FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination Home Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Just In All New Stories New Chapters Communities General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Forums General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Dictionary Search Login Sign Up Extras AdBlocker Support/Help Privacy TOS Books » Harry Potter » Black Shadows font: B s : A A A Author: DarkSiren929 1. Inheritance and Truth2. Gringotts, Shopping and Draco3. Slytherin Manor and Settling In4. Discussions Fiction Rated: M - English - Romance/Drama - Harry P. & Draco M. - Reviews: 58 - Published: 06-25-07 - Updated: 10-18-07 id:3617176 Black Shadows Authored by: LadyoftheShadows1986 (or DarkSiren929) Beta’ed by: ddamato Chapter 3: Slytherin Manor and Settling In As soon as Harry fell from the Floo, he heard a distinct snort of laughter. “Someone needs to teach you the proper way to Floo,” came the sarcastic remark from his Uncle. “Well Uncle Severus, would you be the one teaching me, since no one else would or has?” Harry retorted. “Maybe I will, you never know.” Just then, the fireplace flared again, and Draco exited gracefully. ‘Showoff,’ Harry thought. “Well Uncle, Draco is here to help me unpack. If you stick around for another hour or so, I can hear your apology firsthand.” “I’ll be back in a couple of hours then, since it is only 3:00 pm.” “Goodbye, Uncle Severus.” Harry turned to Draco with a smile. “Ready to explore with me?” he asked. “Absolutely,” Draco responded. Harry turned to the fireplace and put the set of Slytherin daggers, Hufflepuff’s quarterstaff, and Gryffindor’s short sword on display in the brackets above. He thought to himself that he would have to check the artifacts vault to see if the long sword he had used in the Chamber was there. He vaguely wondered what happened to the Sorting Hat. It had been Godric’s after all. Draco stepped up behind and said “Beautiful.” “Me or the display?” “Both.” Harry smiled genuinely. Harry turned to take in the room. The walls were a light beige color, done in dark blue and green accents. Wooden furniture looked to be made of cherry. There were a grand total of seven rooms to the suite. A living/kitchenette/dining area, a bedroom and a bathroom, a training room, a very large personal study, a good size walk-in closet, not to mention a potions lab, which could also be used as a Ritual room. It seemed to Harry, that his grandfather had almost assumed Draco was his mate. Harry and Draco headed for the study to put away all the books they had collected. Harry purposely put the Parseltongue books, as well as other foreign language books at the top of the shelves in their indicated subject, making it harder for his uncle to find them. Draco thought it was a good idea. Harry did an estimate on how many books he could hold, and he had a lot more collecting to do. He wondered if the founders had left him any books in the artifact vault. After that, they moved to the bedroom, bathroom, and closet. Draco immediately headed for the closet to organize Harry’s clothes. Harry sighed: Draco’s obsession with clothes was going to be the death of him. Harry started to put away his more valuable items in his bed and bath. Harry found a cabinet similar to Dumbledore’s, yet different because of all of the wards. It was a cabinet made to hold a pensieve, and Harry was guessing only an Heir could see it, because Draco shortly came out of the closet, without even seeing him. He went to the trunk and pulled Salazar’s black marble pensieve, with the silver dark Elven runes inscribed delicately in the holder. He was even more surprised when it hissed ‘Welcome home, Heir of the Hogwarts Four.’ Harry hissed ‘Thank you,’ closed the cabinet, and set a Parseltongue password. “Purrusss Natturra.” he said. Soon all of his personal belongings were put away, and Harry went back to the study to ward the bookcases from prying eyes, and then headed to the potions lab. Harry meticulously arranged and re-arranged, and organized his ingredients in a certain order. Draco, not paying attention, wondered aloud, ‘I wonder if he has what muggles call OCD?’ Harry just glared and retorted, “I could wonder the same thing about you with clothes and personal hygiene.” “Fair enough,” Draco admitted Finally, Harry and Draco collapsed on the couch at 4:55 pm, five minutes before Uncle Severus was to arrive. “You don’t think we have time for a small snack, do you?” Draco queried. “You’re hungry? I’m still full from dinner. With the way my relatives were, I don’t eat much anyway.” Draco narrowed his eyes at the statement. “What do you mean ‘the way your relatives were?’ What did they do?” “Do you really want to know? It will make your appetite go sour.” “Of course I want to know. I am your mate, and I am supposed to protect and take care of you. When I was younger, I knew I was a submissive mate. I made myself read books about them, and found that while dominant partners are protective, sub missives are usually very protective and possessive of their dominant, whether they are male or female. I am naturally possessive, due to my Veela blood, and believe it or not, I have always cared about you, whether or not I showed it, and I wondered why we weren’t friends for a long time, but now we know.” Harry stared at him. “You really want to know?” Draco rolled his eyes, “Yes, Harry. I would like to know.” Harry looked at his watch. “Draco, I’m going to have to give this to you in a nutshell.” “My relatives, who are not really my relatives at all, hate magic and my very being.” My cousin was physically and verbally abusive, but nothing I couldn’t outrun him for, since he was so overweight. My aunt was more emotionally and verbally abusive. There were instances of physical abuse, but it never worked since I did not stay around her too much. My uncle, however, has one word to describe him. It is malicious. I was more afraid of him than I was of Voldemort. At least, when I was,” Harry finished quietly Draco was enraged, but asked the question he needed an answer for. “Harry,” he said softly, “Did he ever hurt you sexually?” When Harry didn’t respond, Draco had his answer. Draco was angry, or at least until he heard Harry’s question. “Do you still want me?” he asked cautiously. If he rejected him, he may as well have said he could die. “What kind of stupid question is that, I ask?” “A valid one?” “Valid my ass, Harry. I would rather die than give you to someone who will treat you with disrespect and not really see you for who you are on the inside.” Harry smiled as tears tried to shine through – keyword: tried. At that moment, a knock on the door of his chambers sounded. Harry quickly collected himself, and raised his indifference mask. Draco was amazed at how quickly his demeanors changed, and was able to put up his mask. “Come in Uncle Severus.” Severus proceeded to enter the room, but was closely followed by his grandfather. His grandfather, it seemed, had gone back to his original looks, although older. He looked to be in his early fifties. “Grandfather, what a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you until later,” Harry said happily. “Yes, well I have my own set of questions. So I came with Severus.” “Have a seat then, and I will gather tea.” Draco sat back on the couch, while Severus and Tom sat in the armchairs across from him. Harry came back with a tea tray in hand, along with biscuits. Harry tried to sit back on the couch, but Draco had other ideas. He immediately pulled Harry, much to his protestation, into his lap. Tom smiled at this, thinking they would be a good match, and would provide strong heirs, if he lived to see it. Severus was confused, but did not say anything yet. “Before we start our meeting, Uncle Severus, I just wanted you to know that I have always respected you and your work, no matter how you might’ve treated me. It kept me grounded, knowing that you ‘thought’ I was nothing special.” Severus smiled sadly; Harry was shocked to see him smile at all. “Harry, you are special in so many ways, but I could not afford treating you differently, because of being a spy, and not Dumbledore’s either.” “I knew this. I also knew something was wrong in sixth year, when Dumbledore handed my ‘training’ from you, to his three famed Auror’s.” Tom pointed a glare in Severus’ direction, and Severus cringed. “I take it Grandfather didn’t know about this. Shame on you uncle – it’s been, what – almost two months since school’s let out.” “Severus, I want to ask you on behalf of the founder’s. They deemed that if the Headmaster doesn’t resort me within the first week of school, he would not be anymore. They want to know who would take charge if he is gone, what the other professor’s think, and will the Headmaster do it.” Severus seemed to think about the question. “McGonagall would take over, but it would make me Deputy Headmaster, as Flitwick and Sprout never wanted the job, and are also getting on in years. The teachers’ are distraught over the situation. They all know what happened with the Sorting Hat, and believe that that is where you will be placed, should it occur. The headmaster, at this point, is happy to be in denial – at least until the first day of school. If, perhaps, you sent him a missive that was untraceable, signed with your ‘new’ name, it would bring him out of the state he is in. I cannot guarantee he will do as they say.” Harry sent the information to Rowena through the Founder’s link and found they were outraged, and already devising a plan to get Harry resorted before the new school year begun. Harry pondered the teachers’ reactions to the resort. He also pondered the other revelation. If Dumbledore were tossed, McGonagall would become a formidable Headmistress, and Snape an even more formidable Deputy. “I have access to all the ward’s hidden rooms, and passageways, and any normal room, including the headmaster/headmistress office and living area, due to the blood of the Founder’s. Severus, do you enjoy teaching even a little?” he asked. “Not really, why?” he asked in suspicion. “If I were to go back to Hogwarts, I would be in a perfect position to spy on just about everyone, due to the access I have.” Comprehension dawned on everyone’s features. “Do you have to work for money?” “No, I have plenty from all the potions I have created for the Ministry and others.” “Who would Dumbledore put in your place, if you were to resign?” “I can only think of two, and both are unlikely. Tom’s own head of house Horace Slughorn, or a Vampiric potions mistress named Athena Lansing.” Tom winced in sympathy, “If he places Slughorn at Hogwarts, send me a missive – I was one of his favorites. “Will do. Severus, are you going to resign?” “Yes, but I can’t see him putting Horace in, just because he is almost as old as Dumbledore is.” “Are you calling me old, Severus?” “No, you were a teen when he was there. He was already in his thirties or forties, I believe, so he is old.” “Just as long as weren’t calling me old.” Harry cleared his throat. “Back to Hogwarts, If Dumbles is thrown, and McGonagall takes over, it would be an opportune time for an attack, since Severus will be gone, and won’t threaten his position as Deputy. Severus, I am just assuming this, but would I be correct in saying that you have access to the wards?” “You assume, but you assume correctly.” Tom smirked at the look on Draco’s face, and sat back to watch what would happen. “H-Harry,” Draco started cautiously, not wanting to anger him. “Where in the world did you obtain Slytherin logic?” Severus wanted to know as well. Harry forced Draco to let him go, so he could stand, and smirked. Draco looked at Harry and then Tom. “Your smirks are exactly the same – scary.” “Draco,” he purred, “I’ve always had Slytherin logic – it was just very well hidden.” “I’ll say.” Draco shivered, eyes glazed over with lust. Tom looked over at Severus and asked, “Anything you wish to address, before you leave, so you can get your resignation papers done, plus pack your belongings and move in here?” “Several.” Severus looked at Harry intently. “Harry, you should be aware that the Headmaster believes you to be Dark as Dark can get. He was informed through Ron, Hermione, and Ginny of your new name, and how cold and cruel were to them. He is also assuming that your grandfather is going to teach you the Dark Arts, when the last part of your inheritance finishes. Is he right – were you going to teach him?” Tom smirked and replied, “Yes, but I was only going to go through the beginning and intermediate arts. I was going to wait for him to graduate before I taught him expert arts, foreign human arts, Parsel magic, Shadow magic, ancient arts, and others.” Severus nodded. Harry asked, “Others?” Tom turned to him, and said, “There is no magic that I do not at least know some of. I meant Raw magic, Elemental magic, Magic of creatures that we do not see in our society today, such as the Elves, and Dwarves, The Fae, The Incubi, and the Demons. The Ritual Arts in itself take awhile to learn.” Severus looked like he wanted to join the training, just so he could obtain the knowledge about the Ancient realms. Harry nodded, and then turned to Severus again. “You said Ron, Hermione, and Ginny too?” “Yes.” He confirmed. Harry hummed in disgust. They would have to be taken care of sooner or later. “What of my so-called relatives?” Tom looked at Harry softly, “Whatever you want to do with them.” Harry seemed to think, but cringed at what he was about to say. “Grandfather, the only way any Death Eater’s will be able to break through the wards, is if you give them a phial of your blood to apply to the wards.” “What do you plan to do to them?” “Leave them in the dungeons until they die of starvation,” Harry spat. “Fitting,” Draco commented. “Why?” Severus and Tom asked at once. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready.” He evaded. “What of Fudge and Umbridge?” Severus answered, “Fudge is taking some serious heat right now, since the public is now fully aware that your Grandfather has returned. It would be a good opportunity to have him humiliated, sacked, and killed by your grandfather, while we strategize a plan to have someone of own placed in the next election for minister. Before you ask, Lucius won’t run, because almost everyone knows his family has dark ties. As for Umbridge, she retired last year, and is at home.” “Where does she live? I need to pay her a little visit,” he said with a malignant gleam in his eyes. “She lives in a small home, outside of London. I am not sure of the address, but I can set Dolohov to tracking it, since he’s good at stealth.” “Alright then, do it,” Harry ordered. “Lastly, did my potion work?” “Splendidly, thank you.” Tom and Draco looked confused and curious. “Am I allowed to tell them, now that they heard?” Harry asked. Severus sighed, “Go ahead, brat.” Harry glared, but turned to them and stated, “You all remember that Dolores Umbridge was our fifth year Defense professor, and for a time, our Headmistress?” They nodded. Harry turned to his mate; “You remember she had me in detention almost every other week for proclaiming the return of the Dark Lord?” Again Draco nodded his head. Harry smirked, “Well, her idea of detention is truly evil. She made me write ‘I must not tell lies’ on parchment with a Blood Quill.” Tom and Draco were angry. “What does the potion have to do with this?” Tom asked. “After all her detentions were over with, I had a long-term Blood Quill scar. My Gringotts manager had asked Severus prior to my seventeenth birthday to find a solution to this and he did. On my birthday, after I finished signing documents, I took the rest of a normal healing draught, but he handed me another potion and it cleared up the ‘I must not tell lies’,” He finished. Comprehension dawned on their faces, and Draco looked somewhat relieved. Tom, while still angry at Umbridge, was happy that Severus had found a solution. “Uncle Severus, I have a question and something that might interest you.” “Question first.” “What did you leave in the Evans’ Vault at Gringotts?” “A lot of your mother’s school belongings, such as her wand, and a Slytherin artifact, you’ll be happy to hear I saved from Dumbledore.” “Which one,” Tom queried? “The locket you gave Serena to pass on to Lily. I left it on your desk.” “Severus, thank you for finding it; you have my eternal gratitude.” Severus turned back to Harry and smirked, “Plus, the whole Ravenclaw library is, or was in the Evans vault, but I believe you had the artifacts and money split into two vaults?” Harry’s eyes lit up like fireworks at the mention of the Founder’s libraries. Draco, who saw the look, groaned. “Not more books!” Harry glared and retorted, “If you like to study, but were afraid to do so because of your relatives, you would like to take advantage of this opportunity.” “Want to hear your interest now, Uncle?” “Why not,” he sighed. “I managed to get to Knockturn Alley today, and happened upon some rare Parseltongue Potions, and Parsel magic books. If you ‘play nice’, maybe I’ll consider translating them for you.” Severus’s eyes sparked at the prospect. “What do you want in return?” Harry looked at him softly and said, “When we are here or at our other estates, treat me as family, even around the other Death Eater’s. At Hogwarts or out in public, treat me as any other person, but fairly this time.” Severus smiled, “I can do that.” Severus left and Harry turned to his grandfather, “You had your own questions?” Tom looked thoughtful and replied, “Yes, I want to know the extent of Dumbledore’s manipulations?” Harry sighed, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Well, let’s put it this way. I came to Hogwarts a very battered and already broken eleven-year-old boy. I thought I was a half-blood. I was never allowed to ask questions, concerning my family, my history, or me. I had no memories left of my family, other than you ‘supposedly’ killed them. I knew nothing of my heritage, other than the suspicion that the Dursley’s weren’t really my relatives at all.” Tom was angry and his eyes glowed the color of blood. Draco narrowed his eyes; Harry was hiding things. “Harry, what are you hiding from us?” Harry turned his back from them, and then said in a very icy tone, “Nothing that can’t be fixed or compensated for.” “Liar,” his grandfather intoned. Harry sighed. Maybe it would be good to tell them, and cure some of his demons. “They also beat, starved, and neglected me. They usually called me ‘freak’ or ‘boy’ most of the time. Dursley senior took it upon himself to make sure no one in the neighborhood wanted me or would call them into the police station, by providing me with the barest of essentials and/or affection.” Harry dropped his voice several tones and continued, “He also made sure that I was ‘deflowered’ early on, so I would never have a chance to give anyone that moment, but I suppose that’s part of the reason why I’m the dominant in the pair I’m in.” He all but whispered. Harry fell silent and waited for his mate’s rejection of him, and his grandfather’s reaction. Tom’s eyes had gone pitch black now. No pupil was showing. Draco was also angry, but not at Harry, like Harry thought. No, Draco was thinking of the most painful way to torture and kill Harry’s relatives. Harry whimpered at the thought of rejection, equally showing his mate his own submissive side. Draco snapped back to attention, and embraced Harry, whispering small words of comfort and promising to stay by his side. Harry looked at him blankly and asked him in monotone, “You still want me, even though I’m broken and used?” Draco scowled, “Harry, you know as well as I do that if I had rejected you, both of us would’ve been dead within the hour. You are a beautiful, caring, and intelligent person. I feel that I am not really worthy of you, but I am grateful for this chance at happiness. “Plus, I am very possessive and protective of what is mine. I would fight for you, even if it meant forfeiting my life for yours. I have always admired you in past, but I have come to love who you are now. There will be no getting rid of me. Not now, not ever,” he stated firmly Tom’s eyes had returned to normal by now; He looked almost human. He softly whispered, “You two remind me of Serena and me. She gave her life trying to protect Lily from Dumbledore. It was a fruitless attempt however. He left silently, while he contemplated how to handle the Dursley’s. Harry and Draco changed into pajamas, and crawled in Harry’s bed. Harry ignored the urge to mate. They fell asleep, just content to have the other. FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination Home Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Just In All New Stories New Chapters Communities General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Forums General Anime/Manga Book Cartoon Comic Game Misc Movie TV Show Dictionary Search Login Sign Up Extras AdBlocker Support/Help Privacy TOS Books » Harry Potter » Black Shadows font: B s : A A A Author: DarkSiren929 1. Inheritance and Truth2. Gringotts, Shopping and Draco3. Slytherin Manor and Settling In4. Discussions Fiction Rated: M - English - Romance/Drama - Harry P. & Draco M. - Reviews: 58 - Published: 06-25-07 - Updated: 10-18-07 id:3617176 Black Shadows By: DarkSiren929 (FFN or AFF) Beta’ed by: ddamato Previously in BS: Harry and Draco changed into pajamas and crawled in Harry’s bed. Harry ignored the urge to mate. They soon fell asleep, content to just have the other with them. Chapter 4: Discussions Harry and Draco woke feeling better than they had in a long time. They showered, dressed, and proceeded to the dining hall. Once they arrived, everyone within the hall had become quiet, although Tom was smiling. “Everyone, as you can see, my grandson has returned to us. Be polite.” Some of them smiled and welcomed him warmly, while others glowered at him. They had hoped he would stay away, so that their son or daughter would have a chance to shine. “He is here to stay, so respect him as you do me.” “If you don’t, the price is entirely on your head.” Everyone nodded and bowed to the young master, respectfully he bowed back in recognition. Harry seated himself by his grandfather with Draco beside him. Everyone glance at him curiously, wanting to know why he deserved the right to sit next to the young master. Draco just glared at everyone for being nosy. “Grandfather…?” Draco turned his attention back to his mate. “Yes, Harry?” Tom turned to him. “I need someone who is able to wield weaponry, to show me how. I have extensive knowledge of how it looks and is done, but I think my technique, accuracy, and precision will be off, since I have never actually used any weapons before.” Tom looked thoughtful at this. “There is only one person who I would trust with this, and he is unfortunately, very hard to contact.” “Who…?” Harry asked “Dmitri.” He said flatly. “Who is he?” he asked. “The Russian wizard; who trained me in weaponry.” Draco decided to put his input here. “I believe my father may be able to track him down, as he knows him as well.” “Excellent.” Tom looked down the table, searching for Lucius. “Lucius…?” Tom called. “My Lord?” he spoke silkily. “You will track Master Swordsman Dmitri at post haste, after breakfast, understood?” Lucius looked semi-surprised, but nodded nonetheless. “Grandfather, I also need to train my new powers. I have all this knowledge on spells, curses, jinxes, hexes and other types of magic, but I don’t really know how to use them. Tom nodded, “Yes, but I believe Draco and myself would be willing to test them.” Draco nodded eagerly, wanting to see just how powerful his mate really is. “Grandfather…?” “Yes?” he asked “What exactly is raw magic?” “Its magic where you make something happen by willing it to happen or the amount of raw magical energy a person has or can take advantage of.” “Like accidental magic?” “Sort-of, yes.” He answered. Over the course of breakfast, Tom laid out the plans for luring the Order members out of their hidey-hole. The methods they proposed were amusing by far, but could also be detrimental to their own comrades. Harry seems to find a solution first. He cleared his throat and took the stand. “Instead of putting one of our own on the line, why don’t we feed them false information, which will effectively lead them to us?” Tom seemed impressed, the other’s besides Lucius who was smirking, just seemed to dawn in comprehension. “What do you have in mind, Harry?” Tom asked his heir. With a sly grin, he stated “I was going to say that you have me held captive at Riddle Manor, and my set execution date is tomorrow at sunset.” “Ah! So, it is both true and untrue, but enough to spread rumor with.” “Exactly!” he said loudly. Tom was impressed, but then again, Harry was his heir. He had no reason to be surprised by his knowledge. “So, do I send Severus with the information and then plan the ambush, or do you want it spread by rumors?” “Send Severus.” He responded. “Alright then…” he stated. After the meeting was adjourned, Tom led them to Slytherin Manor’s dueling hall. Once inside, he led Harry to the platform. “Harry, I’m gonna see what you can and can not do. Let’s start with Elemental magic.” Harry nodded. “Create a ball of purifying light in one palm and a ball of shadowing light in the other.” Harry did this no problem, but the tasks kept getting harder. “Create a huge pile of leaves and a howling wind.” “Create a pond on the floor, freeze it over then melt it with flames.” Harry did as he was told, struggling with controlling the flames on the last one. Tom, while watching Harry, wondered how big his magical reserves were and how much power he contained in his body. Draco stood; watching in awe, as his mate powerfully executed his tasks. Harry was a sight to behold and he knew now that he was grateful to have him as his. Tom decided he was going to put his theory to the test. This test would allow him to see how powerful Harry really was, and just how big his reserves are. “Ok Harry, I want you to draw out your aura and show us the color, alright?” “Sure.” He said Even though Harry sounded confident before, he was unsure he knew what to do. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and travel along the strands of magic. He saw the Hogwarts colors, red, green, blue, and yellow. He also saw purple, black, silver and a very thin strand of white. He followed it the core. The core was a big, black ball of uncontained energy. He willed the aura to show itself, hoping it worked. Outside in the dueling hall, Tom Riddle and Draco Malfoy were being blinded by mass of midnight black light. “Harry, you can stop now!” Draco shouted His shouting fell on deaf ears. Tom realized what was going on. “Oh no, God no!” he faltered. “What!” Draco yelled at him. “We have to get him to his rooms without using any magic on him, and then you will have to undress him and make him comfortable, let’s move it.” “Why? What’s happening?” Tom looked about to explode. “His dragon features have decided to show up three weeks early! Move it!” Draco snapped into gear. He picked Harry up gently, bridal style, and moved rapidly towards his room. Once there, Draco carefully undressed him, taking time to notice all of Harry’s attributes. After that he set Harry down gently on the bed, and then proceeded to sit and guard his mate while watching the changes take place. The first change they noticed was Harry’s eyes. While they were still green, they had become two shades darker and had small purple flecks in them. That and they also turned slit-like, like a serpents. Next were his teeth, which were now infinitely sharper and his front teeth, venomous. Then his skin became stronger, like a dragon’s, harder to break. Unknown to Harry, he was only lying in his thin cotton boxers with Draco beside him, becoming increasingly more aroused watching the changes in his mate. Draco desperately needed relief right now. “Oh God!” Tom Riddle exclaimed. “What!” Draco snapped his head towards him. “You have to remove his boxers and turn him over. He’s actually going to grow a tail. It hasn’t been seen for nearly 300 years.” “Why do I have to do it?” He gulped, feeling divided. “Because only his mate can touch him right now. If I tried to I would get severe burns on me.” Draco looked guiltily over the prone form of his mate. He did as he was told, and sat back down beside Harry. The tail itself was made of midnight black scales. After about twenty minutes of growing it was only half done, although you could now see the zigzagging green and purple lines? After another ten minutes, Draco could feel spikes being pressed into his groin, for which he moaned. Draco knew by the end of this situation, that he would fight Hell itself to keep Harry. His mate was a beautiful, intelligent, and delicate soul who needed him. There was no way he’d allow another person to have him. It was just impossible. “He’s resting now.” Tom spoke through his thoughts. The blinding black light was gone. “I’ll…uh just go clean myself up…” Tom smirked. He knew what that meant. He wasn’t stupid. Draco locked the bathroom door and threw up a silencing charm. He took off his shirt, dropped his trousers and boxers. He slid into a tub of warm water that smelt faintly of cinnamon. He smiled, Harry smelt like cinnamon. He grasped his erection in his hand and moaned. He pictured Harry kneeling at his feet. He stroked harder and faster. He imagined him taking his length into his mouth. He groaned, still stroking faster. He envisioned him sucking gently at first, but becoming more ferocious. That was all Draco needed. He came with a shout, spewing semen into the tub. Feeling better, he dressed and left the bathroom. Returning to Harry’s bedroom, he noticed one thing, Harry was awake and alone. He felt guilty for leaving him like that. “Are you alright?” he asked gently. “Sure, just not used to having a tail is all.” Draco smiled benignly. “Harry, where’d your grandfather go?” “Lucius found Dmitri already, Tom is getting re-acquainted with him.” “Alright” Draco decided now was a good time to bring this conversation up. “Harry, I know you said I was your mate, but is it really true?” Harry looked startled, but came out of shock quickly. “Why would I lie to you?” he all but whispered. “Harry, because I am a submissive veela, I am inconceivably possessive of what is mine. It would be cruel to tell me I was, when in fact, I wasn’t.” “Draco, I wasn’t lying. Why? Are you rejecting me now?” he whispered “No, Harry, I’m not, I just wanted to make sure.” Harry looked sort-of relieved. “Harry, you’re a beautiful person, inside and out, do you know that?” Color immediately stained his cheeks. “When we go back to school, every guy and every girl will line up to have a chance with you. I will become extremely possessive and very jealous of anyone who tries anything, or even looks at you the wrong way; it’s just how I am. Do you understand?” Harry nodded, smiled and said, “Draco, all I want and need is you. Since I am the Hogwarts heir, I give you full permission to hex anyone who tries anything at all. Draco nodded in agreement. Harry yawned, obviously tired even though it was only two in the afternoon. “You must be tired.” Draco said tenderly “I am.” “Lay down, I’ll be here beside you.” “Promise…?” he asked “Now and forever.” He promise. Little did they know how that one phrase would soon affect their whole life.

Btvs.It's An Adventure!
It's An Adventure by Michelle 1 It's An Adventure "You have no idea about this thing, Giles? Just its mission? No idea of its motives?" "No. None, really. Just the basics." "Basics, Watcher? And what would those be?" Giles looked at Spike and repressed a sigh. The vampire, no matter how helpful he was, was beginning to wear on his nerves. "To kill the slayer." Spike grinned. "Well, I think I like this demon! I think I like it a lot! We shouldn't be interfering with the natural order of things. Come what will. Slayers die what will." Buffy sent a glare towards the other bleached blonde in the room. "Oh. So you no longer care for the blood the slayer lets you drink, eh, Spike? You aren't happy with the whole shelter thing that saves you from turning to ash from the sun the slayer provides for you, hum? The slayer can just let you die now? Just like the slayer has wanted to for what seems like for ever? Is that right, Fangless? Let's let nature have it's way." "I'm getting' all that from the brain and the moron! I mean, from the good and kind hearted Xander, here." Spike thrust his head towards Xander. "And me turning to dust is not the natural order of things! Okay, maybe you dusting me is natural but yer lover boy and the rest? Lower animals on the food chain, sweet slayer, and what they did to me is an, well, its an abomination, it is. Not natural at all." Xander didn't look up from his magazine. "I do it 'cause Buffy asked me too, Spike. I'm more than willing to let you go to dust come next sunrise, ashes to ashes, you know. Oh! Looky here! Those god-awful platform shoes are on the way out!" Xander dropped the COSMO he had been reading onto the coffee table. "Can't be too soon for me! I'm tired of all the women being taller than me!" He looked at Giles. "So what do I have to do, G-man?" "You have to stop calling me that. And take Spike to LA and get an object from Angel that we need." "What?!" The collective shout echoed around the room. "Why can't I go? I'm-" "Are you sure we should let Spike go to LA? -" "Good plan. No need for Buffy to go to LA-" "Is this th-the right idea-" "Why the hell do I have to go?" "I am not going to the pouf for anything let alone something that will save the life of the slayer! What have you been tippin' back along with yer tea, Watcher? And why haven't you shared it? I thought we were mates, now! You've been holdin' back on the good stuff." "Spike needs to go because the object we need can only be held by the living dead. Xander, you go because you have the time to go. Buffy, you can't go because you aren't dead and well, because I wont let you go. Willow and Tara, you two are both alive and I need you two here to help me, anyway. Riley. Well, Riley, I'd send you but I think Spike would find some way to kill you despite the chip." Giles looked at the group and smiled. "I hope that's all settled. Xander? Spike? Please be careful. I'm almost sure you'll be followed. Try to, ah, loose the tail if you can. Once you reach Angel you should be fine. He's expecting you and will have taken proper precautions. We'll handle them once you're safely on your way. Oh, and please do say hello to Cordelia for me. Give her my best." Giles clapped his hands. "Well, then. We're all set. Xander and Spike, you are to take my Honda. Crash it if you find that to be necessary. I find it most tiresome to drive." He looked at the group staring blankly back at him, with varying degrees of dismay. He didn't hold back his sigh. "Well! Off with you!" "My turn!" Xander declared with glee. He turned off the radio and popped in a CD. The two had made a reasonable treaty. One hour of music each. Was it Xander's fault that Giles new Honda came with a CD player but no tape player and Spike had come loaded down with cassettes? Nope. Not his fault at all. Spike clenched his teeth, prepared to listen to an hour of the BackDoor boys or some other such nonsense. He was pleasantly surprised when Scott Strapp's deep voice came blasting out through the speakers. "Ah. I like this. Creed. Do'ya have the new one?" "Yes." Xander told him, a bit peeved at not having pissed the vampire off. He'd been sure the preachy sounds of Creed would annoy the vampire. Damn. "Really?" Spike looked pleased, grieving Xander more. "What else 'ave you got with you?" "I brought all new bands!" Xander told him. He had hoped that Spike would only want to listen to old music, and not care for anything modern. "New bands. Fine. Who?" "Um." Xander fumbled his CD wallet open, reading the names. "Third Eye Blind, Matchbox 20, Stained, some other stuff." Yes. All new one hit cd bands brought along to audibly torture his companion. Spike glanced in the rearview mirror and asked, "What other stuff?" "Oh, um, Nine Inch Nails, Bush, Limp Bizkit, stuff like that. Korn." Well, yes, he wasn't about to spend hours in a car with Spike without some enjoyable tunes. Spike switched lanes, keeping his eyes at the rearview mirror. "Bush! I like Bush! And Korn! Well who doesn't like Korn? Play that next would you? Even matchbox 20 is okay for a pop band. Better'n the Spice Girls." Spike chuckled. Spike being amused without having made some kind of cutting remark sort of creeped Xander a bit. Xander slumped down in his seat. He knew he should have brought some of his mother's Broadway show sound tracks. But no. He couldn't have tolerated them, even if they did piss off Spike. He'd have brought some of this beloved country music but the thought that Spike might hurt them was a horror he just couldn't overcome. Spike swerved into the right lane abruptly, causing Xander to shift in his seat. "Slow down, deadboy, jr.!" Spike said nothing, but cut across two lanes of traffic without signaling. He kept his eyes on the rearview mirror most of the time. "I think the watcher was right about the tail." Xander craned his neck, turning in his seat to look back. "Really? You think so?" "Yes I think so. I also think that all the good James Bond movies, that I'm positive you've watched, gave a clue about not turning and waving a bloody hello to the tail!" Xander turned back to the front and smiled. "You're right. I did pick that up from TV. What are you going to do?" Xander asked as Spike cut across to the left lanes without signaling. "Besides kill us?" Xander felt his heart speed up as Spike turned the car towards the familiar DO NOT ENTER signs. "Spike! You can't! It's an exit!" Spike grinned and gunned the engine, picking up speed. "Yeah, but its night. Shouldn't be much traffic." Xander clutched at his seat and checked that his seatbelt was secure. "It's California! There's all ways traffic." Spike swerved the car, ignoring the blaring horn of the car that had been speeding towards them. "Yes. Why is that? Can't you bloody Californian's stay home?" Spike weaved his way between three more cars, horns blaring, and quickly turned the little Honda into highway traffic. "See? Now we're all set! Just a couple of blokes driving the night away." Xander's heart still felt as if it was trying to push it's way out through his stomach and throat. "You could have killed us!" Spike spared Xander a glance. "Nah, pet. I could have killed you. I would have walked away just fine, maybe a little sore." "Oh, sure! Now all we have to deal with is all the calls 911 reporting us!" "Huh?" "I'm sure each and every car we passed has a phone with them. They've all called 911 and the highway patrol on us!" "Oh, right." Spike grinned at Xander and pulled the car to the shoulder. He got out and Xander watched him as he bent over the front of the car and then the back of the car. Spike seated himself back into the driver's seat and tossed a bundle into Xander's lap. "What's this?" Xander asked. "Our old license plate numbers. Let's be truthful, here Xander. I made a damn cool move. We don't have a tail any longer; the cops aren't looking for us, and best of all? It was damn well fun! Fun is good, Xander, or didn't the Slayer and Watcher let you learn that?" Spike shot out into the moving traffic, not giving any signal or warning. The car behind them blared its displeasure. Spike gave them a two fingered salute. "Fuck you too, mate!" Spike reached over and turned up Creed so that the band was blaring out of all five speakers at a deafening level. Xander turned down the volume. Just a bit. He looked at Spike, grinning his way through traffic. "I have never liked you, Spike. Never." Spike spared Xander a grin, before cutting across three lanes of fast moving traffic. "Ah, that hurts me deeply, Xander. Cause I have always, deep down in my dead heart, cared for you. Really I have." Spike chuckled and reached down, turning the music up even louder. "Ah, come on, Xander, sweety! This is an adventure! Adventures are good! Really they are!" 2 That's Why They Have Those Numbers Spike slammed his fist against the horn. "Just what makes these blokes think they own the road?" He sped up, passed the semi, and moved in front of it, slowing down. Xander worked his imaginary break and gas pedals. "I think it's the fact that they weigh several tons and can crush us like bugs!" Spike snickered. "Xander! I expect better from you. You should know size doesn't matter, pet!" He patted the boy's thigh before punching in the cigarette lighter. "Wheres'me smokes?" Xander had turned around, wanting to see the semi as it ran over them. Morbid, yes, but he couldn't help himself. He quickly turned back to face Spike when the vampire started to grope his crotch. "What are you doing?" "Looking for my smokes! I asked you where they are!" "The are not in my pants!" "Good thing, that. Thought maybe they were in your seat, though, luv." Spike quickly switched lanes again, buying himself time to look. "Hold us steady." Spike let go of the steering wheel and ducked down. Xander's heart stopped again but he grabbed the wheel. Spike came up with a grin and a crushed pack of cigarettes. Xander didn't speak. He couldn't. He was choking on his heart again. The damn thing kept either stopping or getting lodged in his throat. At least they were no longer in front of the pissed off trucker. Spike rolled down his window and flicked his lit butt out. Xander followed the glowing tip, watching as it arched, got caught in the wind and was swept into the driver's side window of the car behind them. He watched, enthralled, as the driver began to frantically beat at his head. The driver, his head now smoking, began to swerve. Horns blared as the driver crossed over into the next lane. The driver, his hair now on fire, over corrected and was hit by a fast moving SUV as he careened into its lane. The smaller car, its driver furiously beating at his flaming head, was sent spinning and crashing into the sidewall. Xander let out the breath he'd been unaware of holding, when the hair-on-fire driver stepped out, looking, well, if not too happy, at least alive. He smiled when the man finally put out his hair. Spike glanced in the rear view mirror, muttering about the crazy drivers. "Gimme the phone, Xander." "Huh? Did you just see-" "The phone, pet! Give me the bleedin' phone!" "Oh! Right! Good idea!" Xander fumbled around until he came up with the cell phone they had with them, handing it to Spike. Of course they should call and report the accident. He didn't think of. It had all happened so fast! "Like a bloody lunatic! That's how he's driving! What do you mean, where am I? I'm on the bloody highway about to be killed by one of yer soddin' great lorrys! Hold, on, yeah." Spike sped up, weaving in and out of traffic until he was on the ass of the semi again. "All right, then, the license plate number is. . ." Spike rang off with an evil snicker. "Here, pet." He held the phone out to Xander. When Xander made no move to take it, Spike looked his way. "Xander! What are you doing? Are you hyperventilating? For chrissake, boy! What's wrong with you? Do you mean to suck every bit o' fun out of this trip? It's only right that I reported that driver! That's why they have the bloody HOW AM I DRIVING numbers! I should've brought the Slayer with me! Bigger knackers than you, that one is sure to have. Here! Have some fresh air!" Spike rolled down the windows and cranked up the music. "You! You!" Xander began, gasping. "Me? Me? What?" "You!" "Yes me! Very good. Me Spike. You Xan-der. Can you say that with me? Xan-der." "You set a man on fire! You caused a wreck! You're trying to kill me!" "What are you blathering on about?" "You. Set. A. Driver. On. Fire!" "What? Where? When?" "On fire! Back there! You set him on fire!" "Now, just how did I do that?" "With your cigarette! You threw a lit cigarette out the window and it landed in someone's car! They wrecked!" "Really? And I missed it? Why didn't you tell me! You are trying to suck all the fun out of this trip!" Xander made a strangling noise. Spike reached into his coat and came out with a silver flask. An unusually large one. He held it out to Xander with a grin. "Here, Xander sweety. Have a nip. You've lost all your color." Xander took a gulp, coughing. He took a few more, gasping. "I don't like you, Spike." Spike chuckled and patted his thigh. "Why don't you sleep the rest of way, hum, pet? Won't be long now an' we'll be at the Pouf's, grab the goods, rest up, and be back on our way, home to good ole' Sunnydale, yeah?" "I'm driving back, Spike." "Um, yes. That's going to happen." "I am driv-" "Sleep!" Surprisingly, Xander did. Or maybe he just passed out from all the Scotch he'd downed. 3 And All In One Piece Spike maneuvered the car into the slow lane, dropping his speed to 80 mph and steering with his knees. His hands were busy searching for the cell phone he had dropped earlier; at least one was, the other was holding the map across the steering wheel, and most of the front window, obscuring his view. He was loath to wake Xander. The boy could try the nerves of a Saint, and Spike was no Saint. His hand latched onto the phone and he pulled it from beneath Xander's ass with a triumphant grin. He batted the open map down in time to see the car ahead of him practically stopped. He slammed on the brakes, his arm going out to hold Xander in place. Hell! Couldn't anyone drive anymore? Was he the only one deserving of an automobile? They should all go back to horse and buggy. "Non drivin' lunatics!" He hit the horn. "Drive! We're on the bloody highway!" He punched in the numbers, one handed, and put the phone to his ear, cradling it with his shoulder. His hand went to punch in the cigarette lighter and fish out another smoke. When he heard the greeting he replied in a sibilant voice, "Have you checked the children?" "Peaches! How'd ya know it was me?" Spike snickered into the phone, lighting up. "What? That movie is a classic. He's calling from the house! I loved it! So where ya at? Um. Yes. I know it. Don't suppose I've time to cruise through Beverly Hills, eh? Yeah. The sun. Oh, very funny. If I go poof while driving, little Xander might be a bit upset. What? He's sleeping. No! Terrible passenger! He's fine. I'm looking at him right now! No, I do not have his head in my lap and his body in the trunk! Although, that does-Oh! What? I'm a brilliant driver! Never had an accident! Ha! Say, I know this area! Isn't this where I had you tor-um, so? Got a good price, did you, then? Peaches? You there? Angel? Um. Yes, well. Won't be long now. Must ring off. Not safe to drive and talk you know." Spike hit 'end' and tossed the phone into the back seat. He crumpled the map up and tossed it over his shoulder as well. Time to watch for his exit. "Xany." Xander ignored the sing song voice. "Xaaannderrrr." "Um. No. Don' wanna wake up." "Come on, Xany. Wakey, wakey." "Umm, It's a teacher conference day, no school." "Xander." "I'm on the late shift." "Xander!" "I've been fired. Don' have to get up." "Xander!" Xander's head lifted with a jolt. "What? Shit! What?" He looked over at a grinning Spike. He'd never seen the vampire grin so much, and damn if it wasn't starting to give him the permanent creeps. He blinked his tired eyes, and yawned. "Oh. Right. So. Are we there yet?" He looked out the window at the unfamiliar and dark streets. "Just about, pet. And all in one piece, too. Reach back there and hand me the phone, will you, luv?" "I don't wanna take off my seatbelt." "Oh fer chrissake! Look about! Not a car in sight! Get me the phone!" Xander checked the streets for cars and pedestrians and stray animals and potholes. Thoroughly. He undid his seatbelt, reached over, snagged the phone and buckled himself back in with lightning quick moves. He held the phone out to Spike. "Here." "Xander! I don't believe I've ever seen you move so quickly!" "Yeah, well, my life was in danger." "I've seen you in mortal danger, pet; I've placed you in mortal danger, and still, I've never seen those moves." Spike chuckled, taking the phone and hitting redial. "Can you feel me? I'm close." Spike whispered into the phone. "I feel you. You're so close." "Do we really have time for the phone sex thing?" Xander asked. Spike turned the corner and the car headlights picked up Angel, standing outside a darkened building, phone to his ear. "Oooo, I see you. All sexy-like, in your leather. You know I like leather, don't ya baby?" Spike pointed at Angel and turned to Xander. "Look, up ahead, in the distance, in the black, it's BATVAMP!" He went back to talking into the phone. "You know what I'm wearing, sugar? Hum? What do you want me to wear?" Angel closed the phone and put it in his pocket. Spike pulled up beside him, still talking into the phone. "Sugar? Baby? I think my batphone died!" Spike parked and Xander jumped out of the car, running to greet Angel. "Deadboy! Good to see you!" Xander wrapped his arms around Angel and gave the surprised vampire a hug. "Angel!" He yelled out. He placed his mouth close Angel's ear and whispered. "Don't make me get back into the car with him, please don't! I'll do anything! Just don't make me get back in the car!" "Xander, uh, hi." Angel put his arms around the boy, patting his back awkwardly. Wesley stepped out of the building and Xander pushed away from Angel, going to the ex-watcher. "Wesley! Wes, my man! How've you been? How's things?" Xander gave Wesley a hug also, startling the man into a stumble. "Wes, what say? Can I borrow plane fare home from you? Pay you back, swear." Xander whispered into his ear. "Xander! You slut! Quit throwing yerself at the hired help! I'll get jealous!" Spike said, coming from the car. He walked up to Angel and held out his arms. "Give us a hug, then, Daddy." 4 "Oh, come on! Don't be shy!" Spike stepped close and wrapped his arms around his Sire. He lifted him up and planted a smacking kiss on Angel's cheek, before dropping the older vampire back on his feet. "Gosh, but I've missed you Angel!" He kept has hands on Angel's shoulders and stepped back. "You've grown so, sweets! So, um, broody and wide!" He slapped Angel's shoulders. "Oh, but wait. You've been broody and wide for awhile, now, haven't you? Not that that's not working for you-the whole broody, wide thing, I mean-looks good on you, too!" Spike winked at his stone-faced-closed-mouth Sire. "Well, then. It's the hair, right? Much more spiky than usual, isn't it? Is that for me, then, pet? Cause you know I love spikes, don't ya, pop?" Spike again winked at a speechless Angel, reaching a hand up to pat Angel on his heavily gelled hair. Angel batted Spike's hand away, stepping back from Spike with a frown. "Spike. Glad to see you made it." Spike placed a hand to his forehead and the other over his heart. He bent his knees, pretending to swoon. "Angel! Stop! You'll slay me with such talk!" He simpered, his voice a high falsetto. He glanced over at Wesley and Xander. "Hey! You! Defunct-watcher! Get your hands off my Xander! What's with you?" Spike demanded. "Oh!" Wesley pulled away from Xander, stumbling again. "I- I'm sorry! Didn't mean to offend." Angel cocked his head at him "Your Xander?" Xander glared at him. "Your Xander?" "Yes! What? Have you all gone deaf? My Xander!" Spike stepped away from Angel and went to Xander, engulfing the young man in a hug. Pulling away, Spike reached over and pinched the flustered man's cheek. "I feel all responsible like towards him. Protective, even. I plan to keep him safe, I do." He wrapped an arm around Xander's shoulders and grinned at Angel. "Sun's coming up boss, are they here yet? Xander! And Spike! Spike and Xander wrapped in each other's arms. Oh. What's up with that? No one told me that was something I'd have to see! A little *warning* would be nice, people!" Xander pulled away from Spike. "Cordy! Good to see you!" Xander began. Spike all but shoved a still flustered Xander from his arms, as he dashed to Cordelia, wrapping her in his arms. "Cordelia! Pet! You look fabulous! Ab-so-lut-ly fabulous! Well, yes, you do look a bit thin. Don't waste away on me, pet!" "Oh! Um, Spike! Hello!" She pulled back to look at him. "You can't bite now, right?" She looked to Angel. "He can't bite now, can he?" "No, pet. More's the pity. I'd just love to sink my, um, fangs into you, sweetling." "Oh! Well!" Cordy gave the blonde vampire a not-too-close hug, smiling. "Do you really think I'm too thin?" She grinned, greatly pleased with that concept. "Less of you is less for me, pet. But as always, a special treat for the eyes." Cordy giggled. "And Xander! Xander. How've you been?" Cordy held out her hand. Miffed, for reasons he didn't want to think about, Xander grabbed her up into a bear hug, burying his face into her neck. "Oh!" Cordy yelped, wiggling her feet and giggling. "Xander! Cut it out. Put me down!" "Yes, Xander, do put her down." Spike told him. "Well. Hugs all around. Hellos said. Sun's coming up. I suggest we get inside." Angel intoned. Spike snatched Xander's hand, pulling him close. "Lead the way, Sire." Angel walked into the building, followed by Wesley and Cordelia. Spike stopped Xander when he made his way to follow. "You know, pet, Angel has always fancied you. He might just be thinking now's his chance to have a go at you." Xander laughed. "What? Are you nuts, Spike? What the hell are you thinking about? Angel has always been in love with Buffy. Even you know that!" Spike snorted, waving away that argument with a dismissive arch of his hand. "I didn't say he was in love with you, did I? I just said he's always fancied you. There is a difference, pet. Him lovin' the slayer wouldn't stop him from wantin' to shag you! He is a vampire, you know, soul or no. He wants you, pet. I can tell these things." "No." Xander gulped. "You-you're wrong! Angel doesn't want me. You are nuts and not just when it comes to driving." Spike sighed, dropping his head and shaking it. Actually he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. When he was sure his grin wouldn't break through, he lifted up his head to look into Xander's eyes. His face and tone were grave when he continued. "Yes, pet. He wants you. Always has. Hell, the plans he had for you back when he was Angelus! Lets just say his ideas were not suitable for younger audiences." Xander gulped. Spike bit his lip. "Really? You're not just messing with me?" "Pet! Why would I do that? What would I have to gain?" He patted Xander's shoulder. "Tell you what. I'll help you out, just to keep myself in shelter and blood and all that, you know, you can put in a good word with Giles and the Slayer, let them know I helped you out in your time of need. We'll just pretend to be a couple. You'll be safe, then. Angel is much too souled and goody goody to poach on another man's, uh, man." It was Xander's turn to snort. "Oh right! After the whole 'O, Cordy, you're almost too thin for me to fuck!' routine, I doubt he'd believe we are a couple!" Spike snickered. "Don't be jealous, pet!" "I am not-" Spike cut him off. "Angel knows I'm an incurable flirt. It's all part of my irresistible charm." "You are not irresistible, Spike." "Humph! Am too! I've yet to be resisted." "No. Really, you are-" Xander was cut off by a heavy hand upon his shoulder. He turned to look into the concerned eyes of Angel. "Xander? Are you okay? Is Spike bothering you? Come inside with me now." Angel slid his hand down Xander's shoulder to grab his upper arm and draw him inside. He didn't notice how Xander stiffened. What was this? Did Angel's hand linger? His thumb was rubbing his arm! Maybe Spike was right. Xander's brain worked out the horrid possibilities of Angel wanting him. "What? No! Spike and I were just talking. He was-" "Oh, go on and tell him, pet! Xander was a bit upset with me flirting with the beauty queen. So jealous, this one!" Spike said, following the pair into the building. Angel's hand tightened on Xander's arm, causing the boy to panic and pull away. He grinned at Angel, nervously. "Yeah! I was. Jealous, I mean. But it's nothing!" He wrapped his arm around Spike. "I know my little Spikey-poo only has eyes for me." Angel gaped and Spike sputtered. Angel stopped walking, turning to face Xander. "Xander? Are you and Spike, uh, um-" "Yep! We're a couple. Lovers. My little Xany-poo is quite possessive, he is." Soul-full brown eyes looked upon Xander. "Xander?" Angel questioned. Christ! Were they disappointed? Those eyes were disappointed! Jealous? Envious, maybe? Oh, god. Spike was right! Xander's brain was working overtime. "Do the others know about this? I can't imagine them being-" "No!" Xander yelped. "No!" Spike shouted. "Not yet anyway. And don't you be thinking you need to run off and tattle to them, Sire. I've enough to deal with, what with my little Xany-poo, here, being shy. He's not ready for his little friends to know about us, are you Xany?" Xander kept a watchful eye on Angel. "Nope. Not yet. But soon." Xander leaned back against Spike. He was leaning away from Angel, really, but with Spike behind him, grinning and wrapping an arm around Xander's waist, giving his Sire a silent snicker, it looked like a lover's snuggle. Angel shook his head again. "No. I won't be telling anyone. Come on." Xander let the dark haired vampire walk a few steps ahead of them before following. He turned his head to give Spike a wide-eyed look. "I told you, pet." Spike whispered. He gave a face splitting grin when Xander turned away and followed Angel. He even skipped a bit. Oh yes, Spike was going to have fun this trip! The two followed Angel until they were in the large main room, where Cordelia and Wesley awaited them. "So then." Spike began. "Where's our, uh, thing? "What?" Wesley, Cordelia and Angel asked. "The thing! Where's it at? We're supposed to pick up the slayer-saving thing and go home! So, come on, give it!" Angel cracked a smile. An evil one. "It's not here, Spike. We have to go get it." "Well, fine. Go get it. What? You have it squirreled away in your mattress with your cash, pet?" Again with the evil-Angel smile. Not a pretty sight, that. "No, pet, it's in the middle of a nest of Bleathvore demons. You and I have to go and get it." Angel crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at Spike. The evil smile. "What? Call my Watcher, this instant! He didn't say anything about any Bleathvore demons!" "Your Watcher, Spike?" Angel asked with deadly calm. Spike suspected he wanted to laugh. "What's a Bleathvore demon?" Xander asked, taking a seat. "Nasty things, pet! Slimey! Long reaching tentacles! Stinging tentacles! Stinging, blood sucking, tentacles. Most godawful shade of green you've ever seen! Smelly as hell, too! I am not messing around with any Bleathvore demons to save a bleeding slayer!" Xander looked over at Angel. "Do I have to help go get this thing?" Angel gave Xander a small smile. Just what the hell kind of smile was that, anyway? Melting? Indulgent? Melting. It was melting! Xander's brain worked out. "No, Xander. It's too dangerous for you. I want you to stay here, where it's safe." Ack! Concern. Way too much concern! "I'll just take Spike with me. We'll be fine, I'm sure." The evil-Angel smile for Spike. "Um. This will be tough? Scary, maybe? Deadly possibly?" Xander asked. Xander had stopped thinking about Angel's lust for him as he began remembering his car trip. Car trip with Spike behind the wheel. Spike behind the wheel trying to kill him. Angel chuckled. "A little scary, sure. Deadly? Well, I hope not." Xander smiled at Spike. "Well, then. Sound's like an adventure for you Spikey-poo. You go enjoy yourself. Slay lots of demons. Have fun. I'll miss you. Bye, now." Xander sat back on the sofa, placing his feet on the coffee table. "Spikey-poo?" Cordelia asked. "Yep. My little Spikey-poo. We're an item. He's going off to slay the demons while I stay here and watch TV with you and Wes. It'll be an adventure for him. He likes those. What's on anyway? Got a TV Guide? Got any pop corn?" Part Five Cordelia moaned and clutched at her head. Angel and Wesley rushed to her side, leading her to a chair in the nearly empty room. "Is it a vision?" Wesley asked, worried. "Yes! I just got a visual of Xander and Spike together! I don't feel well! Ack! I need a happy place to go to!" "Oh. Yes, well, how about the beach? On a lovely warm day? Humm?" Wesley offered. Cordelia removed her hands from her face long enough to mutter, "Oh, nice. Naked Xander and Spike doing nasty things to each other and me with skin cancer." Xander glanced over at her. "How about the mall?" He offered. Cordelia continued to clutch her head. "Better! The mall, yes!" "The shoe store!" Angel threw out. "30 to 70 percent off the entire stock!" Xander chimed in again, getting into the game. "Oo. Yes. Nice. Getting better." "You in nothing but stiletto heels, between me an' Xan, and we're all naked," Was Spike's offering. "Aaagh!!!! Bad! Bad!" Angel slapped Spike across the back of his head. "What? Now that's a happy place!" "Just go back to the shoe sale, Cordy." Angel told her, rubbing her shoulders. "Ah, Angel?" Xander was looking away from the distressed Cordelia and towards the wall in front of him. And then to all the walls around him. The empty walls. He was comfy, happily seated on the sofa, already ignoring Cordelia, but where the TV should be was. . .nothing! "Where's the TV? Watching TV is a happy place." Cordelia lifted her head and removed her hands from her eyes, to glare at Xander. "Okay! It's my happy place! You go find your mental mall!" Xander told her. Angel settled Cordelia and came to kneel before Xander, placing a hand upon his knee. "There's no TV, Xander. We lost everything in the explosion. We're, well, starting over. A TV wasn't really on the top of my list of things to rush out and replace." Xander pulled his knee from beneath Angel's and and scooted over a bit. "So what you're saying is, there's no TV. Is that right?" Angel smiled. "Um, yes. Sorry." "Oh! Well great! I don't suppose you have any popcorn either?" "Um, no. We have popcorn. Cordelia likes it." "Yeah. I have a case in the kitchen, next to the microwave." Cordeila told them, seemingly having found her happy place. "You bought a microwave before you bought a TV? What's wrong with you people?" Xander demanded, truly astonished. "Fine. I'll go slay demons with you and Spike!" "Xany? Babe?" Spike simpered. "What, Spikey-poo?" Xander gritted. "The sun's up! And I'm tired! Had a long drive. Need rest. The effin' Bleathvores will just have to wait. Peaches? Got a room for me and my Xany-poo?" "Well, no, I don't." Spike looked around and threw his arms out wide. "There is no room in this entire bleeding city block big ass warehouse you have here? Not a one, peaches?" "Couch is fine!" Xander began, "If fact, wh-" "Not one room?" Spike demanded, cutting Xander off. "Plenty of rooms, Spike. Just no furniture in the rooms." Cordeila told the irate vampire. "Don't need furniture; just a room!" "I thought maybe we could get some research started. I know where the Bleathvores might be, but I'm not certain. Plus, I think we need some more information on them before we confront them. Cordy, why don't you check the Internet." "Oh, and of *course* you have a computer all set up, eh? Shall we surf on over to bleathvore dot com? Visit their website? Check out the links on how to kill and steal from them? They are scavengers and pack rats. Maybe they have their stock listed on the website, eh? Is that the plan?" "You got a computer before you got a TV?" Xander asked. Angel rolled his eyes and gave Spike his evil smile. He ignored Xander. "Spike, there is a lot of useful information on the Internet." "Yeah. Weirdoes, perverts, and creeps. I'm sure they post lots of useful information on their Bleathvore sites. Where's the phone? I'll ring my-the bleedin' Watcher! Giles will have the information we need! He has books!" "Good idea, Spike. Why don't I run out and get you a TV, Angel? You got room for a 50 incher in here, at the very least. Cordy? What say we hit the mall, help your boss out while they do the research thing? If not the mall, I'm sure LA has lots of 24 hour stores where we can pick up a nice set." Angel looked at Xander with pained eyes. "I'm not sure I want something that big, Xander." "Ah, come on! The bigger the better!" He blushed. "Um, I mean, when it comes to TV's! Big is good. For a television." "Well, I guess you and Cordy could-" "Get me the bleedin' phone! Why can't I get a phone when I want one! I left my batphone in the car!" "Come with me, grumpy." Cordelia led Spike into what he presumed to be the kitchen. It had a sink, a fridge, and a microwave. And maybe that thing in the wall was an oven. Could be. Oh, and a case of microwave pop corn on the counter. Yep. Kitchen. He snatched up the phone hanging on the wall and dialed Giles' number. "Sneaky fuck, you! You didn't say there would be Bleathvores! Oh, yes, I guess you did forget that part! We made it fine. Sorry, maybe I'll crash on the way home. No. Not a scratch! Shut yer gob about that! Gimmie everything you know on the bleedin' Bleathvores! Peaches wants some more info on the slimy devils. Well, sure. Ocean. Yeah. Collectors. I know that! Stinging, watcher! They have stinging blood sucking tentacles, ya daft fool! No! I'm calling just to hear yer pretty voice! Yes! I want your help! Hey! You want my help! The bloody Slayer can get all gobbled up for all I care! No need for threats! I'm here aren't I? Ready to lend my dead hands! Uh, huh? Yeah. Really? Really? Well, I've never heard that one before! Um, yes. Uh huh. Interesting. Yeah. Hold on." Spike placed his hand over the mouthpiece and called out for Cordelia. "What?" "Got a pad and pen?" "Sure, wait a sec." Cordy came back with the requested items. "Watcher? Repeat all that, slowly, sos the beauty queen can take it all down." Spike handed her the phone. "Here ya go, luv. He's lots of good stuff for you. Be a pet and write it down, won't you? I need to get back to my Xander." Cordy glared at Spike's retreating back. "Giles? Yes. Hold on! Wait, how do you spell that?" Search: The Web Tripod Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » Select Rating share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Chapters 1 It's An Adventure 2 That's Why They Have Those Numbers 3 And All In One Piece 4 Angel 'Whats' Me? 5 TV's and Happy Places 6 Internet? We Need 'Books'. And a Room 7 Put To Bed Naked? 'Stay' Naked 8 My What Big Rats You Have 9 And They Dont Even 'Mate'. 10 Better Than Bored 11 Spike Loses Angel's Lower Limb 12 Bargining for Vampires. 13 I Don't Hear What I Know. 14 Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me? 15 Spike, or the Shiny Headed Santa Clause 16 And the bullet in my ass? 17 Removing coats and bullets 18 Is that an oar or are you just happy to see me? 19 Are We There Yet? 20 Don't Forget the Sign 21 Home Safe and Sound and Presents Too! It's An Adventure by Michelle 6 Internet? We Need 'Books'. And a Room "Cordelia is gettin' the information from Giles. Real information." Spike told the others. He gave Angel a stern look. "Now I want a room." He smiled. Beautifully. He walked over to the couch, picking up Xander's hand. He sighed. Dramatically. "I want to sleep. I need my little Xany with me." He leaned down, giving Xander a bussing kiss on the lips. "I just can't sleep without him anymore. Call me crazy, but I'm in love." He fluttered his eyelashes at Angel. Xander choked. "Ah, honey." Xander gave Spike's hand a hard squeeze. He'd have broken bones had it not been a vampire's hand; Spike just smiled down at him and raised their clasped hands to his lips, kissing Xander's. "I was going to go out and buy Angel a nice TV. You know I love my TV, sweetums." Another hard squeeze, useless as the first. "He can buy his own TV on his own time. We're here to get the, um, thing. Whatever the bloody hell it is. An' seeing as how I'll have to battle Bleathvores for it, I need some rest. No time for telly, pet." "Well," Wesley stood. "I've a perfectly good room here, with furniture." He smiled. "Well, a bed and chair, at least. You two are more than welcome to it. I won't be needing it any time soon. I'll have to see to the research and such. I'm not certain the type of weapons needed to vanquish Bleathvores, but I'll look into. See what Giles has to say." "Wesley, you don't have to give up your room to Spike." Angel stated, standing big and wide, arms across his chest. "Spike can help with the research." "Wes, you don't have to-" "Splendid!" Spike cut Xander off and ignored his Sire. "Can't quite put you to all the horrible things I've heard about you, mate. You seem a fine chap, really. Show us to your room." Spike gave a smile Angel's way and pulled Xander up. "Spike, really. I've known you to be up for days at a time. Why this sudden need for rest?" Angel asked. Spike waggled his brows, grinning and holding up his and Xander's clasped hands. "I need some rest Peaches! Get me?" "Well, I'm not tired at all, and I think Angel needs me to go buy him a decent television!" Spike sighed and rolled his eyes. "Still so innocent, despite all I've done to and taught him!" Spike turned, slid his hands into Xander's hair, cupping his head, and kissed him. He thrust his tongue into Xander's open mouth. Spike moved his hands to Xander's shoulders and pulled the boy close as his tongue slid along Xander's, reaching up to tickle the roof of Xander's mouth. He pulled back to smile at the dazed man. His smile went to Wesley. "Lead on." "Um. Yes of course. Follow me." Wesley started and Spike followed, leading Xander along by his hand. "Here you are. Perhaps I should get some fresh sheets-" "No need. Thanks so much. We'll strip the bed. Bye." Spike pulled Xander into the room and shut the door in Wesley's face. "Well, that one is perfect company for Peaches!" Spike took off his duster and threw it on the chair. "You!" Xander gasped, finally finding his voice. Spike sat on the bed and began unlacing his boots. "Yep. Me. This again, pet? Me Spike, you Xander. Thought we covered this already." He stood, bootless, and began undoing his jeans. "You!" "Yep, me." Spike drew his shirt over his head and pushed down his jeans, stepping out of them. He lay on the bed, naked, and patted the spot next to him. "Lay down, Xany." "You kissed me! And now you're naked! Why in the hell are you naked?" "I'm seducing you, Xander. Get with the program, pet." Spike patted the spot next to him again. "Come, on. Be a luv and lay down. Oh, yeah, take off yer clothes first. That be quicker." Xander giggled. He started with giggles and quickly made his way to full on guffaws. "Spike! Cut it out! We're alone! Game's over." Spike gave a very put upon sigh. "Fine, Xander. Make it hard on me." Spike rolled off the bed and walked to Xander. He stood before him and looked into his eyes. "I am going to have you, pet." He waggled his eyebrows, causing Xander to start giggling again. "What? Spike! What's wrong with you? Spike?" Spike pressed his naked body to Xander's and kissed him again. Hard. Nothing tentative about Spike's kiss. His tongue thrust in, claiming Xander's mouth as his own, as his hands went to Xander's jeans. Xander was unbuttoned and unzipped before he could catch a breath. His jeans and boxers were pushed down and over his ass, falling to gather at his knees, and Spike was cupping his naked ass in seconds, pulling Xander's pelvis against his naked hardness. Spike moved his mouth from Xander's mouth to his ear, biting and sucking at the earlobe. "Come on, Xander. Just a bit o' fun for us. Fun is good." Spike whispered into Xander's ear, reaching down and taking hold of Xander's flaccid cock. He began rubbing it as he sucked Xander's earlobe. Spike trailed his cool tongue from Xander's ear to his throat, stopping to suckle at the juncture of neck and shoulder. He pulled away to quickly pull Xander's T-shirt over his head, tossing it over his shoulder. Spike reached back down to Xander's growing erection. "Just all part of the adventure, sweets." "But-," Xander began. "Shh." Spike maneuvered Xander to the bed, pushing him down upon it. "I don't want-" "Shh." Spike knelt down and removed Xander's shoes. He pulled the jeans and boxers off and pushed Xander down, coming on the bed and astride Xander. He smiled down into Xander's confused eyes. "You'll be fine, pet. Don't think anymore. Just feel, luv. Open your mouth" Xander did. Open his mouth. To vocalize his adamant protest, he was sure, but Spike's tongue was in his mouth and down his throat before he could get a word out. And his hands! His hands were doing all kinds of horrible-wonderful-things to his body and they robbed him of his ability to speak. To protest. To shout out "no!" And he would have. Of course he would have, but how could he talk when Spike was sucking and biting at his nipples like that? And Spike's finger was in his mouth and he was sucking on it, drawing the digit deep, and loving the feel of it as it pressed down on his tongue. And Spike's hand-that evil, demonic, wonderful hand, was working at his cock like a dream come true, and Spike's mouth was sliding cool fire down his chest to his navel and sucking it! Licking it! Swirling his tongue around and in it! So, really, all he could do was moan and thrust his cock into the hand that held it, and GOD now into the cool mouth that engulfed it! All of it, and Jesus, yes. But that felt so good! Xander could only whimper in protest when the mouth left, but it came back, and a cool hand was holding on to and cupping so sweetly at his balls and JESUS, but a wet finger was sliding into his ass now, and oh my God, what was it doing? Don't stop doing that, please don't stop. Hands, and mouth, and murmurs, and, God! It all felt so good! And then Spike was over him, smiling down at him, and his legs were pushed wide and open and up and he felt a burning and a tearing and a pushing and it hurt but it felt good, so good, and Xander was pushing back against it and still it hurt but hurt so good and more, please. More, oh yes, fuck me, fuck me. And God yes! And the cool hand still working at his cock, and the fullness thrusting into him and now a cool mouth and tongue working at his mouth. With his mouth. Tongue sliding in and taking over. Xander's hands went to Spike's shoulders, holding the vampire close as he was fucked and licked and jacked. Xander was mindless with pleasure, whimpering, moaning, begging, and clawing at Spike's back. And then he was cumming. Too soon, shooting himself across their stomachs, sealing them together, wrapping his arms and legs around Spike, thrilling in Spike's shout of completion and the cool jetting of Spike into his depths. Xander kept himself wrapped tightly around the cool body of the vampire over him, listening to his soft purrs, for several minutes-hours. He didn't know. And then he was breathing again. Panting, really. Dizzy, because he hadn't taken a breath since that mouth had taken his cock all the way down into its cool tight depths, he was sure. Had any thing ever-in this world-felt so wonderful? Had he ever felt so wonderful as he did right now? Jesus! Spike had made him feel like this! What should he say? What should he do? What did this make him? He placed his still shaking hands on Spike's shoulders. "Spike?" He whispered, tentatively. Spike snuggled his body closer. Xander heard a soft snore. The vampire was asleep. 7 Put To Bed Naked? 'Stay' Naked "Spike?" Xander whispered a little louder. Not even a snore. Spike really was asleep. Xander pushed at the vampire's shoulder. He was rewarded with a snore this time. Soft, sure, but a snore none the less. "Well, hell!" Xander was bubbling with energy and confusion. He wanted to talk. He wanted to hash this out. He wanted to. . . He wanted to do it again! How could you have mind blowing sex and just fall asleep, he wondered. Should he wake him? No. Yes. Yes, Xander thought. He'd wake him. He'd go get a drink of something and then he'd wake him. Yep. Good plan. Xander pushed the sleeping vampire off of him. Spike rolled over, lying flat on his back, but didn't flutter an eyelash. Xander gave a disgusted snort and sat up. Water. He was thirsty. Mind blowing sex will sometimes do that to you. He reached for his jeans and shoved them on. He gave the sleeping vampire a dirty look and headed towards the door. Once opening it he ran into Angel. "Xander." Angel placed a hand on Xander's shoulder, squeezing it. Doing that thumb thing again! "Are you okay? You look- well you look-" "'Well and thoroughly fucked' is the phrase you're looking for, Angel, and he does." Cordelia chimed in, coming down the hallway. "And can I just add a heartfelt 'yuck'? 'Cause, yuck! It's not a sight I'll be putting in my happy places to revisit, let me tell you!" She narrowed her eyes at Xander. "Where's grumpy?" Xander blinked. "Um, Spike is asleep." Cordelia snorted. "Yeah, I bet. We're researching like crazy and you two are doing nasty naked things to each other. Fairness is lacking, here." "Spike's tired! He hasn't slept-" Xander began, defending the vampire he was pissed off at. Angel squeezed Xander's shoulder again, moving his body in front of him. Close. "But are you okay, Xander? He didn't, um, he didn't hurt you did he?" Xander coughed, backing away. "Um, no! Of course he di-" "Oh, Angel, please. If that look is hurt, then sign me up for some of that kind of pain! And forget I just said that! Come on! I've found something." Cordelia began pulling Angel away, but the vampire's eyes stayed on Xander's, concerned. "What was it you needed, Xander? Can I get you anything?" "Um, no. I'm fine. I was thirsty, but I'm not. Um, I'm not anymore. I'm okay. You go on." Angel raised his eyebrows as Cordelia continued to pull him away. "We have juice. Would you like some juice?" "No! No. Really, I'm fine. I need to talk to Spike, anyway. We'll be out, soon." "Well, let's hope so!" was Cordelia's parting shot, as she led Angel down and out of the hallway. Xander backed up; keeping his eyes on Angel as his hand went behind him and opened the door. Man! He really had it bad for him, didn't he? Xander's brain surmised. Xander went back into the room, closing the door behind him and turned to look at Spike. He walked to the bed and plopped down upon it. He scooted his body close to Spike's and slammed his fist down upon the vampires' chest. Spike's eyes opened. He blinked, coming awake. "You just hit me, pet?" Xander glared down at Spike. "Yes." "Um, thought you might have." Spike rubbed the spot where Xander had socked him. "You know, it says a lot about the affection I hold for you that I'm not trying to rip your lungs out." Xander continued to glare down at him. He snickered. "Not really. You can't rip my lungs out, remember?" "Um, yeah." Spike reached a hand up to rub across his eyes and down his face. "True, pet, but I didn't even try did, I?" He yawned. "So what's this about, then, you hitting me as I slumber? And don't think I'm not wanting to rip yer lungs out about it." Spike grinned, belying his words. "You!" Xander sputtered. "Damn it, Xander! We've done this! Me Spike, you Xander! I want to slee-" "You went to sleep after we, uh, after we-" Spike grunted. "Shagged, pet. After we shagged. And a good shagging it was, eh?" He grinned up at Xander. Xander sputtered and brought his fist down again. Spike grabbed it and rolled them over, coming to rest over the flustered youth. "What's got yer knickers in a twist?" Spike asked, truly confused. "What? We had a good shag, right? Now we sleep!" "No! Now we have to talk! Now I have to know what you were doing with me! Now I have to know if you're-" Spike placed a hand across Xander's mouth and nodded his head. "Ah. I get it. You-" "And I went out to get a drink of water and Angel was all over me!" "What? What? Angel was all over you?" "Yes!" Xander told him. "He wanted to know if you hurt me and if I was oka-" "If I hurt you? What does the pouf think I'm doing to you? Oh! He thinks he can just move in on you, once I've got you all primed! He can just think a-" "Huh?" Xander asked. Spike blinked. "Um, I mean to say, he's just hoping to catch you at a vulnerable moment, pet. And you go off all half-cocked 'cause I'm sleepy. How does that look?" Spike leaned down and kissed Xander. He thrust his tongue into the dark eyed man's mouth and swept it in, tasting and tantalizing. He pulled back, pleased to see the eyes looking back at him, dazed. "I like you Xander. You are important to me. You're special." Spike kissed Xander again and then lay his head down on Xander's chest, hoping to go back to sleep. Xander socked him in the head. "Oh, very nice. That would make me feel much better if I was a freshman girl in high school and you just stole my virginity!" Spike groaned but didn't raise his head. "What? It's not universal? I like you. You're important to me. I won't tell my friends. I won't tell your friends. I want to see you again. Besides, pet, while I might have snacked on, or killed you, I certainly wouldn't have wanted to shag you when you were a freshman! I'm not Angel, Xanpet. Don't go for kiddies." Xander bit down on Spike's shoulder. He drew blood. Spike chuckled, truly amused. He lifted his head. "What?" He smiled down at Xander. "Come on, Xany, can't we sleep? I really do have to battle Bleathvores, you know. I need to rest up for that. And the shagging really was important to me. You're mine now. All mine, sealed with bodily fluids." Spike rocked his body against Xander's. "Yes, but, I-" Spike sighed and cut Xander off with a kiss. He reached his hand down to Xander's jeans and undid them. Spike looked at Xander. "Note for future reference: If I put you to bed naked? Stay naked." He told Xamder, shoving his jeans down. "Oh! You can't just start fuc-" Spike reached down and pulled out Xander's cock. He held and caressed it, kissing Xander's responsive mouth. "Um, maybe you can." Xander mumbled as Spike pulled away and thrust a finger into his mouth, sliding his body down, and engulfing Xander's hardening cock into his cool mouth. Spike took all of Xander down his throat and began running his tongue across Xander's already tightened sac. "Oh, god, Spike. Yes! I'm sorry. What ever I said to you, I'm sorry and I take it back!" Spike grinned around his mouthful of Xander. He let Xander's cock fall from his mouth and raised up. He shushed the boy's protests and pulled Xander's jeans from him, tossing them to the floor, coming up and laying next to the youth. "Kiss me, pet." Spike commanded, softly. Xander did, placing his lips tentatively to the vampire's cool ones. Spike's mouth opened and Xander plunged his tongue inside, thrilling at the taste. Xander's hand went to Spike's face, cupping his cheek and holding him still, as his tongue and lips explored and savored Spike as he would a particularly good piece of chocolate. His hand began to roam across Spike's chest, his thumb stopping to rub at a nipple. Xander moved his mouth from Spike's, sliding down his cheek to his neck, leaving a wet trail. Xander suckled and nuzzled, licked and bit his way down Spike's body, until he was able to draw a beaded nipple into his mouth. "Nice, pet." Spike murmured as his hands came up to slide into Xander's hair. Xander let out a incoherent sound and continued to lick his way down Spike's body. When he reached the vampire's erection, he took it in hand and ran his tongue across the weeping head, savoring the taste of Spike. Spike let out a moan, and Xander took the tip into his mouth, running this tongue around it. "Good, pet. More." Xander nodded his head, Spike still in his mouth, and pushed the cock deeper inside of him. He let his tongue cup the underside of Spike's cock as he bobbed his head, sucking and tasting. Xander gripped Spike harder, his thumb running along the thick vein, as he continued sucking the vampire deeper into his mouth. "Ah, yes, pet. Lovely. More." The slurred, pleasure filled words, thrilled Xander and he increased his pace. "Umm. I'm gonna cum soon, luv" Xander nodded his head vigorously, wanting to taste Spike. "Pet-" Xander placed his unoccupied hand across Spike's mouth and sucked the vampire's cock deeper into his mouth. Spike sucked two of Xander's fingers into his mouth and matched Xander's sucking rhythm. Xander would have grinned if he could have, instead, he continued sucking and jacking Spike into the hot depths of his mouth. Spike gave a shout and came. Xander paused, tasting, savoring, and finally swallowing. He held Spike in his mouth and hand, sucking softly as the vampire's cock softened. He looked up, grinning at Spike. "Liked that, did you, pet?" "Yes." Was Xander's unabashed and enthusiastic reply. "Sleepy?" Spike asked, a little hopeful. Xander shook his head like a wet dog. "No!" Spike grinned. "You're a horny thing, aren't you?" "It would seem so." Xander gave his best Giles impersonation. Spike laughed. Really laughed, greatly pleased and pleasured. He reached down and grasped Xander's shoulders. He pulled Xander up and then tossed the boy down, flat on his back, swooping down, he swallowed Xander's cock whole. In minutes Xander was gasping out in completion and pleasure, thrusting into Spike's talented mouth. Spike crawled up the bed, coming to lie next to Xander. He thrust a hand under the boy and pulled him close, placing Xander's head on his shoulder and his chin resting on Xander's silky head. "Sleep, now? Please?" "Um, yeah. I could sleep now." Spike gave a contented sigh and closed his eyes. "Spike?" Spike bit back his moan. "Yeah?" "I like you. You're important to me." Spike smiled against Xander's soft hair. "Won't tell your mates?" "Not if they don't ask." Spike sucked in a mouthful of Xander's hair and pulled at it. All he got in reply was a soft snore. Xander was asleep. 8 My What Big Rats You Have Spike heard the door open and moved closer to Xander; pulling the sheet up and throwing his leg and arm across the sleeping youth. "Spike." Angel's voice was calm and patient. Always so fucking patient, Spike thought, peeved. "Yeah?" "We're pretty sure we know where the Bleathvores are holed up. It's after sunset. Well after sunset. We should get going." Spike grunted. He moved even closer to Xander. "What say you go make sure they're really there? Come back and get me when you've pinned 'em down." "Spike." Angel said, still all calm and patient. "Effin pouf." Spike muttered. "Spike. Let's go." Spike growled, low in his throat. Xander murmured and moved closer to the vampire, seeking to soothe and calm, even in his sleep. Spike grinned and petted the soft dark hair on Xander's head. "Spike. We have to go." Spike muttered an expletive beneath his breath and reached out to shake Xander awake. "You don't have to disturb Xander, Spike, let him sleep." Spike turned disbelieving eyes to his Sire. "Yes, I do have to 'disturb' Xander! I have to bloody well wake his ass up and tell him I'm leaving and that I'll be back! You may think it's fine and dandy to leave without so much as a 'piss off', but I know you don't do that!" Spike shook Xander's shoulder a little more roughly than necessary. "What? Shit! What?" Xander blinked, scowling. Spike grinned down at him. "You!" Xander muttered sleepily. Spike grinned wider, rolling his eyes. "Yes, me. This is a tough concept for you to grasp, eh, Xander? Me Spike, you-" "Xander!" Xander finished. He giggled and sank under the sheet. "Spike?" "What is it, pet?" "About waking you up?" "What about it?" "I offer a full apology. It was cruel. Wrong! Terribly wrong of me. I see the error of my ways. Now, le'me'lone. Sleepy. Sleep now." Angel watched, as Spike's grin grew even wider. His eyebrows rose and then fell to a scowl. He coughed. "You gettin' sick, Spike? That sounds nasty. Do vamps get sick?" Xander asked, his words slurred with sleepiness. "I'm fine, pet. Does sound nasty though, I'll admit. Sounds like Angel." The sheet over Xander's head puffed up as Xander chuckled. "It did!" "That's cause he's here. Come to take me off to fight the Bleathvores, Xanpet. Now give us a kiss goodbye." Xander yanked the sheet down with both hands. "What? Already?" Xander looked over at Angel. He pulled the sheet up to his chin. "Really?" Spike nodded. He rose from the bed, naked, looking for his pants. "Where'd you toss my denims to, Xander?" Xander pointed across the room. "That way I think." Angel walked across the room, retrieving Spikes trousers and handing them to his unconcernedly naked childe. "Give 'em here!" Spike snatched them away from Angel, sitting on the bed to shove his legs in; he stood, pulling them up and over his naked ass. Xander grinned at the pretty ass before it was hidden behind the faded denim. "My boots?" Xander rolled over and picked up the battered Doc Marten boots. "Here." Spike took them from Xander, leaning down to place a kiss on Xander's forehead. "Thanks." He sat back down, shoving his feet in his boots and buckling them tight. Spike stomped his feet against the floor. "Right, then." He stood, picking up his shirt and heading towards the door. "Hey!" Spike turned back at Xander's shout. "What about, um, your, ah, goodbye kiss?" Xander asked, feeling silly and needy for asking in front of Angel but needing to ask anyway. Spike winked at him, pulling the door open. He then waggled his eyebrows, causing Xander to smile and bite back a giggle. "You can kiss me 'hello' when I get back. Get some sleep, Xander. You won't get much when I get back." Spike promised, leading Angel out of the room and closing the door. "What is it, exactly, you are doing with Xander?" Angel asked. Spike kicked at a rat, sending it flying several yards. He watched it land in a puddle of stagnant water with a grin. His eyes widened and he gave a whistle through his teeth when the thing picked itself up and scurried away. "Tough rats you have down here, Angel. They bite?" They continued walking along the sewer tunnel, heading for what was, hopefully, a den of Bleathvores and their stockpile of pilfered treasures. Spike kicked another rat. "Stop that!" Spike's head shot up and he grinned at Angel. "Oh. Right. You may want to eat him later, eh?" "What are you doing with Xander?" Angel asked again. "What are you doing with the beauty queen and the not-a-watcher-anymore, watcher?" "Nothing! They work for me! I'm not do-" "Yeah, well, that's not my problem, is it? Not my fault. Not my business either, is it?" Angel sighed. "I've always liked Xander, Spike. Despite his dislike of me, I feel, well, protective towards him." Spike snorted. Angel kicked the rat that was about to run across his shoe. The poor thing was sent speeding through the air, landing hard enough against the wall that its back was broken upon impact. Spike crushed its head when he reached it. "Spike?" "Yeah?" "Dammit, Spike! What the fuck are you doing with Xander?" Spike snickered. He meant to, at least, but before he could get a good "snick" out, Angel had a hand wrapped around his throat and was holding him against the slimy wall of the sewer tunnel. Spike's hands came up to wrap around Angel's, trying to loosen his Sire's hold. "What." Squeeze. "Are." Squeeze. "You." Squeeze. "Doing." Squeeze. "With." Squeeze. "Xander?" Squeeze and hold. Spike gasped and mouthed something. Angel came closer to hear what Spike has was saying. Spike kneed him in the groin, catching Angel off guard. He brought his hands up to push his Sire away, sending the older vampire against the far wall. Angel snarled and came at Spike, murder in his dark eyes. Spike grinned, bending low for the impact. It didn't come. Instead, there was a "foump" sound and both vampires fell to the damp floor, covered in a heavy net. Shuffling footsteps and non-human chatter followed. Spike was prodded with something wet. Something wet and slimy that had a sucker on the end. When the sucker was pulled away from his cheek with an audible "pop", Spike could feel the stinging welt as it rose on his face. "Bleathvores." He groaned and reached out his hand, feeling for Angel. Once he connected with his Sire 's overly gelled head, he punched it. "This is all your fault!" He hissed. "No it's not! It's-" Angel didn't continue. A hard crack over each of the vampire's heads stopped any further bickering for the moment. It was a blessing for them both that they were out as they were dragged the rest of the way through the sewer tunnels and into the Bleathvore's nest. They would have been heartbroken to note what was happening to their leather. 9 And They Dont Even 'Mate' Spike moaned, coming to. He pulled his duster from beneath him and laid the tails across his legs, letting the damp sink through his jeans. He focused on the tears and smears of god only knew what fouling his most treasured possession. He ignored the pain in, and the lump on, his head. "Ah, sod it all! Would you look at my coat?" Angel grunted, sitting up and holding his head. "Your coat? What about my hair?" He ran his hands over it; they came away sticky with slime. He shuddered, wiping his hands on Spike's jeans. He looked down at his pants, torn and covered in filth. "Oh, shit! Look at me!" He decided not to look at his leather jacket; he didn't want to know. "Yer jacket is torn to shreds, Angel." Spike told him. "Cheap leather. Must be from this decade." Angel groaned, still not looking, and sure Spike was exaggerating. The brat. Spike looked around. It was dark, damp, smelly, and piled high with junk and rotting garbage; Bleathvore den for sure. They were in a cage, their backs resting against what seemed to be old carpet nailed over even older wood nailed together in a V and turned upside down making a back rest, if not a whole chair. The damp, mucky floor served as the seat. A rather large cage, considering stingy, money-grubbing traders were holding them. Bleathvores were not known for their penchant for extras. Spike was sure the cage must have already been here. He reached out to grab one of the bars of the cage that held them. ZAP! "Shit!" Spike pulled his hand back quickly, sucking at his electrocuted fingers. "I hate it when old time demons mess around with technology." He muttered around his burnt fingers. "They don't know what they're doing! One of 'em is gonna take a piss and 'zap' we're gonna be fried!" Angel was quiet, taking in their surroundings. He could hear the demons, not more than a hundred yards away, chattering in an incomprehensible-to him, at least-language. He studied each pile of junk surrounding them. He nudged Spike with his elbow, and pointed. "That's what we want." "An old wig? Nice. That's just what I would have thought could save the slayer." Angel ignored the snide comment. "See the clay bowl? With the Je'dellian writings?" Spike looked at the junk heap. "Yes, I do. I see lots of old bowls. That must be the cookware and wig pile. And old trouser pile. Oh, yes, and what's that? Plain ole rotten garbage! No! Wait! Have I spied with my little eye an old tin of tuna? Have I?" "You're not helping Spike." "No. I'm not helping, am I? And why is that, do you suppose? Maybe because I'm trapped in an electrified cage being held by bloody Bleathvores in the bloody bowels of Los Angels with my bloody pouf of a Sire? Do you think that could bloody well be the cause of me not helping? Eh? Do ya?" "Could be, but I doubt it. I think you're just ornery." "Angel?" Spike moved closer to his Sire. "What?" Angel wrapped his arm around his childe and pulled him closer, unconsciously offering comfort to his bratty childe. "Can you even begin to imagine how much Bleathvores don't know about electricity?" Spike asked, leaning his head against Angel's shoulder, unconcerned about what it looked like or what it meant. He would not deny that sometimes his big pouf of a Sire was, well, comforting to have around. He would never admit it, but he wouldn't deny it. No matter how much he hated him. "We'll be fine, Spike." Angel told him, keeping his eye on the Je'dellian bowl. A tentacle was thrust into the cage, catching Spike across the mouth, and pulling him towards the back of the cage. He opened wide and bit down. His reward was a face full of venom and a piece of Bleathvore. He spit out the Bleathvore before he passed out. "They really are are a very interesting group. Been around for centuries. Traders and collectors, really, nothing more. Always looking for a deal. Amazing that they haven't been eradicated, seeing as how they haven't a very well developed intellect." "You think? Cockroaches don't seem to do well on the SAT's but we still have those Wes." Wesley smiled, placing the papers Giles had faxed to them on the table. "You are right, Cordelia. Sometimes intellect is not needed for survival." Xander came into the room. "What's up?" "Case in point!" Cordy offered, holding out her hand towards Xander. Wesley smiled at Xander. "All rested up?" Xander blushed and smiled. "Yes. So? Where are they? They check in yet? Can I get something to eat?" "Don't know. No. And yes, we have some Chinese food in the kitchen. Sit down and I'll bring it out. You and Spike, huh? What's up with that? I dump you and you can never have another woman again? Not even a human?" Cordy asked. The idea pleased her. She grinned to herself as she went into the kitchen to retrieve the boxes of left over food. Xander sat down next to Wesley. "How long have they been gone?" "A few hours. I'm sure everything is fine." Xander smiled at Cordelia once she placed a tray of take-out boxes and a soda in front of him. He began to eat. "How long did they say they'd be gone?" Cordy sat down and crossed her legs. "Angel never says. Who's to know?" "Where'd they say they were going?" Xander asked, slurping up hot and spicy noodles. "Oh well, into the tunnels." Wesley offered. Xander nodded. "Yeah. "Where into the tunnels? What tunnels?" Wesley shuffled through the papers on the coffee table. Xander couldn't believe Angel had purchased a coffee table before a TV. "Well! It looks like Angel took the information with him. Never mind. I'm sure they're perfectly fine." Spike came to with a pain-filled moan. His face felt sore and five sizes too big. He reached his hands up, discovering it was only his lips. And they were only two sizes too big. Maybe three. They throbbed with pain from the Bleathvore venom and his teeth ached. He looked over at Angel, taking in the sucker shaped marks covering his face. The welts were small, swollen and bright red. Spike giggled, wincing as his lips stretched. Angel quickly turned his head to look at his childe. "Are you okay?" "Doe'no. Do I look as bad as you?" Spike reached out a hand to run over Angel's marred face. "Hope I don't. 'Cause you look bloody awful, Sire." Angel grunted and pushed Spike's hand away. "I'm sure you look much worse than I do. I don't look like Barbara Hershey in BEACHES." Spike's hands flew back to his lips. "Hell! That big?" He nudged his Sire. "Well?" "Well, what?" "What's the plan? Get us out of here!" He twisted around, looking for the Bleathvores. "Where the bloody hell have they gone off to?" Spike turned back to Angel. "So do it. Make with the batvamp stuff and get us out of here." Angel smiled at Spike. "And you mocked my so called 'batvamp stuff'. Now you want me to sprout wings and fly us out of here." Angel shook his head. "Angel!" Spike hissed. "This is no time to find your long lost humor! Get us out of here! Use the batphone at least. Call for backup!" Angel shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. My batphone can't seem to penetrate these tunnels." "Damn you, Si-"Spike stopped talking and froze when he heard the shuffling of approaching Bleathvores. Five of the tentacled creatures stood in front the cage looking at them and pointing. "How's your Bleathvore? Mine's a bit rusty." "Never learned any." Spike sighed and began to listen carefully. "I think they think we're humans." Bleathvore 1: "Not human. Vampire." Bleathvore 2: "Vampires? Nasty things. Parasites." Bleathvore 3: "Maybe we could sell or trade them?" Bleathvore 4: "Right! What would want a vampire? They bite! Suck blood!" Bleathvore 1: "I could offer it to my mother-in-law. As a present." All Bleathvores: Laughter. Bleathvore 5: "We have to do something with them!" He looked over at 1. "I told you not to come to this city! But no! You want to go to Disneyland!" He pointed his bandaged tentacle towards Spike. "The shiny-headed one bit me! I say we cut their heads off!" Spike looked at Angel. "I think that one likes me. Thinks I'm 'shiny'." Bleathvore 3: "Oh come! Something out there must want a pair of vampires, do you not think? Maybe they are a breeding pair? Someone could set up a nice tank. Conversation piece for the gathering room. I would take them, but my kids always let the pets die. They are kind of cute, in a human-looking kind of way, do you not think so?" Bleathvore "No "No I do not. I think they are ugly and they bite. Mother-in-law-gift, perhaps. Anything else, no! We could not sell or trade them, I bet. And I hear they blow up in the sun." Bleathvore 4: "I have heard that also. We would have to keep them watered down. And feed them blood. Where would we get blood?" He looked over at Angel, studying his hair. "And covered with some type of vampire jelly. Too much trouble." Spike looked at Angel. "That one doesn't like your hair." Angel grunted, scowling. "Well, who would? It's mussed!" Bleathvore 2: "The dark one looks mean." Bleathvore 5: "That is probably just camouflage. See how the shiny one looks sweet and pretty? That is the one that bit me. All I did was touch him, to get a better look. The dark one is probably docile. Tamable, even. Still, we should cut off their heads. Besides, I have heard they do not breed." All other Bleathvores: "Gasp!" Bleathvore 5: "It is true. They do not even lay eggs. They do not breed as normal creatures should. We should cut off their heads." Spike cocked his head. "I think they want to breed us." He looked at Angel. "If so, you get pregnant." Bleathvore 3: "It would be a waste to cut off their heads, unless there is a market for vampire heads. Is there? I think we should go above and inquire. It would be wrong not to even try to get something for them." "I think they're talking about your hair again. Or your head. I can't tell. They must be speaking in some kind of slang. Can't be pure Bleathvore!" Bleathvore 1: "I know a human-" Bleathvore 5: "Oh you! You always know a human, do you not? Like the human that was to obtain the vervellian case for us. At a reasonable price." He rolled four eyes at his companion. "You and your human connections suck." Bleathvore 1: "You would not know a good price if it mated with your nether regions. I am sure I can get something for this pair of vampires. I challenge you!" "I think they want to fight over me. Or over who has to take you." Spike told Angel. "Spike?" Angel closed his eyes and leaned against his makeshift backrest. "Huh?" Angel grabbed the back of Spike's torn duster, pulling him down and next to him. "Just sit down and shut up, okay? Let's just wait and see what's going to happen." Spike turned truly horrified eyes upon his Sire. "Just wait and see?" Angel didn't open his eyes as he threw his arm around his childe and pulled him close. "Yeah. Wait." Spike whimpered and burrowed closer to Angel's side. Bleathvore 5: "You challenge me? You dare to?" Bleathvore 1: "Yes! I will go above and I will find a trade or a buyer for them." Bleathvore 5: "And if you do not?" Bleathvore 1: "Then you may have my mother in law." All Bleathvores: Laughter. Bleathvore 5: "Very amusing. I shall have your mate. And your daughter. The pretty one." Bleathvore 1: "Fair enough. Rest, brothers, and I shall return." The group left the cage. 1 to go make a deal, the others to drink and gamble away from the treasures and the vampires. "Angel?" "What is it, Spike?" "My legs are cramping. Can't we try and lift the cage over us? Doesn't have bars on the bottom. We'll just grab hold and lift it up." "It's electrified, Spike. And probably very heavy." "Yeah? So?" Angel sighed. "Not yet, Spike. Maybe later." "Promise?" "I promise." 10 Better Than Bored Spike rose and began to pace the small confines of the cage. The damn thing was shrinking, closing in on him; he could feel the bars moving closer to him. His jaw was sore from clenching it, his head throbbed, his palms were damp with sweat and blood, his nails cutting into his palms as he clenched them tightly, over and over again, flexing his fingers, his skin was crawling and his chest ached. If he still had a functioning one, he'd be worried about having a heart attack. He itched from toe to head. He couldn't take this! The waiting was killing him! He had to get out of here. He reached out his hands and grabbed hold of the bars. ZAP!!!!! Spike sprang back, cursing and shaking his hands. "Shit!" He held them before his face and began to blow on them. "How fucking long have the Bleathvores been gone, Peaches?" Spike asked, his ears still ringing from his latest electrocution. Angel had opened one eye when Spike was zapped. He checked his watch, and closed his eye again. He let out a sigh. This was going to be a long night, he was sure. Hell kind of long. "It's been fifteen minutes, Spike." "Well, hell, Sire." Spike raised his arms wide and let them fall, his torn duster flapping about. "You're gonna have to knock me out. I'll be as loopy as Dru in another fifteen minutes." Angel snorted. "What makes you think you aren't already as loopy as Dru?" "Ha. Ha. You're just suckin' the marrow right out of yer new found funny bone, eh, Peaches?" Spike began walking the perimeter of the cage, not looking at Angel. "It won't be long before I try to distract myself by bashing your head in. You know that doncha, Peaches?" Angel didn't open his eyes. "I have half-an-hour at least." He smiled at Spike. "Maybe even forty-five minutes." Xander woke with a start. He had dozed off on the sofa. He looked over and noticed that Wesley and Cordelia had done the same thing. He looked at his watch and gasped when he saw the time. Five o'clock in the morning! Where were they? "Cordy! Wes!" Xander stood and began to shake Wesley awake. "Oh! I must have fallen asleep." Wesley removed his glasses and wiped his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked Xander, replacing his glasses. "It's late! It's after five! They should have been back by now!" Wesley stood and placed his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Calm down, Xander. I'm sure Angel and Spike are fine. They'll return with the needed item; Buffy will be safe." Buffy? Xander gave the ex-watcher a confused look. Buffy? "I want Spike." He pushed Wesley away and went to shake Cordelia awake. Spike was looking at his boot. And then he was looking at Angel's head. The boot. The head. A match made in heaven, he was sure. He smiled a bit as he imagined how good it would feel to kick his Sire in the head. Hard. "Spike." Angel muttered softly, eyes still closed. Spike's eyes widened. "What?" "Don't" "Don't what?" Spike asked, all innocence. "Whatever you're thinking about; don't do it." "We need to go look for them." Xander stated. Again. Cordelia had woken and made a pot of coffee. Really bad coffee and ignored his desperate need to take action. "Xander, I'm sure they're fine. Angel can so handle himself. And Spike? Well, it's demons they're fighting, right? No problem for grumpy." Xander gave her a dirty look. "Where does Deadboy keep his weapons? I just know he's stocked up on weapons." Spike had resumed pacing. It didn't help. Not even a little bit. He could hear the Bleathvores, not too far away, and they seemed to be having a bloody good time, while he was locked up in their effin', stinking, electrified cage. He wanted to rip several tentacles from each and every one of them and shove them up their asses. Or, at least, be allowed to play in the card game he had concluded they were playing. He walked closer to his Sire and lashed out his foot. Angel grabbed Spike's ankle before his booted foot could connect with his head and pulled, sending Spike sprawling on his back. Lightening quick, Angel was over Spike, straddling him, the younger vampire's hands held over his head by Angel's, as he smiled down at Spike. "Over an hour. I'm impressed, Spike. How'd you manage?" Spike grinned. This was better than pacing, at least. He tried to pull his hands free. Angel leaned closer, adding more of his weight to Spike's pinned hands. "I was thinking about kicking your head in. That made me all happy and gave me tingles." He frowned. "Didn't last long, though. Thought I'd try the real thing." Angel smirked. "Real thing doesn't seem to be working for you." "I wouldn't say that, Peaches." He turned his head and bit Angel's arm, his fangs sinking through Angel's leather. Angel gasped and pulled his arm away. He quickly grabbed Spikes free arm, holding both arms down just above the elbow. Spike grinned. "I'm not bored anymore." Angel narrowed his eyes, regarding Spike with deadly intent. He said nothing. "Come on, Angel. Let's tussle." He kicked his legs up. "A cage-match, if you will." He grinned. Angel continued to stare at his childe. "Your lips still sore?" Caught off guard, Spike answered. "Yeah. A touch sore." Angel grinned. "Good." And then he thrust his lips down upon Spike's puffy ones. Hard. Xander stood before the weapons cabinet, shaking his head in disbelief. He whistled, a little bit excited at the display. Still. "How much did all of this set Deadboy back? He couldn't spring for a portable TV before he dropped thousands of dollars on this?" Wesley and Cordelia ignored him. "Just what is it you think you're going to do, Xander?" Cordelia asked. Xander pulled a large hunting knife out and thumbed the blade. He gave the pair a nasty grin. "We." He stated firmly. "We are going to find my vampire." Spike's eyes bulged and he froze. Angel was kissing him. He opened his mouth to laugh and Angel's tongue thrust in, tangling with his. Angel laid his body down upon Spike's; his knee thrusting between Spikes legs, right below his crotch, and shoving them open as he continued to kiss him. Kiss him! "Wha'?" He started to ask, but Angel let go of one of his arms and thrust a hand into his hair, cupping his head, raising it a bit and holding it still as he continued his deep, exploring kiss. Spike didn't finish his sentence; he let himself be kissed. Angel let go of Spike's other arm, keeping it poised only an inch away, ready to imprison it again, Spike was sure, should he make a defensive move. Spike gave a mental shrug and thrust both his hands into his Sire's, mussed, still slimy, hair. He kissed back. This, too, was better than pacing. Much better. He bit down on his Sire's tongue, delighting in the taste of his Sire's blood, long denied, but never forgotten. Angel pulled back, slightly, and bit his childe's swollen lower lip. "Shush." Angel muttered, as he reached his hand down and began to undo Spike's jeans. He moved his mouth to Spike's neck once he held his childe's hard cock in his hand. He licked Spike's neck and rose enough to push Spike's pants down and over his ass. When Angel laid his still leather-covered crotch over Spike's naked one, Spike's clouded mind began to clear a bit and he stiffened. "Just what the bloody hell-" "Shut up." Angel placed his mouth over Spike's again. He licked at and suckled Spike's mouth, nibbling and thrusting his tongue inside. Angel reached down and began to undo his pants. He hissed and muttered when the task proved to be difficult one-handed. Spike snickered once free of Angel's questing tongue. He cocked an eyebrow. "Mind telling me why yer intent on raping me, Sire?" Angel placed a hand over Spike's mouth, leaning all his weight down, as he continued to work at his stubborn zipper. He grinned, triumphantly, once his hard cock was free and thrust his naked erection over Spike's. He used his now free hand to open Spike's shirt and then his own. Once naked, cool chest met naked, cool chest, his tongue was back in Spike's mouth, and his hand was holding and rubbing their two cocks together. After a moment, Angel rose on one hand and turned Spike over. "What-" Spike started, but Angel had a hand across his mouth and began suckling the back of his ear before the protest could finish forming in his mind, let alone be spoken. Angel dragged his tongue from Spike's ear to his neck, across it, and to his other ear. He sucked and chewed at the lobe, bringing his hand up. He spat on his fingers and coated his cock. Angel snaked his hand under Spike's waist and pulled up. "Raise up, Spike." Spike did, sticking his ass in the air. He moaned loudly once as, cool, saliva wet fingers were thrust inside of him. He whimpered when they were removed. He gasped and grunted in pleasure when his Sire came over and into him, thrusting in to the hilt, pushing him flat to the damp, rotting floor and fucking him as if there were no tomorrow. Angel reached around and grabbed hold of Spike's erection, jacking in time with his hard thrusts. He closed his eyes and allowed himself the pleasure of fucking his childe. He let himself come once he had felt the jetting, wet spurts of Spike's release against his hand. He lay down fully upon his childe, closing his eyes. He figured this had bought him another hour, at the very least, before Spike was trying to kick his head in again. Maybe an hour and a half, if he was lucky. Once he noted Spike was asleep he allowed himself to drift away into sleep also. Neither vampire noticed the Bleathvores watching them. Bleathvore 2: "What was that?" Bleathvore 3: "Kind of scary was it not? Breeding, do you suppose? I thought they do not breed." He looked at 5 accusingly. Bleathvore 5: "I stand by my statement." He looked closely at the still joined vampires. He shuddered. "That was not breeding! They are the same. Same do not breed." He shuffled closer. He smiled, three rows of teeth showing. "But this? This, maybe we could sell. Perhaps a tank would not be amiss." Search: The Web Tripod Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » Select Rating share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Chapters 1 It's An Adventure 2 That's Why They Have Those Numbers 3 And All In One Piece 4 Angel 'Whats' Me? 5 TV's and Happy Places 6 Internet? We Need 'Books'. And a Room 7 Put To Bed Naked? 'Stay' Naked 8 My What Big Rats You Have 9 And They Dont Even 'Mate'. 10 Better Than Bored 11 Spike Loses Angel's Lower Limb 12 Bargining for Vampires. 13 I Don't Hear What I Know. 14 Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me? 15 Spike, or the Shiny Headed Santa Clause 16 And the bullet in my ass? 17 Removing coats and bullets 18 Is that an oar or are you just happy to see me? 19 Are We There Yet? 20 Don't Forget the Sign 21 Home Safe and Sound and Presents Too! It's An Adventure by Michelle 11 Spike Loses Angel's Lower Limb. Or, Bet I can win it back "So. We're here. At a known demon and vampire haunt. At least it's daylight, right? That's good, isn't it? Still, we're at a place Angel wouldn't even let us walk close by, let alone enter. He made us sit in the car and wait. Why was that again, Wes? Oh! I know! Because he thought we'd be killed dead if we went in!" She turned her dark acusing eyes towards Xander. "How are we going to do this again? And why are we doing this, again?" Cordelia asked nervously, as she stood in the doorway of the vampire club, clad in one of Angel's leather coats, the sleeves rolled up over her hands. An over-sized coat that held several wooden stakes, a loaded crossbow, a handgun, and a water gun that held plenty of holy water. None of which made her feel safe. She shivered, looking at Xander. She rubbed the sleeve of the leather coat. It did feel nice and it calmed her a bit. Xander sighed. He was up to this. He, too, was wearing one of Angel's long leather coats. They all were. And they were loaded for bear. Or vampire. Or demon. They were not short on weapons, he was sure. He looked at Wesley and Cordelia. Not short on courage, either. Short on faith maybe, but courage they had. Even Cordy, shaking in her boots, was ready and willing to step into the demon bar. Wesley looked ready to battle the fires of hell, all decked out in his own leather, along with one of Angel's coats, a scowl marring his attractive face. "Wesley comes with me, positions himself at the back of the room, wall to his back. I go to the bartender. You, Cordy, stay by the door." He looked at both of them. "Draw your weapons only if I give you the signal, and not when I draw mine, got it?" They both nodded. "Remember, I'm gonna *show*, that's pretty much a given. Don't panic. We're gonna be cool and business like. Only draw when I give the signal. Got it?" Again they nodded. Xander gulped. "What's the signal?" He asked. Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Splayed hand held in the air. Yeah, yeah. Let's do this." She so better get a bonus. Spike woke when he felt a cold, wet sucker upon his cheek. He opened his eyes, but didn't pull away. Maybe if it pulled away first it wouldn't sting him. He had enough Bleathvore venom in him to kill a horse or five, he was sure. He smiled charmingly and said "Hello" to the Bleathvores gathered around the cage. The tentacle was withdrawn and he wasn't stung. Spike grinned and pushed his Sire from him. He watched Angel roll to his side, still asleep. He felt a sting of pride to know that he had fucked his Sire so well that the pouf didn't wake; didn't even blink an eye. Damn, but he was good. Bleathvore 3: "What did it say?" Bleathvore 5: "Goodbye? That is what it sounded like. Do you think it speaks our tongue?" He looked at the others. "Where does it think it's going, anyway?" Bleathvore 2: "Maybe it can speak our tongue. If so, we really could sell it!" Bleathvore 3: "Sell it to who? A Keskicainiovre could utter my tongue, but still, I would not wish to own one. Same with this vampire. Let us await our brother. If they can be sold or traded he will let us know." Bleathvore 5: Contemptuous snort. "He will find neither buyer nor trader for these things." Bleathvore 2: "It did not bite you again." Bleathvore 5: "Obviously it is tired. You have seen what it has just done. Would you not be tired after such exertion? Bleathovre 2: "Perhaps it not biting you is learned behavior." He looked at 5. "I am sure you do not taste good." Bleathvore 5: "I am certainly most pleasing to any taste buds! Even vampire ones! A tasty treat to be sure!" All other Bleathvores: "Snicker." Spike moved closer to the cage, pulling up his pants and fastening them on his way. "Shall we play, mates?" He made shuffling and dealing motions with his hands, as if he held a deck of cards and continued in what he hoped was their language. "Cards? Play? Wager?" All Bleathvores: "Did he say challenge?" "So? Are we ready to do this?" Xander asked again, stalling. "Yes! Let's go already, before I change my mind!" Xander gave the door a hard push and walked in, Wes and Cordy close behind him. He moved to the bar quickly, Wes went to the end of it, his back against the wall; Cordy stood close by the door, the wall at her back, just as Xander had told her to. The bartender gave the three humans a disinterested glance and continued his task of drying shot glasses. "We're closed." The bar was, thankfully, almost empty. The vampires and demons that did inhabit it looked pretty much wasted. "That's okay. Good even. All I want is some information." Xander told the bartender. The vampire sat the shot glass he was holding down on the bar and smiled at Xander. Smirked, really. It pissed Xander off. "Do you now? Are you willing to die for your information, boy?" "No, Sir." Xander pulled a handgun from his back and pointed it at the bartender's head. "But I'm willing to kill for it." He smiled. The bartender picked up another shot glass and chuckled, unconcerned. He began to dry the glass. "I think maybe you'll die before I do." "You think?" Xander pulled a crossbow out and aimed it at the bartender's chest, heart level. Xander kept the gun pointed at the vampire's head and smiled. "All I want is a little bit of information. I seem to have lost a friend of mine." The bartender kept his hands on the bar and his eyes on Xander's crossbow. "Have you? Boys?" The patrons of the bar began to stir, waking and murmuring. Xander held up his hand, fingers stretched wide. Cordy pulled a SuperSoaker water pistol from beneath Angel's coat, pointing it at the row of booths along the wall, Wesley pulled out the same with one hand and a ten-loaded crossbow with the other, knees locked and looking deadly, ready to unload both weapons. "All I want is some information." Xander repeated, not looking away from the bartender. "I seem to have misplaced my vampire. He's about so high." Xander didn't move his weapons from the bartender. "Bleached blonde. Snippy. Bad attitude. You'd know if you'd met up with him." Cordy shot out a stream of holy water, catching one vampire across his ear. She grinned. She'd been aiming at the back of his head. "My vampire is bigger. Dark and broody. He'd be quiet and reasonable, all nice like. And I want him back!" The vampires gathered in the bar, exchanged looks. First one snickered; then one more, did. And then another let loose a chuckle. Then the group could no longer contain themselves and laughter rang through out the dark, dingy club. "I'm not finding the funny." Xander told the vampire-bartender. The bartender continued to laugh, really trying to hold in his chuckles as the guns were aimed at him. Xander sighed. "I'm thinking, maybe, you know where I can find my vampire. Share the joke." The bartender just laughed harder. Xander moved the pistol and shot the bartender's ear off. He was quite pleased that neither Wesley nor Cordelia flinched and inadvertanly shot someone. Or something. "Tell me." "Shit! Stop! Don't shoot!" The vampire grabbed his ear, giving Xander a dirty look. "Shit! Bleathvores have them! One was in here not too long ago trying to sell them, or trade them for a case of tequila!" He snorted, "Like I'd trade good drink for a couple of vampires!" He stopped talking at Xander's narrow eyed gaze. "Um, he just left, though. I sent him to Kelly's, just down the road!" Xander smiled. "Call Kelly's and get him back here. Tell him you have a buyer." Angel woke to Spike's and the Bleathvore's chatter. He was without his coat and his pants were up. He couldn't believe he had slept. He turned to look at Spike. He couldn't believe what we was seeing! Spike had a pile of junk behind him, his coat at the bottom of it, and cards in his hands as he sat close to the bars, and all but one of the Bleathvores sat just outside of the cage, cards in their hands. His brows rose when Spike spit out a stream of incomprehensible gibberish. He raised his arm to check his watch. It was gone. Bleathvore 2: "Yes! I do say your mother sucks the slime from a Vencore." He looked to the others and grinned. "While she mates with your favorite four to six legged type of home dwelling pet." Spike snickered and slammed down a card. All Bleathvores: Moan! Several more pieces of junk were pushed carefully through the bars of the cage. The Je'dellian bowl among them. "Spike?" Spike whipped his head around to look at Angel. "Peaches!." He patted Angel's stomach. "Shh. Yer knocked up, pet. Don't upset our little one." Spike translated as best he could. All Bleathvores plus Spike: Laughter. "What are you doing? And where is my watch?" "Just having a bit o' fun, Sire, waiting to see if we've been sold or traded. And sorry, but I seem to have lost yer watch." He tilted his head towards Bleathvore 5. Angel noted that the Bleathvore was wearing his watch on one of its lower tentacles. He scowled. "I've just won the slayer-saving-thing-bowl, though and that's the good news. Bad news is I think I've lost our baby. I'm not too sure. Hey! These blokes speak a bit of Spanish! Imagine that. And they don't suck blood! Blood just wells up from the poison they inject. Neat, huh?" Angel picked the Je'dellian bowl up and wrapped it carefully in his coat. "Sold? Or traded?" Spike dealt cards. "Yeah. Profit-minded, these blokes are. Seems one of them went off to get a price or trade for us. Shit!" Spike reached behind him, grabbing a piece of hose and tossing it to the pile. Bleathvore 5: "More! Not an equal bet." Spike showed his fangs. Bleathvore 5 raised two tentacles towards him. "Fine! Fine!" Spike added an old red wig to the pile, causing Bleathvore 5 to grin. Cards were looked at, studied; all but Bleathvore 5 and Spike folded. Bleathvore 5: "I wish to have the dark ones lower limb." "Sure. Oh, wait. I can't. It's attached to the rest of him." Bleathvore 2: "The covering. You want only what encases the end of its lower limb." Bleathvore 5. "Yes. What he said." Spike nodded. "Give me yer shoe, Peaches." "What?" "Give me yer bleedin' shoe! I've got a bloody fabulous hand, here! Give me the shoe!" Angel did. He was sure he'd never wear the slime-encrusted thing again, but he was hoping he wouldn't have to walk out of this place in his stocking feet. Or stocking foot. Bleathvore 5: "Ha!" Spike: "Well, hell." He turned to look at Angel, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry. Lost the shoe. Give me the other. Bet I can win it back." 12 Bargining for Vampires. or What Are Your Toes Worth? Kelly burst into the dingy bar, all smiles. He was followed by a cloak covered Bleathvore. "Brad, my vampire friend! I am so glad you called me! I would have hated to let my Bleathvore demon buddies down! I always try and come up with a buyer for these dudes! They have the best stuff sometimes! Lots of junk, sure, but man sometimes you can get a diamond the size of a starlet's tit from these guys for a bottle of booze!" Kelly laughed, continuing towards the bar. "I heard a tale that you're looking for a pair of vampires. My man here just happens to have a line on a pair: one dark, one light. Expensive though. Caged vampires aren't easy to find, as you know, my friend. Your kind are caught more dead than alive!" The red headed little human laughed, once he reached the bar. Xander grabbed him, pulling him close to the bar and placing the gun at his temple. "Tell your friend that I want my vampire." Kelly did. Bleathvore 1 flapped several tentacles. "Payment is needed. I risk my mate and my most attractive daughter. I am not caring if your human brains are spilled across this business table." "What the hell did he say?" Xander demanded of Kelly. "He said let me go, or your vampires are dust." Xander sent a bullet into the chamber, grabbed Kelly by the neck and pushed him face down on the bar. He shoved the gun into Kelly's ear. "My Bleathvore is, by no means fluent, mind you, but I am positive that is not what he said." Wesley spoke. "Is that true, Kelly? Did you just lie to me?" Xander asked, menace in his tone. "No! No! If you don't let me go the vampires are dead! These Bleathvores are crazy, dude! Killers! Who the fuck are you, anyway?" "Um, no, not really. They're mostly peaceable. They wouldn't kill if they could get a good price or trade." Wesley spoke again. "Hey! I know Bleathvores and these-" Xander pulled the gun away from Kelly's head and shot some of his toes off. "Ow! Ow! Fuck! You shot me! You shot me, you crazy, fucking, bastard!" "For hellsake! Stop shooting! You're gonna bring the cops here!" The bartender yelled, still holding his ear. Xander ignored the bartender. "Well, Kelly, you've lost a few toes. Wanna loose something else?" Xander sent another bullet into the chamber of his gun. "Hey!" Xander's head moved to the back of the bar. "What?" He aimed the gun at Kelly's other foot, his hand still holding Kelly's head to the bar. A female vampire from one of the back booths stepped out. She stretched her tall frame and picked up a pack of cigarettes, shucking one out and lightening it with a zippo retrieved from her generous bosom. "I speak Bleathvore." She winked at Wesley and replaced her lighter. "Fluently." "But are you willing to translate?" Xander asked. "'Cause if you're just teasing me, honey, I have to tell you: I'm pissed enough to shoot you, too." She laughed, white teeth flashing against the bright red of her painted lips, as she tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder. She sauntered to the bar, tall and lithe, encased in black leather pants, red silk camisole, black leather vest and red leather boots that went to her thighs. The heels were at least five inches. Cordelia thought she looked like a Hollywood version of a Hollywood hooker. She aimed her supersoaker at her as she walked towards the bar. "Don't shoot, Killer." She held her hands up for Xander and blew him a kiss. "Buy me a drink and I'll translate." "You heard the lady. Pour." Xander told the still bleeding Brad. Bleathvore 1: "What is this? Buy vampire or not?" "Gimmie a scotch, Brad. Give me the bottle." Wesley aimed his crossbow at the bartender. "From the back wall, Brad. Keep your hands where I can see them." The bartender shot dirty looks at Wesley and the female vampire as he reached behind him and snagged a bottle of scotch. He slammed it down in front of the grinning she-vamp. "Here ya go, Danielle. Enjoy your last drink here." Danielle gave a fake pout and laughed. "Ah, Brad. Don't be such a hard ass. Can't you see, they just want their vampires? I think it's sweet." She took a long pull from the bottle. "Who'd come looking for you?" Bleathvore 1: Agitated sounds. "Buy the vampires or not?" It stamped several legs, sending slime flying. "I must make a deal soon! I will not be beaten!" Danielle turned to look at Xander. "He wants to sell the vampires. Now." "Hello? I'm bleeding to death here!" Kelly whined. Xander stomped his foot over Kelly's mangled one and left it there. "Arhg!" "Direct pressure. Shut up." He looked at Danielle. "Tell him we want to see the vampires first. Make sure they're okay." "They are willing to buy your vampires, but they want to see them first. Examine the wares." Danielle told the Bleathvore. Bleathvore 1: "This is acceptable to me. Tell the weapon wielding males not to send any projectile pieces of metal or wood into me and we can discuss a deal." "Don't shoot him. How much are you willing to pay for them?" "What does he want for them?" Danielle asked the Bleathvore his price. Bleathvore 1: Looking at Cordelia. "The weapon wielding female. She would be good." Danielle cocked her head towards Cordelia. "You willing to part with her?" "No." Xander and Wesley told her. "Hey! No way! Are those pants squeezing your *brains*, too?" Was Cordeila's reply. She pumped the supersoaker. Danielle grinned and took another swig. "No. The female is not up for trade." Slime went flying as Bleathvore 1 rippled his disappointment. "The arrow shooting weapon would be good. And their skins. Very nice skins they are. I would trade the shinny headed vampire for all the skins." "He'll give you the, ah, 'shinny-headed' one for a crossbow and your coats." "Both vampires for the coats. No crossbow." Wesley told her. "Wes-" "We have to bargain Xander. Otherwise he won't deal." "You know what you're about, don't you, sweety?" Danielle smiled at Wesley. He preened. "The skins for all vampires. No arrow weapons." Bleathvore 1: Thinking, several tentacles rub at its head, several more tap at the floor. "No." Danielle took a swig. "Nope." Xander, finger tightening on the trigger of his gun. He wanted to shoot something or someone. "I figured that's what he said. Tell him to give-" "Tell him the coats and a case of liquor. His choice of liquor." Wesley cut in. He smiled at the bartender. Danielle made the offer. "A case of booze that you guys are going to pay for, right?" Brad spoke up. Wesley pushed his glasses up with the end of the crossbow and then quickly aimed it at Brad again. "Oh! Why, ah, no." Bleathvore 1: Grinning, all rows of teeth shinning with happiness. "This is a good and acceptable offer. I will have the liquor now and the skins once we trade. You will come with us to make the deal. You speak well and you speak the tongue of the vampire as well as that of the human. I like you. Do you have an owner?" Teeth flashing, tentacles oozing and rippling. Danielle laughed. "I own myself. I will not be part of the deal." She flashed her demon face at the Bleathvore. His tentacles fell, all of them. "Vampire. Fine. You will explode in the sun, yes?" "Yes. I like the night." Bleathvore 1: "Then we will wait. Tell them I want tequila." "I like your taste, Bleathvore." She took a swig from her bottle. "He wants a case of Jose Cuervo and the coats. And he wants me to go with you." She told the others. "We are not waiting here until sundown!" Cordelia snorted. "Oh, right! I'm gonna wait around for a bunch of vampires to come and get their drink on! I don't think so!" Bleathvore 1: "You have not tasted me, vampire. How is it you find me pleasing?" "Cordelia is right, Xander. We can't stay here waiting for a bar full of vampires." "Tell him we need to go now." Danielle did. Bleathvore 1: "The bleeding human knows of our tunnels. We need not see the sun." "He says Kelly knows the tunnels." Danielle stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. "That true, Kelly? Can you take us to the tunnels." Xander ground his foot against Kelly's toeless, bleeding one. "Yeah. Sure. If I could walk I could." "Still looking to loose the other toes, Kelly?" "Brad has an entrance to the tunnels in the back! He does!" "Fuck you, Kelly!" All weapons were trained on Brad once again. Danielle giggled and took another swig of scotch. "Come on, Brad. Play nice. Let's save some vampires. Tell you what: You come up missing? I'll look for you." "You'd look for me in the bottom of a bottle, bitch." Danielle smiled. "And maybe you'd be there." She took another drink. "Maybe not." She walked-well sauntered-to Wesley and stood next to him. "Shoot him again, Killer." She told Xander. Xander raised his gun from Kelly's ear and aimed it at Brad's shoulder. "No! Wait! The tunn-" Too late. Xander shot him. "Fuck! You sick little fuck! Stop shooting already!" Brad's hand left his still oozing ear and went to the new hole in his shoulder. "So. You're going to take us to your tunnels now, right?" Xander asked. "Yes! Don't shoot! Follow me!" And they did. Cordelia and Wesley keeping a look out, walking carefully backwards into the back room and to the sewer entrance of Brad's bar. Danielle, still sipping from her bottle, and the Bleathvore, still oozing, followed. "Let's not forget the Bleathvore's case of booze!" Danielle chimed in. "Bitch." Brad muttered, going to and pulling out a case of good tequila. Xander knew that he was having way too much fun blasting holes in vampires and murdering toes. Living on the Hellmouth was bound to make a guy just a little blood thirsty, wasn't it? And maybe Spike was rubbing off on him? Or maybe it was too much violence on TV? God, but he wanted to be vegging out in front of a TV right about now! "Xander?" Cordelia whispered once they had reached the tunnel. "Yeah?" He asked, heading down. "You're scary." Xander paused, cocked his head and thought about that. He continued down the stairs. "Thanks." "You're welcome." "Damn it, Spike! Bet your own shoes!" "They don't want my boots, Peaches. They've taken quite a fancy to yer shoes, though. I keep winning 'em back don't I? And didn't I get you that bottle of hair gel?" "Humph. Suave hair gel." Angel ran his hand over his newly stiffened, but still disgustingly dirty hair. "I bet a perfectly good pair of old sneakers for that! What if I had lost them?" "Spike?" Spike grunted, studying his cards. "It is garbage you're playing with, boy. You do know that, don't you?" Angel asked, a bit concerned. Maybe too much Bleathvore venom drove vampires insane. Spike dealt more cards through the bars of the cage as he puffed at a cigar he had won from a previous match. It was a little old, sure, but still chock full of Cuban-tobacco goodness. "Garbage? I've won the slayer-saving-bowl-thing, and I've won back our baby! Garbage, you say? Beast! No wonder I haven't had children with you before now!" He grinned at Angel, blowing cigar smoke in his face. "Hand over the belt, Peaches. I can get a tire for it." This was so much better than pacing. Bleathvore 3: "Your mate is causing you discomfort?" "Oh, yeah. A real pain, he is." Bleathvore 2: "It is unacceptable to us that he bother you so. You are most good and entertaining. We will happily cut off his head if you wish. You can find another mate, I am certain. You should not be bothered." Bleathvore 5: "What of the child it carries?" Bleathvore 3: "What of it? We have lost it and the shinny headed, good one refuses to wager it again and it is only him that we like." Bleathvore 5: "This is true. What say you vampire? Shall we cut off its head?" Spike took a deep drag from his cigar, rolling the rich smoke in his mouth. "I like you boys! Let's just wait and see what happens. No hurry." He smiled and patted Angel on the head. "I might want to keep him." Spike blew smoke rings towards a scowling Angel. 13 I Don't Hear What I Know. Or Angel Gets Frisky "Oh, well, yuck! Yuck! What did I just land on? No! Don't tell me! I'm sure I don't want to know." Cordelia said as she placed her foot from the last ladder rung and to the floor. The floor that just went squish beneath her foot. "You've offed a rat, is all, Cordy." Xander told her, his hands at her waist, as he helped her from the ladder. "I said don't tell me!" She yelped, wiping her foot against the ladder rung and batting his hands away. "We so better find Angel!" She mumbled. She looked around. "Oh, my god! This is just beyond yuck!" She shuddered once she took a good look around. The walls were slimy and wet and dripping with. . .something; she had no idea what. The smell was indescribable. And the very air was heavy with the stench and feel of the place. Cordelia began to gag. Danielle crossed to her and placed an arm across her shoulders. Cordelia stiffened. Danielle smiled at her. "These sewer's aren't so bad, really, girl. I've been in worse. I'll help keep you safe." "To have as dinner later on, I'm sure." Cordelia mumbled beneath her breath, pulling away. Danielle grinned at her. "Nope." She laughed. "I grew up on a farm when I was human. My dad was forever serving my animal friends up for dinner, so now, once I talk to someone or something, I just can't eat it." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "So, while I hold no particular fondness for humans, I just can't eat anyone I've, well, gotten to know." Cordelia turned to the vampire and thrust her hand out, flashing a big smile at her. "Hi! I'm Cordelia! Pleased to meet you! Have you been a vampire for long?" Danielle laughed and took her hand, shaking it. "I've already taken you guys off my dinner list. I'm just here for the fun, really. Killer and the cute one caught my eye." She told her, nodding her head towards Xander and Wesley. She winked at Cordelia. "And it's always good to know Bleathvores. They really do have the best stuff, sometimes." Cordelia looked at the cloak-covered creature. "Really?" She asked doubtfully. "Yes. I got a full length Armani leather coat for a bottle of scotch just last week." Cordelia's eyes bugged a bit. "Yep. And an Anne Klien suit for a gun." "Really? So what? They're like crack-heads?" "Yep. Only you don't have to worry about them coming back to rob you." "Cool." "Come. We must walk, now." Bleathvore 1 told the group. He flashed his teeth. "I am soon to win the challenge. This is a good time. Let us all be pleased for my good fortune." Xander looked at Danielle. "He said let's get moving and be happy. He's going to win something." Xander nodded. "Fine. Whatever." He motioned for the Bleathvore to lead the way. Xander pulled the Glock out and held it. He really liked the little automatic weapon. 1 looked to Danielle. "Tell him not to send any projectiles my way. It would upset me greatly." "Shoot him and he's gonna get pissed. Don't shoot." "Yeah, yeah. Tell him I won't shoot." Danielle did and the Bleathvore moved ahead of the group, leading the way. "Anyway, Killer, if you shoot them, they just spray out acid like slime. I don't know how you kill a Bleathvore, but shooting it won't work." "What did you tell the human, vampire?" "I told that you can not be killed by their weapons. How can you be killed?" Bleathvore 1 laughed. "We are not killed. We die. When it is time." Danielle didn't know how to respond. Her dealings with Bleathvores revolved around buying and selling and trading. She'd never gotten personal with any before now. "That is a good thing." She offered. It was the best she could do. "Yes. It is very nice. We like it. Know many of us, do you?" "I have had many dealings with the Ta'karta clan." Bleathvore 1 threw up several tentacles, flinging slime. "Liars and cheats! You have been foolish in your dealings. But you are a vampire and not expected to know any better. I am of the Le'tish clan. We are good, honest, and most entertaining. The Ta'karta clan are bores, cheats and liars." "They say the same of your clan." Bleathvore 1 laughed. "See? They lie." "What are you two saying?" Xander asked. "Nothing. Just a bit of clan hate going on." "Ask him how much further." Xander told her. "Do we have much longer to walk?" "Why is this of concern? Will they not journey to the end?" Bleathvore 1 stopped. He would not continue if the humans were going to stop. "Why'd he stop?" Xander's finger tightened on the trigger of his gun. He was really starting to love the Glock. He'd already decided to keep it. The weight of it in his hand felt good, and he loved the way the trigger felt all cool and smooth against his finger. He ran his finger along the curve of the trigger. Damn, but he wanted to shoot something. "No, no. The question confused him. He won't keep going if you're thinking about quitting. But you're not, right? I mean, if you have to walk a mile or more you'll keep walking, right?" "Yes." Cordelia, Wesley and Xander all answered without hesitation. "They will go to the end. Time was the question. How much time will pass before they reach the wares. They worry about the safety of their vampires is all." Danielle told Bleathvore 1. Satisfied, 1 began to walk again. "As they should be. The shinny-headed one bit one of us. If they continue to be nasty they will have their heads cut off. It is our way. But it is of no matter. I have produced buyers. I will win, be the vampires headless or not." "It's all good." Danielle told the others. Cordelia rubbed her hand over her leather-clad arm. "You know, I'm really starting to love this coat. How much do you suppose it'd cost to get it altered to fit me?" "We're trading the coats for Angel and Spike, Cordielia." Wesley reminded her. "Oh, right." She frowned, walking in silence. Her face brightened. "But Angel has lots more coats, huh?" ". . . not only do I know of it, I composed it!" Spike finished the joke. All Bleathvores: Laughter. Bleathvore 3: "Truly amusing. I will keep you, vampire, should my brother fail to find a buyer or trade for you. Your mate, however, is boring. Him I will have to kill." Spike puffed at his cigar and looked at his cards. "Yes. I am displeased to agree, but kill him if you must." "Spike?" Angel asked. He was leaning against the make-shift back rest, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest. And the boredom was getting to him. Killing him. Him. Angel had always prided himself on his ability to be calm. Just be. But with Spike and the Bleathvores having so much fucking fun while he dozed and lay about on the stinking rot of the floor, the boredom was eating away at him. No wonder Spike wanted to always be killing and moving. This sucked. "What?" "What are you saying to them?" "Just agreeing with them, mate. Keeping them happy. Oh, and, if they don't find a buyer? I get saved. You? They don't like you, Sire. You're a gonner, Peaches. It'll be heads off for you, luv." "What of my baby?" Angel rubbed his flat belly. "Ha ha. Still sucking at the funny bone, eh? Nice try, mate. But they don't know what yer saying. You are gonna have to die." Spike snickered, not overly concerned with his Sire's potential headlessness. He lay down two cards, motioning for replacements. He has a possible flush. Angel moved closer to Spike and licked his ear. Spike slapped at him, ducking his head. "Stop that! I'm busy." Angel moves his mouth to Spike's neck, licking and sucking and biting. "What is it with you? You've turned into a bloody rapist! You know what the problem is don't you?" Angel moves his head into Spike's lap and reaches his hand up to begin undoing the buttons of Spike's shirt. "What's my problem, boy?" He smiles up at this childe, enjoying the annoyed look on his face. "Celibacy! It's not right! Curse, yes, and all that! Problem is you can still fuck! You need to fuck the ex-watcher and the cheerleader! Bet those two could get you off!" Bleathvore 5: "You and your mate are going to engage in sexual intercourse, now? Breeding? We do not mind. We will watch." Spike slapped at Angel's hand. "No we are not. My mate is mentally unbalanced. Slow." Spike tells them. He pinches Angel's cheek. Hard. "Cut it out!" Bleathvore 2: "This is terrible for you! He is not balanced and he causes you great discomfort. It is better that we cut off his head. We have a weapon that will take is head off with one blow. It is wonderful. Very good. You may use it." Angel is nuzzling at Spike's groin now. And Spike is, of course, getting hard. And that pisses him off. "One blow you say?" Angel is pulling down his zipper with his teeth now. His fucking cock is hard as a rock and looking forward to whatever it is Angel has planned for it. Spike smiles at the Bleathvores. "Why don't you bring it to me? The weapon." Bleathvore 3: "We would like to see you mate once again. It was most entertaining. Scary and good. We like that. Mate once more before your mate is killed. For us?" Angel has his cock out and is licking at it. Fine. "Yes. One more mating and then we kill him." Bleathvore 2: "This is good and acc-" And then the Bleathvores are gone. Vanished. Spike can't see them anymore. He pushes Angel's head away from his cock. "Where'd the fuck they go?" He sits up on his knees, zipping his pants up, looking around. No Bleathvores. "Guys?" His hand grabs a bar. ZAP! "Fuck! Shit! Come on guys. This shit isn't funny! Where'd ya run off too?" Angel sits up and listens. "Shh. Listen." "Like bloody fucking great big cockroaches running off when a light comes on. "Yes. Don't you hear it? Something is coming." "Yeah. I hear it. Something is coming and these blokes have left me here. And they didn't even cut off your head, first. Bastards." "Spike?" "What?" "You were going to let them cut off my head?" "Hell, yes, I was, Sire! I was bloody well looking forward to it! Punks! Poufs!" 14 Is That a Gun or Are You Just Happy to See Me? Bleathvore 1 twitters his tentacles; they fill, expand and ooze. "We are close to my brothers." His teeth flash, and he speeds up a bit. "Almost there." Danielle tells the others. Wesley has moved to walk beside Danielle. Xander is right behind the Bleathvore; finger tight on the trigger of his gun, while Cordelia has her hand tucked into the back of Wesley's tight leather pants. She's been staring at the back of his head and singing songs in her head. She doesn't want to look around or down. Ever again. The few times she's looked down, she's seen rats,-big-movie-type-rats-, running along and over her feet. They turn a corner and there they are. Spike and Angel. Angel and Spike. Caged yes, but whole and there and Xander is so pleased he moves forward and grabs at the bars of the cage. Spike's "Don't touch the bars, pet." Is too late. Xander grabs hold and is zapped across the tunnel, hands burnt and smoking. "Luv?" Spike asks. "Okay? The bars are electrocuted, pet. Don't touch." Xander picks himself up and laughs, looking at his burnt hands. "Yeah. Don't fucking touch the bars, cause, fucking 'ouch', that shit hurts." And Xander smiles despite the pain of burnt hands. Spike is here. And fine. And it's Spike. And isn't that all he wanted? "Angel!" Cordy runs to the cage and stops short, having seen Xander's fate. "Are you okay? You look fine. You look good." She crosses her arms across her chest and steps back, regarding him. "You look just fine really." She tells him accusingly. "I stepped on a rat for you. And I went into a demon bar for you! And Xander shot vampires, and even a human for you, and you don't look hurt at all! Dirty and smelly, yes, but not hurt. You should at least be-well-bruised, dammit! Are you even a little bit hurt?" Xander moved closer to the cage, reaching his hand between the bars to touch Spike's cheek. He looks at Danielle. "Tell him I want Spike out of this cage." "They were about to cut off my head." Angel tells Cordelia trying to placate her. "Really? Then I, like, saved you, huh?" "It would see-" Bleathvore 1 raises all tentacles, except the ones he's standing on, over his head and calls out. "Come forth brothers. I have won the challenge. I have found buyers. And they are humans. And a vampire. A good vampire." He smiles at Danielle. Teeth oozing. Danielle grins back. And before Spike's eyes the Bleathvores return. Out of nowhere. Gone one minute and there the next. "God damn it. And fuck it all. All! You bloody shits! And just where the hell did you all go?" Spike demands of the now visible Bleathvores. Bleathvore 5 smiles at Spike. "What are you speaking so loudly about?" Oh. Right. He'd been yelling in English. "You ran off and left. Why?" He asked, speaking their language. His anger mostly spent, his voice was quiet. He did manage to glare at Bleathvore 5. Flashing several rows of teeth, Bleathvore 5 reaches a tentacle between the bars and pats Spike on the head, leaving a puddle of slime on his head. "Living is important to us, vampire." He flaps his tentacles. "We hide until we know what we face. Do you not hide?" "Yeah. Sure. Let me out of this fucking cage! I've been bought!" Spike looks at Xander and smiles. "Is it true, pet? Did you shoot vampires and people?" "Yeah. I shot stuff." Xander smiles a bit bashfully at Spike. "Yum, pet. Xander, and I missed it? Still trying to keep me from having fun, damn you! That is just so-" Bleathvore 3 pokes at Spike. "Get me out of this fucking cage!" Spike yells at the Bleathvore. Bleathvore 3 is unconcerned with Spike's display of rage. He is, after all is said and done, still caged. Bleathvore 1 walks to 5 and twitters. "Ha! I have found buyers! You lose! I have obtained tasty and good mind altering beverages for us and we will receive the skins the new humans wear. I have made a good deal. Say it is so." Bleathvore 5 smiles. "It is true that you have made a good deal for two vampires, but we have three vampires!" Bleathvore 1 looks at the cage. And into it. Closely. He snorts. "You have been into the mind altering beverages we have stored, I think. Or you are as stupid as your mother-in-law has stated you are. There are two vampires." He points at Spike and then at Angel. "One vampire. Two vampire. No more vampire." All bleathvores except 5: Laughter. "Yes. You are amusing, just as your mother-in-law says you are not. The dark-haired one is with child. So we must declare the challenge null and void." Bleathvore 1 wraps several tentacles around Bleathvore 5 and squeezes. "Vampires do not breed, fool. They do not. You have said so yourself!" Bleathvore 1 turns his head to look at Danielle. "You! Vampire! Do you breed?" "Um, no?" She looks at Spike. "Um, we females don't, but the males? Oh, sure. They breed. Yeah. Like, uh, bunny rabbits. The males breed like crazy." Bleathvore 1 lets his tentacles fall. "Well. Fine. We will consider our deal null and void. I do not gain what I would have wished from you, but I am still pleased. You will not lay tentacles upon my mate, nor my daughter. And still I have obtained a good deal. This is pleasing to me." "What the fuck are they saying?" Xander demands. "Um. Well. Everything seems to be fine. The deal, however is sorta off, seeing as how the 'dark-haired' one is, uh, pregnant and the deal was only for two vampires, and not, um, two plus one." "Huh?" Xander, Wesley, and Cordelia all ask. "Well, like I just told you-" Danielle begins. Spike cuts her off. "Peaches is knocked up. The deal will stand between you and them but not them and them, so give 'em whatever it is you promised and get ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING CAGE!" Danielle smiled. "Yeah. It's like what he said." "Whatever." Xander takes off Angel's coat and hands it to Bleathvore 1. "Tell him to open the cage." Danielle does. Bleathvore 1 takes the coat and smiles at Xander. And then he smiles at Danielle. "No." Danielle blinks. "What?" Bleathvore 1: "No." Pissed off, even though it's not really her battle, Danielle rages. "And just why is it no?" She lets loose a string of her, admittedly, limited amount of Bleathvore expletives. "We kept our part of the deal! What are you trying to do?" Limited they may be, but the Bleathvores are impressed by her string of curses. Spike, doubly so. "Where'd ya pick her up, pet?" Spike asks Xander. "Bar." Xander tells him. Spike nods. "Best place to get women, Xanpet. Good pick, luv." Bleathvore 1: "Calm down and rest your vocal cords, vampire. The deal is set and good. The vampires are free. I wish only to have the rest of the skins." "Oh. Okay." Danielle smiles and fans her face with her hand. "My! I didn't even know I knew all those bad words." She tells Bleathvore 1. "It is, no doubt, the cause of the Ta'karta clan. Bores, liars, cheats and filthy mouthed also. You are not to be blamed." "Of course, I'm not. I never am." Spike and all the Bleathvores laugh. "I'm getting so tired of not knowing what's going on!" Xander yells out. "I'm going to start shooting again." "Shoot Angel, pet. Go on. It won't hurt him much, and if it makes you feel better? Do it." Xander giggles and it makes him feel better. Less like shooting. "Just give them the coats." Danielle tells the group. Bleathvore 3 has already made off with the case of 'mind altering and tasty beverages.' Cordelia strips off her coat, unwillingly really, carefully removing her weapons. Angel watches, wide-eyed, as she begins to store weapons in various and unlikely places on her body. Wesley does the same thing. Angel takes a close look at Xander and notes that he, too, has guns and knives shoved in his clothes. Spike notes Angel's goggle-eyed look. "What? You don't think my Xander knows how to go to war? He can prepare the troops, mate. He's got all kinds of nasty secrets." The coats are handed over without fanfare. All Bleathvores bow. Bleathvore 5 speaks: "We have had a good and entertaining time with the shiny-headed vampire. We would take him with us. Will you journey with us?" "No. I must stay. They would surely die without my guidance." Danielle translates and the others laugh. Spike gives Danielle a dirty look and she stops her translation. No need to die over it, she thinks to herself. Bleathvore 5: "Most surely they would. We are saddened by your unwillingness to join our journey, but so what? We will get over it, yes? Yes. And you have won many treasures from us. And lost many treasures. This marks a good time. So be it. We will take the skins and beverages and leave you with what you have won and with your lives, also won. And because we like you so, we will leave you with our weapon, so that you may kill the dull one. As you see fit. We ask only that you wait until after the child is born. It may be a child of great worth. Worry not that its host is dull. The child may glow bright." Spike smiled. "Yes." He nodded his head at Angel. "He may be dull as yesterday's cleaning water, but his children are usually bright as sunshine." And the Bleathvores leave. Without turning off the cage. "God damn it! Come back here!" Spike snarls. Cordelia walks around the cage. When she comes to a rug, she kicks it over. "What's this?" she asks, leaning down to pull out a cord attached to the cage. The edge of the cage. The very accessible edge of the cage. She reaches a confident hand to the bars and grabs one. Nothing happens. No shock. No zap. She grins, wagging the cord in her hand. "You guys suck! Some vampires you are! I stepped on a rat for you guys! I shot vampires for you guys! I let that coat I wanted go for you guys!" Spike and Angel both reach out and grab the cage bars. They duck and turn the cage over them. They are free. Just that easy. They look at each other. They look at Cordelia, twirling the cord around. "That was not the cord." They both state. But it didn't matter, really. They were free of the cage. Xander grabs hold of Spike and pulls him close, kissing him. Spike pulls back with a grin. "Is that a gun in your pants, pet, or are you just happy to see me?" Xander kept his body close to Spike's and held out his hand, still holding his newly beloved Glock. He grinned at Spike. "Here's my gun, Spike. I must just be happy to see you." "Eww." Was Cordiela's contribution to the romantic moment. Search: The Web Tripod Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » Select Rating share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Chapters 1 It's An Adventure 2 That's Why They Have Those Numbers 3 And All In One Piece 4 Angel 'Whats' Me? 5 TV's and Happy Places 6 Internet? We Need 'Books'. And a Room 7 Put To Bed Naked? 'Stay' Naked 8 My What Big Rats You Have 9 And They Dont Even 'Mate'. 10 Better Than Bored 11 Spike Loses Angel's Lower Limb 12 Bargining for Vampires. 13 I Don't Hear What I Know. 14 Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me? 15 Spike, or the Shiny Headed Santa Clause 16 And the bullet in my ass? 17 Removing coats and bullets 18 Is that an oar or are you just happy to see me? 19 Are We There Yet? 20 Don't Forget the Sign 21 Home Safe and Sound and Presents Too! It's An Adventure by Michelle 15 Spike, or the Shiny Headed Santa Clause "Well, yes. I'm pleased that everyone is safe and sound, but did you obtain it?" Wesley asked. "What?" Spike asked, squeezing Xander's ass and sucking at his neck. Wesley bent to tuck a hunting knife into his boot. "What you two came for." "Angel didn't get anything." Spike snickered. He pulled away from Xander and went to his pile of goodies. "Me? I got all kinds of good stuff. The slayer-saving-bowl among them." He looked through his pile. "Hey! Where's me bowl?" Angel gave a low laugh, holding up the coat-covered bowl. "I have it. And I wouldn't say I didn't get anything, boy. I got your a-" "Marvelous! You have the bowl." Spike said, cutting Angel off. The pouf. The nonce. The effin fuck-n-tell bastard. Spike began rummaging through his pile again, throwing items about with unnecessary force. If Angel mentioned the screwing he'd just deny it. Xander wouldn't believe Angel. Spike laughed a little beneath his breath. He'd just tell Xander Angel was trying to make him jealous. He looked over at Xander and smiled. Xander smiled at him in return. Oh, yeah. He was fine. "Good. Can we get out of here now? I don't wa-Ooo, what's that, Spike?" Cordelia asked, her eyes on a velvet pouch Spike had picked up. "This?" Spike grinned at her, swinging the small bag from his hand. "This is a sack-full-o-diamonds." Cordelia's eye's widened and she stepped closer. "Can I see?" "Sure, pet." Spike grinned and opened the pouch onto his open hand. Sparkles fell out. Lots and lots of them. Cordy gasped out loud and stepped even closer. She kept her eyes on Spike's diamond filled hand. "Can I have some? Please?" She asked, seemingly entranced by the diamonds. In fact, everyone had moved in closer to Spike and his handful of sparkles. "Sure, pet." He held out his hand towards her. Cordelia reached out. . . . . .And Spike closed his hand and snatched it away. "Nope." Spike laughed. "I'm just fucking with you, pet. I'm not gonna share diamonds. Are you daft?" Cordelia's head shot up. She was abruptly snapped from her diamond-induced-trance. "You jerk!" "When did you win those?" Angel demanded. "When you were napping, peaches. I won all kinds of goodies." He pulled a cigar box from the pile and opened it, holding it out to Cordy. "Cigar, pet? It's the good stuff. Cuban." "No thank you. I would, however, like a diamond. She stamped her foot. "Or more." "I'll take one of those." Danielle spoke. "I wouldn't mind one, either." Wesley said, stepping to Spike. Spike passed out cigars. Even Angel took one. Danielle pulled her Zippo out and lit the smokers up. "What else, besides diamonds, tires and my shoes, did you win?" Angel asked, puffing. "Lost yer shoes, Sire." He pulled a pair of bright red Converse high tops, circa 1980, from his pile and tossed them at Angel. "Here, put these on." Angel looked at the shoes with disdain and then at the floor. He put on the too big sneakers. "Got this." Spike was on his knees rummaging. "My Wat-the slayer's Watcher will like this." He held up a leather-bound book and set it aside. "Oh, and this." Another book. "I'll give this to the witches. It's a book of love spells. This'll make Giles' piss his pants." Spike snickered and tossed away a handful of wigs. "Now this. This is pretty. You can have this, pet." He tossed a two shot, pearl-handled derringer pistol at Xander. "Can't have my diamonds, but this'll do you, Cordelia." Spike tossed a strand of pearls at her. Cordy caught them with a squeal of joy. Spike tossed a piece of garden hose away, and then another, larger piece of garden hose away. Some baby clothes followed. And some IV tubing. He came up with a pair of alligator pants and was about to toss those when he looked over his shoulder at Danielle. "Think you can fit these?" Danielle stepped forward and took the pants. "Jesus. These are real alligator skin!" She mumbled, looking at the tag. "A size too small. Hell yes, I can fit these! You're like, fucking Santa Clause, Shiny Headed One." "Here, this is for you." Spike handed Wesley a heavy leather bound book. "This is. . .this is the complete works of the Feliand Oracles." He whispered reverently taking the large book. "This is, Spike, this is-" "What? Can I get money for that?" Spike demanded. "Ye-um. No, not really. You'd never be able to find a buyer. And, I dare say, you'd mostly likely be unable to read it. It's best that you give it me." He ran his hand over the binding. He looked at Spike, and smiled. "Thank you, Spike." Spike raised a brow and turned back to his pile. "Me, me, me." He placed items in a pile next to him. "This for me, too. More for me. Garbage. Me. Angel." Spike tossed a copy of the Karma Sutra at his Sire. "Garbage. Garbage. Xander." He tossed a Colt six-shot pistol encased in a leather holster at Xander. He pulled out a large leather case. "What the fuck?" He opened it. Silverware. A complete set. "Oh, right. Joyce. What's this, then?" Spike pulled a garment out and handed it to Cordelia. "A never been worn original I was assured." He told her as he kept rummaging through his pile. Cordelia unzipped the bag and took a look inside at the perfect little black dress. "Oh, my god!" "Naw, just me, pet. Spike." Spike muttered, not looking up. "This is a Karan original. Spike! You-evil-soulless-Angel-trying to-kill-Xander-boffing-sweety! I love you now. I do. I have to go out now. I have to wear this dress and my pearls. I must." Danielle looked at the dress Cordelia was holding in front of her. "Very nice. I told you Bleathvores have some really nice things." "Wanna John Tesh CD?" Spike asked, from his pile. "Along with a lot of trash." She continued, taking the CD and tossing it over her shoulder. "Hey! Angel might have wanted that." "If so you should go ahead and kill him." Spike sat up on his knees. "Yeah. Kill him." He looked around. "Anyone see an Angel-killing thing around? I was promised one." Xander looked up from tying his gun holster to his leg. He tried a quick-draw, grinning. He did a passable gun twirl and replaced the Colt in the holster. He thumbed back an imaginary hat. "I'll have a look around, folks." Xander walked into one of the side tunnels. "I'm sure we don't need an Angel killing machine." Angel said. Cordelia looked up from her dress. "That's only 'cause you're Angel. Maybe it's a really cool thing. Like my pearls." FUMP! "Cool." Came Xander's voice. "I think I found it." The others walked to the side tunnel. Xander stood next to a guillotine. "Nice, huh? Can we keep it?" "This is my 'kill him with one blow' weapon?" Spike asked, hands on his hips. "Does anyone have any idea how hard it is to get someone to place their heads into one 'o them things without an army backing them up?" Xander raised the blade again and let it drop. FUMP. "So, what? We can't keep it?" "If you can carry it, pet, you can keep it." "Can we go now? The sun will be up soon." Angel asked, rolling his eyes. "Sure." Spike said. "Yeah, lets go. Oh! Wait! I wanna take some o' those wigs back, you know, for the Slayer." 16 And the bullet in my ass? "You know, we might be able to sell that guillotine on E-Bay." Cordelia told the silent, cigar puffing, group. "Yeah!" Xander grinned, still twirling his six-shooter. He was working on his quick draw. "Or that antique show on the Sesame Street Channel. What's that called?" "You two are more than welcome to go back and drag it home." Angel told them, continuing to walk along in his too big bright red sneakers. "But, I am not waiting." Xander and Cordelia stopped, eyes bright and grinning at each other with shared greed. Spike grabbed Xander by his arm and pulled him forward. "No." "No?" Cordelia huffed. "Excuse me, but no? I don't see any rings on his fingers, Spike! Xander! Don't be a wimp! He can't tell you what to do!" "Share my diamonds with you, Xanpet." Spike offered, evilly, smirking at Cordelia. "Okay, then." He smiled at Cordelia. "I'm good." "Whore!" Cordelia snipped at Xander. "And I'm okay with that." Xander laughed. She looked at Danielle, pleading. "Sorry, hun. I do fine robbing my victims. You would not believe the amount of cash some people carry. It's obscene. Really. So, um, I don't really need any money from, uh, ebay. And, more importantly, I don't know these tunnels. I'd help you if I could, really I would." She puffed at her cigar, smiling at Cordy. "But I'd hate to be stuck down here with just you." She took Cordelia's hand and pulled her along. "Getting to know you is one thing. Being stuck down here with you and hungry? That's something else. I don't do hungry. I'd suck you dry in a heartbeat, babe." "Fine." Cordelia moved away from Danielle, pouting. "Everyone just ignore my wants and needs." Everyone did. Danielle checked her watch. "I hate to impose, but are you guys going to be able to put me up for the day?" Wesley spoke, turning to smile at Danielle. "Oh, yes, of course. You did help us, after all. The very least we could do is put you up for the day. We have plenty of rooms. You are most welcome to stay until the sun goes down." Spike snickered. "What would the counsel say about you, Wes ole chum? And you don't have plenty of room." "We do." He coughed. "Have rooms, that is. But just that, I'm afraid. Rooms, only. And not much else, I'm sorry to say." Danielle laughed. "Got rooms without direct sunlight? Got blankets?" "Yes. Plenty. Comforters, too." He smiled at her. "Then I'm pleased to accept and thankful for your offer." "I've already got dibs on and plans for your bed, not-a-watcher." Wesley sighed. "Pay no mind to that one. I really don't know why Angel didn't stake him while they were down here." Danielle laughed. "What? The shiny headed one? But he can't be all bad, Wesley. The Bleathvores loved him! It takes a special type of, um, thing, for Bleathvores to love you. They are very particular about people, places and things, you know." "We were busy fucking and trying to keep our heads attached to our shoulders. Oh. And gambling. We were busy gambling, huh, Spike? That's why I didn't stake him, Wes." Angel muttered from the front. The tunnel got very quiet. "No, Sire." Spike said. "I was busy gambling. You were *sleeping*, ya bloody toff!" "What's that you said, Angel?" Cordelia asked. "Did you say fuck? 'Cause it sounded like fuck. You can not fuck! Hello! No sex! Are you Angelus? I am so loaded down with vamp killing weapons, if you are!" Cordy aimed her supersoaker at Angel's back. Angel didn't stop walking. "I said 'fuck'. Doesn't mean anything. I'm not Angelus, Cordy." "So, just what does it mean, Angel?" Xander asked. He didn't move away from Spike. In fact, he stepped closer to the blond vampire. "It doesn't mean-" Spike began. Xander cut him off. "I was talking to the BatVamp, Spike. I'm just curious. Wondering, if you will. Who did you fuck, Angel? Did you fuck Spike?" Angel just kept walking. "Almost there." "Pet, don't worry about what he said." Spike said, holding Xander back and indicating Angel with a tilt of his head. "He is my Sire, after all, and you can't-" "Spike." Xander began. "I'm okay. I'm not mad at you." Spike was quiet as they started to walk again. But he was thinking. 'Not mad at you.' What the fuck did that mean? "Now, wait a minute, pet. I don't give a fuck if yer mad or not. I can fuck who ever I want! Any time I want! I can give it up to me Sire if I chose to, and you be bloody damned!" "But did you want to fuck Angel?" Xander asked. Reason, personified. Xander even smiled at Spike. And just what kind of mind-fucking thing is this? Spike wondered. The boy could fight dirty, it seemed. "Doesn't matter if I-" "Well, then." Xander cut him off. "You won't be too mad if I do this." Xander pulled his six-shooter out and shot Angel in the ass. "Ow! What the-!" Angel stopped and grabbed his ass. "What hel hell was that?" "Nope. I won't be mad at all." Spike grinned. "In fact. I'm okay with it." He snickered, mimicking Xander's earlier statement. "You can do it again, if you want, pet." "Xander shot you in your ass, Angel." Cordeila told him. "He's been shooting a lot lately. I still think he needs some type of therapy." "Nope. The shooting is the therapy, Cordy." "Oh. Well. That's good, then. You've managed to get in a lot of therapy this evening, Xan." "You'll want to get that bullet out pretty quick, Dark One." Danielle offered. "No telling how old it is. Plus, it could go septic. Bad news for vampires. Nasty. Be a shame to loose your, um, cheek." "Dammit Xander! You shot me?" Angel turned and grabbed Xander's shoulder. Spike growled and Angel growled back, pushing the smaller vampire away. "Dammit Angel! You fucked Spike?" Xander stood toe to toe, face to face with the dark haired vampire. And he was pissed. "Yes I did! I fucked him! I can do that! He's my childe! He's a vampire. You need to know that!" Xander crossed his arms across his chest. "Hum. Let me get this straight. Call me slow. You fucked my vampire so I would know my vampire was a vampire. Is that your story, Deadboy?" "He's my vampire!" Angel roared. "And he's a vampire!" "I am my own effin vam-" Spike began. Xander and Angel turned to yell at him. "Shut up, Spike!" "This is like a heavy domestic-type squabble kind of thing, isn't it?" Danielle whispered into Wesley's ear. "Should we be here?" She looked at the angry threesome and shuddered. "Well. We might be needed to stop further blood shed. And it is a bit fascinating don't you think? I've never seen Angel like this. Maybe he is-" "No! I don't! Not fascinating at all! It reminds me of my parents fighting when I was still human. I have issues with this type of violence, I'll admit. Stalking, killing, torturing, rendering limb from limb, I'm okay with that stuff, but domestic violence? No. I can't hang. Must kill all parties involved. What say we stake the vamps and off Killer? Better for them all." "No! Of course we can't!" Wesley patted Danielle's shoulder. "They'll be fine." "Okay. Then can we go?" "I'm with the vamp." Cordelia told Wesley. "You can get us out of here, can't you? You know the way home, huh, Wes?" "Well, yes. We are almost home." He looked around. "I can get us home from here." Danielle and Cordelia both grabbed one of Wesley's arms and moved forward. "Let's let them fight it out, Wes. I'm sleepy. And I wanna raid Angel's closet for another coat. One to go with my dress." Cordy told him with a smile. Wesley laughed. "You know, I'm sure you could persuade Angel to buy you a leather coat." "Yes. But stealing one from him would be more fun." Danielle smiled as they walked away. "And, you can take your bedroom! You know, the one the Shiny Headed one wanted. Maybe I can persuade you to share." She gave Wesley a wink. "Promise not to steal covers or bite." "Yuck! Stop! Way too much sex going on!" Cordy laughed as they continued on their way. ". . .your business!" Xander finished. "I'd say it was. You don't seem to know what you're doing! Spike is a merciless killer! A demon." "And what? You just can't help but fuck merciless, killing, demons, Angel?" Angel threw his hands in the air. "No! I can't! Not if they are mine, that is!" "Well, newsflash Deadboy: He's mine now!" Spike turned and watched as Wesley, Cordelia, and the bar-vamp walked away. Arm in arm. Happy. They really looked like they were having a good time. He wanted to go with them. But he couldn't. He had to stay and. . . and what? Xander knew that he and Angel had shagged. Xander was upset with Angel for fucking him, not with Spike for getting fucked. It was doubtful that Xander would start talking about Angel's so-called lust for him. And did he really want to stick around for a XANDER slash ANGEL showdown? Okay. Well, sure. Maybe that would be fun. But he had all of this stuff to get back. And to go through, again. Nope. He didn't want to stay. "Hey! Not a Watcher! Cordelia! Bar-vamp!" "What?" Cordy snipped back. "Wait up!" Spike ran after the threesome, towing his large bag of goodies. He threw his arm across Cordelia's shoulders. "Let's just let those two fight over me. The rest of us can get some sleep." "Shouldn't you be there to congratulate the winner, Shiny Headed One?" Spike snickered. "Naw. I need time to come up with stories for all the possible outcomes any way. I'm the winner, no matter what." "How does that work out, Spike?" Wesley asked. "In your twisted mind, that is." "Well, someone is gonna be mad enough to fuck me." He waggled his eyebrows at the other three. "Maybe they'll get together and fuck me! 'Cause I'm such a bad boy!" Cordy snorted. "Okay. Yuck. Let us not speak of this again. And especially not if they do both fuck you!" "So why'd you do it, Angel?" Xander asked, as he dumped the empty shell from his gun and closed the chamber. "Why'd you fuck Spike?" Angel stepped closer to Xander but stopped when Xander raised his gun and pointed it at him. "That won't kill me you know." "Yeah. I know, but call me childish along with slow, it'll hurt you, and I'll get a big ole kick outta that!" He cocked the ancient weapon, grinning at Angel. "So why? You knew we were together." So okay, sure. The together thing had started off as an act, but, Angel didn't know that and it pissed Xander off. First Buffy and now Spike. Did the great dark vampire have to fuck every one he wanted? His finger tightened on the trigger. He really wanted to blast another whole in Angel. "Xander." Angel began, nice and calm. "Why?" "Xander. Spike is a demon. The chip is one thing, but he's still a vampire . . ." "Um, yeah. I know that. I've spent time with Spike lately, you haven't." Xander reminded him. "No, I haven't. Not since he tried to torture me." Xander laughed. "That is not something I'd fault him with, Deadboy!" Angel threw up his hands. "Well fine. I tried to help you! Tried to talk some sense into you! I don't want Buffy to blame-" "Ha! Buffy! This is about Buffy for you isn't it? You don't want Buffy upset with you if Spike kills me while we're here under your protection!" "Of course I don't want Spike to kill you!" Xander pointed at him. "See! Ha!" "Buffy or no Buffy! I wouldn't want Spike to kill you! Dammit Xander! I like you! Can't I just like you?" "Um. I donno. Can you just like me?" Angel ran one hand through his hair and the other down his face. "Yes. I can. I can just like you. You're a funny guy, Xander. You have incredibly bad taste in vampire lovers, but you're still a nice guy. I never wanted to be your enemy. That was your call." "That's cause you got the girl I wanted!" Angel chuckled. "Well, I don't have her anymore." "Yeah, well, you fucked my vampire! Let's not forget about that!" Angel sighed. "Can't we? That was just a reaction to a hostile environment and the situation. Plus, Spike needed calming down. Not many things calm him down. Sex works. Sometimes, at least." Xander began moving along the tunnel. "So, what? Are you saying my Spike ain't worth fucking without a situation being involved?" Angel sighed. "No, I'm not saying that! Spike is-" "Um, Angel? I was joking." "Yes. I knew that." "No you didn't." "Yes I did. I was joking too!" "No you weren't." "Yes I was! I can tell a joke when I hear-" "Angel? Your shoe is untied." "Huh? Oh. No it's not!" "See? You can't tell a joke." "I take it all back. I don't like you, Xander. Never did." Xander laughed. "I didn't think you did." Xander looked around the empty tunnel. "And just where did everyone go? "Look's like they've left us." "Yeah. Looks like. Let's go." "Xander? Are we okay?" Xander shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. We're fine Angel. We've got the bowl and Spike and I will be able to go back home soon. He's figured out a way to turn me, despite the chip." Angel kept quiet as they walked for all of five seconds. "That was a joke, right? The turning comment?" Xander kept walking. "Xander? That was a joke right? You are not cra-" "Joke." "Oh. Okay. Just checking." "Angel?" "Yeah?" "Next joke you don't get?" "Yeah?" "I'm gonna shoot you." They reached the tunnel leading to Angel's warehouse. Angel paused to look at Xander. "All weapons must be surrendered at the door. Oh, and the bullet in my ass?" "Yeah?" "You're going to get it out." "Yeah. That's going to happen." Xander snickered. "Hey! That was a joke wasn't it?" Angel didn't speak as he made his way home. "Angel? Deadboy? That was a joke, right? Funny haha? Angel? am not digging around in your ass! Angel?" 17 Removing coats and bullets Xander followed Angel up and into the warehouse. All was quiet. Xander continued to follow Angel as he wound his way through a multitude of twists and turns. The twists looked the same as the turns and the turns looked the same as the twists. The hallways all looked alike. He hoped to hell, he wasn't going to have to find his way out of this maze by himself anytime soon. Finally they reached a hallway where Xander was able to hear the voices of the others. "Um. . .no. Try the maroon on, again, pet. I loved that one on you." That was Spike. Xander grinned and Angel speeded up a bit. They soon came to what, Xander assumed, was Angel's bedroom. Angel made no move to go inside, so Xander stood next to him, looking inside. A closet was wide open and an assortment of leather coats was thrown across the large bed. Spike, Wesley, and Danielle sat on the floor, their backs against the wall, while Cordelia stood before them in one of Angel's coats and the perfect little black dress Spike had won from the Bleathvores. Too much black, Xander thought. "But I like this one!" "Pet! No! It's not for you. Not with that dress! Washes you out. Try the maroon on again, please? For Spike." Xander watched as Cordelia pouted at Spike before turning pleading eyes on Danielle. "It does wash you out with that dress, sweety. Try the maroon." "Wes?" "Well. I like the maroon better, also. Pass the pop corn, Spike." Cordelia stamped her foot and looked in the mirror. "Are you guys sure? I really like the black." Spike stuffed popcorn into his mouth, before passing the bowl to Wesley. "Just listen to yer elders and put on the bloody maroon!" Xander couldn't stop the grin as he watched Cordelia mutter to herself as she stripped off one of Angel's too big black leather coats and reach for a too big maroon leather coat. Angel's coat. He looked over at Angel. The vampire was not grinning. Xander's grin stretched. "Just what the hell is going on?" Angel thundered. Or so it seemed to Xander. Angel didn't so much raise his voice, as he raised it. He put a lot of sound into the question without actually yelling. Xander was impressed. His grin grew even wider and he bit back his laughter. Everyone in the room jumped; Wesley spilled popcorn, Spike grinned, his wonderfully obnoxious grin, Danielle looked guilty and Cordelia straightened her coat-Angel's coat-and looked at the new arrivals with her mouth open. "Um. . .I'm cold?" "Oh, um, Angel! Glad to see-" Wesley began. "Peaches!" Spike stood and grabbed the popcorn bowl from Wesley before walking to stand before Xander and Angel. He held the bowl to Angel. "Popcorn, peaches? No?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yerself." He turned his grin to Xander. "My sweet Xander." He kissed Xander's grin. "You two okay? We were worried about you, weren't we, guys?" "Oh! Yes!" "Of course! Is everything okay?" "Um. . .How's your ass, Dark One?" Xander let out his laughter. Angel scowled. Cordelia began hanging up coats. Wesley stood and looked at Angel. Xander noted that Wesley's left eye was twitching. Just a bit. "Angel. We were just. . .well, we were waiting for you and-" "And I got cold!" Cordelia put in. Xander felt Angel take in a deep unneeded breath next to him. "And you forgot where the thermostat was?" Cordelia cocked her head as if in thought. "Yes? I mean, no. But why run up the bill when I could just get a coat? Right? Thrifty of me, don't you think?" "And the rest of you?" Angel asked. "You guys are here in my room, rummaging through my closet, getting popcorn everywhere to . . . what?" Wesley took a stab at it: "To help her get a coat, of course. Why else?" "Oh, hell!" Spike moved from his place in front of Xander to stand before Angel. "The chit was nicking a coat from you-" "I was not!" ". . .and we were helping her pick out the best one. What of it?" Xander moved away from Spike and into the room. He was sure Angel was going to do something and he didn't want to get in the way. And he wanted to watch. Angel's hand reached out and grabbed Spike by the throat. Angel leaned his face close to Spike's. "I have a bullet in my ass." Spike grinned. "That you do. Want me to kiss it and make it better?" Angel's hand tightened around Spike's throat. "No. I do not. I want you to get the bullet out." Spike laughed. "I didn't shoot you in the ass, Peaches!" "Didn't you, boy?" "And what's that supposed to mean? I was with you when Xander discovered his affinity for shootin' holes into people. And vampires." Xander watched as Spike turned his head, as far as Angel's hold on it would allow, and grinned at him. He grinned back. "Let go of my neck, Sire, and we can talk about it." Angel squeezed real hard once more and let go with a little push. "Oh! Um." Danielle stood. "I am so sorry for intruding in on your. . . this is a family thing. And Wesley says it's not worth killing you guys over. . .but. . . well. " The bar vamp was clearly flustered. "I should go." She looked at Wesley and Cordelia, who had put on the maroon coat during the drama, and now stood next to Wesley. "We should go, really." "Yes." Cordelia grabbed Wesley and Danielle. "We should go. So we're going now. We'll let you, three, get on with the bullet removal project. We'll be in the other room. Not watching or listening to anything that might happen." She led the other three out the door and closed it behind them. Xander sat on the floor, his back against the bed and looked at the closet. "Jesus. No T.V., but you went out and bought, what? A million dollars worth of leather? You're pretty sick, Deadboy." "What? No. I had that in a storage--. Never mind!" Xander opened his mouth to spout something sarcastic but Angel moved forward, undoing his belt. "Now." He pulled the belt free and undid his pants. He kicked off the too big bright red sneakers and stepped out of his pants. He was naked. Waist down at least. "Spike!" Spike kept his gaze on Xander. Xander shivered beneath that look. And he grinned. "What's that, then, Sire?" Spike asked, walking to Xander. The blonde sat down next to Xander, facing the bed. Angel lay down on the bed and grabbed a pillow, shoving it under his chin. He grabbed another pillow and shoved it under his pelvis, raising his ass. "That's a disturbing sight." Xander whispered to Spike, turning away from Angel's naked, bleeding ass. Spike leaned in and kissed Xander. "Oh, it's not so bad, pet. Not often he does that." Xander moved his head forward, capturing Spike's mouth and kissing him deeply. "What are you two doing? Are you kissing? Stop it! Get this fucking bullet out of me right now! Right now! Or I'm going to suck you both dry! Dry! And then break your fucking necks!" Xander pulled back from a wet kiss with Spike and smiled at Angel. "Kay. Right." He kissed Spike's lips again. "Spike!" Angel snapped. "In my bathroom medicine cabinet there's a first aid kit. Get it. Cut this damn bullet out of me!" Spike leaned in and kissed Xander again. Xander puffed his lips up and took the kiss. He even opened his mouth and took in some Spike tongue, oblivious to Angel and his desire to kill him and Spike, both. "Xander? Spike? Get this fucking bullet out of me now! Or else!" Spike chuckled and stood up. He walked to the ensuite bathroom and began pawing through the medicine cabinet. Xander rose and sat on the bed, placing his ass next to Angel's head. "Don't worry, Deadboy, Spike's on his way to get the knife." Xander patted Angel's shoulder as he watched Spike paw through Angel's medicine cabinet. "So. Where's the bowl? I didn't see you stash it." Angel turned his head up at to look at Xander. "Bowl?" "Yeah. You know the one. The one we came for?" Angel blinked. "Yeah. The 'slayer saving bowl', as Spike so eloquently put it. It's nice and safe. I stashed it in the hall. Didn't you see me? You'll be able to take it and yourselves back home, safe and sound to Sunnydale." "Here we go!" Spike came out holding the largest first aid kit Xander had ever seen. He placed it on the bed and opened it up. "Oh, look, it even has a scalpel. Nice." Spike's hand went to a small brown bottle before abandoning it and going to a pure white one. He winked at Xander and opened it. "We don't want the hydrogen peroxide, we want the alcohol." "No! We want the hydro-Argh!" Spike tipped the alcohol over Angel's bullet puckered ass. Angel clenched his ass and fisted the bedspread. "You rotten son-of-a-" "Bitch, Sire? Son of a bitch? Is that what you were gonna call me, Sire? Angel hissed but said nothing. Spike held out his hand. "Scalpel!" Xander stood and came to stand next to Spike. He pulled out the disposable scalpel and removed the plastic covering. He slapped it into Spike's hand. "Scalpel!" Spike took it and regarded the ass before him. "Humm." "Humm?" Xander asked. "Humm? What hummm? What are you doing?" Angel demanded. "Hummm. I don't recall your ass being this wide, Sire. Has it always been this wide?" "Can vampires gain weight?" Xander asked. "Shut up!" Angel wiggled said wide ass. "Cut it out! And cut the bullet out! Now! Or I'm going to eat your liver." Spike chuckled. "Aw. I bet you say that to all the blokes you set yer naked ass before." "Now!" "Wait!" Xander interrupted. "Shouldn't we wash our hands?" "Smart thinking, pet. Hold your hands over his ass." Xander did. Spike poured alcohol over Xander's hands and Angel's ass. "Okay." Spike cut in deep across the small hole, opening the flesh. It widened and sort of spilled forth, along with a lot of blood. The bullet pushed up and into view. Xander got a little queasy but kept watching as Spike plucked the bullet out. He handed it to Xander. Xander didn't take it. Spike shoved it under Xander's nose. "Here, pet. Take it. Nice memento of our trip to the city of angels." "Can't I just get a coat like, Cordy?" Xander took the bullet. "Um, okay, yuck." He shoved the bullet into his pocket. "But I don't have enough yuck-mementos of our time here, do I? Your wigs don't really count, do they, Spike?" Spike poured more alcohol on Angel's ass. "Nope. The wigs are for the Slayer, pet. Don't be greedy. Gimmie that suture kit." Xander handed it to him. Spike sighed and poured more alcohol on Angel's ass. "Open it, pet, and thread the needle." "Oh! Right! Sure! I can do that." Xander opened up the kit and licked the thread before threading the needle. He looked up at Spike. "Guess I broke the, ah, sanitary seal, huh? My spit okay?" Spike leaned over and kissed him. He pulled back with a grin. "Your spit is just nummy, pet." "Stop that!" Angel yelled into his pillow. "Sew me up!" Spike jammed the needle into Angel's ass, none too gently. "Hold him together for me, pet." "No." Xander shook his head, looking into the flesh and blood spilling wound on Angel's ass. "I don't think I want to do that." "Damn it, Xan! The sooner we get him sewed up the sooner we can find a place to go and fuck! Now hold him closed, so's I can sew the pouf up!" "Well, you put it like that. . ." Xander took in a deep breath and held it. He placed his fingers on either side of the incision and pushed them together. "How's that?" "Push that pocket of fat in." "Really? Do I have to? Can't you sew around it?" "Push it in!" "When I break your necks? It's not going to be quick and clean. No. I'm going to start with the seventh vertebrae. The one down deep. And then I'm going to work my way up. One vertebrae at a time." Xander pushed in the protruding flesh and held it closed while Spike began to sew. "Just shut up, Sire. You just hold the cat, okay?" Angel mumbled into his pillow and Spike sewed. He bit off the thread close to Angel's ass and tied it off. Spike slapped Angel's other ass cheek when he was finished. "All done, Sire. Nice and neat. Oh, wait, one more thing." Spike poured the rest of the alcohol over the neatly stitched wound. "There we, go. Very nice, if I do say so, myself. Some of my best work, really." Xander let go of Angel's ass. "We're all done?" He asked, looking at Angel's ass. He grinned. "It looks really good Angel. You look like someone knifed you. Not like I *shot* you!" "Oh, goody. I'm so pleased with that distinction." Angel rose from the bed and ran his hand through his hair. He winced when it got tangled. "I'm going to take a shower and wash my hair about 10 times. Get out of my room." Angel commanded, heading towards the bathroom. "Hey!" "What, Spike?" "Well, there's the little matter of my surgical fee!" Angel changed course and headed towards Spike, menace in mind. Spike threw his hands in the air. "Just joking, Sire. You really should go take care of that hair. It's disgraceful, really. Nasty. I think I just saw something move in there." Angel's hands flew to his hair and he turned back to the bathroom without another word and slammed the door shut behind him. They heard the shower start almost immediately. Spike looked at Xander and ginned. His evil grin. "What?" "Kiss me, Xan." "Um, okay." And Xander did. Quick and hard and fast. His hot lips brushed against Spike's cool ones, before quickly pulling away. He moved back, ready to leave the room. Spike grabbed his hand and pulled him back. Spike was pouting. "Not like that Xander. More like this" And then Spike took hold of Xander and threw him on the bed, coming over him and grinning. Spike placed his mouth against Xander's and thrust his tongue inside as his hand went to Xander's jeans and began to open them. "Umph! Sp-Spike!" Spike pulled back, scowling. "What?" "We can't do this here! Angel will be out soon and there's blood everywhere!" Spike grinned. "Yes. Blood. Isn't it romantic? An' Angel's gonna be washin' his hair for hours. You and I are just gonna have a little quickie." "I really don't thin-" "Too much thinking, pet. Not enough quickie." Spike rose over Xander's knees and finished undoing his pants. He scowled at the gun belt still strapped around Xander and began muttering to himself as he undid it and tossed it over his shoulder and to the floor. "Hey! Be careful with that!" Spike didn't look up or acknowledge Xander as he pulled the mortal's pants to his knees with one hand and undid his pants with the other. "This ain't so hard. Don't know what the pouf was complaining about." He muttered out loud as he freed his hard cock. "What?! What do-." Spike stopped Xander's question with his mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, as he placed his erect member over Xander's and moved. "Um . . .kay, never mind." Xander mumbled into Spike's mouth. Spike brought his hand to Xander's cock and grasped it, holding tight, while still kissing him with deep sweeping movements of his cool tongue. Xander's hands moved to Spike's head, grasping handfuls of the vampire's hair and holding him still as he let his tongue come into play and taking over the kiss. Xander ran his tongue along Spike's teeth and tickled the roof of his mouth before letting it slide along Spike's tongue. "Um, yes, pet." Spike pulled back, ignoring Xander's moan of displeasure, and licked and sucked his way down Xander's chin and to his neck. He suckled the skin over Xander's jugular, leaving a bright red bruise before moving down, nipping, sucking and licking is way down Xander's chest and stomach until he reached the head of Xander's cock. He ran his tongue over the head of Xander's dick before taking the entire length into his mouth and sinking down until his nose nestled in Xander's bush. He swallowed several times, working Xander's cock with his throat before pulling up and sinking back down, letting his tongue sweep across the tightly drawn sac. Spike moved his mouth up and down Xander's cock several times, until Xander grabbed hold of Spike's head and held it still, thrusting himself in deep and holding still as he came with a quiet shout of pleasure. Spike nodded his head, Xander still deep in his throat, as he took in every drop of Xander's release with pleasure. He kept Xander's cock in his throat until he felt the last jettison of come shoot down his throat. He moved his mouth up slowly, his lips wrapped tight around the shaft, until he reached the head. He let it go with a kiss. Xander moaned. Spike grinned and moved up Xander's body, his jeans and boots slowing, but in no way stopping, his progress. He presented Xander with his cock. The young man grinned before wrapping his hand around the shaft and bringing the head to his mouth, licking the wetness up with a swipe of his tongue. Spike moaned and Xander wrapped his hands around the vampire's ass and pulled him close, toppling the vampire over him and sending the cock deep in his mouth. Xander swallowed frantically around the hard shaft, gagging, and tried to breathe through his nose. Spike rose a bit, his hands on the headboard, and let Xander catch his breath. Xander kept one hand on Spike's ass and let the other cup the vampire's balls as he began to suck and lick his way up and down the tasty treat before him. Spike began to work his hips, slow and easy. Xander kept up, loving the feel of Spike sliding in and out of his mouth, past his lips and over his tongue. Spike brought one hand from the headboard and slid it into Xander's silky curls, stroking as the boy worked his mouth over his cock. "Oh, yes, pet. Nice. Very nice. Um. . .I 'm gonna come. . .S'okay if I come in you?" It was Xander's turn to nod his head with a mouth full of cock. He tightened his hand over Spike's balls, rubbing, as he sank down on the cock in his mouth. He brought his hand up, holding tight against the saliva-wet shaft, and began to jack Spike off and into his mouth. He pulled back once he felt the first taste of Spike and wrapped his mouth around the head of him, wanting to taste every drop of his vampire lover. Spike fought the urge to thrust into Xander's mouth and instead, fisted his hand in Xander's hair and came. Holding still, he just came, shooting himself into Xander's open and eager mouth. "Oh, pet." He pulled out slowly, his cock still held in Xander's hand, and moved back down. Spike lay his cheek against Xander's chest, listening to the rapid beat of his lover's heart. He nuzzled against the chest, licking at it and grinning as he worked his pants further down his legs. Xander's hands went to his hair and began to pet him, running his fingers through the bleached strands. Spike moved his head up and into the caress, like some great big cat, rubbing against the strokes. "Pet." Spike chuckled. "That wasn't as quick as I meant it to be." "No? But I'm okay with it." Xander murmured more sleep than awake. "Yeah, me too, pet." "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT! OUT!" Spike's and Xander's eyes flew open and both were wide-awake and scrambling off the bed and stumbling to pull up their pants. "This is Spike's fault!" Xander tattled, falling. He righted himself and began pulling up his pants. "Oh, nice, pet. Glad to know you'll look out for me!" "Hey! Me he can kill! You he'll probably just fuck again!" "Oh! Can't let that go, can you? Well, let it go, sweets! It don't and it didn't mean anything! If you're gonna be with a vam-" "Shut up!" Angel thundered. And thunder this time, he did. Yelled at the very top of his useless but very effective for yelling lungs. Xander winced and covered his ears. "SHUT UP AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM!!" Both vampire and mortal made quick work of righting clothes and headed towards the door, backing up and smiling at a very angry Angel. Xander stopped to scoop up his gun and gunbelt. Spike grabbed his arm and hastened his exit. "Yer hair looks great, peaches." "GET OUT!" Spike pulled Xander out and slammed the door shut behind them. He looked at Xander. "'This is all Spike's fault'?" He mimicked in a whinny tone. Xander grinned. "Yeah. I don't think I was that whinny, but yeah. All your fault." "Oh, yer tongue was cut out? You couldn't say no? You're blameless?" "Yep. Blameless." Xander batted his baby browns at Spike. "I was enthralled by some sex hungry demon." Xander moved in to kiss Spike. Spike pushed Xander away and began walking down the hall. He took hold of Xander's hand and pulled him along. "Stuff it, Xan. I was gonna let you have one of the slayer's wigs, but no more. No wig for you!" Xander grinned at the back of Spike's head. "No wig? Really? Not even if I go back and tell Angel it was all my fault that we did a dirty thing in his bed?" Spike shook his head. "Nope. Too late." Xander moved forward and wrapped his arms around Spike's shoulders and placed his legs next to the vampires, moving with him step for step. Spike ignored him. Xander licked his ear. Spike ignored him and kept moving, turning and twisting his way along. "Ah, can't I have a wig? Pretty please?" Spike stopped at the entrance to the. . . what? Living room? Xander didn't know, but Wesley, Danielle and Cordy lounged about. Cordy took a close look at them. "No coats? All that time and no coats? You two are pretty sorry." "Yeah, but Xander has a bullet and a wig to go home with." Spike muttered. Wesley, Cordelia and Danielle would forever be left wondering why such a statement would cause Xander to pull Spike to him and kiss him so feverishly in front of them. They just hoped such statements were few and far between. Search: The Web Tripod Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » Select Rating share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Chapters 1 It's An Adventure 2 That's Why They Have Those Numbers 3 And All In One Piece 4 Angel 'Whats' Me? 5 TV's and Happy Places 6 Internet? We Need 'Books'. And a Room 7 Put To Bed Naked? 'Stay' Naked 8 My What Big Rats You Have 9 And They Dont Even 'Mate'. 10 Better Than Bored 11 Spike Loses Angel's Lower Limb 12 Bargining for Vampires. 13 I Don't Hear What I Know. 14 Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me? 15 Spike, or the Shiny Headed Santa Clause 16 And the bullet in my ass? 17 Removing coats and bullets 18 Is that an oar or are you just happy to see me? 19 Are We There Yet? 20 Don't Forget the Sign 21 Home Safe and Sound and Presents Too! It's An Adventure by Michelle 18 Is that an oar or are you just happy to see me? "Okay!" Cordelia crossed her arms across her chest. "No more kissing! Just stop it! I don't suffer enough with my visions of horrors? I need to keep seeing Spike and Xander kisses right in front of me? In the flesh? No! I don't!" Xander sat down on the couch. "Man. Sure could use some TV, right about now." He looked at Cordelia and smiled. "I mean, really what's better after bullet removal and sex than T.V?" "Gee, I don't know. How about a shower?" "Naw. Not yet." Xander grinned and wiggled, enjoying his stickiness. "I'm okay." "How about death by former girl friend? Is that a good 'after' thing? Cause I can do that." "Nope." Xander spread his arms out across the back of the couch as he settled further down into the fluffy comfort of the couch. "That come's way down on the list of things to do after bullet removal and sex in a blood stained bed." "I'm gonna call the Watcher." Spike said, interrupting Cordelia's gagging. "Yes! Good idea. Call Giles. Go home you two!" "Well, then, get me the bleedin' phone!" "Oh? What? You don't know where it is by now? You guys have been here, like, for ever now!" Spike made a face at her. "It's been me in a Bleathvore cage for hours, pet, and no I don't know where the phone is. Be a dear and give it to me!" "Well. Everything seems to be nice and settled. I'm just going to take Danielle here to a place she can get some rest. If you need me. . .I'll be, um, unavailable, so please, let's try and not need me." Wesley rose and led the vampire out of the room. Cordelia grabbed Spike's arm and pulled him towards the kitchen, muttering beneath her breath. "What's that? You'd like to give it to me? Cordy! Really? Well, maybe we could. . .Hey! This is just some sick game of I can have my ex-boyfriend's current boyfriend, if I want to, innit? Shame on you! Slut! But, well, revenge is important, isn't it? I understand. So if you wanna have your nasty way with me, fine. Do me." Spike held out his arm towards Cordelia, his wrists limp, and his hands hanging. "I ask only that you be gentle." Cordelia stopped in front of the phone and pointed to it. "You are so not funny, Spike!" "Liar. I'm damn funny." Spike picked up the phone and dialed Giles' number. "And I'm cute, too. You want me. You know you do." Spike winked at her. "Spike! I so do not! You- "Yes." Spike spoke into the phone. "Coroners office, Los Angels county." Spike spoke with a nasal American accent. "We are trying to reach the next of kin of one Alexander Harris. Do we have the right number? Ah, that's so touching, Watcher." Spike pulled the phone away from his ear. "I thought it was funny!" Spike mumbled, placing the phone back at his ear. "But, I've come to the conclusion that every one I know these days lacks humor. He's fine. I was joking. Yes, well, I am a vampire. What? No you can't. He's in the other room. Dammit, if he were dead I'd tell you! No I am not going to go and get him! Oh, for. . .Hey! Watcher! Is your Slayer still alive? Yes? Wanna keep her that way? Yes. Well, I, we, Xander-the still very much alive Xander-and I, have the thing. It's a bowl. How's about that? A bowl. It looks like a plain old bowl. The kind you'd put cereal and milk in, not the type you'd grind up bones in. Those are the bowls I like. Yep, the Bleathvore's had it. Cool bunch, they were. Did I? Well, I take it all back. It was a case of them being chock full of stuff that hurts, us. Not really them being chock full of stinging, stuff. See? We, as, people, or non-people, dead people, if you will, can't take their stuff. We don't get stung by them. They sting us. They were very cool. Loved them. Oh, sorry, I'm so slow, but I was knocked out and held in a small electrified cage for a good bit of time! Yes, of course by the Bleathvores! It wasn't Mickey Mouse and his band of terrorists! Doesn't make 'em any less cool, Watcher. With my charm and my wits, of course, and my way around a deck of cards. Angel was no help. We'd be headless if it were left up to him. Spell, you say? Need it right away, do you? What? No time for Disneyland? What about Knottsberry Farm? Ya sure, then? Not even a spin in the tea cups? You're such a Watcher. But I promised the boy! Yes, Xander! I've not picked up any other boys! Why? Do I have time to? Again, lack of humor. The car? No, sorry, it's fine. Runs like a well-oiled machine. No I did not add oil! He's in the shower. He's very dirty and needs to spend some quality time with his hair and his hair gel. Well, I don't think so. That soon? No. It's late. Or early, whatever you want to call it. We'll crash here 'till sundown and then head back. Yes, I'll try. What if I just leave it on the edge of town, hire a hack, an' you report it stolen when we get there? No? Why not? Well, I'll set it afire! Of course that would be wrong! It would be insurance fraud. But that'd be practically an American tradition! Ha! If I could do that to myself I would and thank myself for the good time! You, again, show your lack of humor, Watcher. I've a mind not to give you your present. Bleathvore stuff. Um, yes, now be nice to me, once I mention presents. Whore yourself to me, Watcher, you know I love that. Yes you are, you little be-nice-to-the-vamp-once-he-mentions-dusty-tomes-of-knowledge-Watcher, you. Um. Yeah. A few sweet words to the vamp-with-the-human-and-demon-skin-for-pages-books. Whatever. I don't know! I gotta go. I do. I'm gonna find a flat surface to fuck Xander and then go to sleep. What? I said sleep. Are you sick? Why would I say that? But I do! Leather bound dusty old tomes of great importance, I'm sure. Oh, yeah. Nice. Whore Xander now. I was, uh, kidding? No? Look, I've the thing, we are safe and sound, so's the car. My apologies 'bout that, can't be helped, the little Honda is a trooper, and we'll be home soon. Love you bunches." Spike hung up the phone with a big grin. "You are so evil, Spike." Cordelia muttered from the doorway. "Still here, pet? Stayed to seduce me, did you, you deep-eyed wench?" Cordelia snorted. "No I did-" "Well, forget it." Spike headed towards the living room. "Had your chance, you did, girlie. Xander! Your trampy ex-girlfriend is trying to put the moves on me!" "Be strong and don't look her in the eyes. It's the eyes that get you!" Spike found his way back to the living room. Xander was lying on the sofa staring up at the ceiling. "Bored, pet?" Spike asked, flopping down over him and leaning into Xander's face. "Yes!" Xander smiled into Spike's face. "Well, okay I am counting tiles. God yes, I am! There is no TV here. Can we take the bowl and go home now? No TV. No vamps, to-no offense-, Spike, -to slay. I'm hella bored! And I'm hella hungry! I wanna go eat! And I wanna go home! If we leave now we can just make it before you go poof! What say you? Shall we go for it? Live on the edge? I'm okay with the risk factor. I feel nice and safe." "It'll be daylight soon." Spike told him, settling his hips and hands upon Xander, getting comfortable. Xander sat up, his back against the arm of the couch. He smiled at Spike as the vamp leaned down and kissed him. "You can get into the trunk of the car, and we can go home." Xander offered, all reason. Spike smiled down into Xander's face. "I am not getting into the trunk, or the back seat, or even the passenger seat. Just forget about driving home, pet. Fucked you, yeah, and while it means I like you, it does not mean I like, like you enough to let you drive us home, it---." CRACK! And Spike was slumped over him. Knocked out cold. Knocked out dead. Or deader than usual. "Well, hell. This can't be good. Why'd you do that?" Xander asked a grinning Angel, once he'd pushed a knocked out Spike out of the way. A grinning Angel, all shiny clean and spike haired, Angel, that held an. . .oar? "Is that an oar? As in, lets go for a boat ride, oar?" Angel moved it away from his face and smiled at Xander. "Yep. An oar. Come on. He needed a good whack, anyway." Angel pulled Spike off of Xander and dropped him on the floor. "Hurry. He's gonna wake soon. Best get you two in the car before that happens." "Um, yeah. But for some reason, I don't want you to treat my vampire like that. Be a little more careful with him, would you? But I am so gonna blame this all on you!" Xander told the dark haired vampire, as he picked up his end of the blond vampire and hefted him out the door. "Umph. Yeah." Angel grinned at Xander as he shoved him out the door via Spike's dead weight. "Yep. It'll be funny like once you two are back in Sunnydale, or mostly back in Sunnydale. Quick! Open the back door!" "No! Put him in the front seat! That way I can see him as he's coming for me." "Yeah. But I don't think he's gonna hurt you, Xander. Maybe just slap you around a little. You can take that, can't you? Plus, you can blame this all on me." "Umph, he's heavier than he looks, watch his legs! And I am gonna blame this all on you, duh! Already said so. Not to mention it's all your doing! Hear the future: It will sound like: 'Angel hit you! Angel put you in the car, and Angel grrd at me until I drove away, are you okay, my sweet, Spike? Oh, and Cordy buckled you in.' Sound good? 'Cause that's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That's my plan. You like? Sound good? Do I have all the stuff? I'd hate for him to have to come back for his garbage. He's gonna be pissed, if I didn't get it all." Xander told Angel as he buckled the knocked out vampire into his seat belt. "You'd better have loaded all the stuff. Books and stuff." Xander gave Angel a glare. "I mean it. I want all his gar-um, stuff! Wigs, included! I don't want to have to turn the car around. But I will, if I have too!" "It's all in there. You are ready to leave, Xander. Have a good trip. Please leave now." "Kay. Um, how long do you think he's gonna be out?" Angel grinned. "Not long, I'm afraid. You'd better hurry." Xander grinned, placed a CD in the player, blasted Breakstuff and hit the freeway. "Ugh. Turn it down. What'd I drink? How much did I have to drink? Did I sell Dru? What I get for her? Xander? Xander?! What the fuck? Did you hit me, you little shit?" Xander reached over and turned the music up. Fred Durst continued to bitch about his ex and Xander checked the rear view before changing lanes. "Hey, Spike. Amongst the living once again? Or so. Missed you, I did. Sleep good?" "Did you hit me, Xander?" "No!" Spike rubbed the back of his head and winced once he came across the lump. The lump that hurt. "I've been hit. I know when I've been hit! On the back of my head. And hard, too!." Spike sorta snarled at Xander while he whined at him. "Yeah. With an oar. Boat ride kinda oar. He whacked you a good one." Xander told him, changing lanes, once again. "That damn Angel." "Did that little soul-full fuck hit me, Xander?" Xander bit his lip and changed lanes once again. "Are you trying to get me car sick, whelp? Pick a lane and drive innit! Or I swear I'm gonna vomit in your lap! Did he? Hit me?" "Did he who, what?" Xander made to change lanes once again, but Spike grabbed the wheel and held it still and growled. And how cute was a can't hurt humans vampire's growl? Cute enough that Xander didn't mention it. "Let's not kill the driver!" He said instead. "Um, not much of a threat, when the passenger will walk away all safe and sound. Did that soul-full fuck hit me and knock me out?" "What? Who? Angel? That soul-full fuck? Yep. He clocked you back side the head and shoved you in the passenger seat. Buckled you in and told me to drive home, or else. And what? Really, lover?" And Xander was pissed enough at this point to snear the word 'lover'. Why'd Spike think he had hit him? "What was I supposed to do? He wasn't hurting you, so. . .yeah, and fuck, he'd already hit you, so, yeah, I told him to put you in the car. Be careful with you and let us get home! Shit!" "Be careful with me?" "What the fuck am I doing, now you big baby?" Xander snarled, changing lanes with a hard right turn. Fucker. Spike snickered. "No. You told him to be careful with me?" Spike squeezed Xander's thigh. "Aren't you the sweet vampire slayer's best friend, fucked by a chipped vampire that'd turn you if he could and kill all your friends and bathe in their blood if he could." Xander checked his rearview mirror, signaled, changed lanes, safely, and smiled at Spike. "Would you, really?" "Oh, Xan-pet, I'd spend hours bathing in Giles' and the slayer's blood if I could." "Yeah, yeah, I know. You'd turn me?" Spike chuckled and began to undo Xander's jeans. Once his cock was free and deep in Spike's throat the vampire nodded his head in the affirmative motion. Spike pulled free and gave the mortal a dirty look, eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't let you drive, pet. Let's not get it all twisted, but I would turn you." He sank back down on the hard cock. Xander took one hand off the steering wheel of the Honda and patted Spike on his talented head. "I knew you started to like me, Spike." Xander grinned up at the highway sign letting him know Sunnydale was close. "But I wasn't going all crazy with it." "Mum, Spike? Know what's on the off ramp, home?" Negative motion from Spike. "Winchles!!!!!!!!!"* *winchles is an all night doughnut shop. 19 Are We There Yet? Spike removed Xander from his mouth, licked his lips, placed Xander back inside his jeans and zipped him up. "I'm full." "Good for you." Xander grinned, exiting the highway. "But I want donuts." "Have you no romance in your soul, Xander?" "Um. . ." "You should be telling me what good head I give, whelp!" "Ah. I see. Okay. Cause I'm fresh out of bloody sheets, right? I know how much you like those." "I do. But that's ambiance. Bloody sheets have their place, but now is the time for compliments." Spike squeezed Xander's thigh. "Now is the time for you to say stuff like: Oh, GODJESUSCHRISTABOVE! Never have I had such a blowjob! Are you a professional? And you should smile at me and bat your girlie eyelashes at me and then tell me you feel like you should pay me." Spike gave Xander a grave and serious look. "'God-jesus-christ-above'? Really? You think I should say stuff like that? Cause, I'm not gonna. And I do not have girlie eyelashes." "Well, if not that, then something comparable. Whatever the kids say in the throes of passion these days. And women would kill to have your eyelashes. I've know a few who *have* killed for the likes of them." "That would be the stuff like, 'fuck', 'harder', 'deeper', and, um, 'more'! And I'm sure I say that to you." "Really? That's all they say?" Spike sniffed. "Heathens." Xander pulled into the all night donut shop's parking lot. "If they really like you, and if they are really having a good time they ask you if you want sprinkles." "Do they? Lack's poetry, if you ask me. Calling the lord's name in vain? That shows the lust. Or at least, it did." "Um, yes, back in the day, I'm sure it did, but for now we have what we have. Spike?" "What is it, then, heathen-Xander?" "You want sprinkles?" "Oh, Xan-der!" And Spike fluttered his eyelashes. "Really? I can have sprinkles?" Xander unbuckled his seatbealt and opened the door. "Yep. Really. Sprinkles for you, cause you give the best head I've ever had while driving home from a going to get a slayer saving thing from the vampire ex-boyfriend of said slayer, who just happens to be the only girl I've ever really wanted and was in love with but couldn't have and you seduced me while on said trip and I'm in total denial about said seduction and I guess it all makes me kinda gay now and that's another thing I don't really want to think about but I have learned to love my inner-gunslinger and for that I'm grateful. Oh. And for my inner gunslinger's gun. Well, guns. Cause I kinda stole a gun or five of Angel's. I thank you for that. So? Want sprinkles?" "I don't know." Spike grabbed his head and squinted at Xander. "That speech has given me a headache and made me all confused. Sentence? Paragraph? Thought? Or thesis?" Again, Spike made with the eyelashes. "But do you love me?" Spike simpered. "I'm offering sprinkles, Spike. Take 'em or leave 'em." "Sprinkle me, baby." Xander shut the door and walked towards the shop door. Spike leaned across the seat and stuck his head out the driver's side window. "But, Xan-der!" Spike yelled over the roar of the five Harleys pulling into the parking lot. Xander opened the door and held it open as he turned back to look at Spike. "What?" "So? Was it the best head ever?" "I don't see what you're so mad about. They didn't hurt you. Didn't even rough you up." "Humph." Xander checked his mirrors and made his turn. "You bullshitted your way out of any trouble just fine, didn't you?" "Humph." Xander sped up a little. Not too much. Hit his brights at a dark corner. All clear. He made his turn. "It's not like you were once the Big Bad and found yer'self incapacitated with the very thought of ripping their throats out, is it, then? That be a hard thing to swallow, wouldn't, then? That be something to be in a pissy mood about, then, wouldn't?" "Humph." Xander reached over and into the box of donuts on Spike's lap and pulled out a chocolate cake with sprinkles. He hit a button on his door and Spike's window slid down. He tossed the donut out and then closed the window. "There were only five of them. You kill vampires. You hang out with the Slayer. You've shagged a very dangerous, blood thirsty, wanna kill all your friends, vampire! That'd be me, pet." Spike sniffed. "You have a gun. Or guns, apparently, you little klepto." "Humph." Xander reached for a cream filled glazed and brought it to his mouth. He made a sharp turn and bit into the deep fried cream filled treat. "Not a klepto. I meant to steal them." He shot Spike a dirty look. "They probably weren't even real bikers. Just those corporate nancy-boys, like to dress up like and play at being bikers. They did have nice leathers though, didn't they? That one giant bloke, had on a nice set of chaps, didn't he? That was good leather, it was." "Humph." "So, sure. Maybe I shouldn't have tipped over the bikes. Sometimes I forget about the chip and just start to recall my days of yore! Days of fun! Days of me being SPIKE and being able to have fun like that! Sue me!" "Humph." "That whole me being your retarded brother, while really galling, was pure genius, on your part. See? Who needs super slayer stuff when you can bullshit like that? Strength is strength and while it's a good thing to have it ain't bullshitting! Now that's good stuff. The Slayer? She'd still be fighting!" "Humph." "You liked it. You know you did. When the giant helped to buckle me in you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. I know you did. I know you Xander. You think you're all deep and secretive, but I know you. I read you, Xan. You were having fun." "Humph." "Fine!" Spike undid his seatbelt and reached into the back seat. "Ha! Got it." "Put your seatbelt back on! They ticket for that, you know!" Spike sat back in his seat and tossed Xander a grin as he rolled down his window. He placed his right arm out the window. "I'm gonna drop the bowl, Xander." "What? Bring that back in here right this minute, Spike! Right this minute! Do you want me to stop the car? I will. I'll stop." "Stop. I don't care. Admit it." "Admit what? You're a fucking nut? Yes! I admit it! You're the nuttiest vampire ever!" "Admit you had fun with the bikers." "I did not have fun with the fucking bikers! You could have gotten us killed! Beaten to death by really big guys in leather! Not the way I want to go!" "My fingers are getting numb, Xander. I might drop the bowl. I need truth. Did you have fun?" "God damn it, Spike! Okay! Maybe!" "Can't feel my little finger. Gonna drop the bowl." "Fine! Yes! It was fun! It was fucking fun! When that big leather dressed behemoth helped me buckle you in and took such care with you I wanted to crack up! Okay? Yes! That was fun! This is not. Bring the bowl back in." "Okay." crash. "Oops." Xander slammed on the breaks, fishtailing and stalling the car. "Now that's a seatbelt! I mean, really! I didn't even move. I might have to look into getting one of these little Hondas, I just might. Don't see what the Watcher is so against." "You dropped the bowl?" Xander asked through gritted teeth. Spike was pulling at his now slack seatbelt. "What? No. That was just a bowl. Ceramic, circa 1970's. Had a pretty pattern I liked, though. Thought it'd make a nice cereal bowl. Shame I dropped it. Didn't think I'd hold the real thing out the bloody window, did you, pet? Think I'm daft? Have Slutty, her great big commando boy toy and Rupert gunning for me? What? You think you're shagging a moron?" Xander took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No. I think you're shagging a moron." He restarted the car and, after beating his head against the steering wheel three times, began driving again. "Okay. Hey!" Spike grinned at Xander. "Only I can talk about the bloke I'm shagging. You be nice. Or else." "Yeah. I'll be nice to me." "Xander?" "What?" "Are we there yet?" Xander turned up the music. How nice. Breakstuff was playing again and wasn't it just one of those days? "We're almost there, Spike." Xander murmured. "Xander!" Spike yelled over the music a few minutes later, waving his hand in front of Xander's face. "What, Spike?" Xander asked, glaring at Spike. "Are we there, yet?" 20 Don't Forget the Sign "Run over the sign! Run it over!" Spike shouted, bouncing in his seat. "Smash it!" "No." Xander calmly drove past the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign, hands at ten and twelve o'clock. "You little shit! You wanker! This isn't yer bloody driver's test ya know! You're driving the car! You have responsibilities!" "Like making sure I have gas and signaling before a turn?" "Like runnin' over that bleedin' sign! As the driver, you can do stuff, Xander. Fun stuff! You bloody little shit!" Spike crossed his arms across his chest. "That's one o' my things ya know! It's a tradition." Spike turned to look at the back of the still standing welcome sign. He felt a pang. Right where his heart used to beat. He rubbed his chest and turned to sit forward again. He looked at Xander. "Do you care nothing for me Xander? I'm at a bad place in my unlife, Xander. You know this. Little things, Xander. That's all I have, pet. Just the little things. Like the sign." He paused, looking at Xander. A seemingly uncaring Xander. "I don't mean a bloody damn thing to you, do I?" He sniffed. "Didn't we do this already?" "But the sign!" "Yeah. The sign. I work, Spike. I pay taxes. It's my money that goes to fix that fucking sign!" "Well, hell. Put this baby in reverse, run it over, and I'll pay you back, you big money grubbin' baby!" "Um. . . that's a thought from one who has no money. But no. Not gonna do it." Xander flashed a grin at Spike. "Sorry. Nope." "You're such a big man, all driving the car and stuff aren't you Xanderpet? I'm gonna fuck you into a whimpering mass, Xander." "Promises, promises . . ." Xander sang as he drove. "Oh yes I am-Ooo. . . Stop here! Pull in!" "What? Here?" Xander glanced at the glaring neon sign. "No way! What are you crazy? This place is evil. Way evil!" Xander put his foot to the gas and speed past. "What? You wouldn't run over the Welcome to Sunnydale sign for me, and now you are attempting to keep me out of WalMart? Are you some demon spawn from hell no one has seen fit to warn me about? Or you've been possessed? Yes?" Spike leaned close to Xander and sniffed. Xander giggled. "Something has possessed you? Xander? Can you hear me, Xander?" "Ha, ha, very funny,Spike." Spike moved back, sinking into his seat. "I am not playing, luv. Or whatever you may be." Spike leaned in again, sniffing and licking at Xander's neck. "Smells like Xander. Tastes like Xander. Xander? Take me to WalMart this instance!" "No! WalMart is evil." Xander continued to drive away from WalMart without a second glance. "Really? Possessed? Innocent ole WalMart? How's it possessed, then, pretty one?" "The place is just evil, okay? Evil!" ""How can you be so sure? Just what kind of evil? I thought I knew most evil. . ." "WalMart possesses the type of EVIL, my uninformed-dead-non-shopping-friend, that sucks you in and keeps you in! Oh! You think you only need some laundry detergent. Ha! But it turns out you need fabric softener too! And a ball to go with it! Ha! That's not the end of it! Oh, no. You need some underwear? Turns out you need three new C.D's and a few new videos as well!" Xander shook his head. "The evil money-sucking never stops! Once you're in? You don't get out! Not for under a hundred bucks at least, anyway, my friend. It's evil. It's criminal." Xander shook his head again. "They orta outlaw that place." "Really? All that? I just want a gift box for the slayers' wigs." "A gift box for the slayers wigs?" Xander snickered, amused. "Yes. Just that." Spike smiled at Xander, all cheekbones and teeth. "And I bet you a blowjob I can come out of there with only a gift box. Just the one." Xander gave a sharp, illegal turn and headed to the WalMart parking lot. "You need way more than just a gift box, Spike." Xander smirked, parking. Spike unfastened his seatbelt and shot a superior look at Xander. "No I don't." Spike opened the door and paused on the way out. "I do, however, require, cash." He smiled at Xander and held out his hand. "Gimmie some money, baby." Xander snickered and reached into his front pants pocket, pulling out a thick wad of cash. Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Lot o' scratch ya got there, pet." "Yeah. Angel had a stash under all his hairbrushes. I, uh, liberated some o' these poor ignored hundreds." Xander gave a sweet look. "Cash has feelings too! Shame to just leave money lying around like that. All uncared for. . ." "Bloody klepto." Xander smiled at Spike. "Thief damn you! I was fully aware of my stealing this money!" Xander smiled and pulled off five bills. "Here." He handed the money to Spike. Spike snatched the money and pocketed it. "Don't you have something smaller? I just want a gift box." Spike asked, money deeply pocketed. Xander grinned. "Nope. That's part of the evilness of WalMart. If you have the money, you will spend the money. My dare to you is that you walk into WalMart, buy the gift-box, nothing else, and come out, with only a gift box in hand." "That's it? Go into the store, buy what I want and come out? And I get a blowjob? That easy? That sweet?" "Yep. That easy. That sweet. Go." "Are you gonna follow me?" "Nope." Xander parked the car and turned up the music. "I'll just want to see the receipt." "That's it?" "Yep. That's it. Go forth and be one with the evil that is WalMart." "Fine." Spike left the car and headed inside. Xander waited ten minutes and then headed towards the exit, hiding behind a Pepsi machine. He had a Pepsi as he waited for Spike. It wasn't long before he heard an accented voice mumbling about the evils of WalMart. He popped out and confronted Spike. Spike of many bags. "So!" He yelled. "What's in the bag?" He smirked. "Or should I say 'bagS'?" Spike jumped. "You said you wouldn't follow me!" Xander grinned. "I lied. What's in the bags? Seems like a lot for just a giftbox." Spike grinned. Caught. And loving it. "I bought all kinds of stuff! You were right! I needed stuff I didn't know I needed. Like the new "Family Values Tour CD! Didn't even know they had a new one! Bought the old one too! Hehe. And I bought some new ice trays. . . yours are getting so's you can't even get ice outta them! And, I got- "Seem's you lost the bet, eh?" Xander grinned. "Yep. You owe me a blowjob. I couldn't just get the one thing." Xander couldn't help but laugh. "That wasn't the bet! You owe me a blowjob." "Are you daft? I wouldn't agree to such a bet! That wasn't the bet, pet. Now! My blow job, now or later? I'll leave that up to you." "You said-" "I said," Spike began, cutting him off. "I'll bet you a blow job I can get just the one thing. And I couldn't. You were right. So I get a blow job!" "And if you could have gotten one thing?" "Well, then I'd have been right, and you would get to blow me. Are you slow Xander? I used to think so, but then I changed me mind, but now I'm wondering again." Spike shook his head and began walking to the car, leaving Xander to muddle through the bet semantics. "Spike!" Xander shouted. "Yeah, pet?" Spike asked, still walking. "I don't like you!" "Yeah, but a deal's a deal an' a wager's a wager." Spike turned, walking backwards as he smiled at Xander. "An' I'll be wantin' me blowjob, pretty pet." He gave a grin and turned back around, making his way to the car and into the driver's seat. "What makes you think I'm going to give you the keys?" Xander asked him, once he too, reached the car. "Time." Spike smiled at him. Xander glanced at his watch. "Time? Seems to me, time is more on my side. I don't fear the sun. I got plenty of time." "Do'ya think so? I don't fear the death o' the Slayer. Who's the one with the time, then, pet? You wanna wait till sun up? Wait till I have to crawl, all smokin' and whimpering' into the boot?" Xander pulled the keys out of his pocket and looked at them. "We probably have lots of time left." "Probably. Almost certainly, really." Xander walked to the passenger door, grumbling beneath his breath all the while, and climbed in, slamming the door shut. He fastened his seat belt and glared at Spike. "Do you see why no one likes you, Spike?" He asked the vampire while handing over the keys. Spike took the keys and leaned over to buss Xander on the lips. He started the car and pealed out of the parking lot. "Yep! Cause I'm the Big Bad and everyone is jealous!" He smiled at Xander while passing a car in a no passing lane. "Aren't you glad we're fucking, pet?" "Oh, yes. The joy." "Oh, shit! Wrong way!" Spike threw out his arm, holding Xander in place. "Hold on, pet." With that, Spike cut a sharp U-turn and sped down the road. "What? What wrong way? We weren't going the wrong way!" Spike leaned over the steering wheel and floored the gas pedal. He turned to leer at Xander, licking his lips. "You know, pet. You know." "Yeah." Xander sighed. Spike laughed maniacally and Xander braced himself as Giles' trooper Honda crashed into the Welcome to Sunnydale sign, smashing it into smithereens. Spike pulled on the brake and turned the wheel, spinning the car around so it was once again facing the way home. "Now. Wasn't that fun pet? That was fun! You can't tell me that wasn't fun!" "Can we go home now, Spike?" Spike revved the engine. "Yep. Let's go save us a Slayer, with all our junk." Spike turned up the radio, and speed toward Giles's place. "Oh, and get me a blowjob! Let us not forget my blowjob." "Yes. Your blowjob. Oh. The joy." 21 Home Safe and Sound and Presents Too! "What? Why are you pulling over? We're almost home!" Xander demanded. "My blow job." Spike told him, pulling over to the side of the road and parking. "I am not blowing you on the side of the road, Spike." "Watcher's driveway work better for you, pet?" Spike checked the rearview mirror before turning off the car. He left the radio on and moved the steering wheel up. "I'm not blowing you at all! You cheated!" "I did not cheat!" Spike unbuttoned his jeans. "Yes you did!" "Oi! I did not. Fine!" Spike unzipped his jeans with a grin before reaching over to press the release button on Xander's seatbelt. "I cheated. I cheat all the bloody time, Xander. I lie, I steal, I tell bright eyed, chubby-cheeked little urchins that the Santa they just sat on is really some ole perv that will be tossin' off thinking about them later on that night. I kick puppies and I drown kittens." Spike wiggled in his seat, pulling his jeans down a bit. "I spend countless hours dreamin' of killin' people you care about." He pulled his hardening cock out and gave it a fond squeeze. "Now be a good lad, and suck my dick, humm?" Xander gave into his laughter and didn't stop until Spike reached out and grabbed Xander by the back of his neck and pulled him over and down. Xander's open mouth settled nicely over Spike's cock. "Mummff." Spike arched up, pushing his cock deeper into Xander's mouth. "Watch the teeth, pet." Xander bit him. Spike snickered, pulling lightly at Xander's hair. "Pet! That's lovely. You know what I like. Speed it up a touch, though, would ya, pet? Traffic an' all." Spike closed his eyes, leaning his head back as Xander's mouth moved over him, urgent and hot. His eyes opened wide when Xander licked at his tightly drawn sac. "Not too fast, then, eh?" Spike was whistling as he pulled the car into Giles' driveway. "Home, pet! An' all in one piece too. Not a bad time we had, huh?" "So says the vampire that got head on the side of the road. Spike?" "Yeah?" "Do you really kick puppies?" "Course not! I love puppies!" "Drown kittens?" Spike gave the horn two sharp blasts. "Only the ones that scratch me." He grinned at Xander before popping the trunk. "Come on, Xander. Let's go save the Slayer." He opened the door and climbed out as Giles' door opened, spilling forth the gang. "Finally. I was beginning to worry." Giles said, looking at his car. Not at Spike or Xander. "It seems fine, doesn't it? Not a scratch on it." Just a touch of disappointment colored his comment. "Of course it's fine! I took good care-." Spike paused mid-step and mid-sentence, on his way to the trunk. "What? Not a scratch?" Spike turned and made his way to the front of the car. "Well." He gave the front of the car a good look. Not a scratch, not a chip. Not even a wood chip from the Welcome sign. Spike grinned, slapping Giles on his shoulder. "This is a fine motor, Watcher. Give her a chance!" "Um." "So you have it?" Buffy asked, Riley trailing behind her. "Oh! Yes. It's safe, then?" Giles asked. Spike snickered. "Safe as yer car, Watcher." He cocked his head towards the trunk of the car. "It's in the boot." He walked back to the open trunk that Xander was going through. "Watch yerself, pet! Don't touch the bleeding bowl!" "What is all that stuff?" Riley asked. "Presents! For every one but you, boy." He looked Riley up and down, before stating, "I don't like you." "And I'm all broken up about that, Hostile 17." "Name's Spike, boy." "Is it?" "Yes it is you-" "Where's Willow?" Xander asked, moving between Riley and Spike. "Here I am!" Willow rushed to give Xander a hug. "You're okay?" Xander hugged her back, smiling at Tara over her shoulder. "I'm fine. Why? Were you worried about me?" Willow nodded her head in the affirmative motion and said: "Of course I wasn't." She grinned, linking her arm with Tara's. "I knew you could do it." She grinned. "What, exactly, did you do?" Xander puffed up a bit. "I-" "He threatened people. He shot people. He stole stuff. He rescued me an' the pouf. He-" "He's lying. He's drunk. Don't listen to him." Xander began. "Hey! We have, along with our exclusive line of Slayer saving magic bowls, presents for witches!" "Presents? That's so nice!" Tara said; ignoring the silence the other's had created. She looked around at the others. "What?" "You shot people, Xander?" Riley asked. Xander shrugged. "No. I shot vampires." Riley looked at Spike. "Cool." Spike snickered. "Didn't shoot me, Doughboy." Riley took a step forward. "Well, maybe he should-" "Maybe we should bring in the item we need and perform the ritual, yes?" Giles cut in, looking at Spike. "Oh, and. . .the, uh, other things you mentioned? You do have those, don't you?" "Yes, Watcher. I've got your presents, too." Giles smiled. "Well. Let's go in, shall we?" Spike grabbed the bowl and ordered the others to bring in the rest of his stuff. "An' be careful with it, mind you!" Spike placed his burden carelessly on the kitchen counter and headed to the refrigerator. "Got blood, Watcher?" He asked, opening the door and looking inside. "Yes! I'll kill you quick once I get the chance, Rupert, old boy." He snatched a pack of blood out and tossed it into the microwave. "My thanks for keeping a well stocked fridge." Riley came in and dropped a bag. "Hey! Careful with that, ya dolt! That's got presents for the witches!" Willow giggled. "Did you really get presents for us, Spike?" Spike took his heated bag of blood out and dumped it into one of Giles' favorite coffee mugs and took a sip, before giving Willow a grin. "I did. Books of Spells. Good ones." He rifled through the bag and pulled out the leatherbound books, handing them to Willow and Tara. "Play nice, ladies. Just keep me out o' them." "I'd like to take a look at those, before you, um, do anything with them." Giles intoned. "Of course." Willow murmured, flipping through the pages, Giles forgotten before the words left her mouth. "And more for my favorite Watcher." Spike pulled out more books, piling them on the kitchen table. "Am I a sweet chipped-vampire, or am I?" "Spike, you are-." Giles stopped, picking up a book his eyes going wide with wonder. He ran his hand reverently over the cover. "Yes. Spike. This is. . .this is wonderf-." "Hey!" Buffy demanded, coming into the kitchen with the rest of the bags. "What is all this crap?" "Let me help you with that, Buffster." Xander said, feeling for and finding the bag of wigs. "Just put that stuff down. It's nothing. Well, it's stuff for your mom, and more for Giles, Willow and Tara. Nothing you need to worry about." He dropped the wig-bag behind him and kicked it into a corner. "I'm just going to go in and. . .um. . . I'm going to go with Willow and Tara." "Nothing?" Spike yelled at Xander's back. "It's presents! Present's for everyone!" Buffy gave Spike a skeptical look. "You got me a present, Spike?" "I got the bloody damn thing that'll save your worthless hide! That not enough for you, bint?" Buffy shrugged, holding back a grin. "I suppose that's as good a present as presents go." She paused. "If that's what you're looking for." She cocked an eyebrow. "Giles?" Giles looked up from his book. "Yes? What?" "What's a 'bint'?" Giles gave her a blank stare. "Spike?" "Yeah?" "Bring the bowl into the other room, won't you?" "Certainly." He picked up the Je'dellian bowl and carried it into the other room, smirking at Buffy and Riley on the way. He gave it a toss, for show. "Let's get this done with, shall we?" Giles muttered, still flipping through the pages of the book Spike had given him. "Hey!" Giles glanced up at Buffy's shout. He smiled. "So we may ensure the safety and longevity of our slayer." Buffy grinned, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding her head. "Better." "Right then. Places, everyone. Circle." He smiled. "I believe we all, ah, know the drill. Spike, place the bowl in the center, if you will." "If I must." "Just do it, Spike." Everyone in unison. Spike placed the Je'dellian bowl into the center of the prepared circle and the others took their places. Giles performed the brief ceremony. There was complete anti-climax. "That's it then? No thunder? No lightening? No Buffy bursting into flames for even a bleeding second? No orgasm?" Spike spoke up. Riley stood up, grinning. "All good 'no' things for me!" He pulled Buffy up and hugged her. "I'm thirsty, though. Need a Pepsi. Guys? I got a twelve pack in Giles' fridge. Join me?" He looked around at the others. "Job well, done." Giles said. "Um, Pepsi for everyone." Riley smiled, heading for the kitchen. "Be right back." "So that's it? Really?" Buffy asked. "I'm all safe and sound?" She rolled her eyes at Giles. "As safe as I'll ever be?" "Yes. Not complicated, but necessary." He smiled. "We are finished. With this battle." "Good! We can go home!" Willow said, picking up her spell books. "You can't go home with those, Willow." "And just why not? Spike gave them to me!" She smiled at Spike. "Didn't you?" "I did, pet." Spike stood and grabbed Xander by the arm, pulling him up. "And speaking of going, Xander and I have to be." "Spike!" Giles said, quickly. "You can stay here." "No!" Xander said. "Nope." Spike told the watcher, leading Xander towards the door. "Gotta stay with my little Xander." "No, but-." "Hey, what's this?" Riley asked, coming into the room with a tray of pepsi and the bag of wigs. Xander stopped. "That's just garbage, Ri. Toss it." "It's not. That's Buffy's present!" "No. It's not." Riley handed the bag to Buffy. She shook it. She squeezed it. She handed it back to Riley. "Open it, honey." "No!" Xander began. "Just toss it out! It's-" "Let's go, luv." Spike opened the door and pulled Xander out. "I'll just be taking Xander home and keeping him." Riley looked at the door as it closed. He handed the bag back to Buffy. He smiled at her. "You're the slayer. You open it." "Spike, you could have just let sleeping wigs-" Xander began. "Ewee!!!!!" Buffy yelled, loud enough for Spike and Xander to hear as they walked away from Giles place. "Tell you what, pet. I enjoyed the slayer's 'eww' so much, I'll give you a blow job. How's that?" Xander tossed his arm across Spike's shoulders. "That's good. I can deal with that." "What are those?" Buffy demanded. "Wigs?" Tara replied her tone meek. She perked up a bit and she smiled at the slayer. "Blonde ones. At least he got your color right." The End

Btvs.MovieQuotes
Search: The Web Angelfire Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: This ficlet has no nutritional value-- Feedback: But it does have heart. And no small amount of soul, can ya dig it? Notes/Spoilers/Warnings: Set between S4 and S5. Summary: A ficlet written for the spander132 moodring prompt: surprise. The First by Beetle “Well?” “Hey--I’m trying to decide, here! You just don’t spring a question like that on the Xan-man and expect him to remain calm!” “Calm, schmalm, git, just gimme a yes or no?” “Oh, you’d like me to think it’s that simple, but I happen to know better. If I say no--” “So your answer’s no?” “--then you point at me and mock me. If I say yes--” “Your answer’s yes, then?” “--if I say yes, you’ll point at me and mock me even harder.” “Would I do such a dastardly thing? Set you up like that, just for a laugh at your expen--right, stupid question.” “Very. Anyway, it’s not yes, but it’s not no, either. It's an 'I-need-time-to-think'.” “Oi! You can’t do that!” “The fact that I just did says otherwise.” “You’re bloody annoying. Can’t stand you, sometimes.” “Are you pouting? And here I thought the Big Bad only pouted when he missed Passions. . . .” “I’m really starting to hope something with big, blunt teeth wanders along and eats you.” “Yes, reminding me of my own mortality at a wildly inappropriate moment . . . nice move, bleacho.” “Or maybe a Stregath demon, yeah? Be great fun watchin’ one of those slither along and slurp you up like a strand of screaming, flailing, floppy-haired spaghetti.” “Spike, you do wonders for my self-esteem.” “Save the flattery--you made up your mind yet?” “Ah, the clarity of a one-track mind--or I guess no-track, in your case.” “Oi! You’re the one still dithering--” ”Dithering? The year eighteen ninety-six called for you, Captain Peroxide. It wants it’s slang back.” “Oh, yeah? Well the year two thousand called for you, you wanker, and said answer the sodding question sometime this millennium!” “And anyway, it’s not dithering; I prefer to call it a weighing of pros and cons.” “Bollocks! This isn’t Sophie’s Choice, mate!” “Maybe not to you.” “Then maybe we should call this whole thing off. It was a stupid idea, anyhow--” “Come on, Spike, don’t be like that. . . .” “Feelin’ a bit tired, me. Should just call it a night, turn in. . . .” “Oh, fine. Fine, ya big baby--my answer is a) Dolph Lundgren and yes, that is, indeed, my final answer.” “Ha! The answer was d) the Red Sea! Too bad, loser!” “Comes the pointing and mocking, right on cue. . . .” “And for future reference, Harris, Dolph Lundgren is never the answer to a multiple choice question. Ever.” “Gee, thanks for the tip. This game sucks.” “The questions are ridiculous, but the entertainment value is undeniable.” “Let’s play something else. Canasta, maybe, or Uno. . . .” “You didn’t even make it to the four thousand dollar question--that has to be some kind of record--” “Try to sound a little less gloaty, Fangless.” “I’m dead and I’m more well-informed than you.” “Spike--” “The American school system really has failed your generation--” “Damnit, Spike!” “What?!” “. . . .” “. . . .” “. . . .” “Bloody hell . . . never woulda thought you were the kiss-on-the-first-date type--not that I’m complainin’.” “I’m not--I don’t . . . but for you, I made an exception.” “Clearly. . . .” “But don’t let it go to your head. Hey, wait a minute--this is your idea of a date?” “Got kissed, didn’t I?” “Spike, it’s Saturday night and we’re playing board games in the Basement of Doom. I may be cheap, and I may be easy, but I’m not that cheap or that easy! Tonight does not count as a date.” “Bugger . . . I suppose, instead of shagging right away, you’ll wanna take this slow; go on proper dates, see movies, get to know each other, et cetera?” “Well . . . considering my track record, yeah. Slow is very of the good, because--” “Because?” “I--I have reasons, you know, valid ones. Very valid--” “I’m sure they are, love.” “--something about--out of the frying pan and into each other’s pants--dear God, Spike!” “Hmm?” “Stop making me hard!” “. . . .” “I mean stop making it hard for me to think!” “Hmmm . . . no.” “You are such--gah!--an evil bastard.” “Every day of the week and twice on Sundays . . . now then, pet, what else don’t you do on first dates. . . ?” The End Read the Sequel Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon Search: The Web Angelfire Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Fic for darkhavens Pairing: Spike/Xander Rating: R Disclaimer: The fault rests with whomever is weak enough to lay blame. Concrit/Feedback: Word-up, home-slice. Summary: darkhavens’s prompt: ‘Spike/Xander playing a movie quote game for shots, degenerating into playing for articles of clothing, and further degenerating into playing for sexual favors *g*’ Set in S4, a sequel to:The First Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon by Beetle 3:20 p.m. “Spike? Wake up. . . .” “Huh? Whazzat?” “I’m bored. . . .” “Bored--? Pet, it’s . . . three in the afternoon on Sunday. Take a nap.” “But I’m not sleepy.” “Then watch some telly, yeah?” “Nothing on but documentaries and infomercials.” “Hmmmmm. . . .” “Spike! Wake up!” “‘M awake, just--restin’ my eyes--” “Let’s play a game.” “A--oh, yeah, sure . . . I’m up for that--” “Gah! I didn’t mean that kinda game!” “Then what the bloody hell--oh, no. . . .” “Spike. . .?” “No, Xan, we’re not playin’ any soddin’ board games. I’m too sleepy and you’re too stupid.” “You really missed your calling, what with being an evil bastard and all. You should’ve worked for Hallmark.” “Wanker.” “Look, what if we played the movie-quotes game, huh? No board required.” “The what?” “The movie-quotes game. Players try to stump each other with quotes from random movies. The one with the fewest incorrect guesses wins--I’ll even keep track of the wrong guesses, so all you have to do is answer.” “Well . . . doesn’t sound too strenuous. . . .” “And you’ll probably win. You must’ve seen every movie made, since you’re, like, a jillion years old--” “Oi!” “You know what I mean. You’re gonna mop the floor with me without even trying.” “Would do that, anyway.” “I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: you do wonders for my ego.” “Oh, don’t be so high maintenance, love . . . alright, I’ll play your nancy little game, but the minute I get bored, we start playing one of my games, yeah?” “Spike! Okay, you’re so not allowed to touch me there once the game starts!” “Spoil-sport. . . .” 4:06 p.m. “Not even close . . . Big Trouble In Little China!” “Dear me. Can’t believe I missed that one . . .” “Uh--Spike, what are you doing?” “Takin’ off my shirt.” “Yes, I see that, and it begs the question: why?” “It’s a rule I came up with. Whoever guesses wrong has to take off an item of clothing.” “Spike!” “What?! I’m just trying to make this a bit more interesting!” “Movie-quotes game doesn’t need nudity to make it interesting!” “. . . .” “Well, it doesn’t!” “You sayin’ you don’t wanna see me naked, then?” “No, it’s not that--” “Good! My turn--This one time, in band-camp--” “American Pie--what happens when we run out of clothes, huh? What then, mister? Why are you smirking like that?” 4:29 p.m. “I’ve been playing this game since I was nine, Spike.” “Your point being--?” “That the movie-quotes game isn’t meant to be played naked. Or with shots!” “You’re not nine years old, anymore, pet. Besides--I don’t see why your bloody GARP has to be involved, either . . . don’t hear me complainin’.” “Okay first? It’s not GARP, it’s GORP. It stands for Good Old Raisins and Peanuts. You may have heard it referred to as trail mix, oh, undead one. Second--it’s not a part of the game, it’s just the accompanying snack. Every game has one. Monopoly has nachos, The Game of Life has Twizzlers, Risk has cheese popcorn--” “Alright, I get the point. Just be careful not to slop it all over the bed . . . don’t fancy Good Old Raisins and Peanuts pokin’ me in the arse mid-shag.” “I’m not a toddler! I can eat in bed without making a mess--whoops!” “It’s like I’m bloody psychic--” “I got em’--it was just two raisins and an M&M . . . and the perimeter has been secured.” “Wait--M&Ms? Don’t recall any ‘M’ sounds in that nifty little acronym of yours. . . .” “The ‘M’ is silent.” “Sure it is, nummy.” “If you can sully the movie-quotes game with nudity and hard liquor, I can sully the GORP with M&Ms.” “Fine . . . Queen of spades . . . four of hearts . . . eight of spades . . . deuce, spades, jack of diamonds, jack of clubs--argh! ” “No sweat--Evil Dead, evil undead . . . If I was you guys, I wouldn’t pay to see a monster movie, I’d just stay home and look in the mirror!” “I really am gonna mop the floor with you--It.” “Damnit!” “It’s not so hard. Acquiescence. You just. Give. In.” “Um . . . . Interview With The Vampire?” “Ugh! God, no. Ravenous! Take a shot!” “I can’t believe I let you talk me into playing naked, and for shots instead of points. . . .” 5:10 p.m. “Um . . . Mary Poppins?” “No--but close, love. A Clockwork Orange. Drink up” “. . . .” “Er, pet?” “Hmm?” “‘S your turn.” “Really? Oh, fudge . . . Looks like we’ll need a bigger boat.” “You’ve got to be kidding me?” “Haha! I’ve stumped you, at last! The game is mine!” “Jaws, pet.” “Spike!” “What’s the matter, now?” “You’re way too good at this game. Are you sure you’re not, you know . . . cheating, a little?” “For the tenth time, love, cheating would be impossible.” “But you’re, like, *hic* super evil and stuff. Die-balolical, even. If there was a way to cheat at and pervert something as pure and wholesome as the movie-quotes game, you’d find it.” “. . . that may be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Harris. . . .” “In fact, you did pervert it, you bad, wicked man-pire. Booze and nudity and movie-quotes don’t go together. . . .” “I’m tellin’ you, Jack Daniels used to play the movie-quotes game naked with his mates--Jim Beam and Johnny Walker--all the time!” “Evil, undead liar-guy.” “Keep stroking my ego, love, and you’ll find yourself stroking something else of mine in short order.” “You’ve brought shame on the ancient and noble movie-quotes game.” “You sayin’ you don’t wanna touch my body?” “Um. . . .” “‘Cause I wanna touch yours, pet. . . .” “Spike--” “Wanna lay you down--” “No! No laying down during game-play!” “--and fuck you on a bed of GORP and M&Ms.” “That’s--that’s against the rules! And kinda icky. . . ” “What rules?” “The ones I made up before I was all naked and tipsy!” “Don’t recall you sayin’ anything about no fucking around on GORP and M&Ms.” “It’s an unspoken, but tacitly understood rule. Like ‘no tripping the elderly’ and ‘no feeding Mogwais after midnight’.” “You can’t even take the stick out of your arse when you’re drunk. Like Watcher, Jr, you are.” “Really? You think so?” “That wasn’t a compliment! Did you even hear a bloody word I just said?” “Hah! The Miracle Worker!” “That wasn’t even a sodding--wait--er, wrong answer, love! Time for another shot.” “Gah . . . I don’t think I should have anymore shots right now, Spike.” “But you missed a quote, love--” “Can’t I just have my shot later?” “--you’re out of clothes and too far gone for more Jack--unless you wanna forfeit the game--” “Never! I’m the movie-quotes game champ! I’ve never lost a game, not even to Jesse!” “--then we’re just gonna have to alter the stakes again, yeah?” “Um . . . you’re smirking again and I’m kinda frightened.” “Next quote missed, the quoter gets a kiss. Quote after that is worth a protracted fondle--” “Uh--Spike. . . .” “I guess after that it could be a hand job, then a blow job, then a finger-fuck, though I’m more partial to rimming--” “Spike!” “What!” “Just say a flingin’, flangin’ movie-quote!” “Fine. Whatever. Play it again, Sam.” “Hmm . . . gee, dunno. You stumped me, but good.” “Yeah, I--wait, that was a throwaway.” “It was? Huh, can’t believe I missed it. Oh, well . . . I owe you a kiss--gah! Spike! What are you doing?” “Plannin’ on makin’ a bunch of right guesses any time soon?” “Well. . . .” “Exactly. So why draw it out? Wanna collect my winnings now.” “”But--that’s against the rules! And--there’s gonna be GORP digging into my back and M&Ms melting in places better left unmentioned!” “Hazards of the movie-quotes game, love. . . .” “Are you saying I’m not worth winning fair and square?” “Oh, don’t bloody pout, mate--” “Are you?” “You know I’m not!” “Then you may collect your kiss whenever you’re rea--” “. . . .” “. . . .” “Wow.” “Damn right, wow. Next quote.” “Okay . . . um, Adrienne! Adrienne!” “Uh . . . you got me, pet. Looks like I owe you a fondle.” “See? With the right stakes, the movie-quotes game can be really--eep!" The End

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Search: The Web Angelfire Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Chapters Chapter 2A Chapter 2B Chapter 3A Chapter 3B Chapter 4 Rating: NC-17 Warnings: D/s, daddy!kink, derogatory terms and probably more over time Summary: My story muse may be gone, but my smut muse has come back full-force. This is more crack!fic. Takes place in some random season 5, wherein Spike decides that Xander needs something and Xander can't seem to figure out how to say 'no'. Even if he wanted to. Which he really doesn't. This is basically kinks with crack and not much more. Feedback: We are whores for it. Sharkie beta'd this, but I didn't (have no brain power for it right now) so any mistakes are mine. Shadow Garden by Lady Cat and Wolfshark Part One He just watched. Oh, he wasn't obvious about it -- the watcher, the witch, and the slayer (oh my) did have some sway left and the possibility to stop this regardless of what either wanted. For all their outlandishness in many areas, the three of them were surprisingly... prudish. Oh, Rupert wasn't, when he took off the tweed and the glasses and the responsibility he wore so badly. But the girls were, and it was them that really had the power to do serious damage. So he kept his stares short, the heat in them limited enough that bonfires weren't about to start blazing. But there was heat, and a kind of twisted amusement that always provoked flushes and squirming. Xander was a big boy, now, full grown and full weight. A man, if he ever convinced himself to act like it instead of the boy he felt he was. Not that Spike was truly complaining. He liked little boys in grown men's skin. As the meeting wound down, Willow approached Xander to ask if he was maybe catching a cold. Xander stuttered and stammered his way through a dismissal, citing just being tired from a long day at the site. It wasn't the best of answers, but Willow seemed complacent enough with it while Xander tried so very hard not to look back at Spike for approval. Such an adorable thing, his boy. About to be his boy, anyway. Spike was tired of the games and wanted all of it already. He sneaked after Xander as the boy headed home, keeping to shadows in case his friends decided to make an appearance. Right before the apartment, though, Spike materialized out of the shadows to pace at Xander's side; held out his hand for the keys with a single raised eyebrow. *** It seemed like every time he looked up all evening, Spike was looking at him. More used to being dismissed than watched, Xander got more and more edgy as the evening wore on, and when Willow asked what was bothering him, it took effort to stammer out an excuse that she'd buy so that Xander could make his escape. In the cooling evening air, Xander avoided thinking about the signals that Spike had been sending him all night. But like thinking of pink elephants, the harder he tried not to, the more he thought of it. When Spike materialized out of nothing, holding out his hand for his keys, Xander was so startled that he handed them over without thinking, only to try and take them back a second later. "What do you think you're doing, fangless?" *** Spike quickly transferred the keys to his pocket, smiling genially as he patted Xander's. "Don't you worry, pet. Just going home with you, aren't I? Have a beer, watch some TV." Tease out that secret fantasy you've had for days, now, driving me crazy with the scent of you. "Now, you just relax now." Xander wasn't relaxing -- well, not much -- continuing to watch in confusion and wariness as they headed up to Xander's apartment. He waited quietly as Spike unlocked the main door, and then again as the inner door was opened, keys jangling cool against Spike's skin. Spike thought about praising Xander for being such a good boy already, but it was oddly sweeter for being so subconscious. Xander wasn't thinking about pleasing Spike; he just was. "Now, then. Go get me a beer, pet, and a bit of something for yourself." Seating himself on the boy's sofa, Spike waited to see which way the boy was going to jump first. *** Xander stood uneasily for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. There wasn't anything that Spike said specifically that was disturbing him. But there was... something happening that Xander didn't understand. Finally, though, he shrugged and went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer out of the refrigerator. He started to grab a soda for himself, and then shrugged and grabbed his own beer. He needed to relax. *** Spike didn't look up from the TV he'd turned on, simply holding out his hand for his already-opened beer to be pressed against his fingers. There was a delay of a few seconds -- but only a few. Smirking as the figure on the television did something stupid, Spike leaned back to sip at his brew, watching out of the corner of his eye. Xander looked confused, poor thing, dithering over whether to sit on the sofa or the easy chair catty-corner to the sofa or ... nah, not the floor. Boy wasn't ready for that yet. But Spike was fairly sure it wouldn't take long to get him there. Not long at all. Once Xander was seated -- sofa, nervously sipping his own beer -- Spike kicked off his boots and leaned back, feet on the end table. One hand held his beer against his thigh, condensation making his jeans turn even blacker -- while his other hand rested on Xander's thigh. Just to see. Just to test. *** What the hell? Xander's first impulse was to grab Spike's hand and move it. His second was to say something. So he went with the third. He did nothing. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away. Spike's hand wasn't warm, but it was almost comforting in the weight. When Xander started to realize the direction his thoughts were going, he chugged his beer. This isn't good. *** Sighing as if exasperated, Spike reached over and gripped the base of Xander's bottle. "Slow, pet. Don't want you choking or passing out on your own vomit, yeah? I can always allow you more, later." If you're good, he amended privately. Or if I think you need the lubrication. Which I don't. His hand returned to Xander's thigh, this time letting ring finger and pinkie slip in between the boy's legs to brush against the inseam of his jeans. The heat was far more powerful down there, and Spike couldn't wait until he could luxuriate in his own private living hot-pad. Soon, probably; Xander had yet to truly object to anything that was happening, so confused that he couldn't figure out how to say no. *** When Spike's hand slid further down, Xander yelped and pulled away. "Hands! What do you think you're doing?" Spike pulled his hand back and looked at him, and Xander felt like he should apologize or something. Then he shook his head. He wasn't the one touching where he shouldn't be. *** Spike modulated his voice to the one Angelus had used so effectively, the one Dru could never quite manage, that humans for centuries had used to put recalcitrant animals into their place. "Sit still," he ordered firmly, dropping his hand back into place. Then he looked at the television, sipping his beer slowly. "Now. Did you set up the satellite like I asked, or do we still have cable only?" *** Xander froze long enough for Spike to start touching him again. His mind raced, trying to figure out what was happening. "Satellite? Cable? What?" he asked, feeling confused and a little nervous. "Satellite TV, pet. Did you get it?" Xander shook his head slowly. "No, just cable..." Spike snorted in something that sounded like disgust and flipped stations again. Nervously, Xander lifted his beer, only to realize that he didn't dare drink the rest of it as fast as he'd like, because Spike had told him not to. *** "Just sip slowly," Spike ordered off-handly, attention still firmly on the television. "This is a good brand, pet, and you've got to learn to savor it." A good, expensive brand that Spike had suggested Xander buy over a month ago. It'd taken Xander a good week or two, but soon enough when Spike snuck into his place or went home with him after meetings -- innocuous, of course -- the better stuff was waiting in the fridge, several more six-packs in the cupboard for later, exactly as Spike had requested. He wasn't quite sure how Xander could continue to play so clueless, but again -- no skin off Spike's nose. In fact, the constant surprise was something of an aphrodisiac. His hand slid further between Xander's legs, palm pressed fully against the scalding warmth within. He wasn't rubbing or stroking or otherwise trying to encourage Xander's erection. Just letting his actions goad the boy's reactions, showing Spike which ways Xander needed to be reigned in yet. *** Even as Xander ordered himself to make Spike stop touching him, his legs fell open, spreading wider so that Spike could reach more of his thigh. "Spike? What are you doing?" Xander wanted to pretend that he wasn't understanding correctly - this was Spike just trying to freak him out, that's all. *** Spike tapped his thumb against Xander's sac -- at least, where he was fairly certain it was, given the way the denim stretched and sagged under his palm -- and flipped channels on the TV. "Doesn't matter what I'm doing, does it, pet?" Spike asked with a little bit of edge to his voice. Still holding Xander's groin, Spike handed over his beer. "Get me another, will you? And only soda for you." *** Too startled not to, Xander took the bottle, but made no effort to move, just looking from the bottle to the hand still so casually draped over his balls. Spike made no effort to move until Xander said, "Uh, Spike?" Even then, Spike didn't just move his hand. No, he had to drag his fingers over the beginning of an erection that Xander would rather have died than have Spike discover. Finally, Spike's hand was off his leg, and Xander stood up and made his way to the kitchen. Putting the bottles in the recycling, he grabbed two beers, then put one back and grabbed himself a soda. He wasn't obeying Spike - he wasn't! He just wasn't in the mood for another beer. That was all. *** Spike smirked when he heard the second 'click' of something being set down in the refrigerator. Good boy. Again, blindly expecting the beer he was promptly given, Spike didn't allow Xander to regain his seat at the end of the sofa. Oh, no. This time he grabbed a belt loop as Xander passed him, tugging so that Xander sat down next to Spike, close enough that their thighs pressed together. Then Spike let his hand return to between Xander's legs, waiting to see if Xander would be so helpful and widen them again. *** Xander swallowed hard. Spike's hand was casually possessive, as if he had every right to touch him however he liked. Then his thumb pressed on the seam of his jeans - and just incidentally right into Xander's balls, and he gave up. Spreading his legs, he let out a gasp. "Sp-spike?" *** Spike's hand curled down, not hard enough to hurt but to definitely make his intentions very clear. "Yes, pet?" *** Biting down on his lip, Xander tried not to whimper. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he said slowly, "I w-want you to st-stop, please?" It was too bad his voice cracked on the last word. *** "Hush, pet," Spike soothed, staring a rolling motion from palm to fingers, wave-like as they went back and forth over Xander's hardening cock. "You don't really want me to stop, do you pet? It feels good. You like feeling good. Now just hush and watch the TV, pet." *** He could taste blood in his mouth as he fought not to cry out. Xander couldn't control his hips, though, and he pressed up into the firm touch. *** Xander was trembling as he obeyed, hips gently nudging into Spike's hand. "Shhhh," Spike crooned. "It's all right, pet. You just need to relax a bit, that's all. Relax." One-handed, Spike quickly opened up Xander's fly and slid his hand underneath the boxers beneath. He didn't touch Xander's cock again, just slowly stroking Xander's belly and rubbing above the line of pubic hair there until the boy stopped shivering quite so much. "Does it feel good, pet?" he asked, voice low and coaxing against the lowered dialogue from the television. He ran his index and middle finger through the beginnings of Xander's pubic hair, carding it gently while his thumb found the boy's hip to rub. "Tell me. Does this feel good?" *** The touch was light, fleeting, and Xander arched into it, trying to intensify the sensation. "I-I don't know. Yessss..." *** "There, see? Not so hard to answer me." Spike was still watching the TV, although his body was angled more towards Xander's now, beer resting on the end table. "That's good, pet. Very good." While Xander blinked, brown eyes wide and spinning in their sockets, Spike nudged his hand down more so that he was rubbing around the base of Xander's erection. "It'd feel better with these off, wouldn't it? Take 'em off, pet. Jeans and boxers, there's a boy." *** Xander shuddered as those clever fingers stroked over the root of his cock. He felt dizzy, hot, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Panting, he tried to get enough oxygen to think. When the hand disappeared, Xander whimpered, hips moving restlessly as he tried to get more touch.. "Jeans, pet." Still whimpering, Xander lifted his hips from the couch and frantically shoved the material down, kicking off his shoes so that he could free his legs from the denim and cotton. Then he sank back onto the couch, spreading his legs wide. *** "Good boy," Spike told him, bypassing the boy's cock to roll and tug at his balls as Xander helpfully widened his thighs for him. "That's very good. I always knew you were greedy for it," he continued, voice a little darker and a little deeper. "Knew you couldn't wait to spread yourself out for me to take. Isn't that right, pet? Isn't this exactly what you want?" *** He couldn't stop the whine that rose in his chest as his balls were skillfully played with. It felt so good, but there was part of his brain screaming that this wasn't what he wanted - he didn't want Spike to touch him. Didn't want any man to touch him - he was straight! Then Spike rolled his balls sharply, in a way that Anya never did, and Xander's eyes practically rolled back in his head. "Yessssss..." *** Spike chuckled, well aware that it wasn't a nice sound at all. "Good boy. You like being a good boy for me, don't you Xander? I've noticed it. Been working on you for weeks, little one, slowly getting you comfortable just for this. I'm going to make you come, Xander. Gonna stroke you off with hand and words until you come so hard you cry from it." While he spoke, Spike concentrated on Xander's balls, tugging the sparse curls there, and manipulating them just to the point of pain. Xander was breathing shallowly, two red spots burning bright in his cheeks, eyes heavy-lidded when they weren't squeezed tight, mouth open as he tried to determine if he needed to speak or to breathe more. "And you know what'll happen after that, pet? You're going to be mine, then. My little boy to touch and play with however I want. And you aren't gonna do a damned thing, because you'll love every second of it." *** Xander wanted to object, to tell Spike that it wasn't going to happen. But he couldn't find his words, couldn't do anything but spread his legs impossibly wider so that Spike could touch him wherever he wanted. He was acting like a slut, and he didn't care - he just wanted more. *** Spike let his fingers drop even lower -- Xander helpfully shifting his hips lower into the sofa -- to rub below Xander's balls and flit very gently against the crack. "You can't wait for me to touch you here, can you, pet? You've been begging for it for weeks. Wiggling it at me, against me, showing off like the greedy little slut you are." Xander jerked very lightly at the insult, making Spike's grin grow even more fierce. "You want me to fuck you, don't you, little one? Want to be on your hands and knees, begging me to fill you up. Clutching your ankles as I use you -- cause you want that too, boy. I'm using you right now, and you love it. You want more of it, don't you, little one? Little whore. Look at your cock, pet. Haven't even touched it, and look how hard it is. How wet at the tip. Touch it." *** "I'm not - not a whore, Spike," Xander gasped out, as he fisted his hands to resist the urge to do as he was told. "N-not." *** "Hmmm. That's true," Spike agreed, fingering the edge of Xander's inner cheeks, forearm comfortably crushing the boy's balls at the same time. "You're not getting paid for this. You're a slut, Xander. A greedy, horny little boy. A bitch. And you like doing what you're told, little one. Like it a whole lot. Now touch your cock." His voice wasn't loud, really. Just firm, and controlling, and leaving the boy with no doubts as to Spike's expectations. *** Face aflame, Xander resisted for another minute, but when Spike just continued to pet him, he couldn't do it anymore, and his hand wrapped around his cock tightly. He was harder than he could ever remember being before, and his own touch made him cry out. "F-f-f... Oh, god..." *** "Ah ah, pet, you aren't allowed to come. Not yet. Be a good boy for me now and later I'll get you a ring to help. Touch the tip of your cock, pet. I want you to feel just how wet you are for me. How much you want everything I'm doing to you." Xander was wiggling further down the sofa as Spike's hand slipped further, exposing himself so that Spike could tap very gently at the entrance to Xander's body. He watched, eyes dark and greedy, as Xander ran his fingers over the tip of his cock, panting and shuddering as he did so. "There, now, that was good, little one. A little toy all for me. Taste it, now, pet. Lick your fingers nice and clean." *** Grimacing a little, Xander lifted his fingers to his mouth. The taste was salty, vaguely coppery, and not unpleasant. Sucking his finger into his mouth, he licked it clean as he was instructed to. When he pulled it out and swapped it with another, Spike's eyes dilated slightly. Then he smiled, a little nastily, and the finger that had been pressing lightly suddenly breached him with the tip. *** He couldn't do much, more's the pity. Not until he had lube and a bed to stretch the boy out on. As much as Spike wanted to finger him raw right then, leaving him come-stained and sodden and gasping, eyes empty as Spike used pain and pleasure to manipulate his body -- Spike wanted a repeat more. That meant being more gentle than he preferred, although gentle had its perks as well. Carefully, he worked the very tip of his forefinger and in and out of Xander's body, widening the muscles without truly forcing them to spread the way he so dearly wanted to. "Can you come from this, pet?" Spike asked, leaning forward to lick from collarbone to jaw before nipping slightly stubbled skin. "From the feel of me inside you, rearranging you? I bet you want to, don't you, little one? It'd feel so good. Giving everything up to me the way you know you want to. Are you ready, pet? Anxious for it?" Still playing with Xander's hole, Spike used his right hand to come up and start tugging on Xander's balls again. He knew one good stroke of the boy's cock and he'd be coming, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted the boy to come without his cock being touched, something that always impressed blokes who'd never had it done to them before. *** It felt weird, but it didn't hurt. And all sorts of nerves that Xander didn't even know he had were sitting up and begging for more. His cock was hard and tight against his belly, drooling steadily. "Want... pl-please, touch me, Spike. Need to c-come, please?" *** "Hm, pet?" Spike purred, rubbing his lips at the point of Xander's jaw again, casually confidant that Xander wasn't going to jerk away at all. The hand playing with Xander's balls tugged just sharp enough that the hardware in Spike's head flared, then settled again as Spike began rubbing the boy's stomach. "You can do better'n that, pet. Tell me what you are, little one. Tell me what I am." *** "I-I-" Xander's head spun, as he tried to figure out what Spike wanted him to say. He was completely lost in the sensations of what Spike was doing - it felt like he had at least three hands petting and stroking him. Then the clever hand on his balls twisted again, and Xander became frantic. "I'm... I'm a sl-slut, a bitch, a l-little b-boy... God, Spike..." "What am I, pet?" "I don't... I don't know!" Xander almost wailed. *** "What do little boys need, pet?" Spike said, almost crooning as he scratched Xander's stomach before rubbing around the base of his cock again. "You are a little boy, pet. A very good little boy for me. Who are boys good for, hm? What do greedy sluts crave? Come on, pet. I know you know this." Xander thrashed a little on the sofa, and Spike immediately backed off, leaving everything but the tip of his finger inside Xander's body until the boy calmed down. "There's a boy, come on, calm down. Good boy. Look at your cock, little one. See how hard it's leaking. Watch that, now, keep your eyes on it. What am I, pet? What does a bitch need, to keep her in line? To give her the things she's too stupid to get on her own, the things she needs." *** Xander pressed down on the finger still inside him. He still wasn't sure what Spike was going for, but there was one thing that his mind locked on to. Little boy. Who are little boys good for? "Da-daddy?" Xander blurted out, hopefully. *** It was the tone that really did him. Not just the phrase -- he had a whole raft of choices, from sir to master to the favorite Xander had chosen -- but the eager little voice that so desperately wanted to be right. Spike swallowed back a harsh groan, pushing his finger just a little bit deeper. "Good boy," he said, hearing the strain in his voice. "That's right, little slut, you're being very good." Finger still inside him, Spike used the heel of his hand to rub against Xander's body in an awkward massage Spike knew would feel good. "Open my pants, little one. Take me out, nice and slow." *** Hands shaking, Xander reached over and tentatively unbuckled Spike's pants. Then he had to take a deep breath, because this was big. This was huge. This was life changing. Up to this point, Xander could claim that everything had been done to him. If he reached into Spike's pants and pulled out his cock, though, he was choosing to do it. He couldn't deny what was happening anymore if he did this. Then Spike's thumb pressed into the seam of his balls, and he couldn't not do it. Carefully, he pulled out Spike's hard cock. It filled his hand, soft skin over steel, and as wet as his own was. *** Spike nipped the boy's jaw again, sucking the red mark that immediately bloomed while Xander's fingers convulsively tightened around him. "Very good boy," he purred. "Eager little bitch, aren't you? Yeah, I always knew you were, pet. Knew you wanted this so much." Spike shifted a little to ease the strain on his arms. Xander's hand moved with him, not stroking his cock, just holding it and getting used to the feel of it, which was perfectly fine by Spike. Xander'd done the important bits, so it was time to reward him. Removing his finger, he slicked it in the viscous fluid that leaked from Xander's cock, pressing it in to the first knuckle. Xander jerked, gasping, eyes nothing but black as Spike removed it and began lightly finger-fucking him. His other hand returned to Xander's balls, rubbing and massaging them in encouragement. "You've been aching for this, haven't you, little bitch? Waiting to be taken, to be shown exactly what you are. What are you, pet? Tell me." He started upping the tempo, forcing Xander closer to orgasm. *** Xander's back arched until it cracked as he tried to get more of that touch that felt so good and so forbidden. "I'm a b-bitch, a good little b-bitch." "More," Spike said, as Xander shook from the orgasm that he could feel approaching. Suddenly, as if the floodgates had opened, Xander couldn't stop talking. "I'm a slut, a bitch, a little boy. Need it, want it... Fuck, Spike!" The last word was a shout of desperation. *** Spike immediately slapped Xander's arse. Not hard enough to make the chip do more than sparkle, but still enough to make Xander jump and cry out in surprise. "wrong, little boy," he snarled, pushing his face right up into Xander's, his finger as far as it would go, Xander's balls held in a tight vise. "What am I, little bitch? What are you?" *** When Spike's finger slid even further in, the only thing that stopped Xander from coming right then and there was the tight grip he had on his balls. Xander squirmed, trying to get more of that touch. So close, he was so. Close. Then there was another slap, and Xander cried out again. "Daddy, you're my daddy!" *** "And what does that make you, slut?" Spike said, darting forward to bite Xander's lower lip. "Hm? You're nothing but a greedy bitch, a desperate slut of a little boy, aching for his Daddy. But what else are you, bitch? Tell me." *** "Yours! I'm yours!" Xander cried, hoping desperately that was the right answer. *** Spike bit his lower lip again, growling directly into his mouth, "Good boy. Now come, bitch." *** Xander practically screamed as the vise grip on his balls relaxed just enough to allow him to come, hips pumping his cock into the air. *** While Xander shuddered and bucked, sobbing out each breath as he slowly came down, Spike removed his finger and wiped it on Xander's shirt. It was clean, thankfully, but Spike did it for the gross out factor more than anything. Sitting up straighter, Spike crooned to the gasping boy, pulling him so that Xander could rest his head on Spike chest and shoulder, half-curled up on the couch. His shirt was speckled with come, a little bit sliding down the length of his throat -- it made him look very tan and fit like that. Spike brushed at it, then brought it up for Xander to suckle, the boy doing so automatically. "There," he soothed, rocking just a little. "Such a good boy for me, pet. My good boy. You liked that, I know you did, little slut. That's right, calm down. Calm down now, pet." *** Xander couldn't seem to catch his breath, wheezing and hiccupping. The meaning of what had just happened crashed over him, wiping out his normal post-orgasmic buzz and making him frustrated and confused. Spike continued to pet and stroke him, telling him what a good boy he was, but Xander wasn't calming down, no matter what he did. *** Spike waited while the boy settled some from his orgasm -- and then predictably started reacting to what just happened. Air whistled between his teeth as he sucked in air, chest heaving even as he continued to cling to Spike, hiccuping the way a child might after crying too long. Fortunately, Spike knew just the thing. "Oh, I know," he said, allowing a hint of mockery to curdle the soothing tone. He cupped Xander's face, rubbing his thumb along the jaw joint before pushing Xander down. Not all the way down. Just... closer. "All upset, aren't you, little one? That's okay, I know what'll calm you down, baby: suck my cock." *** At first, Xander shook his head, folding his lips. He couldn't - didn't Spike understand that? Spike pushed lightly on his head and repeated his instruction in that same soft, patient tone, though, and all Xander could think was that Spike had just given him the best orgasm of his life. Why couldn't he do this? Just, stick out his tongue and lick it once or twice and then he could say he'd tried it and didn't like it. That would be fair, wouldn't it? Before he could think about it any further, he'd taken a deep breath and licked the head of Spike's cock. *** Spike threaded his fingers in Xander's hair, sighing softly as the boy obeyed. He wasn't trying to force Xander -- oh, no, this little filly had to be led very carefully -- but he wasn't about to let Xander do anything stupid like try to bite him, or jerk away. "Isn't that better?" he said. "Take the whole head in your mouth, little one, that's right. Isn't that better, little one?" *** It didn't taste bad, and Xander opened his mouth a little wider, taking the head of Spike's cock into his mouth. Suckling it softly, Xander found his breathing slowing, his heart calming. When Spike asked again if it was better, Xander nodded slightly, not letting go of the cock in his mouth. *** Wet sounds of sucking filled the room, the TV long ago muted so that Spike could hear every gasp and groan Xander made. He stroked Xander's skull, petting him, as a little more of his cock was taken within Xander's mouth. "Knew you were a born cock-sucker, pet. Makes you feel nice and calm, doesn't it? Makes you feel good. Take a little more, bitch. That's right." *** Xander tried to take Spike deeper and choked a little. Shifting slightly, he tried again, this time managing to get about half of Spike's cock into his mouth. Wrapping his hand around the base of it, he tried to remember what he liked about getting blowjobs. Moving slowly and cautiously, he started to bob his head, trying to tune out what Spike was saying, because he knew he should be upset over being called a cocksucker, but he couldn't. So he tried to focus on doing the best job he could and pretending that he wasn't blushing. *** As Xander grew more enthusiastic -- boy was actually curling his tongue in a way that felt damned good, a legacy of Anya's probably -- Spike leaned back against the sofa, one arm stretched out along the back of it. The other continued petting the boy's head, rubbing cheeks that bulged with his cock, absently massaging Xander's neck and back -- basically gentling the boy and treating him like a puppy you stroked more for your own comfort than its. "Gonna be doing this a lot, little one," Spike told him absently. "Gonna see you're damned good at it. Teeth are all right, pet, but if you bite me I'll make you regret it." *** Xander whimpered as he pressed up into the caress. As he started to relax, he found he could take more and more of Spike's cock into his mouth and throat. Then he got overconfident and tried to take too much, choking and coughing. *** Spike slid his arm around Xander's torso, helping him sit up. He chuckled at Xander's mulishly unhappy expression, leaning forward to bite the same spot on Xander's lower lip as before. He could taste bitter precome and licked where he'd just bitten. "Easy, little one. Got lots of time. Can you breathe all right? Good boy. Back you go, cocksucker, nice and slow." *** Xander bit his tongue at being called a cocksucker again, but didn't say anything. What could he say? He was the one with his mouth on Spike's cock, sucking it and licking every inch that he could fit in his mouth. *** Spike returned to absently caressing and massaging Xander, enjoying the wet heat that encased him. Sucking really was calming Xander down, confirming Spike's belief that the boy had the mother of all oral fixations. Give him something to suck on and he was happy as a baby with its bottle. This wasn't really so much about getting off, but as Xander slowly grew more confident Spike wasn't above making little noises to show his appreciation for something. Rarely, he had to yank on Xander's hair or tap his face on one side or the other in reprimand, but mostly ... the boy really was a damned fine cock-sucker and Spike was vocal with his praise. *** Every time Spike moaned or sighed in pleasure, Xander relaxed further. He was already well past the depth that had caused him to choke once, and as he moved on Spike's cock he finally managed to get his face down to the sparse hair surrounding it. Spike's cock pressed down his throat, and Xander groaned at the feel. The little Xander voice that lived in his head was babbling - torn between outrage at the things that Spike was saying and pleasure at how well he was doing. *** Spike growled when Xander managed to take him nearly all the way in, rubbing Xander's throat so that they both could feel it. Hell, it was hot: a horny, willing little bitch-boy who not only was obeying him but reveling in everything Spike had ordered him to do. It pushed him damned close to orgasm. "Want to taste me, little one? Want to feel me spill inside your mouth, filling you up?" *** Xander couldn't nod and damn certain couldn't speak, so he did the only thing he could think of - he moaned loudly. *** "Yeah, you want it. A cocksucking bitch, pet, that's what you are. Suck me harder and bob your head a bit. That's right." Spike gripped the back of Xander's neck, forcing Xander to find the pace and movements he best preferred. "Gonna remember this, little one. Because you'll want to do this again, sucking on me like I'm a lolly, and this is the best way to make me feel good." With his right hand he grabbed Xander's, curling warm fingers around his balls. "Help me come, little slut. You want it, yeah? Gotta earn it. Get me off, baby. Be a good boy for me." *** Closing his eyes, Xander focused on the feel of the cock in his mouth. Relaxing his neck, he let Spike guide him in the rhythm he wanted, carefully fondling his balls as he did so. Moaning, he worked his tongue busily. Right now, he wanted to know that he'd done good. *** Spike groaned harshly as Xander gave in, letting Spike move and use his body as Spike wanted. "Yess," he hissed. "That's right, little slut. That's perfect. An obedient, willing bitch ..." He would've said more. He wanted to say more, enjoying the way the words turned winter-cold on his tongue before he finally spoke them, the way Xander shuddered as he was belittled and used -- but Spike was coming too hard to do anything but moan as he filled Xander's mouth with his release, hand locked around Xander's neck so the boy would have to swallow at least some of it. *** He tried to swallow as much of Spike's come as he could, but he ended up choking on it a little, and had to pull back against the restraining hand. He couldn't help the little moan as Spike finally released him, and he didn't even try not to give a parting lick to the softening cock. Sitting back up, he stared at the floor, knowing that his face was bright red and his lips coated in white. He wasn't sure what Spike wanted him to do now. *** Sated in ways he hadn't been in ages, Spike groaned and let his head fall back against the sofa. "Good bitch," he praised, curling a hand around Xander's cheek and chin. His thumb collected some of his come and pressed inside Xander's mouth. He carefully didn't order Xander to do anything -- And grinned, very pleased when Xander obediently began to suck the slick fluid off Spike's thumb. "Very good little bitch. I knew training you would be worth it. Gonna make a very good pet, pet. Now, then, go get yourself fed and show me where we'll be sleeping, yeah? Knackered, and I'll bet you are too." *** Xander nodded sleepily and stumbled to his feet, tugging his shirt more firmly around himself. In the fridge, he found some leftover pizza that he inhaled cold, and then he led Spike to the bed. *** Satisfied that the boy had eaten enough, Spike let himself be led to the bedroom. It was a cozy little place, thankfully, spare in furniture except for a very large, very comfortable looking bed. He checked the windows, glad to note that there were already very thick, heavy blinds on the windows. Spike lowered them, enjoying the way the braided cord sped through his fingers. Xander was shifting nervously from foot to foot near the bedroom doorway, clearly uncertain as to what was going on. "Go wash up, little one," Spike told him, stripping off his own shirt and testing the mattress -- firm, good. "Then take off that shirt of yours and come to bed, yeah?" *** Gladly retreating to the bathroom, Xander used the facilities and washed his hands and brushed his teeth. Evening routine finished, he went to pull off his t-shirt to put in the hamper, but stopped. Why was he doing what Spike told him to do? Why wasn't he objecting loudly and throwing the fangless one to the curb? He didn't want to think what it meant, but now that he'd started he couldn't stop. Leaning against the bathroom counter, he tried to piece everything together, tried to figure out when things had gotten so far out of his control. *** Spike kept his pants on, waiting for the boy to come out. When the sound of water stopped, the slow and steady drip the only sound beyond Xander's heart, Spike sat up and stared at the bedroom door. Oh, he knew what Xander was doing; the boy wasn't all that stupid, and while he was more suggestible and desperate for approval than anyone Spike had ever met -- he wasn't a push over. Good, that. Pushovers weren't much fun. After a few minutes turned into nearly ten, Spike rose and opened the door, leaning casually against the jamb. Xander was standing there, shirt still on, staring at the floor with his eyes dark and alive with curiosity and wonder. Fear. And a bit of hopeless self-disgust that Spike knew he could easily work to his advantage. Curling himself around Xander's body, Spike rubbed a thumb down the strong line of muscle in Xander's neck before threading his fingers in damp curls. "Gonna spend the whole night standing in here, little one?" *** Xander shivered at the casually possessive touch. It felt good - that was the hell of it. His mind spun in all sorts of directions. The worst part was that he was completely lost in the touching - no one had touched him like this since he and Anya split, and that was what he missed the most. But he didn't want to be involved with Spike and he certainly didn't want to be his bottom-boy. "I'm not your little one, Spike - I'm bigger than you, remember?" *** "Doesn't stop you from being little," Spike said as Xander's head lowered and bent to one side so Spike could touch and play as much as he wished. The subconscious movements were always the ones that got to Spike the most, the way Xander adopted the perfect pose of a submissive without even trying. His cock twitched as Xander exposed his neck to Spike, but Spike ignored it; there'd be time for that later. Now, he moved up closer to Xander, other arm sliding around Xander's waist to pull him closer -- being mostly ambidextrous had its perks. Cuddling and petting the boy, Spike waited until Xander's body relaxed before cupping and fondling the softened cock. "Telling me you didn't like that, pet?" he asked, voice a low, soothing rumble in Xander's ear. "Didn't like me touching you, showing you how good it can feel? What'd you call me, little one? Remember that? Say it again. Remember how good it felt." *** Xander couldn't help the soft whimper that rose in his throat at what Spike was doing. It felt so good, so gentle and yet so demanding at the same time. Tipping his head even further, Xander tried to get more of the touch without saying anything, but the hand that Spike had in his hair tightened and tears pricked his eyes at the pain. "D-daddy." *** "That's right, little one," Spike told him, abandoning Xander's cock to tease and fondle the boy's balls instead. He was very sensitive there, evidenced by the way Xander's legs widened to give Spike more room. "It feels good when you call me that, doesn't it? Say it, little one. Tell me how much you like it." *** Spike's wicked hands were slowly driving Xander out of what was left of his mind. Each soft touch was just perfect in its intensity, and the part of Xander's brain that wouldn't shut up was saying so that's the advantage to a lover who's more than a hundred years old His voice was soft and cracking when he finally managed to force it to say something, anything. "Dad-daddy. It... feels good, feels... safe. But it's not!" *** Spike brushed his lips over Xander's ear, humming a quiet tune until the boy stopped breathing hard again. "Why isn't it, hmmm? Not hurting you, little one. Not doing anything to you that you don't like. Am I." It wasn't a question, not with Xander letting his legs spread even wider, allowing Spike to tickle over his perineum. "You like it, little one. It feels good. Nothing wrong with that at all." *** Xander couldn't think why it wasn't safe, he just knew it wasn't. He knew that if it wasn't for the chip, Spike would be hurting him. Just like he knew that he wouldn't stop him. Finally, in frustration, he just gave up, allowing his body to melt even further into the touch. "I- I - don't know. Just... don't stop..." *** "There now, little one. Doesn't that feel better?" Giving the boy's balls a final tap, Spike took a step back. Xander swayed but stayed upright, looking up at Spike like he'd torn the head off his stuffed teddy bear just by not touching him anymore. "Take your shirt off, little one, and then into bed with you. And you should thank me for taking such good care of you, you know. It'd make you a polite little boy." *** Before he could lose himself in doubt or confusion again, Xander stripped off his shirt and then stopped, staring at the floor. "Th-thank you, daddy." Spike smiled and waved him towards the bed, where Xander went, pulling the blanket up over himself, curling into a ball and waiting to see what Spike would do *** Tsking, Spike stripped off his pants before tugging the blankets free of Xander's death-grip and sliding under. "Not much of a thank you, love, but that's okay. We'll work on that." Xander was shivering, out of nerves as well as temperature, but Spike was warm to the point of being toasty. Lovely human heat sped through him in waves, radiating from the boy Spike tugged up against his body, head pillowed on Spike's chest. "You've work in the morning, right, little one?" Spike asked, stroking down to the boy's arse and playing with the firm, rounded buttocks there -- outside, mostly, very rarely brushing against the crack and never actually spreading it. "Gonna have to be a good boy and get yourself up and dressed. Can you do that, little one? Take care of yourself while I kip a bit more?" *** Pride stung, Xander lifted his head to look at Spike. "I get up on my own every morning, Spike. I don't need someone to get me up!" *** Spike smiled indulgently. "Course you don't, pet." *** Xander grumbled but didn't pull away. Spike might not generate heat on his own, but he reflected it, and it felt good to be held. Xander had never felt like he was being cared for before. *** "Sleep, little one. Want you to come back here after work tomorrow. No hanging out with those friends of yours before seeing me. Understand, pet?" *** Grumbling, Xander closed his eyes. He wanted to argue, but between being warm and being tired, he didn't have the energy. "Okay." *** Spike fingered a lock of hair, tugging on it sharply. "Is that how you address me, pet?" *** Xander yawned, unable to keep his eyes open. "Yes, daddy." *** Spike hesitated a moment, unsure if Xander was trying to be sarcastic -- but the boy was clearly mostly asleep, eyes fluttering as he tried to open them, his heart already slowing. "Go to sleep, pet," Spike told him. "Whole new world tomorrow morning." Part Two A Xander spent the day trying to lose himself in his work. He didn't want to think about what had happened the night before and he certainly didn't want to think about what was going to happen when he got home. When the horn blew for the end of the day, he was tempted to go over to Willow's or the Magic Box or anywhere but home, really. In fact he had decided that he definitely wasn't going to go home until he knew Spike wasn't there. Which didn't explain why he was pulling into the parking lot at his apartment, rather than the one at the school. For a long moment he just sat in the car, trying to convince himself to turn it back on and go somewhere else, but instead he got out and went up to the door, waiting outside, trying to figure out what to do. *** Spike had made quite a few calls during the day, easily ferreting out Xander's personal information and credit card numbers -- poor little lamb kept everything neatly labeled in what had to be Anya's handwriting, in a box in the spare room; simple to find and memorize. He kept an eye on the clock, slowing down his arrangements when five o'clock rolled around to make certain the boy obeyed and came home first before going anywhere. He wasn't at all surprised to sense the boy hovering outside the door, heart hammering in his ribcage, breathing elevated over that rushing woosh of the boy's blood. He was a whole gurgling factory of sounds and smells, making it very easy for Spike to note when Xander started pacing, growing more agitated with every step. Spike wasn't going to open the door, though. Oh no. It was time for Xander to acknowledge who owned him. *** Xander finally decided that he'd come home to throw Spike out. There was going to be no repeat of last night, there was going to be no arguing, no touching. Spike was just going to have to get out. That's all there was to it. Flinging open the door, Xander started to say, "Get out, Sp-" Then he looked at Spike's face, and his mouth went dry. He couldn't do it. The reality of the situation - the fact that he wanted this crashed over him like a wave and he sagged against the door. *** Stretched out over the sofa, Spike waited while Xander tried for the three seconds the want inside him would allow. Poor boy didn't even understand what was going on, so caught up in being confused over being 'weak' enough to do this. Spike patted his thigh. "C'mere, little one. And shut the door behind you." *** Xander straightened up and looked behind him in the hall, frantic that none of his neighbors saw or heard what was going on. As soon as he was sure that no one was out there, he stepped in and closed the door, leaning back against it and looking at Spike. "I - I - " *** Spike raised an eyebrow, letting his mouth firm into something that communicated both disappointment and anger without making either obvious. "Asked you to do something, little one." *** Wincing, Xander took two steps into the room and then he couldn't convince his feet to carry him any further. He couldn't do it - he just couldn't. "Little one?" This time there was no question of the annoyance in Spike's voice. "I c-can't." *** "Yes, you can." Spike leaned forward but didn't actually stand up, holding out a hand for Xander. "Come on, little one. Just a few steps and you're over by me. You've been walking for years, pet, it's not so different now. One foot, then the other." It was patronizing. To someone not blitzed on inner fantasies, it would be cruel. But to Xander, as he was right then, it was reassuring without being limiting, enough gentle humor in his impassive voice to help convince him that he could do it, as much as he wanted to do it. "Don't you want to be a good boy for me?" *** Closing his eyes, Xander took a deep breath, then, carefully, one step. Then another, and another, until he bumped the couch with his leg. Opening his eyes again, he looked down into the amused eyes of Spike and tried to smile. *** "Knew you wanted to be a good boy," Spike told him and patted his thigh again. "Sit, pet." *** Awkwardly, Xander sat, trying to make sure that he didn't crush Spike beneath him. *** "Say thank you for helping," Spike reminded him, one arm curling around the boy, encouraging him to relax against Spike, the other worming between Xander's legs to cup and hold him. "Properly, little one." *** Xander didn't even try to keep his legs from spreading under Spike's touch. He knew no matter what he thought about it, his body was going to betray him, so he might as well go along with it. "Th-thank you, dad-daddy," he stuttered. *** "There. Much better." It'd be nice if Spike could just get on with the naughty touching and the encouraging Xander to want to be fucked, but Spike knew words calmed the boy as much as touch did. So he had to talk at least for a little. "Good day at work today? Not sore anywhere?" *** "It was... long," Xander said while squirming and trying to get more of that touch. "I'm tired, but not sore anywhere." *** Spike tightened his grip just long enough to stop the boy from wiggling so much. He wished the boy wasn't taller, since it meant Spike couldn't tuck Xander’s head against his shoulder without contorting him. Ah, well. "Got any plans tonight, pet?" Spike gave him a leading look that clearly indicated the answer should be whatever you want it to be, Daddy -- but what he wanted and what Xander was ready to admit were two different things. *** Xander ducked his head. He could guess what Spike wanted, but he wasn't sure that he was ready for that. "I'm supposed to patrol with Buffy later, but nothing is definite. Is there something you -" his voice cracked, "want?" *** Spike smiled very slowly, well aware that all his teeth gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. "Call her and cancel, pet. Tell her you aren't feeling well." When Xander shifted as if to slide off, Spike clamped his hand down hard over Xander's cock. "Answer me properly before you do, little one." *** Swallowing hard, Xander tried to ignore his blush. "Y-yes, daddy." Spike let go of Xander's cock, and he slid to his feet, wavering for a moment. Then he went to the phone and called Buffy. "Hey, Buff - I'm not going to make it tonight. I'm, uh, not feeling very well after work today, so I'm just going to make it an early night." "You sure you're okay, Xander?" Buffy sounded distracted. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep I think." Now there was no doubt that her attention was someone else. "Oh, okay. I'll patrol with Willow then, I guess. See you tomorrow." *** Spike watched as his boy's shoulders slumped, Buffy easily blowing him off -- as expected -- what with her boytoy around to distract her. "C'mere, little one," Spike said, again curling himself around Xander's body both to enjoy the radiating warmth and to offer Xander the comfort of physical touch. Hand fitting over Xander's cock, he rubbed his thumb against the boy's thigh soothingly. "See, pet? They don't take good care of you, your friends, do they? Oh, no. It's always this or that, distracting them away from you. Leaving you alone. But I'm not leaving you alone, little one. And I've everything I want right here, so there's nothing to distract me. Understand, little slut? They may not want you, but I know what fools they are." *** Xander curled into the touch, spreading his legs wider so that Spike had unfettered access to the most private places. Even as he did, though, he asked, "Why do you call me sl-slut? I'm not, you know." Spike smiled, cupping him a little harder. "You are, for me. Remember?" Whimpering, Xander tried to ignore the blood flooding both his face and his dick. "I guess..." *** "You didn't like it?" Spike asked, pressing his nose against Xander's burning hot cheek and rubbing a little. His hand rubbed a little harder, too, his free left hand slipping inside Xander's jeans to curl against the boy's arse. "Do you not like it now when I touch you?" *** He didn't know how he wasn't passing out, since there was obviously no blood left in his brain. "I liked it. I just shouldn't." *** Spike dug a nail into sensitive skin. "Properly, little one, or I'm taking you over my knee." *** "You c-can't!" Xander looked shocked. "The chip won't let you!" *** Spike dug in a little harder, knowing he was hurting Xander but able to ignore the lightning behind his own eyes. He stared at Xander, level and just a little bit foreboding. "Properly, pet." *** Xander whimpered again, body moving into the touch instead of away from it. "Yes, d-daddy, I l-liked it." *** "Good boy," Spike said, resuming his more caressing touch -- and trying not to grin when Xander shuddered. This was nothing like the boy his friends knew, all the sarcasm and belligerent bits that made him Xander lost to a need so primal it brought Xander back to an almost blank slate. He'd recover, after a bit. Xander was stubborn and sarcastic and belligerent, qualities Spike liked quite a bit. But until he could accept the need inside him, the parts that made him who he was and not who he should be would remain silent. Spike didn't mind. He could wait a very long time, so long as he had this to play with. "That's what makes you a slut," Spike said, turning the conversation back to the original question. "Because you're a greedy little boy who can't wait to be touched and filled by your Daddy. An eager bitch who'll do anything you're told. Aren't you?" *** Xander was already so hard it hurt, and the insulting words that Spike used to describe him just made him harder, made him want to... do something. Crawl on the floor for Spike, hit him, something. Pushing his hips up into Spike's hand, he just said, "Yes, daddy. W - what do you want me to do?" He knew he probably wouldn't like the answer. He also knew he'd do it anyway. *** Making sure Xander saw the pleased smirk -- one part pride, three parts derision -- Spike leaned forward to bite his lower lip hard enough that a drop of blood beaded on torn flesh. "Good bitch," he praised. Leaning back to spread his arms along the back of the couch, Spike said, "Feel like watching telly a bit. So you get to strip down, little one, and then lay over my lap. Oh, and get that black bag over there," Spike nodded to a plain black bag with no lettering sitting on the dining room chair. *** His hand came up to touch his lip, coming back with blood on it. Glancing at Spike's face, he saw only expectation of being obeyed, and for a split instant he wanted to deny it, to refuse just because he could. But then his body chimed in, reminding him of how good he felt the night before, and he nodded and stood up. Fetching the bag first, he handed it to Spike and then slowly stripped off his clothes. The embarrassment of standing there naked while Spike was fully dressed made his erection go mostly away, and when Spike patted his lap for him to lie down he nearly got dressed again. "Do I have to?" he asked, hating how it sounded like a little child's whine. "Yes, little one. Now, lie down like a good little slut." Reluctantly, Xander laid down in Spike's lap. *** Spike dumped the bag over the boy's legs, rummaging around in it for the tube he wanted. Could order anything over the phone, any more, and delivery charges were nothing when you weren't the one paying. Extracting the bottle of gel, he dumped a bunch of it in his palm while absently ordering Xander to turn on the television and flip through the channels until Spike said to stop. Xander squeaked when a cold, slick hand began rubbing his lower back and kneading his buttocks, the channel stuck on some car race. Passable enough, Spike decided as he continued massaging. "Leave it here," he ordered, "and spread your legs a bit, there's a good little bitch." *** The gel was cold on his skin, but slick, and the massage felt good. But Spike's instruction to spread his legs set off an internal battle. Xander knew what Spike was going to do - at least in the abstract. And he couldn't deny that it scared the living hell out of him. When Spike's fingers dipped between his thighs, though, he couldn't resist, and he spread his legs as wide as he could without tipping off Spike's lap. *** "Good boy," Spike praised him. He rubbed slick fingers up and down the crack of Xander's arse. He wasn't watching Xander -- if the boy were to look up, he'd see that Spike was paying him absolutely no attention at all, something Spike knew Xander would do very soon; car races were less than thrilling and having your arse fingered for the first time was at least note-worthy. Slumping more comfortably into the sofa, Spike pressed his forefinger against the entrance to Xander's body. He didn't breach it for a long time, rubbing and smoothing yet more gel over the tight entrance first. He wanted Xander hard, moaning, and desperate before he took the boy. *** Those nerves that Xander had discovered the night before were sitting up and begging as Spike touched him so lightly over and over again. His hard on was back, and even harder than before if that was possible, but when he looked up at Spike, he was a little disconcerted to see that Spike appeared to be paying no attention at all. Well, if he was being ignored anyway... Xander started to thrust lightly against Spike's leg, moaning at the pressure on his cock. *** Still not looking down, Spike used his free hand to slap Xander's ass. "Bad," he said, the same way all good Englishmen knew how to chastise a disobedient dog. *** "Ouch!" The exclamation slipped out. The slap really hadn't hurt - it was more of a surprise than anything else, but it did make him fight to still his hips. *** Spike ignored Xander's reaction, holding still until Xander did -- the boy wasn't stupid, he'd get the message soon enough. And, eventually, the boy did force his body as still as he could. Only then did Spike begin again, rubbing soft, wrinkled skin that wasn't as hairless as he preferred although would be later, dipping the very tip inside to tease Xander into begging for it -- one of the best tricks of torture Spike had ever learned. Make them want it. *** "Oh, god..." Xander tried to spread his legs even wider, trying to get more of that fleeting, too soft touch. When that didn't work, he closed his eyes against the embarrassment of what he was about to do. "Daddy, please?" *** That was what he was waiting for. Still not acknowledging Xander in any way, Spike continued playing with the outer entrance for a few minutes longer -- and then gently eased a forefinger inside. God he wanted to fuck this. To wrap himself in smooth, shuddering heat while muscles worked him like a water massage -- and he better distract himself quickly or he would just throw the boy down and give him the ride he'd been begging for for months. Making an exasperated sound, Spike reached down to grab the remote and tug it out of Xander's hands. He flipped quickly, other hand finger-fucking Xander until muscles started to loosen and then adding another finger. *** Vaguely, Xander could hear the TV changing channels, but was far too lost in what was happening to his body as those long, clever fingers touched him deep inside. When a third finger was added, though, it almost hurt; the pressure more than Xander thought he could stand. "Daddy, please... hurts!" *** Spike glanced down at Xander and sighed heavily. "Are you saying you don't like it, pet?" *** Xander squirmed heavily. "I don't know!" *** Spike glared. "Make up your mind," he ordered, voice wavering somewhere between bored and harsh. It wasn't a trick Spike thought he could repeat, but it made Xander flinch appealingly. "It either doesn't feel good, or it doesn't. Pick one." *** Xander shuddered. Lowering his voice, he tried to make Spike understand. "It feels... too good?" *** Spike knew what he meant, of course. The point wasn't to understand Xander, though, it was to make sure Xander understood exactly what he was supposed to do and not do, to like and to shun. "Can you get used to it?" he asked, sounding long-suffering and about ready to stop all together. He wiggled his fingers just a little, enjoying the way taut muscle spasmed around him. "Can you try to deal with it, like a good slut should?" *** As the fingers moved again, Xander gasped and closed his eyes. Could he get used to it? Did he want to? Then they moved again, and Xander couldn't hold back the groan. "I'll t-try, daddy." *** "Good bitch." Spike began thrusting again, twisting his hand so it was palm up and he was almost flicking his fingers inside of Xander instead of sliding them. It would probably hurt, but Xander just squirmed and groaned a little louder, his cock heavy and wet against Spike's thigh. "I'm going to make you lick that up, you know," he said, conversational except for the dark quality to his voice, like hidden currents that sucked you in when you went swimming in the ocean. "Getting me all messy, pet. It's wasteful, among other things, so when we're done here, you're going to crouch over my legs and lick my jeans nice and clean. Say yes, pet." *** He thought it had hurt before, but it was nothing like what Spike was doing now. This was pain and pleasure tied all together, and he could feel his eyes practically crossing. And the humiliation of being expected to lick Spike's jeans clean was doing something funny to his stomach, making it twist and spin. "Do I have to, daddy?" Spike did something with his fingers that hurt so very good, and Xander capitulated again. "Yes, daddy." *** He said it so meekly; like he was afraid Spike would take away the feeling of fingers sliding in and out of his body if he didn't obey. Good. That meant the groundwork Spike was laying was working. His own cock throbbed at the torture he was performing on Xander's willing body and pretty soon he'd have to have Xander suck him again. Control wasn't really a problem when you were a vampire, but Spike wanted to take his time when he started fucking the boy, and a blowjob would make certain he'd be able to go as long as he liked. But first... He squeezed out a little bit more lube, slicking the way for three fingers to glide in easily, occasionally teasing Xander with the fourth. "Gonna take my fist eventually, slut. Gonna beg me to fill you up till you scream from it. Pick up the bag, whore, and give it to me. I bought you a pressie while you were at work today. What do good boys say when they're given presents?" *** Fist? Spike was going to do what with his fist? Xander twisted enough to look at Spike's face, only to see that same look of implacability. Swallowing his protests, he instead grabbed the bag and pulled it closer, contorting himself to hand the bag to Spike without losing the feel of those wonderful fingers. He was more than a little afraid of what Spike might have bought him. He had a feeling that it was going to be humiliating and degrading - and that he still wouldn't be able to say no. But his mouth betrayed him, saying "Thank you, daddy." *** Spike's fingers brushed over Xander's prostate in silent approval, other hand busy inside twisting, crinkling plastic. He'd already stripped off the packaging of his toys, even cleaned a few so they'd be ready to go when Xander arrived home -- poncy, probably, but Spike wasn't interested in suffering through his new boy getting some kind of infection and ruining their play so early on. Things like that destroyed the aura Spike was creating. With drawing a slim black plug, diamond shape and not appreciably larger than one of Spike's fingers, Spike held it in front of Xander's face. "Suck it, little one. Get it nice and wet for me." *** Xander blinked at the toy, and then looked back at Spike. There was no way he was going to suck that... that thing. He wasn't going to. Period. This was going too far. "No." But Spike simply nudged it up against his lips while his fingers did something inside of him. "I said to suck it, little bitch." When Xander opened his mouth to object, Spike slid the beginning of the toy inside, pressing down on his tongue. Closing his eyes, Xander tried to ignore the humiliation. He knew there was no way for him to get away, and the toy was already in his mouth, so he simply sucked, hoping that it would be over soon. Spike eased the toy a little further in and, as Xander sucked, he relaxed. This wasn't so bad. The taste of rubber was horrid, of course, but he could ignore that and pretend it was Spike's cock instead. *** Whatever this boy's parents had done to him, Spike wanted to give them a bloody medal. The boy just sucked, tension easing out of his body like the sweat starting to bead on his skin, eyes half-closing in pleasure as he nursed at the toy Spike had forced into his mouth. It was almost beautiful, the way Xander sank into whatever depravity Spike suggested. "Good bitch," he crooned, working toy and finger both into the boy until he was spitted and skewered and roasting nicely against Spike's body. "It's a good thing I like greedy, little one, like you ready and willing for me." He was fully aware when Xander began to rock against Spike's lap, grinding his cock in subconscious need against Spike's thigh as he obeyed. He allowed it for a little, enjoying the way Xander squirmed and wriggled against him, but if it went on much longer Xander was probably going to come -- the boy orgasming was an end goal, of course, since stupefying him with pleasure would keep him pliable. But he came when Spike said he could, and not before. Withdrawing his fingers from the boy's arse, he smirked when Xander moaned brokenly, hips thrusting back to seek what'd been filling him. Spike slapped at the left cheek, admiring the fish-belly white that flared before flushing into redness. "On your hands and knees, little slut," he ordered. "You've made a mess all over me and it's time you clean it up." *** Toy still in his mouth, Xander whimpered. He felt so empty inside, and all he wanted was those fingers back in his ass. Vaguely, he knew he should be ashamed. He was doing everything he could to beg Spike - Spike - to stick his fingers back inside him, because he really just …wasn't. He was willing to do anything he was told if it meant getting more of that dirty bad touch. So he slid off of Spike's lap, landing on all fours. Spike pulled the toy out of his mouth, leaving him even more empty and pointed at the shiny, wet patches on the legs of his jeans. "Clean it up, little slut." Xander closed his eyes. He could do this - he could. If he did, maybe Spike would let him come. Opening them long enough to let him get close to where his pre-come was smeared all over Spike's lap. Closing them again, he tentatively stuck out his tongue and licked at the rough material. *** Spike inhaled sharply, lust flaring magnesium bright inside his belly as Xander obediently began licking his stained denims. It wasn't really going to clean anything, Spike knew, but that look on Xander's face -- disgusted and hopeful and eagerly desperate -- had Spike's cock pressed up painfully tight against his fly. This boy was bloody perfect. Xander watched him, as he lapped at Spike's thigh, and Spike couldn't help the slow, evil grin twist his features. "Did I say get on the floor, you stupid bitch?" he asked, voice pleasant if you ignored the mockery underneath. "No. I didn't, did I?" Mouth still latched on Spike's leg; wide brown eyes stared up at him before Xander slowly shook his head. "That's right, little one. I didn't. Get back up here." *** Ducking his head, Xander clambered back up on the couch. On all fours on the couch, he dropped his face back down to Spike's jeans and resumed licking up the mess he'd made. *** "Much better." The TV still blared in the background, but Spike's attention was firmly centered on the boy hovering over him now. "You're disgusting, you know. Licking up your own precome from my jeans. Is that a normal thing to do, little one? Don't think so, really. Makes you a slut. A disgusting, perverted slut who loves every second of it." On the word 'second', Spike finished lubing the toy -- boy wasn't ready for saliva alone, yet -- and pushed it inside Xander's body. He wasn't gentle, not with the fingering he'd given Xander before, and because he wanted it to hurt the boy a little; hurting made the pleasure that followed so much sweeter. *** Xander yelped as the toy slid inside him, stretching him suddenly. It didn't really hurt, but it was a surprise, so firm and stiff instead of molding to his insides the way that Spike's fingers had felt. He wanted to object to the cruelly hateful things that Spike was saying - he had told him to do this, after all! - but he couldn't, because if he did, then Spike might stop. Instead, he continued to search out everywhere his cock had leaked and licked up the slick fluid. *** Vibrations from Xander's cry tingled around Spike's cock, making him work to swallow back the groan. Grasping the slick nub at the base of the toy, Spike began working it in and out. "Love this, don't you, little one?" he asked, right hand stroking Xander's hair as he continued to mouth Spike's jeans. "Your arse stretched and filled while your mouth is busy; makes you feel so good, doesn't it? Squishy and warm inside, cock so hard you could come from a single word from me." Spike released Xander's head to bat at Xander's free-swinging cock. "Don't come, bitch. You don't till I say you do, understand? Stop and tell me you understand, little one." *** He cried out at the touch to his cock. Hurt so fucking good that he nearly came just from that, managing to get it under control at the last second. Pulling back from Spike's jeans, he nodded, his hair flopping forward into his eyes. "Yes, daddy, I understand!" *** Spike tucked a sweat-soaked curl behind Xander's ear, rubbing his fingers against swollen lips. "Good boy. Now, gonna give you a choice, little one. You can stay like this and let me use the toy to fuck you. You can go back to cleaning me up. Or, you can find some other way to please me. Your choice, little whore." *** Xander looked up at Spike's face and then back down His face felt hot as he mumbled out, "CanIpleaseblowyoudaddy?" Spike's hand tightened in his hair. "One more time, little one. And slowly enough that I can understand you." Taking a deep breath, staring hard at a spot on Spike's jeans, he said, "Can I blow you?" The grip in his hair didn't loosen at all. "What exactly do you want to do?" Xander didn't think he could get any more embarrassed. "I w-want to suck y-your c-c-cock, daddy." The smile was clear in Spike's voice as he said, "Oh, yeah, little one. Open my jeans and pull me out." Hands shaking, Xander did just that, pulling out Spike's cock and looking at it. He did this last night - he could do this again. Closing his eyes, he took the head of the cock into his mouth with a soft groan. *** Just like before, Xander lost his nervousness the moment his lips closed around Spike's cock, his hand steadying as it gripped the base, mouth wet and warm and so enthusiastic as he tried to slip down like the pro he'd soon be. Groaning softly, Spike forced himself to continuing working the plug in and out of Xander's body. This wasn't the best toy to do this with -- he'd bought dildos, of course -- but it was more fun to use something bigger and thicker in the middle to torment Xander. He rocked it in and out of Xander's arse, occasionally brushing the sensitive skin around his entrance with his fingers. "Such a slut," Spike told him, voice growing harsh with pleasure. "A greedy bitch. Look at you, plugged both ends and desperate for more. Aren't you, whore? Gonna spend hours just like this, pet, spit and skewered. Gonna fuck you soon, little one. Gonna take that sweet ass of yours and split it open with my cock. And you're gonna holler, like the bitch you are. So you know what I'm gonna do, boy? Gonna give you something to suck, just like this. Keep that mouth of yours full twenty four seven until even the thought of my cock in your throat will have you aching to come." *** Xander whimpered at Spike's words, practically wriggling like a puppy. He still wasn't sure about what Spike was doing to his ass, and the idea of being fucked wigged him out something fierce, but he had to admit that he really liked sucking his cock. He couldn't say any of this, of course, and even if he could he probably wouldn't have, but he could show that he liked it by his actions. So he worked his way down Spike's cock slowly, one hand wrapped around the base, moaning and licking everything he could reach. *** His breath burned the back of his throat as he moaned, thrusting up into Xander's mouth. "That's right, bitch. A cocksucking bitch, that's what you are, little one. And you're all mine. Not sharing you out with anyone, 'less maybe I need the dosh. And you'll do it, won't you? You'll do it because your daddy tells you to and because you're a greedy, cocksucking whore. That's right, bitch. Fuck back against the toy inside you, good." Xander was responding to him the way a highly trained symphony responded to a conductor. His own breath streamed into Spike's body, hotter than the mouth that sucked him, cool air sharper when Xander inhaled. Xander was grunting as he sucked, moaning like a cheap tart as every dirty phrase turned him on just a little bit more. *** When Spike thrust up, Xander froze. Oh, god, he liked that. He liked that a lot. Wanting Spike to do it more, but not sure how to tell him, he just held still, hoping that Spike would figure it out. *** When Xander stopped bobbing -- though the boy was still lightly sucking -- Spike frowned down at the dark hair obscuring Xander's face. He combed the lank curls away to see Xander's eye rolling up at him -- hopefully. Like he wanted something but couldn't ask without taking his mouth off Spike's cock to do it, and that just wasn't happening. Not with Spike's new little cocksucker. "Something you needed, little one?" Spike asked. *** Xander nodded as best he could. "Mm, hmm..." *** Spike stilled the toy, using both hands to caress and rub the boy's face. "Yeah? Tell Daddy what you want, little whore." *** Reluctantly, he stopped sucking Spike's cock, pulling up and looking at him. "I want you to..." Here he paused, trying to think how to say it. "Uh, f-f-fuck my m-mouth?" *** Spike's smile was slow and syrupy as he leaned forward to thrust his tongue deeply in Xander's mouth, kissing him possessively. "That's a good cocksucker," he crooned, nearly shoving Xander's head back on his cock. He kept his thrusts shallow at first, testing to see the whether or not Xander could really take it. By the aching groans and a cock that dripped onto the sofa with increased anxiousness, the boy liked it a whole lot. Spike began short, sharp thrusts that took him almost to the back of Xander's throat, fucking his mouth without care or concern. "Good cocksucker." *** Oh, god, this was so fucking good. All Xander had to do was open his mouth wide and let Spike move in him however he wanted. He loved it. Spike's dirty words to him just ratcheted him higher, making him want it even more. He started licking as much as he could, not caring that he was drooling. All that mattered was making his daddy feel good, and then maybe he'd get to come. *** Words petered out into meaningless vowel sounds as Xander opened up more and more of his mouth to Spike. Deep-throating had been something Spike had put off till later, but given the eager way Xander was swallowing down his cock, he might be able to rearrange some things. Spike's eyes slid closed, despite enjoying the sight of eager, sweaty boy accepting his cock, head falling back as his hips picked up speed. Each thrust was accompanied by an urk of breath forced from Xander's lungs, but the boy never complained. His face grew red, his eyes wide as breathing became an issue -- but he never stopped his tongue, never tried to scramble back from Spike's assault. Fucking right. Pressure built from Spike's feet to his spine. "Touch," he ordered tightly, sighing as Xander obediently shifted to rub his sac with a moth-wing's touch, innocent and encouraging and nothing like the possessive twists Spike used on him. Just thinking of that pushed Spike over, managing a curt, "Swallow it," before he was pulsing into Xander's mouth. The boy swallowed as much as he could, choking a little as air and come mixed into the wrong pipes. The position wasn't ideal for swallowing, though, and bits of Spike's release dribbled out over Xander's lips and down the length of his cock to pool in his pubic hair. Fuzzy and sated from his orgasm, Spike still managed to raise an expectant eyebrow at Xander *** Still coughing a little from choking, Xander looked up at Spike, desperate for his own orgasm. But Spike just raised an eyebrow even higher and glanced at the mess around his cock. Oh, yeah. Gingerly, Xander bent down and started to lick Spike clean, not stopping till he only tasted skin. *** Spike maintained his look as Xander finished. "You're a stupid bitch, you know that? Clean up all of me. Base to slit. And when I tell you to do something, you acknowledge it." *** "Y-yes, daddy," Xander said, in a higher voice than normal. He couldn't help it - the more Spike continued to treat him like a young, ignorant boy, the more he felt like one. Starting at the base of Spike's dick, he started to lick; long, gentle strokes that went the whole length of his cock, ending only at the slit of his cock and starting practically at his balls. *** "Enough. Only till I'm clean, bitch, and next time work on the tip a bit more." Xander looked as if he'd been kicked, shivering under Spike's glare. He wasn't really upset, of course. He wanted what he'd asked Xander to do, but upset? With Xander already far along enough that he'd do it without objection? But Xander didn't need to know how well he was doing, not when goading the boy would probably encourage spectacular results. Stretching, he looked down at the huddled figure in his lap. "I've got blood in your freezer, little one. Go heat me up a mug and fix yourself one of the frozen dinners there, too. The ones I bought." *** Xander was so hard he ached but he was afraid to say anything. So he just said, "Yes, daddy," and slid off the couch. Only to come to a complete and sudden stop as he realized the plug was still in his ass. "Um, daddy?" "Yes, little one?" "You, um, left something." *** Spike turned his head very slowly, giving Xander a direct look. "Yes, little slut. I did, didn't I?" *** "Um..." Xander started to ask for him to take it out, but he couldn't make his mouth form the words. Instead, he just stared at the floor and went to the kitchen. Microwaving Spike's blood only took a minute - a minute that Xander spent staring at the selection of frozen food in the freezer and grimacing. Everything in there was not only good for him, it looked like it had no flavor at all. Finally picking one at random, he stuck it in the microwave, and carried Spike's blood out to him. Part Two B Spike accepted the mug as was his due, already making annoyed comments with the show on the television. "You can eat in here, little one, but only if you can sit on the floor and not make a mess. Otherwise, Daddy'll have to punish you." He sipped, enjoying the rich, human blood. Cost a pretty penny on Xander's credit card, and it was stuffed with coagulates, but it was miles better than the animal crap he'd been subsisting on. *** Xander winced at the implication that he couldn't eat without making a mess, but just said, "Yes, daddy," and went back to the kitchen to fetch his meal. Bringing it back out, he sat down gingerly on the floor, only to yelp and come up half way as the plug pushed in even harder. Setting the plate on the floor, he shifted till he was on his knees. Picking the food back up, he started eating it carefully, determined to give Spike no reason to punish him. *** Ten minutes into supper, the boy finally relaxed, accepting his kneeling position -- it wasn't comfortable for him. Only then did Spike let his hand rest on the boy's head, petting him and toying with his hair. Xander leaned into the touch, and Spike said, "Are you hard, little one?" *** "God, yes." His hard on hadn't gone down at all, and Xander wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. *** "Good. Almost finished?" He continued petting the boy, rubbing his neck and the base of his skull absently. *** Pushing aside the plate with the remains of a tasteless supper, Xander nodded, pressing his head more firmly into Spike's hands. "Yes, daddy." *** Glancing down, Spike took in the half-finished meal and closed his fingers around the fringes of Xander's hair. "Didn't finish, little one. Not sure I like a boy who doesn't finish the meal his Daddy's given him." *** "I'm full," Xander lied. He wasn't, really - he just had no appetite with his body screaming at him. *** "Eat it, boy. Now." *** Somehow, Xander managed to choke down the remains of the food, setting aside the plate again when it was completely empty. *** "When I give you something, pet, you'll finish all of it. Understand?" *** Xander grimaced but nodded. "Yes, daddy." *** Quick as a flash, Spike hauled the boy onto the sofa, yanking at his hair and grabbing at his cock in a way he knew hurt Xander -- he knew it because his head fizzled, but didn't actually fire into anything truly intolerable. Spike wasn't sure if the chip understood the difference between discipline and pain, or if it was just weakening; he didn't really care, so long as it didn't interfere too much. Xander cried out, whimpering as his body was twisted up and abused. "Daddy!" he cried out, confused. "You will appreciate anything I give you, little slut," Spike told him, growling into his face. "You don't lie to me, and you don't give me cheek. You gratefully accept anything I chose to give you because I don't have to give you anything. Understand?" *** Confused, Xander hung in Spike's grip, trying not to squirm because that only made the pain more intense. "Yes, daddy!" "Yes, daddy, what, whore?" "Yes, daddy, I understand!" *** Spike looked at the shivering, confused boy laying on the sofa. "You know, I was going to let you come when I fucked you, but now I'm not so sure," he taunted, twisting his palm against Xander's cock. "You don't seem to enjoy what I give you." *** Xander whimpered. "Please, daddy, I'll be good. I need to come. It hurts so bad!" *** Spike twisted sharply, able to just barely ride out the pain from the chip while Xander cried out. "You don't come until I say you do," he ordered, voice low and implacable. "You don't beg for it unless I tell you you're allowed to, you stupid bitch. This is my cock to play with. My orgasm to allow. Not yours." *** "Yes, yours, daddy. All yours!" *** "Again, bitch," Spike ordered. "Say it again. Who's are you? Who owns you?" *** Practically crying, Xander managed to get out, "Yours. I'm yours." *** "'Yours' isn't a person, is it? Who owns you?" *** "I'm daddy's. I'm your little one, your slut, your whore, just please, daddy, tell me what to do!" *** Spike released Xander's red, swollen cock to grasp the base of the toy and manipulate it a little. "Shh, good boy. That's a good boy. Daddy's boy. Not gonna lie to me again, are you, little one? Gonna say thank you for everything I give you. I know you didn't want to be bad, little one. I know. Daddy knows." But Xander was lost in pain and need, too lost to register anything but the soothing tone of Spike's words. He babbled that he was Spike's, that he'd be good, that he was a good boy for Daddy, anything. Spike allowed it for a moment, enjoying the whimpering, almost sobbed comments before straddling Xander's stomach -- only barely raised enough that he wouldn't suffocate him -- and slipped his cock inside Xander's wide open mouth. "There you go," Spike crooned as Xander automatically began sucking, wet eyes blinking up at him in confusion. "Calm down now. Get Daddy nice and hard, okay, little one? Can you do that for Daddy?" *** Xander eagerly sucked on Spike's cock as it slid into his mouth. This may only be the third time he'd done it, but the taste was rapidly becoming his favorite thing. The only problem was that in the position he was in he couldn't do anything, just lick and suck on whatever Spike slid into his mouth. And he couldn't even take much of that because the angle was wrong. Still, when Spike started to grow hard again in his mouth he groaned at finally having done something right. *** Sweat and tear-stains marred stood out in streaks on Xander's flushed skin. He was trying to crane his neck forward to take more of Spike within his mouth, making little grunting noises in between the soft moans of someone doing something he thoroughly enjoyed. Spike cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb over the soft space where his cock filled Xander's mouth. "Isn't that better, now, pet? There now, Daddy'll take care of you." Easing out of Xander's mouth, he smirked as the boy reached after him. "Up, little one. Bring the bag and go into the bedroom." The boy scrambled to his feet, eager to please his Daddy after that brief punishment. Spike waited until Xander looped the bag over his wrist before saying, "Crawl." *** Looking from the bedroom to Spike and back again, Xander thought to himself that this was the sticking point. This was going to be the place where he finally couldn't do it anymore. Then Spike smiled, and all Xander could think was how much he wanted to please Spike and get more of that smile. Dropping to his knees, he started crawling, awkwardly, trying to carry the bag as well. *** Spike thought about suggesting Xander put the bag in his teeth, but Spike didn't have to be cruel. Well, yes he did. It was such fun, after all. But he didn't want to push Xander past the breaking point, so he ignored the way it crinkled as it was dragged on the ground. He followed behind the boy, watching the way pale cheeks swayed back and forth, a hint of black in the shadowed middle. "Look at how pretty you are," Spike told him, leaning against the door as Xander stopped in the middle of the bedroom on hands and knees. "A pretty boy for Daddy to play with. On the bed, baby, on your back." *** Hurriedly, Xander crawled up over the side of the bed and sprawled in the middle, bag to one side. As Spike stood looking at him, Xander could feel the blush creeping over his skin and down over his chest and stomach. "Daddy?" *** "Yes, little one?" Spike approached the bed slowly, stripping off his shirt so he was dressed only in socks and unbuttoned jeans half-hanging off his hips. He knew how sexy he looked like that, the growing light in Xander's eyes yet more confirmation. *** Xander started to ask what Spike was going to do to him - even though he really knew - but then Spike took off his t-shirt, and all that came out was a garbled groan. *** "Did you want something?" Kicking off the denims, Spike knee-walked until he was between Xander's wide-flung legs. He grasped the plug and began working it again, noting the way Xander's cock strained harder, precome staining the boy's stomach. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out the second of ten tubes of lube and tossed it to Xander. "Get your palm slippery. You're gonna make sure I'm good and coated with lube." *** Fumbling with the tube, Xander managed finally to get it open. That was a miracle in and of itself, as his whole body was tied up with what Spike was doing to it. Squirting out far too much into his hand, he looked up at Spike. "Are you going to fuck me now, daddy?" *** "Thinking about it. Would my little one like that? His Daddy's big, hard cock inside his body? Bet you'll like it even more than you like sucking me." Kneeling up and leaning forward, Spike angled his hips towards Xander's hand, nodding for the boy to start stroking him. *** Xander felt absurdly young right now, almost the little one that Spike had named him. "I d-don't know, daddy - won't it h-hurt?" *** Spike made a soft noise as Xander curled his fingers around his cock, stroking gently. Xander's tongue flickered out, licking his lips -- boy definitely wanted to suck him again. Well, Spike wanted to try letting the boy sleep with his mouth around Spike's cock, providing an easy throat to fuck whenever Spike woke. Maybe. Tapping Xander's wrist, he waited until the boy released him, hand falling to his side. "It might, little one. But that's why you've been wearing the plug so long. Did it feel good when I had my fingers up inside you? Spreading your bum?" *** "It d-did. But it hurt, too." Xander was really getting scared - the fingers had hurt some, and Spike's cock was a lot thicker than the plug currently up his ass. Spike looked unconcerned, though, moving between his legs and going back to playing with the toy inside him. *** "Hush, little slut. You were born to take this, to let me inside you. You'll do fine. Learn to love the pain." The plug made a wet, squishing sound as he was tugged from Xander's body, popping when it was totally free. Spike positioned his legs so they were in the air, rubbing his palms against the boy's buttocks so he could push both thumbs into Xander's body. Xander immediately jerked, but for all the pain it may've caused, his cock twitched too. "If you're a good boy for me, I'll let you come. You want to come for Daddy, don't you?" *** Hissing and jerking as Spike pulled him wide, Xander couldn't help the moan that came deep from his throat as the idea of coming flooded through his body. "Yes, oh, god, yes. I want it, daddy - want it so badly!" *** Spike twisted his thumbs, knowing that would hurt. "Not quite, little one. Not coming for you, you greedy whore. You come for me. For my pleasure. Understand now?" He knew Xander was desperate with the need to come, but this was one lesson Spike wanted etched in Xander's mind with diamond chips. His body was Spike's, and his releases were all for Spike as well. "Gonna ask you again. Want to be fucked, baby? Want to feel Daddy sliding into you, making you his boy?" *** Xander whined and thrashed as pain tore through him. It hurt, but it felt so good at the same time. "Yes, daddy, I w-want it!" "Want what, little one?" Whimpering, Xander squirmed under Spike's gaze. "I w-want you to f-fuck me, make me your b-boy." *** "There's a good slut," Spike praised him. "Hands and knees, pet, arse in the air." *** Hurriedly, Xander turned over. Feeling like a teenager again, he wasn't quite sure what to do with his arms and legs as he moved. Once he was turned over, Spike placed a hand on the back of his neck and pushed till Xander's shoulders dropped to the bed. Xander felt exposed, open. And scared to death. *** "Shh, it's okay, little one." He could smell the fear, like fresh baked bread thickening in the air. He rubbed the back of Xander's thighs, letting his cock rest between the flexing cheeks of Xander's arse. "Relax, pet. Here." Reaching into the bad, Spike withdrew a small plastic dildo. It was the squishy kind, designed to simulate a real cock and not just plug a greedy arse, and bright green in color. "Suck on this, little one." *** Reluctantly at first, Xander took the dildo from Spike, but once he had it in his mouth, he did feel somewhat better, less frightened. So when the head of Spike's cock brushed over his entrance, Xander didn't try to squirm away. He just focused on the fake dick in his mouth and tried to breathe. *** Spike chuckled as Xander immediately settled. "Gonna have to get you a binky, little one. Leave you sucking on that, naked with your cock hard, while I'm off doing grown up things." For all his talk, Spike was still careful to work Xander open and relaxed before starting to ease his cock inside. The chip had been quiescent so far, but Spike wasn't interested in taking any chances -- one good shot and Xander would be jolted just as hard, straight out of his submission. Spike had no intention of allowing that to happen. The head slipped in, Xander tense and unhappy until Spike finally pushed past the tight ring of muscles, sinking almost halfway in rather abruptly. "Good boy," Spike murmured, rubbing Xander's balls while Xander continued sucking away. "That's right, slut. Take me in nice and slow. Gonna love this, you whore. Gonna beg to sit on my lap and bounce your way till I come inside you. That's right. Nice and relaxed now, let Daddy in." *** It felt... weird, but in a good way. Burning and pleasure and pain, all twisted up and together in a mess his brain couldn't separate. As Spike slipped in deeper, he pressed that spot that felt so very good, making Xander's eyes cross. He panted around the dildo in his mouth, trying to keep control over his body. When he could feel Spike's hips pressed against his ass, he groaned loudly. He wanted to ask Spike to move, but he couldn't with the toy in his mouth. *** Spike could feel each wince and flinch as tiny, flaring pains sped through Xander's nervous-system, his body forcibly accommodating Spike's girth. He also felt the moment when he brushed over the boy's prostate -- a goal he was aiming for, teaching his new little whore that being fucked was a very good thing -- and the way Xander relaxed certain muscles and tightened others. He could still hear Xander sucking, wet, obscene noises of his mouth around a dildo, his breath coming out in acridly harsh pants as his hips moved and settled, the toy in his mouth muffling the faint moans of pain -- and then of pleasure. Fully seated, Spike executed a very slow hip-roll, rubbing his skin against Xander's arse, his cock against the heated inner walls. Xander moaned loudly into his toy, head dropping down in a way that meant fluttering eyes and a muffled plea for more. But Spike wasn't going to move yet. Oh, no. He needed Xander to relax just a little bit more, accept Spike a little bit more -- until he started begging for it. "There, little one," he crooned, balancing on his knees as he reached under to stroke the taut stretch of skin between hole and balls, before tugging the hanging sac to the point of pain. "Isn't that better? Nice and full, now, like a good bitch. And you want to be a good bitch, don't you, pet? A hungry slut for Daddy." *** Xander whimpered and squirmed, impaled on Spike's cock, grateful for the toy in his mouth for muffling his more obscene sounds. Spike did another hip roll, pushing in impossibly deeper, and Xander moaned again. He wanted... wanted something, but he didn't know how to put it into words. Instead, he pressed back into Spike. Then Spike started to touch him, and he snapped. Pushing up from the bed, he dropped the toy and started to beg. "Oh, god, daddy, please? Daddy, need it so fucking bad..." *** Ah, sweet music. The whine of need and loathing, desperation and disgust, twined through the words Spike knew Xander wished he wasn't saying, a trellis holding them together. Spike allowed Xander to speak, then squeezed the handful he was still holding -- past the point of pleasure into actual pain. The chip let loose a red-flame of pain that Spike ignored. You could ignore a lot with your cock buried balls-deep in a boy who called you Daddy and begged for more. "Greedy slut. Do little boys swear at their Daddy's?" he asked, honey in his voice making the filth underneath sharper. "Hm? Not very polite of you. Little boys speak politely, even when they're begging. Understand, you stupid whore?" *** Hands twisted in the blankets as pain flashed through his balls. "Sorry, sorry, sorrysorrysorry. Daddy, sorry!" Spike backed off, and Xander just focused on breathing for a moment, head hanging down between his shoulders. His balls throbbed, and he felt lost and confused. "Daddy, please?" *** Spike massaged the balls he's just twisted, rocking a little so that he'd rub the head of his cock over Xander's prostate in the same rhythm. "Shh, little one. That's a good boy. I know you're trying, little one, and you're being very good. I don't like having to punish you, pet. But you have to learn the rules." That was nearly an out-and-out lie as Spike greatly enjoyed the whine of pain Xander made right before he fully cried out, skin shivering like it was a separate entity, face flushed and eyes turning black with submission. Hurt Xander and like any good puppy he came right back for more -- particularly if he was rewarded afterwards. So Spike rubbed and stroked the boy, pleasantly impressed that Xander’s erection hadn't diminished even the slightest when he was hurt. Such a good little slut, Xander was. "There, little one. That's better, isn't it? Is Daddy making you feel good?" He began a very slow rocking motion, not leaving the confines of Xander's arse, but still going back and forth enough that the sensation would be close to what an actual hard fuck would feel like. "You can beg, little one, but you have to be polite. Daddy's doing you a favor, filling your greedy arse. He doesn't get sworn at." *** As if all he was waiting for was permission, Xander began to beg in earnest. "Daddy, please, please... need something so bad. Don't know what, but I need it. Please help me? Please, please?" *** "Do you need to be fucked, little slut?" Spike asked. "Do you want your sweet arse filled all the way up with Daddy's cock?" Pulling almost halfway out, Spike slowly slid back inside; the heat of Xander nearly broke his concentration, instincts clamoring for him to just rut already. "Oh, I know what you want, little one. You want to be come into, Daddy fucking your little body until it's full of his jizz. Is that what you want, little one? Want to be a come-hungry whore? *** When Spike started to pull back, Xander clenched down, trying to keep his cock in his ass, and when he pressed back in, he nearly cried in relief. "Yes, yes, daddy. Do anything you want, just please don't stop!" Spike slid out and in a second time, and the pitch of Xander's begging changed. He was riding a fine edge from the extended teasing, and he didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to keep from coming. He'd never been denied orgasm before, and he wasn't sure that he could do it. "Daddy, need to come, please? So hard it hurts, and I need to come!" *** Spike found a nice rhythm, smiling fondly at the sweat-dotted back in front of him as he thrust in and out. Since he wasn't actually hurting Xander, just denying him until it was painful, the chip didn't so much as sizzle a warning. "Only when you tell me, little one. Do you want it?" *** He'd been saying he wanted it, and still Spike wanted more. Desperate to come, hating himself for what he was about to say, Xander let his voice get higher, younger. "Please, daddy, I'm your little slut and I need you to fuck me so badly. I'm a whore, a slut, your little boy, a cocksucker. Oh, I need to come so bad. My cock hurts, daddy, please!" *** Spike cupped Xander's balls as the litany of perverted, mocking words Spike fully intended to brand into the boy's mind poured out, offering gentle pleasure as reward -- and then twisting sharply at the final plea for his own release. "That's my come inside there," Spike growled. Shifting, Spike rode through the boy's wincing gasp of surprise at the familiar crunching sound, then leaned forward to press cold, hard planes that no mortal could ever duplicate into a sweaty back. "You hurt because it pleases me, little one. And you'll come because that pleases me, too. That said... " His voice trailed off, lips curving into a smile the boy could probably feel as his body lunged backward, against Spike's cock to impale himself even more deeply. "You're still such a little boy, yet, and you're allowed to make mistakes while you're learning. Very well." He spread his knees, settling more deeply into the bed as Spike began to truly fuck. To rut his way into tight, slick muscles that fluttered like a trapped bird around his cock, squeezing a rhythm that wasn't quite what Spike wanted but damned close for the boy's first time. His own body burned and ached as muscles long unused creaked back into existence, warming as he slammed his way again and again into Xander's so-willing body. The bed made alarming cracking sounds, Xander pushed face-first into the mattress with each deep thrust, panting and spluttering as his air was cut off with each rock forward. He wasn't objecting, though. Oh, no, not this little treasure. He was babbling when he wasn't eating blankets, begging for release, for Spike's release. He wanted to draw this out, but the harder he screwed into Xander's body, the higher pitched the boy's voice went, a whine underneath that of true desperation. It was beautiful. Intoxicating -- but Spike couldn't let it go on too long, or he'd end up hurting Xander. So he reached down to gently fondle the boy's cock -- blessing vampiric flexibility and balance -- saying, "What are you, pet? Who do you belong to?" *** Every stroke of Spike's cock pressed hard into that spot that made sparks fly behind Xander's eyes. His whole body was nothing more that a tight, hot tunnel, begging for more, for harder. Xander had long since given up any try to control what he said. Lewd, nasty words slipped out of his mouth, words that he knew he'd be ashamed of later, but now he was just desperate enough that he didn't care. "I'm yours, daddy! Your slut, your whore, your cocksucking little boy! I'm whatever you want me to be. Do anything, be anything if it makes you happy. Just please, tell me what you want me to do!" *** "Am tellin' you," Spike grunted, leaning down to nuzzle at the boy's back again. "Tellin' you that you're mine. You're Daddy's stupid little whore, a greedy cockhound that's gonna let Daddy fuck him whenever and however he wants. Without question or complaint. Say it, cunt. Tell me you're mine." He could feel it building in his gut, little tendrils that came from the soles of his feet and the top of his head, creeping down his nerves to center around the base of his spine. "Say it, boy. Believe it, and Daddy'll give you what a slut like you needs." *** The feel of Spike's vampiric features pressing into his back made Xander cry out. His balls were pulled up tight against his body, and he could feel his orgasm coming whether or not he wanted it, and oh, god did he want it. "Yours. I'm yours, will do what you want, will do anything you want. Yours, yours, yoursyoursyoursYOURS." His voice was practically a shout, as he throttled his body back desperately in an effort to be good. *** "Good boy," Spike crooned. "That's my good boy." Breath hitched as his body screamed for release nearly as bad as Xander's, Spike thrust forward three more times -- and inhaled sharply. His orgasm felt like being dragged through ice, jagged and cold and perfect as he spilled himself into Xander, cementing the boy as Spike's. Well. One last thing. Barely coherent enough to do more than moan and jerk against Xander's body, Spike held Xander's cock -- not tight enough to block anything, but in a clearly possessive grip -- and murmured, "Come now". *** Spike's hand - cool and hard - surrounded his cock, and Xander couldn't hold back any longer. Spike's words were lost in the scream of release as Xander spasmed, coming so hard it hurt. Vaguely, as if far away, Xander could feel Spike coming inside him, and it made his own orgasm even more intense. *** Spike couldn't help jerking a few more times into Xander's body, enjoying the too-tight pressure as Xander's muscles clamped down as he, too, came. Spike kept his hand on Xander' cock, aiming it as much as he could -- couldn't see it, after all -- at the boy's chest and belly and probably even chin if the jerk of surprise was anything to go by. It took a long few minutes before Spike was able to do more than pant like a steam-engine into Xander's back, and the boy was still lost in his own release. Perfect. Spike moved Xander's legs, unbending them so that they went into a controlled fall -- an arm around Xander's middle keeping them joined -- onto the bed, Spike plastered to Xander's back but in more of a spoon so he wasn't leaving his weight to suffocate him. That'd come later, when Xander understood more fully that his new Daddy was more important than breathing deeply. He worked the last few drops of come out of Xander's cock, then rubbed his fingers up the boy's heaving belly and chest, slicking his fingers. "Here, love," he said, soft and cajoling as he pressed his wet fingers to Xander's mouth. "Suck me clean." *** Xander moaned softly and took Spike's fingers into his mouth, sucking gently. It soothed his throat, sore from screaming, and having Spike plastered against his back allowed him to get his embarrassment back under control before he was going to have to look Spike in the face. Slowly, thoroughly, Xander licked Spike's fingers free of his own come. This was an act he'd always resisted when Anya had wanted him to do it, but now it seemed so minor compared to the other things that Spike had demanded he do. It didn't taste bad, though warmer than Spike's come, and Xander silently moved on to Spike's other fingers without having to be told. Through it all, Spike remained firmly inside him, keeping him from forgetting that he'd been fucked thoroughly and deeply. Finally, though, Spike slipped free of his body, and Xander groaned at the loss. He was trying to think of something to say - something witty, or sarcastic, or mature. Instead, what slipped out was, "Did I - did I do alright?" His face flaming, Xander half buried it in the pillow. But he was careful to make sure he could still hear, because he really wanted to know. *** Spike didn't bother to muffle his chuckle, letting the warmth of it vibrate into Xander's back. "Oh, my poor pet," Spike crooned. Propping himself up on one elbow, Spike gently turned Xander so that he was on his back -- although the boy kept his head faced away from Spike, cheeks sunset red with embarrassment. "Pretty boy. Here, have some more." He scooped up another finger full of drying come, slipping it between lips that eagerly opened to accept him. Using that hold, Spike forced the boy's head towards him. Xander immediately lowered his eyes to the point of closing them and blushed brighter -- but he suckled like the eager little orally-fixated boy Spike had discovered him to be, cleaning each finger and allowing Spike to feed him yet more. "There, now," Spike told him. "Came hard enough to see stars, didn't I? Filled you up with Daddy's gift. Did it not feel good, little one? Did you not like it when I made you mine?" *** Nodding, Xander continued to suck on Spike's fingers, making sure that they were clean. He could feel Spike's release leaking, and blushed even harder. It was a good thing he'd come, because there wasn't enough blood in the world to provide for both this blush and his hard on. Spike seemed to know that he was sucking rather than answer his questions, because eventually he pulled his fingers away, laughing as Xander tried to follow them. "Now, little one, answer the question." "I-I liked it. But did I do it right?" *** Spike tweaked Xander's left nipple, rubbing the backs of his nails against it to soften the sharp twist of sensation. "Properly, little one. If little boys don't behave they get punished, don't they? Daddy's job. And I'll punish you if I have to." Xander's eyes weren't very large in his face, but round and wide like this they looked almost bulging. Sighing, Spike again offered the boy another finger full, waiting as the almost instant lassitude and peace calmed the boy back down. "You did fine, little one. A perfect bitch for Daddy to fuck. Made me come nice and sweet into that pussy of yours." *** Xander winced at Spike referring to his ass as a pussy. He wasn't a girl. But taking another step down into the degradation that Spike seemed determined to take him, Xander didn't argue. Instead, he nuzzled in closer to him, trying to get as much contact as he could. "Thank y-you, d-daddy." *** Spike let himself look disapproving as Xander cuddled closer, waiting until the boy winced and started to draw back -- then sighed and tugged Xander against him. He enjoyed afters as much as anyone, but establishing boundaries and rules were almost more important right then. And rewards -- couldn't forget those. Particularly as Xander had only twitched a little with the newest term Spike used, and then thanked him like a good boy. "You're welcome, little one. Now go to sleep. Got work in the morning and you'll need a belly-full of come first." *** Xander allowed himself to be arranged on Spike's shoulder and closed his eyes. This part he had no problem with - he'd missed touching and being touched more than anything else. He almost blinked his eyes back open at Spike's blasé instruction, but then mentally shrugged. A blow job was hardly the worst thing Spike had demanded of him, and somehow he thought what he'd done so far wasn't going to be the limit either. "Yes, daddy." *** "Sleep now, little one," Spike said, idly stroking Xander's hair and neck, running fingers down his shoulder and back when the whim took him. Rationally, Spike knew that touching Xander gently would only bind him more firmly to Spike, the affection-starved boy greedy for reciprocation of the touches he gave to his friends so generously. Privately, though, Spike knew this was purely for him, regardless of what it would do to Xander. He liked to touch. He liked to stroke down hair that wasn't quite silken -- someone would be switching shampoo, soon -- but was thick and rich and heavy against his fingers, to rub against smooth skin that was still drying, muscles lax and heavy with satiated comfort... Well. It was just a good thing that Spike had an ulterior motive to blame it on, if Xander ever decided to ask. Not that he would. Closing his eyes, he listened to the waterfall-rush of blood pumping inside his boy, breath warm against his neck, the weight of him solid and comforting against his body. Xander was asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the evening, and Spike knew sleep would find him soon enough, too. He wasn't precisely exhausted, but he was tired enough to welcome the silent black fingers that would wrap him up... "Good boy," he murmured when Xander started to suck on Spike's neck in his sleep, mindlessly drawing on flesh -- teeth soft and delicate as they closed around his skin -- curling even closer to Spike. "Get you up and showered and dressed, boy, then send you to work with my come still shining on your mouth. And I won't even have to do anything, either, will I? Won't even have to tell you what to do. Mmm. Such a good boy... " Spike drifted off with Xander's praise on his lips, and Xander's debauchery in his dreams. Such plans he had. Part Three A It was an interesting feeling, watching this all unfold. It'd started out so well, Xander obediently letting himself be pressed up against an alley wall, cock teased in its ring while Spike ground himself against his thigh and reminded Xander of all the things he was to do; Xander gasping and saying 'Yes, Daddy' at every interval. The boy was nothing but putty in his hands, as greedy as Spike had first called him not two weeks earlier, and far more comfortable with that fact. Not totally comfortable, though. It wasn't fun if Xander wasn't humiliated by his needs. He just wasn't fighting it so much -- particularly after Spike proved that the chip would allow him to punish Xander. The boy didn't know that there were limits to what Spike was allowed to do, and didn't need to. The spanking had been fun, but the most effective punishment was denial: cease the mixture of insults and praise that Spike liberally bestowed on him, deny him any physical comfort -- both his own release and Spike's -- and the boy was a whimpering mess of sorries and promises to be good next time. Spike found it particularly pleasing that boy hadn't even wanted to come, after two days of not touching Spike. All he wanted was Spike's cock and Spike's come inside him, assuring him that he was still Daddy's good boy. But as good as the last few weeks had been, this was pretty much a disaster. Xander had played his role exactly, pretending that their relationship was more a meeting of equals, Xander discovering he was gay and Spike the dutifully kind boyfriend. They'd even held hands, Spike foregoing the casual possessiveness that never failed to turn them both on in favor for the kind of nervous affection the Slayer and her toy so often showed each other. It wasn't even the 'vampire' that was affecting them so badly -- although the Slayer, predictably, couldn't see much past that. No, it was Willow who was the biggest problem. The big eyes she gave Spike's boy, full of a sadness that Spike knew had to be calculated, a whine in her voice that wasn't the slightest bit genuine. Red was blaming herself for Xander's "predicament", so certain that if she'd just paid a little bit more attention, or maybe even hooked up with him back in high school, Xander would be on the straight, narrow, and vampire-free romantic life. She was talking about finding whatever had cursed him, carefully not looking at her girl -- who was just as carefully not looking back. Any other time, and the thought of those two squaring off would be extremely entertaining. Right then, Spike was too caught up in Xander's reaction to pay any real attention to the little wiccas. Part of him was amused. Poor little lamb was trying not to sink into his seat, fighting back with weak, kitten-like jabs that did nothing to show him to be ineffectual at best, as stupid as Giles was implying at worse. He looked utterly precious like that, lost and confused without the option of turning to his Daddy for comfort. Delicious. Spike couldn't wait to get him home and fuck him raw, cementing the boy's dependence on him. The only problem, however, was that amusement and anticipation wasn't all Spike was feeling. There was also anger -- anger at the Scoobies for hurting what was his. And that... wasn't precisely in the plan. Spike was supposed to graft Xander to him, train him into the perfect horny pet until the two of them could escape this place and go off and do things together -- maybe even Xander hunting people for Spike to feed from. But that was later, and a fantasy more than anything. Reality should not include the growing urge speak up in Xander's defense more than a slightly ashamed vampiric boyfriend should. *** It took everything he had not to look over at Spike more than the mentally allotted twice a minute. Xander had expected opposition from Buffy - possibly some veiled and not-so-veiled threats towards Spike, an offer to stake him if he didn't treat him well. This, he had no idea what to do with. Willow was hurt, and upset, and it sounded like she was getting ready to take it out on Spike. To everyone else in the room, it may have sounded like her blaming herself. To Xander, who'd known her since they were both in diapers, it was as clear a threat as if she was holding a stake to Spike's heart. "Will, I'm happy. Spike treats me good. There's no spell, no magical mix up. Just me realizing that I'm gay and realizing that I, well, that I like Spike that way. Why is this so hard?" Willow wouldn't look at him, and that didn't bode particularly well. "I just don't want you hurt, Xander." "I know, and I love you for it. But Spike isn't hurting me - he can't, remember?" Xander prayed that they'd mistake his blush for frustration, because Spike had proven more than once that he could hurt Xander, and he had no desire to repeat it because he messed this up, thank you. *** Spike tried to keep a reign on his temper. Tried to enjoy the fact that it was Red Xander was fighting with the most, while the Slayer and Watcher stood by and spluttered. But Xander was getting flushed and sad enough that Spike wanted to spank him just for letting Red affect him that much -- only Spike got that much of Xander to play with. No one else. And that's all this was, he reminded himself. Just didn't like sharing. "I'm still chipped," he said, trying to sound far more patient than he felt. "Can't even pinch him, remember? I'm helpless in this, Red. Can't do anything to him, while he can do a hell of a lot to me." Willow didn't look nearly convinced. Buffy, however, made an eww face to rival a frog turned inside out, looking from Spike to Xander with widening eyes. "So... if you can't -- then how -- I mean, who -- um! I mean, not that I really want to know, but -- it, um. Isn't it -- " That was something Spike had expected and he grinned -- again, not as sharp as he wanted it to be -- finally reaching out to brush his fingers down Xander's arm. "Supposed to hurt?" Spike said, purring a little as he moved back to familiar ground. "S'all right. Demon-girl wasn't kidding about the boy being a viking in the sack. Nice and smooth, he is." The girls blushed, immediately picturing Spike as the bottom -- while Xander, still blushing, was picturing something else indeed. Waxing instead of shaving him was probably unfair for his first time, but Spike wasn't about to repeatedly shave his boy and there was no way Xander could do that, yet. His hands shook too much even at the thought. Not that he was objecting, oh no. Spike's little one loved to spread himself open and let his body be played with: they'd spent many hours like that, Spike watching TV caressing silken skin while Xander tried not to make a single noise. A very fun little game. And Spike knew damned well Xander was thinking of it. *** Xander gulped and tried not to hyperventilate. Just the thought of Spike touching him on skin made so sensitive by being denuded of hair was enough to get him hard, and he didn't want to associate that with Willow and Buffy again, thank you - it had taken him long enough to get over it the first time. Instead, he turned wide eyes back on Willow and tried to convince her that there was nothing for her to magic away. "Wills, don't you trust me?" "Of course I do," she said, then turned a glare on Spike. "It's him I don't trust." "Well, if you trust me, don't you think you should trust me enough to know if there's been a spell placed on me? I like Spike a lot, and think you should leave us alone with it." *** Spike watched as his boy and Red argued, aware that Giles was watching just as closely. Buffy was too disgusted by the thought of Xander giving it to Spike -- and hmm, maybe that was something they'd play with later, a reward for Xander being good as Spike enjoyed a good hard fuck every once in a while -- to see what was going on. But Giles could. Spike made himself look a little bit anxious and a little bit worried as Red wound her way up to saying, "Xander, you never fall for people who're good for you! And I kinda don't think you'd know when you're being spelled, anyway, since it happens so often!" As far as breaking points go, this wasn't exactly a meteor landing between them to smoke and spit fire. But the perceived mistrust and implication that Xander couldn't do much without her to hold his hands was enough to get Xander's back up, his face growing closed and cold as he backed off from her completely. His hands, always a good way to judge Xander's innermost thoughts, stopped playing with each other and occasionally flicking their fingers towards Willow as if in entreaty. Now they were balled into fists, completely still as he glared at her. "Er, perhaps," Giles said, recognizing the signs as well as Spike could. "Perhaps, we're going," Spike interrupted, standing up to move more closely to Xander's side. "Didn't expect you lot to like me -- vampire, tried to kill you, yeah yeah. Seen that movie. But he's your friend. C'mon, pet." He held out his hand, working very hard not to smirk when Xander immediately slid his into place, standing and letting himself be led from the Magic Box. *** As Xander followed Spike out of the shop, he tried hard to keep breathing in a slow even pattern, because if he forgot and let himself go, he was going to be screaming in a minute. He knew that Buffy and Willow didn't think much of him - he'd known that since high school, actually - but he'd never thought that he'd be untrusted by them before. And the fact that it was Willow just rubbed salt in the wounds. But as Spike and Xander made their way through the dark streets of Sunnydale, he was getting more and more upset. He wanted desperately to pull Spike into an alley and ask if Willow was right, if Spike had placed a spell on him, because everything was going too smooth for there not to be one. But Spike seemed determined to get home as quickly as he could, so Xander followed quietly, trying not to make it obvious how upset he was. *** The misery was wreathed around Xander as they walked, growing thicker and more sour with every passing moment. Instead of the bouquet Spike was expecting, though, this smelled more like curdled milk than the intoxicating scent of prey ready to be snapped up. Spike quickened his pace. He was practically dragging his boy, though Xander was too lost in his private ruminations to be aware of it, tripping several times without even blinking too hard. Lovely. He was damned near catatonic with his belief to 'not bother' Spike. Right then. The moment then were inside the apartment, Spike had his boy held against the door, hand around his neck and vamped-out face nose to nose with Xander -- a feat, given their height difference. Xander struggled momentarily, more out of surprise than objection, and Spike shook him the way a naughty puppy was reprimanded. "What's going on in that head of yours, little one?" he asked, voice deceptively mild through fanged teeth. *** Xander recoiled slightly. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Spike vamped out, not by far, but it was surprise to see it now. "I-" Spike shook him again, this time thumping his back against the door. "You know the rules, little one. I ask you a question and you answer. Now, one more time. What is the problem?" "Did you put a spell on me?" "What?" Spike surprised him by sliding out of his vampiric face and laughing. "Did you? Is that why I can't argue with you when you insult me and call me names and why I let you do all these things to me?" *** Spike laughed again, switching his hold so that he was cupping Xander through his pants, rubbing the rough denim on smooth, boxerless skin; immediately, Xander started squirming but never away from Spike's touch. "Oh, no, little one," he crooned, leaning forward to nip Xander's neck. "No spell, or curse, or charm. Not even thrall. I haven't made you do anything at all, little one. I don't force you, don't blackmail you -- nothing. And yet here you are, grinding into my wrist while you let me hurt you." Xander's eyes were starting to glaze over, body relaxing as Spike manipulated it. He made little noises like he wanted to say something, but Spike just shushed him. "Didn't have to do any of those things, little one. Know why?" Xander's head swung back and forth, his legs widening as Spike rubbed harder. "Because you're a whore, pet. You're a slut. A stupid little bitch that craves every thing I've done to you, and can't wait for more. Isn't that right." It wasn't a question, but Spike hadn't forgotten about Xander's lapse from before -- this was his one chance at forgiveness. *** He melted into Spike's touch as he always did. No matter what Spike demanded of it, Xander gave in and he had stopped fighting it for the most part - it was a waste of time when he was just going to give Spike exactly what he asked for anyway. "Y-yes, daddy. I'm s-sorry, d-daddy..." *** "That's all right, then. You were upset, I understand. Undress, little one, and go get me a beer. And the ring stays on, little whore," he added, just to see Xander wince -- he hated the ring so much. Not as much as the cage Spike had bought, but the boy was almost insulted that Spike didn't trust his control. Or that was what he claimed, anyway. *** Xander stripped off his clothes, wincing as the ring pulled softly at the skin at the base of his cock. The ring was tight enough that it wouldn't slip off, and almost a little too tight if he got hard - which, since Spike wouldn't let him wear underwear, was at least three or four times a day. Especially when he sat down. Going into the kitchen, he shivered at the cold air from the refrigerator. Skin that was smooth of hair was also acutely sensitive to changes in temperatures, and it never failed to make him think of Spike's hands on him. Grabbing a beer, he carried it out to where Spike had already settled on the couch, kneeling on the floor next to him and holding it up for him to take. *** "Good boy." It never got old, saying that; Xander would shiver just the tiniest bit, hardly even aware of it anymore, and the look in his eyes was always that twisted combination of love and hate, need and loathing. Not that Spike could see it, what with Xander sitting so obediently at his feet, but Spike knew it was there. That was enough. He flicked on the television just for background noise, sipping his beer while he tugged and toyed with Xander's hair. "Had a bit of an upset, today," he said slowly. "So I'm going to offer you a treat, little one: you can suggest something you want to do. A position you want that greedy pussy of yours filled in, or a long, slow suck in front of some movie you've wanted to see. Something special that'll make my little boy feel good." *** Leaning into the soft touch, Xander thought about what he wanted. He knew better to think that it would be him getting the blowjob, or to suggest that it be Spike to get fucked - he'd made those mistakes before and been... corrected. His face on fire from the memories, he couldn't think. He'd enjoyed everything they'd done, at least eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to suggest something. It was one thing to be complicit in his own degradation. It was another entirely to be responsible for suggesting what form it would take. Instead, he pressed harder into Spike's leg and answered, "Whatever you want, daddy." *** Spike wrapped a lock of hair around his finger and tugged sharply, knowing just the perfect level of pain for his boy. "Oh, it will be, little one. But I asked you what you wanted, and you'll think of something and answer me. Don't make me regret my generosity, pet." He knew this was a gift that came with sharp edges and hidden catches -- that was the point. He wanted Xander to actively choose his own submission, to prove to himself that it wasn't Spike who truly made him do anything at all. *** Biting his lip, Xander gasped at the pain and pleasure that flooded through his system. He tried to think of something, but his brain had gone blank. Finally, in desperation to say something, he blurted out, "Is there a position we haven't tried?" *** Spike smirked, tugging the boy's hair again. "Plenty, little whore, but you know that, don't you? You and your demon got up to all kinds of kicks before I took you in hand. Now, no more dodging, or I'll have to punish you, pet." *** Xander swallowed audibly and tried to think of something that he used with Anya. "Can I... Is it possible for me to ride you?" *** Spike didn't bother to modulate his surprised expression, turning Xander's head so he could read his boy's eyes. "Now, there's a shock," he mused, idly toying with Xander's lower lip and occasionally slipping his thumb into the boy's mouth -- as always, Xander immediately sucked on whatever he was offered. "Oh, not mad, little one. How can I be mad when you're being such a lovely little treat for me? A sweet bitch who knows her place." Of all the possible suggestions, one where Xander would have to take the most active role of all had not been something Spike expected He'd honestly thought Xander would just want to suck on his cock some more -- certainly mornings were ever-lengthening affairs as Xander gave him slower, more succulent blow-jobs as he learned the tricks Spike liked and that delaying Spike's orgasm meant delaying his own orgasm; something Spike had conditioned him to enjoy very much. Maybe, at most, Spike had idly considered the boy wanting to lay down and let Spike fuck him with fingers or toys; things that wouldn't require actual understanding -- or confirmation -- of Xander's role in their relationship. "Did you do that with Anya, little one? Is that why you want to give that to me?" *** Now that he'd said it, Xander was regretting his offer. He honestly didn't know if he'd be able to choose to sit on Spike's cock with as much enjoyment as Anya used to show. And if he was very, very honest with himself, it would mean admitting that he was as responsible for this relationship with Spike as Spike was, as opposed to just, well, going along for the ride. But Xander had a feeling that Spike wouldn't want to hear that. So he nodded and then shook his head. "It was the only thing I could think of, daddy. Anya used to like it, but I think it was because it let her control everything about sex. If you'd prefer, I can suck your cock?" *** "Cocksucker." Spike tossed that word out, still thoughtfully turning things over in his mind -- Xander blushed, as he always did, hating the word that made his cock twitch so hard. Patting his lap, Spike waited as Xander clambered up astride him, sitting on his knees. The boy's cock wasn't fully hard yet, but it was showing signs. Spike toyed with it idly. "Think riding on Daddy's big cock is going to give you control, little one? Is that what you want?" Spike watched Xander very carefully as he waited for his reply. With him -- as opposed to just about any one else -- Xander was a stripped open book made of the clearest glass. Spike could spot lies full minutes before they were actually spoken and generally had a good idea of what the truth was, too. Xander knew he never got away with it but this, like many things, had become something of a game: Xander would try and retain a little dignity and Spike would show him how much he didn't really want to. *** Xander hated being called a cocksucker. He hated it even more since it was true. Sucking on Spike's cock calmed him down and made him feel good in ways that sleeping with Anya never had -- but the word itself was so vicious that it made Xander blush and stammer every time. "I don't know, daddy. I just think that was why Anya did it. But I don't think you want me in control, do you?" Spike got that peculiar look on his face that always told him that he was seeing through him to Xander's real issues, and he could feel the blush getting even brighter. "Please, daddy? Can I suck your cock for you?" *** Xander didn't even seem to be aware as he lifted his hips for Spike's questing hand, only noticing it when Spike tugged at silken balls, making the boy flinch into a soft moan. "No." Xander was blushing a nice, even red by now, his chest starting to flush and nipples poke out as his body reacted to Spike's presence. One day, Spike was going to figure out a way to drop by Xander's work just to watch the human fumble around, trying to hide a suddenly hard cock at the sight of his Daddy. "But -- " "Bloody hell." Spike tugged again, this time increasing the pain to chip-fizzing levels. "I said no, you stupid bitch. No, you're not going to suck my cock. Well, not now anyway. That's the easy way out, pet, and a good boy doesn't take the easy way. Does he?" Xander shook his head quickly, eyes wide and worried. "No, he doesn't. Now. I want you to tell me why you want to ride me. The truth, little one. You know what happens when you lie to Daddy." *** Eyes dropping so he could stare at the floor, Xander tried to think. Almost impossible with Spike's hand wrapped around his balls, but not completely. Then Spike's hand tightened warningly, and what little thought he had fled. All he could do was open his mouth and hope whatever spilled out was acceptable. "I- I -" "Well?" "It would be nice to have a little bit of control, I think. But truly, I just suggested it because it was the only thing I could think of..." "And?" "And maybe because I thought you'd like it." *** "Mm. Good boy." Spike knew that wasn't even close to the real answer, but he was willing to let it go for now. Particularly as he had a soft, pliant boy cuddling in his lap, making big eyes up at him like he wanted nothing more than Spike's approval -- which he didn't. Xander's need for approval and attention were already strong factors in his life; Spike just... tweaked them a bit. Focused them, as it were. Stroking Xander gently, Spike made certain to fondle Xander's cock before spending a good few minutes plucking Xander's nipples, something the boy enjoyed almost as much as sucking cock. "Thinking of your Daddy first, are you? That's a good slut." Xander was already panting, his cock now fully hard and flat against his belly. Spike fingered the head, wishing Xander was uncut -- he had lots of fun games to play with foreskin. Games Xander would learn to love simply because Spike did. "Since this is your reward, little one, you're going to do all of it. Daddy's not going to help you. Can you do that, pet? Can you be a very big boy for Daddy, taking care of everything?" *** Xander cuddled in tighter to Spike, loving how even though Spike was physically smaller than he was, he made him feel safe and protected. Right up till Spike said he'd have to do anything. Then he panicked. It was one thing to let Spike do whatever he wanted - at some level, Xander realized that he was justifying it by thinking that he had no control in the situation and therefore wasn't to blame. This, though - oh, this was something different. This was Xander in control - which meant he couldn't blame Spike for what was happening, for making him want it. Want his submission, his degradation - he was going to have to give those things to Spike instead of having him take it. Xander closed his eyes. Could he do it? Could he stop pretending to himself? Spike had been quiet for a suspiciously long time, obviously letting Xander work through things for himself. Hell, it wouldn't even surprise Xander if Spike knew exactly what Xander was thinking, and was leaving it to him to decide for himself as one more way of proving his point - that Xander would do anything Spike wanted, including offering himself up like this. Finally, Xander opened his eyes again. He was going to do it, wasn't he? "Yes, daddy." *** Spike offered Xander a real kiss, mouth caressing mouth. They didn't do that much; the old streetwalker saying was fairly accurate as things went, but Spike loved the intimacy of kissing and the way Xander would drop his head to one side, mouth open for Spike's tongue in an instant, offering up this part of himself as sweetly as he offered everything else. "Good boy," Spike murmured when he finally released the breathless boy. He began petting Xander's ass, the exact same way he'd pet the head of a dog. Xander blushed at the first touch but wriggled around so that Spike would have full access without a word. "There's my good, brave little one. My sweet bitch. Go on, then, pet. Show Daddy that you can do this." *** Mutely, Xander begged another kiss from Spike before he slid to his knees in front of him. Reaching out slowly, trying to ignore the way that his hands were starting to shake, he unfastened Spike's jeans and tugged. For a moment, Spike just sat and smiled, and then he lifted his hips so that Xander could pull them down. Sitting back on his heels, Xander carefully folded Spike's pants and then looked up, taking advantage of the unusual freedom to look as much as he liked. He'd always thought of Spike as smaller, using the unfair advantage of vampire strength to make his way through the world. But now he knew that that size hid a frame that was pure muscle over bone. Add to it the supernatural force, and Xander saw a man who could literally pick him up and hold him against the wall. His skin was pale, all except for his cock, which was already half hard and red from blood. Xander wrapped his hand around it, tugging lightly, still watching Spike's face. *** "Doing fine, little whore," Spike told him, reaching out to cup the back of his head. "Go on. Get us both ready." *** Reassured, Xander lowered his head to Spike's cock, sucking the head softly. With his tongue, he pushed back the foreskin, running it around the actual head. As he suckled, he relaxed, loving the heavy weight of dick in his mouth, the flavor and texture of it. Spike grew hard and hot, and Xander worked his way further down the shaft, taking in more and more. One hand started to roll and pet Spike's balls, occasionally brushing further back, across his perineum and even his opening. Xander wondered sometimes if he'd ever get to fuck Spike, but didn't dare ask. But it was only when Spike cuffed him lightly across the back of the head and said, "Both of us, slut," that Xander grabbed the tube of slick out from under the frame of the couch where they kept it stashed. One handed, he popped the top and upended it in his palm, getting a small puddle of lube. Awkwardly, he reached behind himself, knowing that his face was flaming. This was something that Spike had just started - making him slick his own entrance - and there was no doubt in Xander's mind that Spike did it just to prove that there wasn't anything that Xander wouldn't do when he was told. When two fingers were moving inside him relatively easily, he pulled off of Spike's cock with a pop, looking back up at Spike's face for some sort of guidance of what to do next. *** Spike tucked his hands behind his head, watching the way Xander's arm moved and bulged as he fingered himself. He loved how much Xander truly loathed preparing himself, but did it anyway. "Yes, pet? And here I thought you said you could do this without help. You've done this before, bitch. You don't need Daddy to help you." *** Ducking his head in shame, Xander tried to figure out what to do next. The problem was that he'd never done this from this side and he wasn't sure what he could do and what he couldn't. In frustration, he started to ask for help, only to have Spike lift one finger in warning. He knew what that meant - he'd better make this good or he'd be in trouble. "Dad-daddy, I'm a dumb b-bitch and I can't... Please help me, daddy?" *** Smiling indulgently, Spike still sighed. "Very disappointing, pet. But all right. Come sit on my lap, little one, and I'll show you." Flushed and humiliated at having actually called himself a bitch -- Xander had avoided that word, and any of the other 'feminine' words Spike applied to him -- the boy said, "Yes, Daddy," as he climbed back up into Spike's lap. "You really are a dumb bitch," Spike told him, guiding Xander's hand back to his own arse and getting three fingers up inside him. Xander moaned as he filled himself, fingers automatically moving and scissoring. "A stupid whore who doesn't even know how to get herself fucked." He pressed his thumbs to the entrance of Xander's body, testing how stretched the boy was. "There, that's enough. Now get me slick, little one." *** This, Xander had no problem with, and he spent a happy few moments rubbing the slick left on his hand into the skin of Spike's cock. When his cock was shiny with the lube, Spike stopped him and grabbed him by the hips. "This is the only time I'm going to help you. Next time you do this on your own." Lifting him up as easily as if Xander was a small child, Spike told him, "Reach between your legs, pet, an' hold me steady." Shakily, Xander did just that, gasping as he was lowered onto Spike's cock. Spike didn't stop until he was buried all the way in Xander, who gasped and wiggled at the feeling. "God, daddy - so deep!" *** Xander squirmed thoughtfully around the cock in his arse, face screwed up in concentration. He looked young, like this. Not just a bitty teenager, but a true child -- and he sounded even younger, his voice slipping up half an octave and losing an adult's inflections and controlled vocabulary. Fuck, did Spike love him when he was like this. When he really was Spike's eager little slut of a boy, who meant it every time he said 'Daddy' instead of just parroting what protected him from a punishment. Xander was reaching this place more and more often, happily. Spike couldn't help groaning, hands resting on Xander's thighs while the boy wiggled and settled himself. "That's right, pet. That's why it's a reward, innit? Fill that pussy of yours until it's bursting." He wanted to grab Xander's hips again, raising and lowering him like Xander was nothing but a toy to be manipulated -- and he would, eventually. Right then, however, this was about Xander doing the dirty work and loving it, so Spike tucked his hands behind his head, leaning back into the sofa and smirking at the boy impaled on his cock. *** It really was deep, making Xander feel like he was stretched almost past bearing. Then Spike laid back and looked at him, and he suddenly felt about fifteen again, all hands and feet and no idea of where to put anything. Squirming uncomfortably, he wished there was some way to hide his face, but unlike on his hands and knees, Spike could see everything in this position. As he moved, trying to get a feel for where everything was, Spike's cock pressed up against his prostate, making him gasp and freeze. This time, when he moved, it was more deliberate, Spike was smiling wider, and that cock was pressing right where he needed it most. *** "There's my slut," Spike murmured as Xander found the correct angle and began to pick up speed and confidence. "Look at you, little one. Watch yourself. Two seconds on Daddy's cock and you're gagging for it. You bitch. You greedy bitch. That's right, fuck yourself on me. Does it feel good, whore? Tell me." *** Xander whimpered, hips moving beyond his control as the head of Spike's cock rubbed repetitively over his prostate. The ring on his cock bit painfully into his own dick, adding another level of sensation, and Spike's words just pushed him even higher. "Y-yes, daddy, feels s-so g-good, filling me up l-like this." Xander wanted to beg to come, but he'd learned over the last week that it did little good, just giving Spike one more thing to hold over his head, but there was one thing he could beg for. "Pl-please, n-n-need more?" *** Fingers bit into the skin at the base of Xander's cock, tightening the ring around him just long enough for Xander to cry out in pain. Spike had to wait for the shocks to fade from his eyes before he could explain himself, thrusting into Xander a few times just so he could neutralize the pain faster. God, his boy had such a sweet arse. "I've explained to you," he said, voice dark and thinly edged with anger. "You will address me properly -- or I'll have to turn your reward into your punishment, little one." *** "Sorry, daddy, sorry!" Xander cried, pain flashing bright shocks through his body and leaving him shaking and clinging to Spike as the only steady thing in the world. When he could breathe again, Xander continued to clutch at Spike's shoulders and beg. "Please, daddy. Please? I want more, daddy, please?" *** "Shh, little whore," Spike crooned, petting the head leaning heavily against his shoulder, sweaty skin leaking onto his. "There's my bitch. Let her out, now. My greedy, desperate little bottom-bitch. The one who can't think but for Daddy's cock in her pussy, Daddy's come inside her belly." He knew Xander would never admit it, but each filth-laced word had the boy calming down, relaxing into the pain and letting it transmute into pleasure as Spike lightly rocked up. He wasn't fucking Xander -- he was going to make the boy do that, definitely -- but just rubbing his cock along the inner walls of Xander's arse even without hitting his prostate gave Xander enough physical pleasure that he was calming down, whimpering a little as he regained control of his breathing. "There, now." Spike pushed Xander back, seating him more fully over his cock. "Better, little one?" *** Gradually, Xander relaxed, letting Spike's words wash over him as his cock pressed inside him. When he was pushed back, he was ready to look Spike in the face again. "Yes, daddy." Xander moved his hips experimentally, gasping as Spike's cock pressed into his prostate again. Hands clutched on Spike's shoulders, Xander rocked up and down, loving how much deeper Spike was getting. "Daddy? Is it good?" *** Xander's lower lip tasted of salty sweat and fear when Spike sucked on it. "Mm hm," he said, pulling back with a final nip. "Very good, little one. I'm inside you so deep, your little body making me feel very good. Can you go faster, now? Bounce on Daddy's cock?" Part Three B Nodding and biting his lip, Xander started to move faster. Every stroke felt like he was being split open, and it didn't take much for him to start moaning softly, begging without words for more from his daddy. *** Spike sighed when Xander finally found a good speed and rhythm, sinking more deeply into the couch. "That's it," he purred, stretching one arm along the back of the sofa, the other coming up to curl over Xander's hip, holding him without guiding as Xander bounced up and down. "You look so pretty like this, little one. Flushed and sweaty as you fuck yourself onto my cock. Gonna be doing this a lot, too, pet. Just gonna lay down and let you fuck yourself until I come all up inside you. Would you like that, little one?" *** "Uh, huh," Xander panted. "I like this, daddy. Feels so good - so big and deep." Experimentally, Xander stopped bouncing and started to roll his hips, feeling like his eyes crossed when that kept Spike's cock as deep as it could go. *** Spike groaned in tandem with Xander as the boy tried and successfully found a new trick to use. "Tell me. Tell me how you like this." *** Xander closed his eyes, face aflame. He knew what Spike wanted, and every time it got easier. That scared Xander, because he was afraid that he'd slip at the wrong time. "I really like this, daddy. Makes me feel like a real slut for you - filling up my p-p-pussy so good. Want to be your b-b-bitch, always, just riding your cock as m-much as you want. L-l-love it..." *** "Knew you were," Spike muttered, his tone vicious as his body started to fully react to Xander's movements. He slid his hands along Xander's hip, down to his cock, worming his fingers under Xander's weight to cup the boy's balls. He didn't rub them, just offered his hand for Xander to grind into -- which he immediately did, moaning like a cheap tart. "Always knew what a little bitch you were, just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck you. Did you dream about it? Did you wake up spent and cold, dreaming of someone treating you like the whore you are?" *** Immediately, Xander nodded. He'd learned that denying just meant that Spike would push and push until he admitted it anyway. This was less humiliating. "Yes, d-daddy. I'm your whore, your b-bitch. Want it, want it so b-bad." *** Xander's body was warm and heavy as he ground himself in circles around Spike's cock. He was panting, eyes heavy lidded and clear -- that meant he wasn't lying about the dreams. And that meant Spike had an entirely new avenue of torment opening up before his eyes. "You did, little one?" Spike released Xander's balls, curling his fingers around his cock and holding still, providing Xander with a tunnel to fuck, growing slick with precome smearing against fingers and palm. "When was the first time, slut? When did you first dream of kneeling before your Daddy and sucking him the way a good cocksucker should?" *** Lost in the pleasure of having a warm, slick channel around his dick, Xander didn't understand the question at first. When he did, he froze. "Uh..." Spike's hand grew uncomfortably tight, and Xander mewled and squirmed. "I asked you a question, little one." "I... I don't remember, daddy. Seems like I've had them forever. But I didn't want to admit them!" *** It was far too easy. And fun. Spike let go of Xander's cock, reaching around to smack the pert arse resting on his thighs. "I told you not to lie to me, pet. Don't need an exact date, just ... when they started starring me. And what exactly I was doing to a dirty, slutty little boy like you." *** Xander jumped as his ass was spanked, and tried to remember the first time he dreamed about Spike. "It was after you moved into the basement. They weren't - weren't specific, daddy. Just you m-making me do stuff, you know?" *** Now that was interesting. Oh, not that he'd been having submissive dreams for that long -- Spike was willing to lay money the boy'd been having them since he was old enough to fantasize. But that he'd wanted Spike even then, and Spike... Hadn't known. What a fucking waste that was. Almost a year of not having a boy to fuck and abuse when he could have, particularly back when he was in the basement and having someone to order around would've made him feel a hell of a lot better. "No, I don't know, little one. Tell me." Rubbing the arse he'd slapped, Spike reached between Xander's cheeks to brush over the stretched skin there, rubbing it and himself as Xander started moving even faster. "Did I order you over after you'd tied me to that crap chair of yours, tell you to suck me off? Or was it like this, little slut; did you climb onto my lap and rub and rock until I'd come all over you?" *** He stopped moving, luxuriating in the simple touch and staring intently at Spike's chest so that he couldn't see his expression. "S-simple stuff, daddy. You t-telling me to s-suck you off, with me on my knees. T-taking me out of the b-basement to l-live with you," Xander's voice dropped to a bare whisper, "So you could t-take c-care of m-me." *** Spike cupped Xander's cheek gently, making him look up. This was a crucial moment, although in retrospect Xander wouldn't think so. This was when Xander started to truly believe that he was Spike's: his property. And that Spike was his Daddy. Thumb rubbing over Xander's cheekbone, Spike leaned forward to kiss his mouth. "My poor little one. Never told me, did you? But that's all right. Daddy's taking care of you now. Daddy's going to hold you and keep you and take care of you always." He began slowly rocking into Xander's arse, bouncing him lightly with each upward thrust. "Gonna make my little one feel very good, just like now. Isn't that right, pet? Here, arms around my neck." Spike waited for Xander to comply, the almost hug giving Xander the added benefit of more leverage. "This feels good, doesn't it, little one? Daddy taking good care of you, giving your cock-hungry pussy what it needs." *** With a sob, Xander started to move again, a weight coming off his chest at his admission. "Yes, daddy. Feels good. Love it when y-you use m-me, daddy, like a wh-whore." *** "When I fuck your pussy," Spike told him. Xander flushed, then paled, and said, "When you f - " He broke off, gasping at Spike’s sharp slap of reprimand. Shaking his head, Spike rubbed the place he'd slapped. "Who am I, little one?" The answer came gratifyingly immediately: "Daddy." "So, then it would be when ... " *** Stammering, Xander said, "When daddy f-f-fucks my p-p-pussy." Spike continued to rub his ass, saying, "Again, little one." "When daddy fucks my p-pussy." "One more time." Finally, Xander managed to get it out without stuttering. "When daddy fucks my pussy." *** "Good boy!" Spike praised, using his hold on Xander's arse to bounce him a little faster. "That's my good little bitch, so very obedient for his Daddy. Faster, baby, Daddy's almost ready to give you his come. Do you want that?" Xander nodded. He'd begun moving more and more easily over Spike's cock, finally reaching the level of submission he needed to bounce and grind and generally do everything to make Spike feel fantastic. Xander's cock was very hard as well, slapping against his belly with each new contortion, panting both from need and exertion. He grunted, shifting his hips to match the pace he wanted Xander moving at. That pushed the head of his cock even harder over Xander's prostate, the boy jerking as his pleasure increased. *** Crying out, Xander moved as Spike guided him. Pleasure was skittering over his nerves, gathering down in his balls, and he didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to last. "Daddy, daddy, daddydaddydaddy..." *** God, he loved to hear his boy beg. Loved to hear that moment when the self-awareness -- self-disgust -- vanished into white-hot need and the kind of mindless giving that Spike intended to bring Xander to again and again, accustoming him to what he should be like. Making it worth his while. Spike growled, thrusting up hard as he began to come. Fighting through pleasure like molasses on his body, Spike got the ring off Xander's cock -- all hail plastic that slid off without pain -- stroking it roughly as he spilled into Xander's arse. "Come on, little one," he panted. "Come for Daddy." *** Spike's hand moved over him once, twice, three more times, and then he was coming with a harsh groan. For a long moment, he melted into Spike, cuddling up close as he caught his breath. Then he sat back up, and before Spike could say or do anything else, he was already bending his head to lick up his come off Spike's chest and stomach. *** Spike rumbled his approval while Xander contorted enough to remain spitted over Spike's cock while cleaning his chest and belly. "There's my boy," Spike murmured, smoothing sweaty curls off of Xander's forehead, letting his fingers trail down neck and shoulders before starting the whole thing again. "My perfect little whore. So good to me, pet. Keep this up and I might be giving you even more treats." He chuckled as Xander licked over his nipple, holding his head so the boy knew to suckle -- which he immediately did, moaning like the slut he was as he nursed at Spike's chest. "Such a good boy for Daddy." *** Quietly, he nursed at Spike's nipple, laving it thoroughly. It wasn't as good as sucking Spike's cock, but it still felt good in his mouth. When Spike nudged him slightly, he shifted to the other. As he sucked, he twisted, loving the feel of Spike still inside of him. He kept going until Spike put a hand under his chin and lifted his head, tugging it up. Staring at Spike, he waited to be told what daddy wanted him to do now. *** It wasn't that Xander's eyes were empty precisely -- they weren't. The boy was still in there, still cognizant and whole. It was just that right now, when he was like this, his eyes glowed with trust. His mind wasn't blank, but it also wasn't active, content to let Spike control not just his body but the thoughts that teemed and seethed behind amber-colored eyes. Spike leaned forward and kissed him, sucking on Xander's tongue while the boy moaned into his mouth, eager for the intimacy and affection kissing meant -- and, of course, sucking. This boy would do literally anything to suck. "Feeling better now, little one?" Spike asked, idly carding through Xander's hair while the boy leaned into his touch. His other hand rubbed at Xander's arse, in effect squeezing him more tightly around his soft -- for now -- cock. "Or does my little cockslut need to suck for a bit?" *** Xander cuddled in close, luxuriating in the simple touch from Spike. He was unbelievably content that Spike enjoyed his oral fixation so much and was willing to indulge him as much as he liked. "Don't need to, daddy. But can if you want me to." *** Such a simple response. Simple, and thoroughly aware that as much as Spike might take Xander's needs into account -- it was his needs that took precedent. Still joined inside his boy, Spike stretched out over the sofa, enjoying the comforting weight of heavy, sated slut wriggling contentedly over his body. It was almost peaceful, the faint sounds of the outside world counterpoint to the slow, steady thud of Xander's heart. Nuzzling Xander's ear, he offered the boy his thumb to suck on for a little bit. Warm lips immediately closed around it with an eye-fluttered moan. Spike chuckled. "Good cocksucker," he said, making sure to keep his voice warm and affectionate. "Can lift off me, if you like, little one. Don't want you too sore." *** Xander wanted to say something like, "I'm okay," or "If that's what you want," but that would require him to let go of Spike's thumb. So instead, he just shifted enough that Spike slid out of him. Groaning at the sensation, he closed his eyes and suckled on Spike's thumb thoughtfully. More and more he was settling into the life that Spike was determined to see him follow, but he was still worried about what Willow might do. God only knows what she might get in her head if she thought it would be good for Xander. He loved Willow, but it wouldn't be beyond her to cast a spell to "fix" Xander if she thought it was in his best interests. She'd always mothered him, and he'd rarely objected, but now.... Oh, now, it could be a problem. Sighing softly, he decided to worry about it if and when it became an issue and simply focused his attention on Spike's hand, his own hand wrapped around his wrist so he couldn't move it away. *** Spike let Xander drift against him, luxuriating in the feeling of being thoroughly sated and toasty, the steady, wet noises of Xander sucking as his body growing heavier and sleepier... He flexed against the hand curled around his wrist, enjoying the way Xander immediately tightened his grip, not wanting to lose his treat. "Really need to get you a binky," he mused, watching as Xander's eyes grew wide as he woke up a little. "A pacifier, like little, baby boys suck. I'd fuck you while you sucked on it, pet. Fuck you so much that just putting one in your mouth'll get your hard and desperate for it, your pussy aching for Daddy's cock." Xander's slow, delicate flush made Spike grin; craning his neck to nip whatever bits of Xander's flesh he could reach. "Up with you, little one. I know someone's probably hungry and I need to give my dirty slut a bath." *** Blinking sleepily, it took Xander a minute to figure out what Spike was saying. When he did, he blushed all the way down to his waist. It was one thing to suck on Spike's cock or his thumb or even a toy. But a pacifier? He didn't know if he could do such a thing. Oh, well, deal with it when Spike put the toy in his mouth, and not before. In the meantime, Spike wanted him up, and with a groan he pulled himself out of his lap, standing on legs that shook from exhaustion. *** Spike didn't steady Xander, watching as the boy took a deep breath and got himself under control without any assistance -- and then turned and held a hand out for Spike. "Good boy," Spike told him, allowing Xander to help him to his feet. He didn't need the help, of course; not even mind-blowing orgasms could make Spike that wobbly on his pins. But it was nice to see the boy know he had to do for Spike, and Spike wasn't interested in making him feel like shit just because -- yet. Slinging an arm around Xander's waist, he guided Xander into the kitchen and sat him on one of the bar stools -- and grinned when the boy immediately winced. "Feel like spoiling you a bit," he mused as he looked over the crud in the freezer. "Not gonna do this often, mind -- you're not as healthy as you should be. But I think pizza'll be all right. Plain. Go order it, pet, and then start the water for us." Xander's eyes immediately lit up, even when Spike qualified his pressie down to a plain pie, eagerly calling in the order while Spike heated up his first of several mugs for that evening; ah, the beauty of a little boy who didn't know or care where Spike was getting his blood. *** As soon as he'd called in the order for the pizza - god, he hadn't had 'za since he started sleeping with Spike - he went to the bathroom and started the water, as hot as he could tolerate it. Spike would probably have liked it a bit hotter, to be honest, but there was a difference between giving in to Spike's preferences and ending up with burns in some fairly sensitive places, and thankfully, Spike respected the difference. He didn't make Xander do anything actually physically harmful, just... uncomfortable, sometimes. When he returned to the kitchen, he glanced at the mug turning in the microwave. He knew it was human - probably bought from Willie. Spike thought he didn't realize what it was, but Xander honestly saw no point in getting upset about it. Spike was a vampire, period. If he wanted to think that Xander was too dumb to notice the difference in the blood bags, he was welcome to it. *** "We've got twenty minutes, little one," Spike said as he sipped his mug. Sweet, rich human blood flooded his system, making his soft cock twitch with eagerness, his senses flaring with bright clarity. Lovely stuff. He was not ever going back to pig if he could help it. But to be honest... as much as he missed the hunt and the kill, he was a creature of comforts. Having his meals in a bag wasn't a half-bad set of circumstances. Now that it was human again, anyway. "Shall we?" Cupping Xander's arse, Spike wormed a finger into his boy, using that as a steering guide into the fragrantly steaming bathroom. "Kneel," Spike instructed, gesturing at the other end of the tub -- bless Anya's insistence that they get a deep, claw-footed tub big enough for three -- while Spike climbed into the front and stretched out comfortably. "Wash me good, little one." *** Kneeling in the steaming water, Xander pulled down a washcloth and some of the gel that Spike favored. Working it to a lather, he started with Spike's feet and legs, as they were closest, working the cloth as a soft massage. Avoiding Spike's cock and balls, he continued his way up over Spike's chest and arms, still massaging softly. When everything else was clean, he asked, "Daddy, stand up, please?" Spike smiled and stood, letting Xander run the soapy cloth over his cock, getting it clean as well. Then, as Xander let some of the soapy water out of the tub, Spike turned on the shower, letting the water rinse him clean. Xander was still on his knees, and looked up at the half hard cock bobbing in front of him. His mouth immediately started to water, and he forced himself to look up at Spike's face, wondering if they had time. *** Pheromones drifted over the mint and lime scent of the bath wash Spike had ordered the boy use. Xander's eyes were locked on his, mouth twisted into a little squiggle of concentration -- boy wanted his cock again. Always. Chuckling, Spike cupped Xander's cheek and jaw, rubbing his thumb over water-softened lips that parted, tongue flickering out eagerly on the upward sweep of each pass. "Your choice, little one. Want to suck on Daddy's cock, or do you want Daddy to clean you up?" *** Xander cocked his head, considering. He wanted Spike's cock, but there was a time limit, and at least one of them was going to have to be dressed by the time the pizza guy got there. Besides, if he asked to be washed, then he got to feel Spike's hands on him. Decision made, he nodded firmly. "Both. Clean up now, suck on you later?" *** "Greedy," Spike admonished. He turned the taps back on to as hot as Xander could stand, sinking into the water with a sigh. "C'mere, little one. Into Daddy's lap like he's going to fill that greedy pussy of yours again." Xander flowed into his lap eagerly, wriggling like the little one Spike named him. Spike cock rubbed along the groove of Xander's arse as he gently soaped and cleaned his boy, even going as far as to wash his hair, grinding away absently as he ran his hands all over Xander's body. When the boy was full of suds, Spike tapped the boy's cock and said, "Stand up." The shower hissed as it was turned on, spattering against the walls and Spike body as he rinsed Xander off. "Bend, little one." Xander obediently grabbed his own ankles -- or as close as he could come to it -- turning his arse up to the water. Spike soaped and rinsed that area as well, even going so far as to wiggle a few soapy fingers up the boy's grasping, greedy body -- which immediately clamped around Spike's fingers, the boy moaning softly. "Sore?" he asked, gently fingering the boy. *** Moaning, Xander shook his head as best he could given that the position was causing him to get a little dizzy. "N-no, daddy. Feels g-g-good." *** "Whore," Spike told him, other hand stroking the boy's arse while it was fingered and opened. "Cock-hungry bitch." Xander moaned in agreement, his body starting to sway to the increased pounding of his blood. It was too bad Spike couldn't just leave him like this, fucking his arse... But he was still human and Spike had to learn to live with those limitations. Withdrawing his fingers, he rinsed his boy's arse out thoroughly before giving him the tap to stand back up. Xander swayed alarmingly as he rose, eyes circling in their sockets until Spike cupped Xander's silken sac, squeezing it rhythmically until Xander settled, cock slightly more than half-hard at Spike's touch. "Time to dry off, little one," he said, adopting as fatherly an attitude as he could -- it always drove Xander wild with shame and lust. "Come on, pet, out you go and into those towels. Don't want you catching a cold." *** His ears ringing a little from the extra blood in his head, Xander did as he was told, drying off quickly and then taking one of the dry towels to use on Spike. Once they were both dry, Spike patted his face and said, "Go put on a pair of sweats, little one. Pizza's gonna be here any second." Nodding, Xander scurried to the bedroom and pulled out the only pair of sweats left in his dresser - a pair so tight that he couldn't hide his hard on if he tried. The pizza guy was going to be able to take one look and know that he was the slut that Spike named him. But it was too late to do anything about it, because as if his thoughts conjured him, the doorbell rang. Opening the door, he paid for the pie, ignoring the blush that colored his face over his shirtlessness and the raised eyebrow aimed at his hard cock. As he turned to go back into the apartment, he heard, "Xander?" Turning back around, he saw Willow making her way determinately down the hallway. *** Spike, with his head in the freezer, didn't notice anything was wrong until the humiliation-without-lust scent was overpowering. Realizing instantly that this wasn't the pizza boy, Spike wrapped a towel more tightly around his waist and went into the living room just in time to see Willow giving Xander a not-happy-at-all once over. It was the disapproving little frown between her eyebrows that did it. And the way Xander was so upset he'd be near tears, if he were alone. Spike took the pizza box, placing it on the end table while wrapping an arm around Xander's waist reassuringly. The boy leaned against him, not as heavily as he clearly wanted to, but obviously seeking support. Spike fitted two fingers under Xander's sweat pants, far enough back that Willow wouldn't notice, and began stroking softly. "Red," he greeted with a friendly smile. "Wasn't expecting you; wouldn't have been in the middle of a laundry, otherwise." The hell are you doing here, he wanted to snarl. Frightening my boy and possibly undoing weeks of training with your coy little don't-mind-me's. Bitch. Instead, though, he waited as she looked over the spotless apartment -- Xander cleaned when told -- and Xander’s half-naked state again. "Laundry? You guys... do laundry?" *** Leaning into the touch as much as he felt like he could, Xander smiled at Willow. Ignoring the way that it probably looked completely fake, given the way it tugged and pulled at skin, he said, "Well, of course we do laundry. How else would we have clean clothes?" Willow responded with a distracted "Mm, hmm," while continuing to look around the apartment. Finally, she looked directly at Xander. "Do you think we could talk, Xan?" "Of course, Wills. What's up?" Now Willow looked at Spike, and then back at Xander. "I meant just the two of us, Xander." The smile slipped off his face as he tried to come up with an answer for that that wouldn't get Spike instantly staked. "There's nothing we need to talk about that Spike can't hear." *** Spike made a show of rolling his eyes. "Oh, relax," he huffed, the words for both human's benefit. Pressing a kiss to Xander's temple -- then cheek -- then mouth, letting Xander draw his tongue into his mouth and suck on it desperately while Willow made noises that clearly indicated that she was definitely not disgusted at all what so ever, ew ew, Spike finally drew back. Xander looked better, like this. Not just because he was lust-dazed and about to smile dopily up at Spike, but because he didn't have that pinched look of a boy who'd been caught. "Gonna go get changed," he said softly. "I'll stay inside for a bit, all right? Call me when you're done." And let Willow think that Spike wouldn't hear every single word they said. *** With another kiss, Spike slipped out of the kitchen, leaving Xander and Willow staring at each other. "I wanted to talk to you away from him, Xan. This doesn't make any sense - you hate Spike!" Xander had to fight to keep his voice low and even. "I used to. Not anymore. Why is this so hard for you?" "I just don't understand. You're straight! Or was I imaging Anya and Cordy. Wait. No way was I imagining Cordy, unless it was a nightmare. But anyway, you're not gay! I'm the gay one." "Both of us are allowed to be gay, Willow. It's not like there's a rule that says only one gay person in a friendship. And to be fair, you had Oz before Tara." Willow nodded, then shook her head. "Still doesn't explain the whole 'Spike' thing. I thought you did the bad-girl thing with Faith. Do you really need a repeat?" Xander sighed and led Willow over to the couch, sitting carefully. "Look, Willow. I know you don't like Spike, and I didn't used to either. But he takes good care of me, he's not trying to hurt me, and I think you need to trust me, here." *** Dressed in Xander's sweats and a buttondown t-shirt, Spike leaned against the doorway, staring at faux wood-grain along the edge of the door. It was cracking. "Still doesn't explain the whole 'Spike' thing. I thought you did the bad-girl thing with Faith. Do you really need a repeat?" 'Faith' thing? Wasn't she the other slayer, the one that'd gone evil? Spike tried to remember bits and pieces of not caring all that much, reminding himself to ask Xander later. After he successfully told Willow that it wasn't his problem and was a whole heaping lot of hers. "Look, Willow. I know you don't like Spike, and I didn't used to either. But he takes good care of me, he's not trying to hurt me, and I think you need to trust me, here." Good boy, Spike mentally praised his boy, peeking out the tiniest bit so that Xander could see him, if he wanted -- Willow had her back to him, so as long as Xander was a bit on the smooth side ... well, he'd just be ready to jerk backwards. Xander looked small on that sofa, even compared to the teeny, short woman perched before him. He looked miserable, too, and Spike knew that had mostly to do with his friend's lack of faith in him. Bitch, Spike thought, the invective laden with none of the lust and twisted affection that Xander had come to love so much. This was just hate. *** A hint of movement caught Xander's eye, and he couldn't help the look towards the bedroom door. When he saw Spike, he smiled. Willow didn't understand their relationship - for that matter Xander didn't understand it most of the time - but it didn't matter. Willow's face suddenly relaxed, and she said softly, "You really do love him, don't you?" That jerked Xander's attention back to her. "I - I. Yeah, I really do." She smiled and stood. "Okay, Xander. I'm gonna stay out of it, but - " and she turned to face the bedroom, raising her voice just a little, "If you hurt him, Spike, I will turn you into little dust bunnies!" *** What, that was it? Not that Spike was objecting. Absolutely no objections at all. But all she needed was an involuntary smile and a stammered declaration of love that Spike didn't believe for a moment -- boy didn't know the difference between what his heart wanted and his cock needed -- and off she went in a cloud of jasmine? The hell? Then again ... gift horses and mouths, and all that rot. Stepping out from the bedroom, Spike leaned against the back of the sofa, cupping his hand around Xander's neck. It was a highly possessive gesture -- but all Willow did was smile at the affection she was seeing. Idiot child. "Right, right, you lot are getting stale with this whole stake-Spike routine. Besides. Even if I wanted to hurt him -- which I bloody well don't -- I can't. Give it up for American chipmanship, as Xan's so fond of saying. Satisfied now?" *** "No, not really. But I am convinced that Xander wants this, versus being shoved into it. And I don't give a damn about your chip, Spike, since it won't stop you from hurting him emotionally." Willow was obviously trying to glare at Spike, but it wasn't working. She never could stay angry for long. "Willow?" "Hmmm?" She turned her attention back to Xander. "I'm sorry, Xander. I believe you - doesn't mean I actually trust Spike." "I know, but you're going to at least stop with the threats of the doing of spells, right?" She sighed and nodded. "No spells. But if he hurts you, you tell me and I'll kick his butt, okay?" *** Safe inside his skull, Spike laughed at the implications that Xander wasn't forced into this. Oh, he was -- didn't mean he didn't want it, though, as the boy was responding the way a flower opened up to the sun. He wanted every little bit Spike could give him, and didn't give a damn that Spike had definitely forced the issue to get him to this point. Xander was nodding at Willow, looking relieved that she'd specifically said that she trusted him, saying, "You'll be my first call," over Spike's "Oi!" of outrage. Willow giggled a little and waved. "Um, Xander? You may wanna go shopping cause those are a little ... tight." Xander immediately blushed, while Spike was torn between laughing at his uncomfortable pet or growling at Willow. He settled for glaring. "Not my fault you interrupted us right before sex. Now leave, woman! I want my shag!" That had Willow blushing fire-engine red as she gasped out something and scrambled from the apartment. "Finally," Spike groused. "Idiot bint, poking her nose in where it doesn't belong. And how're you, love?" Spike asked, dropping his voice into a croon. "Not too fashed by her, are you?" *** Xander held out his arms to Spike, relieved when he immediately sat down next to him. It enabled him to curl into a ball in his lap, trying to not let his frustration and anger with Willow grow to unmanageable proportions. "I'm okay, daddy. Not happy, particularly, but okay." Spike ran his hand through Xander's hair, making him feel like he should be purring or something. "I just get tired of them treating me like an idiot." *** Spike growled thoughtfully under his breath. The urge to say something like "their loss" was strong, but as it was absolutely factually accurate and it was half their idiocy that had Xander curled so trustingly on his lap and calling him Daddy, well -- wouldn't do for him to malign what'd set things up as perfect as an eight ball in the corner, would it? He rubbed his thumb through Xander's stubbled jaw, the boy wriggling in pleasure as he was petted. "Not really important, then, are they, little one?" he asked instead. "If they treat you like dirt, well, you can treat 'em like dirt right back. I've got you. Don't think you're stupid, or untrustworthy. Just a little boy, who needs -- " He looked down at Xander, smiling. "What's he need, love?" *** Pressing his face into Spike's hand, Xander smiled a little. "He needs his daddy." Spike smiled, making Xander feel warm inside like he'd done something right. He knew that he shouldn't be so dependent on Spike, but still, the reinforcement felt good. Ducking his head, he started to ask a question just as his stomach growled. "Okay, pet, you still need to eat." Xander nodded and went into the kitchen, getting out a plate and taking a few pieces of the 'za. Taking the plate and a glass of milk out to the living room, he sat down on the floor next to Spike's feet and started to eat. *** Xander's reliance on habit, seating himself at Spike's feet with a glass of milk like a child, had Spike humming and his cock twitching. He loved to watch Xander slip so easily into the role of a submissive; he loved it even when Xander argued about it, too, because that made the subconscious obedience that always seemed to kick in that much sweeter. Spike patted the sofa beside him. "C'mere, pet. Tonight you can sit up by me." Then, purposefully not looking at Xander, he turned on the TV and flipped to ... christ was that Speed? Ah, well. Sandra Bullock's tits were nice. *** Blushing, Xander shifted up on the couch, setting the milk down on the coffee table. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he started eating, but he managed to finish off the slice of pizza in a few bites, and the second only took a few moments longer. Turning, he laid down on the couch to watch the movie, his head in Spike's lap. Still watching, Spike started to pet his hair, making him relax as if he'd been fed some of the good drugs. Every touch made his body vibrate like a tuning fork that had been dropped and he started to purr. *** The sound confused him at first. It wasn't the rumbling, growling sound Spike had half-expected for days now; it wasn't constant, the need to breathe putting weird stops in the noise. But Xander was definitely purring -- well, humming really, but the same thing. Xander was purring. Spike continued to pet the boy, spreading his touches to the boy's shoulders and back, slipping down to rub between the boy's cheeks before starting all over again. "Still hungry, love?" he murmured, quietly so not to disturb the hush that'd fallen on them. It wasn't very dominant of him, but Spike was enjoying this as much as Xander. "Don't want my little one to want for anything." *** Reluctant to say anything that might break the spell falling over him, Xander shook his head silently, nuzzling into Spike's leg. Each light touch did more than any amount of force to comfort him, and he was loving every second. There was only one thing that could make things better. By squirming and shifting, he finally managed to work himself up over Spike's groin, burying his face and inhaling deeply. Even over the smell of fabric softener and soap, he could scent the musk that was Spike. Rubbing his cheek on the bulge that was starting to form in the sweats, he smiled and purred a little louder. *** Spike's surprised chuckle was a dirty thing, fit for back rooms and alley-ways, but he knew Xander wouldn't hear any of that: he'd hear the affection and pride in the way he cuddled directly onto Spike's groin, nuzzling against it like a puppy reassuring himself that this was the right scent that meant home. "Here, little one, lift up a bit." Spike kept his voice quiet, not wanting to startle the half-asleep boy on his lap. When Xander obligingly lifted his head, Spike shimmied the sweats down to his thighs, shifting so he was slumped even further into the sofa, allowing Xander to pillow his head on Spike's stomach -- and slip Spike's cock into his mouth. "There's my cocksucker," Spike praised him, returning to the slow, light touches. He added a few -- nipples and right below Xander's belly-button, a spot that always made him pant -- but made certain his touch wasn't arousing. Just reassuring. "My good little slut." *** Content, Xander suckled on Spike's cock. He wasn't using any of the tricks that Spike had taught him to build things quickly. Instead, this was pure comfort - being able to relax and suck as much as he wanted without having to do anything. One hand slipped down to Spike's hip, curling around the sharp bones there and clinging tightly as he continued to suck. The other started to draw random patterns on his leg. He wasn't thinking of anything in particular, or even at all, as he focused on the cock in his mouth. *** It said something about the amount of sex Spike was getting that he didn't even need to be hard for this. He was, but there wasn't much urgency behind it. Just a fizzling at the base of his spine and comfort leaking through his veins while Xander suckled him, clinging tightly. Spike continued petting him as Speed became something awful cop drama with no point, as he hadn't seen what came before, and then something else Spike still wasn't paying attention to. And all the while, Xander continued to suck. He could probably fall asleep just like that, but Spike had spent too much time kipping where he could, forget the two years he'd had a crypt with no bed. So he gently shook his boy awake, stripping him down and getting him into the bedroom. Xander's eyes were wet and glassy with sleep as he lay his head down on the pillow, blinking at Spike before looking down at Spike's groin again. Spike chuckled softly, turning out the light before pushing on Xander's head. "All right, greedy bitch. Daddy wants your throat." Xander gave him a secret grin and slithered down the bed to wrap arms around Spike's waist even as he wrapped his lips around Spike's cock. Sighing, Spike pet Xander's forehead and hair while the boy hummed in half-asleep contentment. All in all, it'd been a good day. The Scoobies had bound Xander even more tightly to Spike, and he'd have a hot, willing throat to fuck when he woke up. Not bad at all. Part Four Xander woke gradually. Some time during the night, he had shifted, and Spike was lying practically on top of him, sucking up body heat. It was Saturday, and he didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do. A nice, long, lazy day at home sounded good. Of course, that wasn't counting on anything that Spike might decide that he wanted to do, but hopefully he'd let Xander get some extra rest. Stretching as best as he could, trying not to disturb Spike, Xander couldn't help the yawn that spilled out. Nuzzling into Spike's neck, he tried to go back to sleep but he was awake now, and, more importantly, so was his bladder. It took some doing, but he managed to slip out from under Spike without waking him. Going into the bathroom, he did the various necessary things, washed his hands, and then returned to the bedroom. Spike had turned to face him, looking vaguely unhappy in his sleep, one arm thrown out over the side of the bed. Xander still wasn't sure what was happening between the two of them. All he knew was that he was becoming more and more comfortable with being under Spike. He just hoped that one day he wouldn't slip and call Spike "Daddy" where it wasn't appropriate. Pushing away the deep thoughts, muttering to himself that it was too early for such things, he went over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Maybe he'd try something a little different today. Scooting down the bed, he studied Spike quiescent cock curiously. Wondering how much trouble he'd get in for starting things without permission, he ultimately shrugged and figured it would probably be worth it. With that idea in mind, he ducked his head and took Spike's cock in deep. *** Vague dreams haunted Spike, feathers brushing against his mind in grays and browns. He reached for them, trying to catch, and unexpectedly desperate when they slipped between his fingers. It was cold, all of a sudden, and emptiness echoed around him, wrong and distorted, and it was -- Warm. Hot, even, wet and with a sweet suction that dragged Spike away from his mindless questing into a room that smelled of sex and himself, a hint of mint and soap, and lust. Lots and lots of lust, pouring out through the room the way smoke would blanket and fuzz the edges -- and not a drop of it was his own. Yawning sleepily, Spike stretched his arms above his head and glanced back down, smiling slightly. "Morning, little one," he said, his voice rough with sleep. Anxious eyes met his, flitting back and forth as they sought permission. His hand reached down without conscious thought, cupping Xander's jaw to rub his thumb over a stubbled cheek. "Greedy little slut," he continued, affectionate despite the dirty words. "Got hungry, did you?" *** "Mm hmm," Xander hummed, loving the way it made Spike jump, then pretend it didn't. There wasn't any urgency to what he was doing. This was just a long and lazy suckling. Slowly, Spike's cock filled, lengthening in his mouth and filling it just perfectly. When Spike ran his hand through his hair, he dropped down further, taking more of his cock into his mouth and throat. Loving it, he hummed his contentment. *** Spike widened his legs, arching as he was taken in deeper. "Little whore," he crooned, settling more deeply into the bed while Xander crawled into the space his body vacated. Spike ran the flat of his foot over Xander's thigh and buttocks, even contorting enough to stroke his toes over Xander's back. "Cocksucking fag. Nothing but a queer little pussy-boy, aren't you? Hmm." His hand curled back into Xander's hair, tugging at tangled locks until it almost started to hurt -- Xander, who's eyes were so expressively dark, negative light that told a story a child could follow, not Spike. "My queer little pussy-boy." *** As Spike alternately petted and pulled at him, Xander whined, trying to take him even deeper. His throat ached with the need to take as much as he could. Spike's words washed over him, leaving him in a humiliated and turned on fog. He wanted to deny being a fag, but with a cock in his mouth - willingly and by his own choice, no less - he couldn't. All he could do was close his eyes and focus on the taste and the need. *** "Open," Spike ordered softly, stroking his thumb over the delicate skin right beneath Xander's left eye. "Don't like it when my boy tries to hide from me." It took a few moments for Xander to obey, lashes fluttering reluctantly as they rose. His eyes were dark -- pitch and tar, with little lights like stars inside the ink -- twisted up desire for more and the shame his wants gave him. It made Spike groan, thrusting up into Xander's mouth. "Swallow me, little one," he ordered. "Like we practiced? Do that." *** Shifting, Xander tried to get himself at a good angle to swallow down Spike's cock. On his first try, he choked, coughing and having to pull back fast so that he could catch his breath. Before Spike could say anything, though, he'd tried again, this time managing to swallow and get Spike's cock most of the way down his throat. Once there, he focused on breathing for a few minutes, trying to make sure that he wasn't going to lose it again. Once he was certain, he started moving, just a little, hoping that Spike would continue to be patient. *** Smirking, Spike leaned back against the bed; the look in Xander's eyes was just daring him to say something, to stop his blowjob just to ridicule. Spike, however, had no interest in ridiculing Xander for having a perfectly normal gag-reflex -- particularly as the boy immediately tried again, determination marring the lines of his face until the cock in his mouth created new ones. "Better?" he asked as Xander began to relax a little, moving infinitesimal amounts as he tried different angles. When Xander hummed something in agreement, Spike chuckled, gently tousling his hair. "Good boy." *** Slowly, it got easier, till Xander was moving up and down the length of Spike's cock. Every so often he'd still choke, but he kept trying. Finally he finally got settled enough that he was moving almost effortlessly, rapt in the feeling. His eyes closed again, but this time simply because he was so engrossed in what he was doing. Dropping all the way down, he tried to swallow, moaning as his throat constricted around Spike's cock. *** The vibrations mixed with the silken feel of Xander's mouth around him. Spike groaned, both hands locked around Xander's head; instinct wanted him to grab and move, forcing himself even deeper inside that wet mouth. Self-control, however, kept him from doing anything but enjoying the radiating heat of Xander's scalp, hair like cool rain against his fingers. "Again," he ordered, gruff with need, his body thrumming like a violin-string that'd been plucked. "Again, little one. Daddy wants to come." *** The want in Spike's voice made Xander proud - he'd done that! Him! - and it made him want more. So, cautiously, he did it again, only to be rewarded by Spike's moan and his hands tightening in his hair. "Again..." This time, when he swallowed, he didn't pause to be told, just repeating it over and over again as fast as he dared. Wanna make my daddy come... wanna make him proud of me... *** Xander was making little nng, snuffling noises as he bobbed himself faster and faster, swallowing over Spike's cock to some rhythm powerful enough that it caught his breathing and heartbeat along with that wicked tongue and hot, grasping throat working him over and -- Spike cried out, arching as he came. He pulsed three times, body clenching up like it was seizing as one of those pulses went directly down Xander's throat. "Hell," he groaned when he collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily. *** Xander lifted his head, licking his lips as he smiled at Spike. "Good morning, daddy." *** "Berk," Spike muttered, gesturing for Xander to crawl up beside him. Once he had, Spike immediately found the boy's cock to play with, absently fondling and tugging it as he buried his face in Xander's hair. "Why'd you wake me up so sodding early?" He had no intention of letting Xander come. Yet, anyway. But reinforcing just how much belonged to him, though, wasn't a bad thing -- and making Xander gasp and go white around the eyes was a hell of a lot of fun. *** "Uh... cause I wanted to suck on you, daddy," Xander said, fighting back a moan as Spike's hand skillfully played with his dick. *** "Greedy," Spike said, trying for disparaging and landing somewhere between affectionate and indulgent. "Go get me my breakfast; can't live on come the way you can, little one." *** Biting his lip, Xander bit back his first response, which was a great big no. He wanted to come so badly, but he knew that the surest way to guarantee that he wouldn't would be to say something like that. So instead, he slipped out of the bed and padded to the kitchen. Pouring a mug full of Spike's blood, he absently leaned against the counter and rubbed at his aching dick as he waited for the timer to ring. *** Spike waited exactly thirty seconds before yelling, "And don't play with your cock, or I'll put it back in the cage!" It always pissed Xander off when Spike 'caught' him at things anyone not completely unfamiliar with vampires or anyone who'd dominated submissive, eager little boys before knew to expect. *** How the hell does he know? Xander thought as he jerked his hand away. It wasn't fair. The microwave dinged, and he carefully picked up the mug, carrying it back into the bedroom and handing it to Spike before sliding back into the bed. He wanted to ask if Spike was using his vampiric hearing or something, but that would give away what he'd been doing, so instead he just sat there feeling very disgruntled. *** Chuckling around a mouthful of blood -- a year and more on pig and he still appreciated every single milligram of the good stuff -- Spike snaked an arm around his boy, pulling him down close and this time rubbing between the boy's arse and toying with his bollocks. "Aw," he mocked, licking a stray bit of blood from his lower lip. "Don't pout so, little one." *** Xander's hips rocked up, trying to get more of that fleeting touch. He wasn't about to claim he wasn't pouting, even if he wasn't. Instead, he leaned in, hoping to get a kiss. Spike chuckled and obliged him. He tasted of copper and sleep, and Xander moaned into it. *** That Xander was so excellently good at kissing probably shouldn't have surprised Spike -- he'd heard of the boy's disastrous relationships and knew enough about the girls in question that an adequate kisser wasn't going to cut it. In Cordelia's case, she'd probably just bite it off as she swished away on Blanhik heels. But as much as Spike enjoyed the kissing, that still wasn't something he approved of. Not really. Because kissing was intimate and sharing instead of the giving or taking that Spike preferred. Spike ended the kiss by biting Xander's tongue hard enough that they both gasped, although Xander's had a touch more excitement in it. Good. "Mm. A whole day with my little slut waiting to attend me," Spike said, leaning back in bed and returning his attentions to Xander's smoothly waxed bollocks. "What should I have you do, hm?" *** Moving restlessly, Xander shook his head and then shrugged. It wasn't his call, and he knew it. He just wished that Spike was more willing to kiss - he really missed it. "Whatever you want, daddy." Spike's hand tightened almost to the point of pain, and he said, "Of course it's what I want, little one." Gasping, Xander squirmed, trying to figure out what to say. "S-sorry, daddy." *** Sighing, Spike released Xander's balls to roll the boy firmly onto his belly. It made breathing difficult -- Xander wasn't light -- but touch always reassured Xander, and Spike didn't need that much air to speak, anyway. "Alright, you stupid slut. It's time you understood something. When I ask you want you want, little one, that means I want to know what's going on underneath your thick skull. We aren't going to do a sodding thing I don't want to do. That doesn't excuse you from answering my questions. Understand, or I need to take you over my knee?" *** Xander squirmed a little as Spike's hipbones cut into his stomach, and then more as he remembered the last spanking he got. He wasn't sure how Spike was able to give one with the chip, but it still hurt like a fucker. "I under-understand, daddy. I just... I'm not sure what I want to do, though." Spike sighed and started to shift, and Xander whimpered, trying to come up with something fast so that Spike wouldn't have to carry through on his threat to spank him. "Uh, I'd like to be fucked, daddy." *** "That's because you're a greedy little bitch of a bottom-boy that can't think without a cock in her pussy," Spike snapped, meeting Xander's eyes and waiting for the boy to squirmingly look back. Dark brown eyes flinched their way up to his, golden brown receding as fear and nervousness made his pupils expand. "Right, then. Some options. If you want, little one, Daddy'll bone you until you can taste me in the back of your throat. Or we could try something new -- lots of things we haven't tried yet, pet. Could see just how very flexible my boy is... maybe take you out ... Want me to show you off, little whore? Let everyone see what wares I just might be offering?" *** His mouth watering at the thought of being fucked so very thoroughly, Xander almost jumped at the chance of a hard fuck. Almost. But the idea of being pushed even harder had its own appeal, and he actually paused to contemplate if he wanted something different. It was apparent that Spike did - or he wouldn't have brought it up. Xander wasn't sure he was ready to go out, though, and Sunnydale was small enough that word would get back to Willow. She might have accepted him sleeping with Spike, but there was no way that she'd get over him being treated like property in public. "Flexible, d-daddy? What do you mean?" *** Finally, they were making progress. Spike rewarded Xander with a short kiss -- the boy would do a hell of a lot for a snog, and even more for a proper one -- sucking on his lower lip until Xander made that soft, breathy moaning noise that told Spike his mind had turned half-off. "Positions, pet," Spike said, his voice more gentle now that Xander was on the same page. "Haven't tried the really challenging ones yet, and there are tons of things I'd love to slip up my boy's greedy pussy. Watch you fuck your own body for Daddy's pleasure. Would you like that, little one? Spread out and full, while I watched? *** Licking his lips to find the taste of Spike still there, Xander tried to make his brain work. Between the mind-blowing kiss and the mental image of what Spike was suggesting, though, he didn't think he was going to be able to find two brain cells to rub together, though. "I'd like to t-try that, daddy. Dunno how flexible I am, though - not like I can do splits or something." *** Spike didn't bother mentioning that it wasn't flexibility he was after but willingness; Xander wouldn't understand the difference, innocent that he still really was. Chuckling at Xander's wide-eyed hesitation, Spike let his fingers slip into the curve of Xander's arse, the first entering easily -- Xander kept himself lubed almost constantly, despite complaining of how weird it felt and how much he didn't like it. One look for Spike had him scrambling to slick himself, arse up and ready for whatever his Daddy wanted of it. "Pretty boy," Spike crooned, kissing Xander again while he added a second finger. He wasn't working them in deeply, just idly toying with Xander's entrance and the muscles that knew better than to tense around him. *** Xander moaned as Spike played, fingers spreading him open and stretching his entrance. "Your pretty boy, daddy. Feels so good..." Spike chuckled softly as he pulled his hand back, leaving Xander arching after that gentle touch. "Go get the toy bag, pet." "Yes, daddy." Xander slid off the bed and scurried over to the closet, picking up the gym bag that contained all of Spike's toys. He wasn't completely certain what was kept in there, as he knew that Spike hadn't used them all on him yet and he wasn't allowed to look in it. But when Spike opened it up and pulled out the green jelly dildo, he moaned, his mouth already opening. That usually meant that Spike was going to push him hard, but didn't want him making too much noise. Xander didn't care, except for the fact that it meant he got to suck. *** "That's right," Spike agreed. "My pretty cocksucker." Xander was almost panting in eagerness to get his mouth around the toy, his cock hard and twitching as Spike fed him inch by slow inch, lurid green disappearing into soft, smooth pink. Very pretty indeed. Gripping the base of the toy once it nudged the back of Xander's throat, he tugged on it, smirking when Xander sucked more firmly, glaring at Spike for trying to take away his treat. He looked thoroughly debauched like that, a perverted child mindlessly happy with the wet, rhythmic pull of wet against the toy. "Good slut. On your back, little one, and hold your legs up under the knee." As Xander scrambled around to obey, Spike picked out a few toys. The first was, of course, a cage -- "Want my boy to behave," Spike explained as he snapped into place, Xander's glower totally out of the place above the base of the toy bobbing in and out of his mouth in time with his sucking. "He's going to be a good boy for me, isn't he? A sweet bitch for Daddy to play with." He had the first toy lubed as he spoke, pressing it in as hard and as fast as he could; which turned out to be faster than Spike expected. Huh. Apparently his boy was finally starting to stretch. Good. He worked the first dildo -- a long, black nightstick of a toy, not quite as thick as Spike himself but a bit longer -- in and out, watching Xander's reaction closely. He did love to watch his boy go happily mindless as his body was used. *** He hated the cage, but with the toy in his mouth he couldn't object - not that he actually would have, anyway. Spike's smile added insult to injury, since he knew just how uncomfortable the damn thing was. But as he focused on holding up his legs - not easy to do for more than a few moments - he let himself get lost in the sensation of sucking. Then there was the rush of being penetrated, and he would have cried out if he could. It didn't hurt, but it was unexpected. The toy was harder, less giving than Spike, and that made it feel even bigger. He adjusted quickly, and was soon rocking in time to the push and pull of the toy, sucking mindlessly to the same rhythm. Inside the cage, his cock throbbed, and he moaned loudly. *** Spike rested the edge of his right hand directly underneath Xander's bound sac. He wasn't putting all his weight there -- he didn't want to truly hurt Xander -- but enough that it forced the boy more heavily into the fake cock fucking into him, heightening both the pleasure and the discomfort. "Good bitch," he murmured. "If you want to talk, little one, you're allowed to. Can take your binky out and tell Daddy how good it feels to have your pussy full. Or not," he added, knowing just how cruel he could be before it pushed Xander too far. Spike continued fucking Xander until the boy was undulating easily around the toy in his arse, body lax and open. Pulling out the toy with a pop, Spike held it up, eyeing it ostentatiously and glancing at Xander's mouth -- a clear signal that he might actually make Xander suck on the dirty toy. Particularly since it wasn't that dirty; Spike had instituted that particular daily regiment very early on. But Xander's eyes still widened, a hint of fear making his breath hitch, and Spike leered at him before putting the toy down and thrusting three fingers inside Xander's arse again. "So wet, you whore," he purred. "Loose, like a slattern from the docks, used by anyone with a tenner. Want me to do that, little one? Taking care of you is expensive, pet, and we'll need more dosh eventually. Want me to shove you down, let some stranger take your ass while you concentrate on Daddy's cock in your mouth?" *** Fear making his belly cramp, Xander whimpered. It wouldn't do for Spike to know how much the idea of being used like that was a turn on in addition to being afraid. But Spike was staring at him, obviously waiting for a response as Xander rode his fingers. Awkwardly, he managed to take the binky out of his mouth without dropping his leg. "Scary," he whined. *** "Doesn't mean you don't want it," Spike accused, smirking as Xander flushed even harder. "Scary just makes my little bitch even harder, doesn't it? Would you do that, if I told you? Would you spread your legs for every bloke I told you to, hand over the money to me like a good hooker?" Three fingers became four, Spike surreptitiously adding more lube while Xander tried to ride him faster. A sharp slap put a stop to that, Xander's cock rubbing painfully within its cage. *** Would he do it? Xander had to admit that the idea had a certain appeal, especially he knew that Spike wouldn't let anyone hurt him. After all, if he did, then he wouldn't be able to be there for Spike. Hesitantly, he slowly nodded. Spike smirked, and abruptly the sensation of being full increased. It stung a bit, but didn't really hurt. Xander groaned and tried to move to accommodate it, only to be slapped into stillness. Biting his lip, he moaned when Spike grabbed the bright green toy and brought it back to his mouth. "Suck, pet." Obediently, Xander opened his mouth and took the toy in deep, relaxing as he nursed it. *** Xander's eyes spun around in their sockets as Spike began to spread his fingers, keeping the number at four but increasing the width in preparation. "Slut," he accused, tucking his thumb against his palm to carefully start easing it forward. "Keep your legs up, little one, sucking on your binky like a good boy. Going to be a very good boy for Daddy, aren't you? Spreading yourself while Daddy fists you." Spike made certain he wasn't looking at Xander, while eagerly awaiting his reaction. Xander was still, truly, a prude. Having Spike's cock up his ass was something he'd learned to love, Spike's toys something he tolerated because Spike made it worth his while. But a fist? Spike's hand digging deep into Xander's body, taking it and owning it in a way that a blowjob -- no matter how eagerly given -- couldn't quite compare to ... Spike greedily wanted to know if Xander would flip out -- and to what point. *** Xander choked on the toy, dropping his legs and trying to pull back - difficult with most of Spike's hand inside of him. Spitting the dildo out, he glared at Spike. This had gone too far. If asked, Xander wouldn't have been able to say why this was too far with all the other things that he'd willingly done for Spike, but it was. Too much, too fast. *** Mmm. There was the boy Spike had tamed into obedience, glaring thunderclouds of hate, surprise and hurt like lightning bolts that never truly formed. Xander was trying to work himself free of Spike's touch, but a sharp slap and a hand on the boy's stomach forced him to trembling stillness. "Did I say you could move?" he asked, voice at its silkiest. "Don't think so. Besides. Can't tell me this doesn't feel good." Spike pushed the tiniest bit forward, allowing the tips of his fingers to just brush against the boy's prostate. "Come on, little one. Stay still for Daddy." It was hard to keep the laughter out of his voice, looking at Xander turtle-legged and furious enough to spit, still spitted quite nicely. *** Fighting back the moan that tried to make its way out of his throat at the gentle press on his prostate, Xander froze. He made no effort to lift his legs or fight his way free. Instead, he just stared at Spike, trying desperately to hold on to the last remnants of self that he had. Spike moved, breaking the moment, and Xander realized that he was angry. It seemed like such a small thing - one more step down into the depravity that he lived with Spike every day, but it was a step that he wasn't sure that he could take. No matter how good it actually felt. "Please, Spike - too much." *** Spike made a soft, negative noise. He kept his attention on his own hand, thoughtfully rotating his wrist first one direction, then the other -- the broken moan, jagged like metal forced to the stressing point Xander made causing him to smirk and his cock to twitch with eagerness. "Hush, little one," he told Xander. "Do little boys decide what's too much for them, hm? No. Daddies decide." He leaned forward, twisting his hand again so that his fingers rubbed over the boy's prostate over and over. "Look at me, little one." Immediately, bruise-black eyes made sharp with anger and overwhelming emotions he probably couldn't even parse met Spike's. "Good boy. You're mine, little one. My bitch. My sweet little slut. Say it." There was method to his madness, and not just 'things that made Spike hot' the way forcing Xander to acknowledge his own perversions did. If he could talk Xander past the surprised anger, and into the trust Xander offered him instinctively, he'd be able to finish with his boy coming so hard he'd nearly snap Spike's wrist. Spike wanted that. *** Xander's lips formed the word no, but he couldn't actually get any air behind it to make any sound. His body was locking up and betraying him, as some muscles relaxed and others tensed to the breaking point. Spike hummed thoughtfully for a moment, and then there was a sharp sensation as he twisted his hand again, followed by hard pressure on his hot spot. Xander practically screamed, and something inside his head gave way. "Y-yours. Your g-good boy... Pl-please!" **** "Shhhh." Spike curled his fingers more tightly, widening Xander and rubbing his knuckles over the boy's prostate in what was more soothing than arousing, he hoped. Xander had to calm down or he'd pass out; ruining Spike's fun far too early. "That's right, little one. Daddy's good boy. Just ride it out, let it take you. Daddy's making you feel so good, isn't he? Not gonna hurt you, little slut. Just make you feel so good, riding on Daddy's fist. Letting him touch so deep inside you ... " He broke off, panting lightly while his eyes flickered over the boy's sweaty, shuddering body. "Know it feels good," he told Xander, urgency making his voice harsh. "To a bitch like you? Own you now, pet. This makes you mine." *** Gulping down air, Xander tried to regain some control, but every time he started to have success, Spike shifted his fingers again. Words - filthy, humiliating, true words - spilled over him like syrup, making him feel like he was losing his mind. Finally, unable to fight any longer, Xander let go, his body relaxing and his breathing deepening. This was going to happen regardless, and it was obvious that he was enjoying it, even if he didn't want to be. "I - I - I -" *** "Taking you," Spike continued, ignoring Xander's stuttered attempts to speak. "That's what this means, you stupid whore. Means you're mine. Means no one's going to touch this sweet cunny of yours -- " Spike clenched and twisted, wringing a sharp cry from Xander -- "without my express permission. My bitch. Say it, little one." Spike slowly began to work his arm in and out -- surreptitiously adding even more lube, despite the fact that the bed was sopping with it already -- fisting into Xander's body. "Tell Daddy you love every thing he does to you." *** He whimpered as he was stretched further than he'd ever been before. Without thinking, he dropped a hand to feel where Spike's hand was inside of him, feeling his arm then his own opening. With a cry, he convulsed around Spike's hand. "G-god, d-daddy... L-love it, l-love you." *** Xander's body wasn't resisting anymore, muscles trembling as Spike pushed and pulled however he wanted. He was being careful; the boy probably wouldn't believe it, but this was taking a fair amount of skill and effort both to make certain his three-week-past virgin wasn't screaming in agony instead of breathless and dizzy with pleasure. Spike shifted so he was on his knees, right hand threading with Xander's as the boy examined his own stretched, slick opening. Xander's forearm pushed his caged cock this way and that as he touched himself, face displaying his pained frustration even as his eyes contained nothing but wonder. Spike flexed, knuckles pressing in just a touch deeper still. "Good bitch," Spike praised him, his voice the slush you found after tires had driven through once pristine snow a few times. "You want to come, little one? Want to prove to Daddy that you're his?" *** "Oh, please," Xander begged, desperate now that his attention had been drawn back to how hard he was. "Who do you belong to?" Spike asked again, hand moving in and out in patterns that made Xander sick with want and need. "I'm yours. Please, please let me come?" Xander was throbbing inside the cage circling his cock and balls, feeling like he was going to come without even being released. It was a good thing the leather was there, or he would have already come, permission or no. *** Spike cupped Xander through the cage, feeling leather and metal press into his palm -- smirking as those same materials bit into Xander. "Soon, pretty," Spike told him, finding a rhythm that had Xander on a fast course to meltdown. Heat poured from him, a nuclear reactor of a furnace, sweat shining in the dim lighting as Xander writhed with each tiny movement inside his body. "Just a bit more. Want to hear you beg, little one. Hear just what you'll do for your treat." *** "Anything, d-daddy, I'll do anything!" Xander couldn't close his mouth, words pouring out of him as his body made its own demands. "Please, pl-please daddy - need to c-come so bad, it hurts." He shifted as much as he could, trying to get more, less, something, anything to push him off this plateau he was lodged on. "D-daddy, need it, daddy, please?" *** The thought appeared in Spike's mind. He knew he ought to give it some consideration, maybe hold it in reserve for another time -- but he was naked, with a boy clenching around his wrist, and thinking wasn't something he'd stop to analyze. Leaning forward as much as he could without hurting Xander, Spike nipped the boy's stomach and then met his eyes. "Anything, pet? Sit at my feet in front of your friends, anything? Speak to me as a little boy ought?" *** There was something... Vaguely, Xander heard Spike's words, but they didn't add up in a brain too lust addled to comprehend anything besides the overwhelming need to come. Desperate, he nodded, squirming and fighting the urge to grab at his aching cock. "Anything, daddy..." *** "You'll do it, little one," Spike promised him, words spoken directly into Xander's skin like a brand. "You'll sit at my feet dressed in leather and metal, call me Daddy in front of your prudish friends. You'll let me take you out to a club, peddle your sweet pussy -- " Spike flexed, driving in infinitesimally deeper -- "to anyone I say, and always come back like you're on a sodding leash. You'll do it because you want to. Because I tell you to. Because I'm your Daddy and you love me. Say it." Spike wasn't honestly sure what he was doing, other than turning them both on spectacularly, but in between the harsh, wet gasps for a boy nearly the edge, Spike heard, ".. love ... " "You love me." "Yeah .. " "Love your Daddy." "Yeah." Xander sobbed, bucking as Spike undid the cage, tossing it away in a less than graceful move. "Dad .. love daddy ... " "Good boy." Very carefully, Spike flexed his fingers out, spreading Xander to the point of pain -- the chip was a good yardstick for that -- and murmured, "Come, little whore." Xander gave a full-throated scream as his body convulsed, painting himself in long strips of glistening wet. *** As Xander came down from one of his most intense orgasms of his life, he felt like a washcloth, completely wrung out and sodden. Spike flexed slightly, and Xander whimpered, too completely drained to do anything but feel. "Daddy..." "I know, little one. Take a deep breath... let it out…" and as Xander did, Spike slid his hand out, making Xander cry out again, this time in pain. Spike winced as well, and Xander wanted to apologize but was too tired to think about making his mouth cooperate. Instead, he contented himself with looking hopeful and needy, taking the chance that this once Spike would be willing to curl up with him and cuddle. *** Spike's hand glistened as he rested it on a quivering thigh -- Xander's, although Spike was certain his was tense to quivering too -- slick with lube and from brushing against the inside bits that weren't actually supposed to see anything but the inside of Spike's hot, shattered boy. One who was currently fighting through exhaustion to give him puppy-dog eyes. Spike chuckled. He was hard -- very, achingly hard -- but that could wait for a bit. The way Xander had shuddered and convulsed around Spike's fist, wailing like a dying thing as he came, his belly slick and heaving as he tried to control himself ... yeah. Spike wouldn't need much at all. Stretching out on the bed, he watched as Xander forced his body to cuddle up against Spike's shoulder, sighing contentedly. Using his right hand -- he'd need to wash, soon -- Spike dragged his finger through the boy's release and brought it to lips red and swollen from being bitten so hard. "Who's are you, little one?" he asked. *** Xander slowly licked Spike's finger clean, exhaustion trying to drag him back under. "Y-yours, daddy." Spike chuckled and scooped up another finger full of come, feeding it to him like a mama bird to its baby. This time, Xander managed to pull himself up slightly, and suck and lick at Spike's finger long after it was clean, taking it as deep as he could, When Spike pulled his finger back this time, Xander cuddled in, sighing in contentment. He was tired and brainless and he was just about ready to get some sleep, *** Spike let Xander drift just until he was almost asleep -- and then yanked a lock of his hair hard enough to make his own eyes go blurry. "On my belly," he commanded, his voice soft in deference to Xander's willingness, already slithering down to slide his mouth around Spike's cock without question or complaint. "Good boy," Spike told him, stroking his hair. "Gonna fuck your mouth while you sleep, pet. And tomorrow, little one, I'm going to hold you to that promise you made." The one that Xander probably didn't remember promising. The one that he'd be terrified of, sleepily sucking on Spike's cock as exhaustion and this new worry swirled underneath soft, dark hair. Yeah. Spike could nap to that. Part Five The End Search: The Web Angelfire Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Summary: In Something Blue, Willow made Xander a demon magnet -- except only the skankiest of demons decided to play with the pretty. What if Spike decided that Xander was tasty-looking, along with the rest of demonic Sunnydale? What would he do? *g* Disclaimer: Not ours, no money, don't sue Distribution: our websites, eventually, here, if you want it, let us know Warnings: D/s, hints of bondage, basically, Winterkitten's kinks of parade A/N: MUCH LOVE to our betas. You lovely ladies rocketh muchly. Why We Love Willow by Lady Cat 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Part One Xander pulled Anya into an alcove as they raced down the empty alleyway and clapped a hand over her mouth. He stood, silent and panting, praying the demons chasing them wouldn't notice. They went running by, Larry, Curly and Moe, as Xander had dubbed them, flashes of horns and scales, mucus footprints left behind. Giles. Gotta get to Giles. In his arms, Anya was stiff and angry, but blessedly still. Cautiously, Xander poked his head out of the little nook to check the coast for clearness. "Oh, will you just go on ahead!" Spike snarled at Buffy. "I'll go back to the shop like a good little lad, but I'm not walking next to you and that cloud of perfume you drench yourself in. Some of us have a predator’s sense of smell!" Buffy flounced and did her girly version of a snarl -- not nearly as pretty as Dru's had been -- and finally stomped off, muttering threats if Spike did not, in fact, go right back to Giles the way he'd promised. Spike waited until she disappeared over the rise. Thank Christ. Thought she'd never leave. Holding himself absolutely still, Spike smelled. Scented. There was something in the air that smelled fantastic, and now that Buffy was gone, he just needed a moment to orient where it was -- And what the hell other demons were doing, getting close to it! Roaring, Spike sprinted through Giles' courtyard and into an alley nearby, to where several demons converged on a huddled couple. "Mine," he snarled at them, efficiently dispatching all three demons into mulch before turning around to see what the hell smelled that good. All he saw were Anya and Xander. Oh, please tell me it's Anya. "Spike," Xander sneered, lip curling. "Spike!" Anya exclaimed, "you saved us!" She smiled happily and pushed Xander away to go drape her arms over her savior. Xander watched her, aghast. Spike knew the second Anya touched him that she wasn't the one that smelled so good. Fuck. Buggering fuck, it’s Xander. Why the hell does he have to be the one to smell like a gourmet course of Slayer's blood, liberally sprinkled with Sire's? He didn’t smell good enough already? "Er, right," he said aloud, trying to extricate himself from Anya's clinging shape. "Just ... bein' nice. Or something." Xander made a move out of his protective alcove and Spike stopped caring that it was Xander and instead thought mine!. Diving forward, Spike quickly trapped him back inside. "Where do you think you're going, then, pet?" he purred. Xander shrank back against his wall, both horrified and grateful. Horrified, because Spike was, uh... being Spike, only he was being the Spike that Spike usually was to Buffy, only to him... Xander took a moment to be grateful that the force of Anya's fury was no longer directed at him, but then Anya set her hands on her hips and glared at Spike, and it was clear: the contest had just begun. "Hey," she demanded, indignant. "You're supposed to save the damsel in distress. Even I know that, and I'm a demon! Or, I was..." Spike paid her no attention, choosing instead to focus on Xander (very alarming!) and Anya rolled her eyes and swished off. "Fine," she tossed over her shoulder, "Xander, I'll see you later. I'm sure Spike can protect you. Damn things are only going after you anyway." "Anya!" Xander was concerned. For her safety. He was sure she was wrong about those demons, they could be going after her too. She unquestionably should not have left him alone with... "Let her go, pet," Spike instructed. She was irrelevant. Just about everything was in the face of the deliciousness before him. "She's right, anyway. God, you smell ... " Inhaling deeply, Spike allowed the scent to roll over him, soaking into his skin. Then he smiled a bright, toothy smile. "… good." Terrified-Xander smelled even better. "Come on, pet." Coaxing now, because he wanted to go out, away, where nothing else could smell what was Spike's now. "Let's get out of here. Want to see if you taste as good as you smell." What? "What?" Whoa! "Whoa!" Xander put his hands against Spike's chest and pushed. Vampire much too close to mortal! Distance is important! He pushed hard, trying his level best not to completely freak out. Spike did not budge. Okay. Subtle hints not working. Time to get mouthy. Talky! "Spike," Xander reasoned, "drugs and vampirism do not mix. Unless you've recently had a chipectomy, there will be no... tasting." Spike knew damned well how wicked this grin looked; minions and dinners made effective mirrors. "Oh, no?" Pushing Xander -- gently, so fucking gently -- back against the wall, Spike's head darted forward to lick a broad path from shoulder to jaw. And damned near came in his pants. "Oh, yeah," he purred, moving even closer, fitting their bodies together. "You taste good, pet. Gonna taste you everywhere I want, get as much of this as I need... " Xander's thought process was stuck in neutral, his mental wheels spinning in the... Spike. His brain played with the permutations of the phrase 'Spike licked me', trying out the emphasis on every word and finding that all were plausible. Then, as he was trying out two words at once, Spike began to talk. “...taste you everywhere...” WHOA! This time he did push, hard, and Spike stumbled back. Xander darted out into the alley, blindly tripping over a wayward box and landing right on his ass. When he looked up, Spike had his bearings and was advancing. This was not happening. This was impossible, it was... Magic! Obviously! "Ah ha!" he shouted, as though catching Spike in a lie, pointing his finger. Spike paused, momentary concern on his face, and looked around for some threat. "You're magicked! Jinxed! Bedazzled!" Xander burst out. "There's something Hellmouthy in Denmark, and I am lookin’ at him! We gotta get to Giles..." Spike growled, low and menacing. "And let him have you? Not a chance. You're mine now." Of course, the lumbering stomp of several demons filtered through street noise to inform Spike that several other demons had the same idea. No chance. I'm William the Bloody and this boy is mine. Angelus gave him to me, and I'm not letting go. Grabbing Xander's arm as tightly as he dared, Spike hauled him up and slightly behind him. "Hang on," he growled, "take care of this shortly." It was on the tip of Xander's tongue to deny Spike's insane claim, but when he saw the dinosaurs coming down the street he decided to let the loopy vampire think whatever he wanted, so long as he was between the demons and Xander. The fight went fast. Spike made mincemeat out of the bad guys, fighting with a ferocity Xander hadn't seen in a while. There wasn't any of the trademark Spike glee for violence, just rage. It was extremely intimidating, actually, and even though Xander knew Spike couldn't hurt him, he found in himself the tiniest bit of respect for the vicious creature. He'd seen enough violence for long enough now that he knew competent fighting when he saw it. This wasn't just random destruction. It was art. Spike was savage in his destruction. Gonna send a message. This one is mine, now, and nobody touches him but me. To that end, he made sure that one little creature, almost terrier-like, that had slinked in towards the end of the massacre stayed alive. Snatching it up, Spike shook it until it whimpered, hissing through his fangs. "This one's mine," he growled. "Spread the word. No one touches him. No one even fucking looks at him. Mine." The little demon whimpered and whined, its bright green eyes lowered in submission. Good. Chucking the thing away, Spike turned back to make sure Xander hadn't taken it into his head to dash off. Not that Spike wouldn't follow, a demented Pepe Le Pew, but he didn't want to have to. "Good," he growled when he saw Xander where he'd been left. Reaching his side, Spike hauled the boy close, sniffing and nuzzling his neck. "That goes for you, too, pet. Mine now." He bit down very, very gently. Not intending to hurt, not wanting to cause any pain but the good kind. Skin bunched between his teeth, the taste exploding on his tongue. God, so good. "Oookay," Xander nervously chuckled, easing his skin from between Spike's teeth. "You are venturing into the realm of the very weird now. Think I liked it better when you were just plain evil." Xander shook off the shivery-tingly feeling that had spread through his limbs and tried to pry Spike's fingers off his jacket. "We gotta get to Giles. Or Willow. If you're under a spell, maybe she can..." Spike growled and shook Xander lightly. Part of him waited anxiously for the chip to go off, watching cautiously and allowing him ever-increasing strength as the chip remained silent -- so far. The rest of him was focused on Xander and the scent of him. He wanted to bathe in it, if he could. "No Giles. Not letting his Ripperness get a whiff of you, boy. He's been around demons enough to know how good you smell and want you for himself. And Red's right out, too. She'd only take you away from me." Spike switched his attentions to the other side of Xander's neck, treating it to the same licking, nuzzling, and then gentle, slightly more forceful, biting. Sweet fancy Moses. Shivery-tingly is back, and he brought friends. Trying desperately to clear his head and make his knees work, Xander pushed at Spike again, finding it very hard to dislodge the firm hands and his fingers weirdly uncooperative as well. "Man," he joked, "how do you vamps get anyone bit with all this flirting?" He'd hoped to shock Spike out of his bloodlust with some highly inappropriate insinuation. He was disappointed. Without releasing Xander, Spike growled and thrust his hips against the boy's, knowing Xander'd recognize the thick length there for what it was. Warm. Warm and sweet and never lettin' you go again. Scraping his teeth gently, Spike backed off enough to admire the red marks he'd created. Pretty. "Don't want to bite you, boy," he murmured. "Why'd I want to do that? Less you want me to?" Suddenly burning with the notion, Spike grabbed Xander's head and yanked it down so they were eye level. "Do you want me to bite you? Think the chip might not react if you want it." He added another hip roll, not sure if it was encouragement or to keep the boy disoriented. Either way, it felt bloody good. Oh. My. God. Spike thrust up against him, and he couldn't help but feel the thick erection as it ground into his belly. To his extreme embarrassment, he felt his own dick twitch at the contact, filling and stretching like Pavlov's dog licked his chops after that freaking bell. How many times had he lain in bed after that debacle at the school, when he and Spike had first met, cock thrusting through his fingers and trying to forget? How many times had he fought it, filling his mind with Angelina Jolie or Jeri Ryan, desperately avoiding the blond punk until he was too far gone, just needed the one image to push him over? Of how Spike looked at him, every time they met, seeming somehow to see right through all Xander's snark and hate to find exactly what he wanted? Arrogant prick. And now, here it was, the real thing, and Xander was screaming at his cock to get down, for fuck's sake, not the fantasy, not playtime, but it wouldn't listen. He wrenched his attention back to the question at hand, trying to focus. "Do I want you to... bite me? You mean kill me dead? No, thanks, Spike. There's always drugs if things get that bad." He squirmed in Spike's grip. Gotta get some distance here, some space... Oh, yeah. Move for me, pet. Spike rode the boy's struggles, grinning as he maneuvered him against the wall to get some balance. "Don't want to kill you. I'd lose all of this if I did and nothing's taking it away from me. You're mine. Angelus gave you to me, and it's about time,” he nipped Xander’s neck again, “I claimed you." "Okay," Xander breathed as he felt the wall come up hard against his back, felt Spike's cock entrench itself against his hip. "I mean, no! I mean, that's a ridiculous and insane thing to say and do and think of, and there is no way on God's green earth we are doing anything involving that!" Xander tried to remember. This was not fantasy Spike, who would be caring and gentle and kiss and lick. Nor was it the fantasy Spike who would fuck like an animal, but still never hurt him. This was the Spike of reality, who was evil, and therefore as like as not to find a way to kill him when free of the spell. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to forestall the inevitable long enough to stop it. "Spike, I... I have to make a phone call!" Inspiration! "I have to call Willow. She'll come looking for us if she doesn't know where I am, Anya will tell her and Buffy and ...!" Spike backed off a little, cocking his head while he thought that over. Buffy was already going to throw a fit over his broken promise. And it was possible Anya had already told them of Xander's little demon problem and Spike's rescue, but taking that chance ... the Scoobies did have a distressing habit of checking up on each other. "Fine." Grabbing Xander's wrist in an iron grip, Spike began power-walking towards the boy's basement. He wanted a bed for this, dammit, and he wanted -- chains! Rupert had chains, he knew, but going there would definitely mean losing the boy. Fucking chip. Nothing for it, I'll just have to use whatever he's got handy. "We'll call from your place. I'm there to guard you. Actually, better yet, I'll do the calling. You can just shout as appropriate." The part of his brain that watched for chip-reaction was fairly surprised that Xander hadn't done more to try and fight him off. After all, Spike couldn't hurt him. All Xander needed was a good shove and a yell to the nearest human -- hell, they were close enough to Rupert's that the Slayer might possibly hear. So, if he hadn't done that, and was in fact scrambling along behind him ... Spike started to grin. Evilly. His place? No. No way. His parents would be home. Which meant... well, it meant lots of things. Recovering from the sudden shock of being nearly yanked off his feet, Xander dug in his heels, using the arm dragging him along as a leash to drag Spike back. "No," he insisted firmly. Spike turned, eyes wide in disbelief, but Xander hastened to explain. Or, make something up so Spike would go with it and not ask very embarrassing questions. "Not the basement. I... I don't think it's appropriate for a c-c-claiming, because... because I'm special and you should take me someplace. Someplace nice." Xander nodded, satisfied with that. He could use a pay phone somewhere along the way to call Willow, and then Buffy would come to rescue him and there would be no aloneness with Spike at any time. Knew he'd see it my way. "Wanna be treated right, do you? Fine with me. Intended on making it up to you, anyway." Pulling Xander close to him again, oblivious to the not-totally-deserted streets around them, Spike let his hand cup between the boy's legs, the heel rubbing over the boy's cock. "Such a pressie Angelus gave me. Should've taken you long, long ago. That's right, pet, arch into me like that," he crooned when the boy reacted -- probably against his will, not that Spike cared much -- and thrust into Spike's fingers. "Makes you smell even better... " Ohmygodohmygodohmygod... Spike's clever fingers stroked over his balls, the base of his cock, sliding up and down, and his palm cupped around and... ohhh. Xander arched his hips toward that sensation, so good, with the pressure and moving... and then tore himself away. He spun out of Spike's arms and held an arm extended, flat of one palm facing the seductive blond, breath heaving. "No," he said, buying time, groping for a good reason for 'no' at the same time. Then, it hit: "Everyone will see me out here, the way..." He stumbled over this part, but forced it past unwilling lips. "...the way only you should." The fire in Spike's eyes banked itself as he saw reason, and Xander felt confident enough to add, "And we've gotta stop at a pay phone." Part Two He wants it. Confident now that Xander'd shown just how badly he wanted a bit of Spike, his shoulders dropped back, belly out to show the world his cocky -- literally -- stance. "Good pet you are," he purred, drawing Xander close to him again and leading him in a slow waltz-step. "Mmm. All right. Not gonna run, are you? Cause don't think I'll let you go, now. Might even let the Phik demons round that bend knock you out a bit, before I tear 'em apart. Just to make sure you stay mine." Oh, hell yeah. Fear mixed in with lust and the smell of Xander, creating something that was damned near intoxicating. Wait a minute. Demons round the corner, going after my boy? Not a fucking chance. Throwing Xander over his shoulder, Spike took off. He had a destination, a motel chain run by a compatriot of Willy's that he could bluff into a room for the night. It wasn't quite the silk sheets and champagne he wanted, but it'd do. And there'd be a sodding pay phone there. They ran. If Xander clung to Spike's back, if he somewhat enjoyed bouncing around on Spike's shoulder, if the rag-doll-ness of his situation made him shiver, then surely it was the incipient death by Phik demon that made it so. Whatever the hell a Phik demon was. Getting a room was easy as he'd thought. The little mousy human, who had no idea that Spike couldn't actually do more than glare at him, cowered and simpered when Spike flashed a bit of fang and hurriedly got Spike and his 'friend' a key. "Need to use your phone, too," Spike said when the key was finally in his hand. "Here, turn it round, let my boy make a call." Phone turned, Spike pushed Xander up against the barrier and waited until he'd dialed, bringing the headset up to his ear. Then he pushed up against Xander's backside, rubbing his cock against the firm curves he found underneath baggy jeans -- and pressing Xander's erection up against the cheap wood varnish as well. Oh, yeah, pet. Think I'm gonna let you have a chance to screw me over? Nothin' doin'. Make your call and then you 'n' me are gonna have some fun. Hasty whisper, ignore the guy behind the counter, definitely ignore the Spike pressing into my ass... "Willow. It's me. I'm fine. No, Will, I'm fine. Listen. I'm with Spike. I'm fine. Don't... Willow, listen. He's... there's magic at work, okay? We're in a motel. I can't tell you. No. Because, I just can't. So... Will! Find out what the hocus pocus is and break it, okay?" He risked a glance over his shoulder. "And you better make it quick." He handed the phone back to the guy behind the counter. "Thanks." Spike thought about how he was supposed to respond to that as he led Xander away from the front desk to their 'room'. Bed, dresser, mirror, serviceable bathroom. Wasn't spectacular, but it seemed reasonably clean and Spike'd take it for now. Shoving Xander -- gently -- onto the bed, Spike waited for him to scramble around onto his back before settling himself over Xander's hips. "Now, then," he said thoughtfully, hands splaying on Xander's chest, effectively immobilizing him. His thumbs found already-peaked nipples underneath the shirt and rubbed. "What should I do first, hm? ‘Specially since you've got Red on the case. Not that there's much of one, really. You were mine long before you smelled this good. Gonna still be mine, even if she makes it go away." Xander scrambled back, shoulders coming up against the headboard. He cast around desperately for a way to delay this until Will could get in with the fix. Because no matter what Spike said, Xander fervently believed that all this wanting of Xander would be stopping as soon as the spell was broken. It had to be. Shower? No, wet and naked. Shopping? He almost snorted at the thought. Food! Food could work! "W-wait," he stuttered, trying to sound casual. "Before we... this... can we get some food? I'm pretty hungry..." His eyes narrowed. "Weren't hungry before." Is Xander playing me? Little shit. If he thinks I'm gonna let that go ... Spike was fully prepared to take good care of his new pet -- but getting played by him wasn't an option. Settling back, Spike ground his ass against Xander's cock. He toyed with the boy's nipples again, eyes busy canvassing the room. All he needed was -- perfect! Waiting for Xander to go all panting and glaze-eyed from lust, Spike struck. The scrap of toweling was torn into five serviceable strips in moments, Xander's arms firmly secured to the headboard -- full of such lovely holes and niches to work with -- in the next. Working on Xander's legs, Spike smirked up at him. "Now, then. If you're really hungry, you'll accept a high-protein snack. And if all you're trying to do is get rid of me, well, you've got nowhere to go, do you?" Xander tugged at his bonds, unable to believe that this was really happening. They didn't move, and he began to panic. Guile had clearly failed, and it was time to try truth. "Spike, please try to understand. You're under a spell. When Willow breaks it, if you're... if we're... doing stuff, you're gonna be so mad!" The at me was not added to the end of that sentence... but Xander thought it. Little shit. But a scared little shit, and now Spike's little shit, and it was up to Spike to calm him down. Resettling himself on Xander's cock, Spike made sure his slow, long touches to Xander’s chest and belly weren't at all arousing. Well, not intentionally arousing, anyway. "Shhhh, shh, pet. Calm down. Not gonna hurt you, and I'm not gonna get mad at you. Not your fault you smell so damned good." His hands ran up Xander's body, over his stretched arms to rub just below where the terrycloth tied him. Slithering until their chests and cocks met fully, Spike began placing deep, sucking kisses on Xander's neck and collar bone. "Don't you see, pet? I don't give a rat’s arse what this spell is. Doesn't make you smell any different. Just reminds me how damned good that is." Xander tried to listen to that, really tried. But it was... hard. The slow, insidious friction that was Spike's hips against his. The wet kisses on his neck, full of pressure and demanding his attention. It was enough to distract him, pull his mind away from what it should be doing and make it focus on Spike, Spike, Spike... But it didn't stop him from being terrified of the whole fucking thing. Just because he wanted the fantasy didn't make the reality any more familiar, any less petrifying. He'd accepted the fact that he was attracted to men... well, attracted to Spike, anyway... way back. But the whole process was a mystery. A painful-sounding mystery. And Xander had unquestionably never asked anyone anything about it. Which left Spike. Xander's one hope for a gentle initiation into these things was a vampire. He could have laughed out loud ... but he had to try to say something. "Just... could you just try and be... slow? With me? Cause, y'know, not the most comfortable in the world with this..." And suddenly the boy's fear made a lot of sense. Well, other than a human's normal fear towards the undead -- but Xander hadn't been scared of him in too long, so figuring out this fear made him relax a touch. Lifting his head, Spike continued slithering against him like a snake but managed a smile -- probably even a sincere one. "You forget, pet. Can't hurt you, can I? Can't do anything you don't want me to. And you want me to do this, don't you, boy? Want me to put my mouth all over you. Touch your cock, let you touch mine. Oh, you want it, you lovely, lovely boy. Don't you worry, now. I'll make sure you get it. I'll make sure you love it." Xander writhed under Spike's words. They were sensual, yes, but also reassuring and surprisingly perceptive, and Xander's fear lifted somewhat. Spike's voice, smoothing over his fears, painted elaborate pictures in his mind. There was one that stood out in sharp certainty, and he wanted it with a shockingly hot passion. "Yeah," he agreed, a sigh of acknowledgment. Everything Spike said was true. Cautiously, he risked a glance into Spike's eyes, and tugged on the strips that bound his wrists. "Could you... I mean, I won't go anywhere, but I want..." He wanted his hands. His palms tingled with anticipation. He wanted to touch. Spike wriggled until he was resting on Xander comfortably. "Finally understand it, do you?" Xander's lips were warm and soft, slightly damp from the humidity of his breath. They tasted both salty and sweet, mixed up into something that was almost better than the scent of him. What was supposed to be just a brush of a kiss, a reward for learning his place, turned into the kind of face-sucking snogging Spike hadn't been entirely certain they'd share. But that taste ... he wanted more of it, all of it, wanted to fucking bathe in it, surround himself with it until he was higher than he got on the drugs he occasionally toyed with. "Fuck, so good," he murmured in between kisses. Let the boy breathe, Spike, he's still human. "Taste so good." Spike pulled away and Xander tried to chase after him, forgetting that his wrists were bound, forgetting that he was heaving air into his lungs. Spike was talking, and then kissing again, and Xander fell under the onslaught with barely a thought of protest. It's too easy, his brain whispered. This is too fast. I shouldn't want him like this, so much, so fast... But Spike kissed like breathing, the need for what Xander could give so clear, so urgent, and Xander'd never been needed like that in his whole life before now. It was just kissing. It wasn't like anything really crazy had happened. It was just kissing. Never letting go of that agile, hot mouth, Spike dragged the pads of his fingers down the length of Xander's body. The line of Xander's hip heaved under his touch, straining upward with an urgency that helped abate some of Spike's. "Eager boy. You want this, don't you, pet? Had fantasies about me pushing you down and just taking what I want? Letting me break you in so slow, so perfect, screaming for more as I push my cock inside you. That what you want, pet? That what you've dreamed about?" His fingers found the hard, throbbing length of Xander's cock, still trapped behind metal teeth and restraining denim. Tracing over the length of it, Spike could feel when he found the vein -- the swift rush, rush of blood pumping away -- and concentrated on touching only there. "Ohhh, God..." Spike's touch was fire, licking over his skin and setting him squirming and arching. He was losing track of... what was... ah, yes. "Sometimes," he answered timidly, not having the faintest idea why he was confessing this now, except that it might keep Spike touching him, keep that hand moving over his straining skin. "Sometimes you let me... do things. Touch you. I come home and you're waiting for me, all the blinds drawn. And you have the... the duster on, so I can't think, and you come up and take my hand and make me... ahh!" "Make you what?" Spike shifted so he was only half-leaning on Xander, shoving his cock against the boy's hip with every tight roll of his hips. "Tell me, boy. Want to hear all the things you've wanted to do, wanted me to do to you. And then we're gonna do them, pet." Well, within reason. Spike knew the chip offered certain limitations, and there were probably a few things that were bound to come up, later. Speaking of coming up, though, Want these off, wanna feel his skin against me. So fuckin' hot, and he smells so good. Backing off so that a single nail moved up and down Xander's cock, teasing him, Spike sucked up another mark on the boy's neck. Would the boy throw a fit if Spike just ripped his clothes off? He might. But that meant untying him, and damn if Xander didn't look so luscious, spread taut and tight on the bed. The nervy singing over his cock was distracting, yeah, but not nearly so much as Spike's hard length pushing against his hip. His face burned with shame, and he kept his eyes lowered, looking at the window, the door, anywhere but Spike. He answered, his harsh breathing and gasps as he spelled out his fantasies to their object. "You'd make me... touch you... bring my... hand down your chest and under the... shirt. Oh, g-god... and then you'd undo your jeans and you weren't hurting me, so the chip wouldn't fire, and you'd make me touch you... there..." "Where?" Spike purred. "Here? Where I'm touching you?" Such a responsive creature Xander was, delectable and sweet underneath him. Spike rubbed forehead, nose, cheeks, and mouth into the boy's flushed face, soaking up heat scented with the smell of Xander. "You want to touch my cock, pet? Want to feel how hard you make me?" Interesting that the boy hadn't wanted Spike to touch him. Not that Spike was objecting, of course. Object to finding a tasty treat like this one? Never. That he's already got the attitude down, sweet and giving without even a thought to himself, is whipped-topping bonus. "Yes," Xander hissed, lost in the feel of Spike's fingers tracing over his throbbing length, unable to hold it back. Just like that, the words spilling from him, confession in the dark. "Wanted to. You'd make me but I wanted to, and I didn't want you to know but you knew, somehow, and you let my hand go and then I was touching you by myself. And I wanted to run, but I didn't, and instead I... I..." Always, the next part made him come, the thought of dropping to his knees and sucking Spike into his mouth. Alone in his basement, he'd bring his own fingers to his lips, and he'd pretend the taste was Spike, and he'd come, stripping his cock hard. And how did he say that out loud without exploding in shame? Spike growled, low and long as the pheromone level coming off Xander abruptly spiked. Had a secret, did he? A doozy of one, if it gets him this hot. Deftly, Spike unbuttoned and unzipped Xander's pants, repeating his attentions with only soaked boxers between him and Xander's cock. "Aren't you a treasure, hm? Can't wait to touch me. Make me feel good. That get you hot, pet? Working my cock harder and harder in your big, hot hands? Bet you wanted to do more, though, didn't you? Bet you wanted something else... " Spike nudged the boy's head towards him, capturing his mouth in a punishing kiss that ended up with Spike sucking on Xander's tongue like it was a cock. And I'll definitely be tasting that, oh yes. His come'll be like the finest wine. "Tell me, pet. Can't do it if you don't say it. Come on, baby, tell me." Small voice. Low and hushed. Maybe if it's low and hushed, if it's quiet enough, Spike won't hear it. Nobody will ever, ever hear it, and it won't be true. I won't want it. "I would give you... I would lean in, and it would... there'd be this smell. This good smell, like baking bread or high tide... and I'd open m-my mouth and..." He was almost hyperventilating, the fantasy so practiced he was almost submerged in it, could smell the scent of it, his mouth watering. "I would s-s-suck you, Spike. God, I w-want..." Spike thrummed deep in his chest. The words were soft, rice-paper thin, and almost had Spike coming against Xander's hip like a bloke with his first hooker. "That's a good boy, pet. So good for tellin' me that, doing as I asked you to. Want to suck me, pet? Want to feel me, so hard and thick on your tongue? Stretching your jaw wide, so wide, as I let you taste me?" Practically riding along Xander's thigh, Spike shifted just enough that he could free his right hand. He ran his thumb over the boy's shiny-wet lower lip, pressing softly against the plump center. He could feel Xander, so tense and wanting against him ... The thumb slid in. "Suck me, pet. Just this, for now, but you'll get what you want. Wanna feel what you're gonna do to my cock." The finger pressed at his lip and Xander trembled. God, oh, God, this was not slowing down. This was not gentle. This was instant exposition of his most secret fantasies, and Spike exploiting those fantasies, and god, could it be any more fucking hot in here? He let his lips fall apart, just the tiniest bit, and felt Spike push into him. If it had tasted of slick pre-come, that thumb, Xander would have exploded, he was sure. As it was, he tasted bitter and salt, as he let his tongue rest against the pad. He closed his lips over Spike, shaking with nervousness. What if he was no good? Would Spike leave? How could he possibly be good at this? Reflexively, his tongue dragged slowly over Spike's thumb. More of the salty flavor slid over Xander's taste buds, and he swallowed it down, surprised to find that his mouth closed tight and Spike's thumb was trapped inside as he did so. Spike growled as Xander's mouth tightened on him, and Xander interpreted that as good, more. Again, tentatively, he licked and swallowed, this time trying to keep Spike tight in his mouth, trapped, as he had before. The response was... favorable. Spike's cock, already hard and protesting its entrapment, throbbed at the feel of those pouty, nervous lips closing around his finger, hothotwet suction trapping the digit between a tentative tongue and the ridges at the roof of Xander's mouth. "Oh, yeah, pet. That's a good boy." He rubbed the pad of his thumb against the roughness of the boy's tongue, the rest of his fingers curving around the boy's jaw, stroking gently. "Gonna give you what you want, pet. Gonna give you everything you've dreamed about. Let you taste me as I fill you up, fill you so good... " Finger-sucking shouldn't make Spike this hard and this ready to come -- but the way Xander's eyes rolled, wanting and nervous and so, desperately needy... "How do you want to be, pet? On your knees, me above you? On your belly, while I stretch out comfy on the bed?" A thought occurred to Xander. Spike was under a spell, so it was almost like this wasn't really him. When Willow reversed the effects, all the memory of this might disappear. Or he might just dismiss it as fever-induced dreaming. Or Xander could say he'd been under a spell, too. It was like a get-out-of-inhibitions-free card. "Nes," he said around bespelled-and-therefore-not-really-Spike's finger, and when that finger was pulled from his lips, he swallowed, licked dry lips, and repeated it softly. "Knees," he near-whispered. "In my... when I think of it... I'm always on my knees for you." Control. Spike had to control himself, or he was going to come long before he ever sank between the lips he was currently kissing. "Want a bit of pain, do you, pet? Such a good lad you are." Levering himself off of Xander's body nearly made him moan in disappointment, but he did it. He removed the boy's shoes and socks, then -- carefully – did his jeans back up. "You leave these on," he instructed as he chafed the boy's ankles before slowly undoing his wrists and chafing them. "Hear me? The jeans stay on until I take 'em off, and not before. Now then, pet. Off with the shirt, then down you go, there's a lad." Part Three Oh, no. This... he was going to do it! Xander's hands were free, but he still couldn't make himself move. Fantasy, reality... Firmly, he reminded himself that this wasn't real. Not really. Spike wasn't really Spike, and this wasn't really happening. It was all a spell. It wasn't for real. His fear lessened, and if his heart hurt a little, it wasn't enough to stop him from sitting up, swinging his legs to the side of the bed and undoing the buttons on his shirt. One by one, he edged them through their buttonholes, and when the shirt was loose around him, he slid it off his shoulders. He felt a surge of pride - hard work for not much money had made him lean, defined. He knew he had a good body. Carefully, he slid off the bed and onto his knees, shuffling forward and placing his hands hesitantly on Spike's hips. He leaned his head back and looked up, waiting for some kind of instruction. Despite his confidence, his tummy was fluttery, still, and he didn't want to do this wrong. Spike threaded his fingers through the boy's long hair, watching the waves of dark, nearly black locks cascade over his skin once, twice, three times. On the fourth pass he allowed his fingers to tangle up in the strands, formed a fist and pulled very, very lightly. Xander's head immediately went back, eyes wide -- and mmm, there it was. That heady burst of the boy's arousal. "You look perfect there, pet. At my feet, waiting for whatever I tell you. I'll teach you how to do this with just your mouth, pet, but for now you're allowed the use of your hands. Take off my boots, and the jeans. Nicely, now," he cautioned, squeezing his hand tight in a way that Spike knew would never set the chip off. Breath slow and shaking, Xander cupped his hand around Spike's right heel and pulled gently. Spike complied with the unspoken request, and Xander lifted his knee, placed the booted foot on it and began untying the laces. They came apart easily, the old, ragged Doc sliding into his hands as soon as the task was complete. Satisfied, he quickly started on the next. This part was easy. When both boots sat neatly to one side, Xander began to sweat. This was the hard part, and the pun was most certainly intended. He lifted surprisingly stable hands to Spike's jeans, and then glanced up for reassurance. This was right, wasn't it? Was he supposed to be sexier, somehow? Spike looked down at him, blue eyes darkened with lust, and Xander took that for encouragement. With not a little wonder, he touched careful fingers to Spike's belly. Cold! It was as though Spike had just stepped in from outside, his skin chilled by a harsh wind. But at the same time, there was the softness he'd imagined, and he allowed the tips of his fingers to glide over the flesh there. They couldn't move far, though, before they ran into the black leather and harsh denim of Spike's jeans and belt, and Xander again swallowed. Focused, he began to pull apart the leather, heard the jingle of the buckle, and unconsciously licked his lips. Inside his jeans, his cock was aching. I've had virgins before. Fucked 'em, and made 'em love it, and Christ, pogo-fucking Christ! Each terrified, wanting-it-so-badly-he-was-gagging-for-it movement had Spike so desperate to come that he knew he'd have to do something to take the edge off. Stroking the boy's hair back from his face again, Spike ran his thumb over that lower lip, dipping inside briefly. "Good boy," he crooned. "That's very good. Keep going, pet." It was good to have the encouragement, if nothing else. A little faster, Xander pulled the belt off, enjoying the tugging feel of it slithering through the loops. When it was out, he put it to one side, with the boots. Okay, Xan-man. Moment of truth. He lifted his fingers again to Spike's waist, and gently slid his fingers between Spike's belly and the denim. Immediately, the tips encountered a blunt, slick surface, and Xander jumped and pulled his hands back. Spike hissed at the contact, but Xander barely noticed. He was staring at his fingertip, and the tiny bit of fluid that had collected there when he'd touched Spike's cock. Definitely trembling now, he slowly lifted that shining fingertip to his mouth. When he touched it to his tongue, his hand shot out and gripped the fabric covering Spike's leg as his eyes fluttered shut. Oh, God, it's better than I thought. Much, much better... He felt his cock pulse in his jeans, an insistent, hard thrum that skittered over his nerve endings and made him shiver violently, the spasm skittering over his whole body and leaving him still. The rapture on the boy's face nearly undid him. "Right," he rasped. "Looks like both of us need the bloody edge off. Undo me, pet. Want you to see what you're gonna be sucking on." The boy was what, nineteen? He'd get his hard on back in twenty minutes, tops, given how badly he wanted Spike's cock. And Spike knew he'd have no problem with getting another erection, not with the pretty, pretty boy between his legs. Xander didn't want to wait anymore. The hint of taste lit a fire under him, and he attacked the bindings with fervor. Frustrated, he wondered when people had changed jeans so you needed a crowbar to get past the button, but it finally came apart and he pulled the zipper down, trying to ignore the hardness against the backs of his fingers. Averting his eyes to Spike's feet, he carefully pulled the jeans down, helped Spike step out of them and then tossed them on top of Spike's boots. Finally, there were no more excuses; he sat back on his heels and let his gaze climb. Feet. Legs. Knees - surprisingly pretty. Thighs. Cock. He was drawn up, his hands rising without his knowledge. Want, his mind said, in the kind of tone reserved for radio announcers and people testing speakers - all encompassing, and very important. Spike started petting the boy's hair again, feeling the swish of locks moving against his fingers and the silken heat of him. "Now, then," he said softly. "Gonna make you an offer, pet. You can stand up right now, and I'll take care of both of us, so we can enjoy this properly. Or you can promise me that you will not come until I say you can. 'S up to you, pet." He couldn't help forming a fist again, pulling Xander's hair just hard enough to make him moan, his other hand busy tracing over lips and nose and soft, blinking eyes. Regardless of Xander's decision, Spike needed to come, and soon, or he was gonna pop the second Xander touched his mouth to his cock. What? Xander looked up at Spike abruptly. "Those choices suck," he said, emphatically. "I'm not getting up, no way, no how. But..." And his voice dropped right back down, as fast as it had risen. "I can't make you any promises about not coming if I get to..." And he returned his eyes to Spike's cock, eyes longing, teeth worrying his lower lip. Spike tugged on his fistful of hair even harder. "Not to worry, pet. Not gonna deny you what you want. Just want to make sure we enjoy it properly. Take the edge off a little, so there's no rush, no hurry." His free hand dropped to his own hard cock, stroking it, purposefully working the foreskin back and forth so he was almost winking at the boy, pre-come glistening. He could see the boy's mouth water. "I wanna feel you," he purred, dropping to that low, sexy, commanding voice that worked so well. "Wanna let you suck me as long as you want to, pet. Enjoy every second of it. And to do that, pet, I need you to do this. You want to, don't you lad? Want to watch me stroke off as much as I want to see you. Let me see your cock, boy. Don't have to get up. But I want to see your hand moving on your cock." Xander was hypnotized. The pale hand moving on pale cock entranced him, and Spike's subsequent commands had him moving before he even thought. He dropped his hands between his legs and tore open his jeans. His dick was so full, it almost hurt to move it into a comfortable position for stroking, but Xander persevered, tugging it out of the fabric. One touch and he was close. Really, really close. His eyes were locked to Spike's hips, and he unconsciously tried to match the rhythm that pale hand set. "Spike," he breathed, "want... want you to make me..." He was pushing up into his own hand, hips lifting off his heels, offering himself. "Spike, please..." "Good boy, Xander. Very good, doing just like I tell you to," Spike breathed. "Use your other hand now, want you to catch it, pet. Not waste a single drop for me. Cup your hand -- that's right. That's good." His own hand sped up, but Spike knew when he would come. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting the boy's essence. When Xander's hand was positioned properly, he said in a low, hard voice, "Come, boy. Come for me now." Instantly, Xander’s fingers tightened on his cock, pressing the head and tugging just right, and the orgasm tore through him, wracking his body, making him lean back against the bed. He cried out, high-pitched and keening, just once, as he filled his hand with his own hot spunk. "Jesus," he heaved, when he could speak again. "Don't lose it," Spike hissed, leaning forward to watch as much as he could. "Not a bit of it, pet, not a single drop. Got it? Now bring your hand up to me, pet. Good boy, that's good." He snarled with eagerness, his hand squeezing around the base of his cock to stave of his orgasm that much longer. This was the scent that'd been driving him crazy. This was what he wanted, what all those other demons had wanted. And Xander was giving it to him. Of his own free will, handing over the sweetest ambrosia ever created. He moaned brokenly when Xander's hand was finally close enough. Holding his wrist steady, Spike dipped his tongue in the puddle of come and had to work damn hard not to whimper. So good. So perfect. Bitter and salty and Spike was going to make the boy masturbate in a bag when Spike wasn't sucking him dry. He could live on this alone, he bet, while he still had coherent thoughts. Give up blood entirely and just live off of Xander's come. When the puddle was gone, Spike uncurled Xander's fingers and worked on licking and sucking each one clean, not wanting to miss a single trace. He started stroking himself again, quick, hard strokes while he wallowed in the knowledge that Xander had given him this. His now. His, his, his, his, his, his -- He came with a cry, only barely remembering to catch his own ejaculate to offer Xander the same treat. Xander lay still as Spike licked his fingers. Lapping it, wanting it, Spike all over him, and it was... wow. Wow. When Spike pumped himself furiously, Xander had to fight the urge to go up and take the head into his mouth, as it peeped in and out of the pale fingers, and then Spike was coming, and catching it all in his hand. He was struck, then, with the notion that Spike would want him to... do what Spike had done. The idea made him feel weird - it was kind of a sneaky feeling. He wanted to do it, if it would make Spike... want him, or something. But also, hey, kinda gross. On the other hand, girls did it all the time. Saw it in porn. So it couldn't be that bad. He resolved to try it. Just as soon as Spike told him to. Given the way Xander had reacted before, Spike had assumed he'd be all over him the moment Spike offered. Wait a minute. Those dark eyes were still hot with lust, but there was a mischievousness ... Oh, you beautiful, wonderful boy. Never letting you go now. Not ever. "Xander," he almost sing-songed, his voice so quiet it was nearly a whisper and strangely more powerful for it. "Lick my hand clean. Now." Ohhh, orders. Okay. Now I'm hot. Xander lifted himself back up onto his knees and leaned forward. Spike held his hand out, so the come dripped down, and Xander rushed forward to catch a drop as it rolled down Spike's finger. The taste hit his tongue, and as he moved up Spike's hand, Xander considered. It was decidedly bitter and coppery. Less salty than Xander had expected, it was a strange taste, faintly familiar. Xander cast around in his mind, and then lit on it - hoi sin sauce! After that, it tasted fine. Xander licked, cleaning Spike's hand thoroughly, tongue sliding between the fingers, wrapping around the tips (because Xander could do that tongue-rolling thing, which he was a little proud of.) Spike moaned, stroking the boy's hair while he sucked and licked, feeling himself grow hard again. "Very good, boy." Spike twisted his hand so the palm was down, sliding the first two fingers inside Xander's mouth and pumping them slowly back and forth. "Very good. Such an eager boy. Want my cock, pet?" he taunted, gently fucking Xander's mouth. "Want something other than my fingers to suck on?" Xander moaned around the fingers sliding in and out of his mouth, so sensual and good. He nodded, eyes closed, and sucked the fingers deeper. Spike smirked, slowly drawing his fingers back, Xander's head coming with him. "That's good, boy," he praised. "That's right, got something so good for you, now." Inches before his palm would brush the head of his cock, Spike slipped his fingers out and thrust just enough to brush against Xander's wet, puffy lips. The moment that slick, strong cock touched his mouth, Xander opened up and followed. He took Spike's hips in his hands, purely by instinct, and pulled them to him, sinking onto Spike's body. Oh, god, exactly as he'd pictured. Spike was right to do what he'd done - Xander would have come instantly. Then it occurred to him that he hadn't been told to do this, and wondered if it wasn't right. His touch on Spike's hips turned gentle, and he pulled back off Spike's cock, letting the head rest on his lips. Didn't want to lose it all. He glanced up at Spike and waited there, like that, for Spike to tell him yes or no. Mentally, he ran back through the sounds he'd heard Spike make and tried to figure out whether they were good sounds. Stopping -- no -- what the hell was -- Spike growled, angry at no longer being inside that silken heat. If Xander was chickening out now that he'd had his end away... Both hands clenched in Xander's hair, holding his head still. Growing furious -- can't do anything if the boy doesn't want this! – Spike felt himself grow totally still at the question he read in Xander's eyes. Xander was worried. Worried that he'd not done the right thing. Letting himself grin, just twisted enough that it couldn't be called nice, Spike nodded. "Suck me, boy." Xander whimpered, high in his throat, and his eyes closed of their own volition. God, it was just like the fantasy, just exactly like it, and for a moment, he thought he might be dreaming. He opened his mouth to obey Spike's summons, leaned forward and let the head of Spike's cock slide over his lips and into his mouth. He heard the sounds above him, and shivered with the unexpected power of it before turning his attention to what he was doing. Spike was heavy on his tongue, wider than the fingers, and softer by far. He hadn't expected it to be so soft - he ran his tongue over the skin, marveling at the satiny texture. Spike's hands clenched, air moving in and out and in and out and inandout of his lungs. He concentrated on that, had to, because the feel of Xander's mouth was driving him insane. Fuck, so perfect. It took all his will to hold still, letting Xander run lips and tongue over him, tasting. Learning. "That's right," he tried to croon and ended up gasping. "Good boy. Oh, fuck, pet, you're perfect." Hmm. Okay, tongue good. Pretty much anything with tongue equals good. How bout... Xander sank his head further onto Spike's twitching cock, taking more and more into his mouth, seeing how much he could get. It touched the back of his throat, and he fought the urge to cough, and pulled back a little. Okay, too far. So, just about this much. Hmm. Well, now that I'm here, and all... He kept Spike buried deep and began to move his tongue, circling and sliding. See how that goes... Groaning, Spike unclenched his left hand enough to move it to the boy's neck, rubbing at the two big tendons in a slow, soothing rhythm. He was barely halfway in, but for a lad who'd never done this before… Spike wasn't complaining. It'd been too long since Harm and her pathetic attempts, anyway. "Slow," he murmured, riding over the boy's tongue -- slick and hot and fuck, there, right there, that's good – and trying not to bury himself to the hilt. "Like this, boy? Sucking me like a good boy." "Mm-hmm," Xander hummed in assent, before pulling back and off, licking his lips and then taking just the head back in. "Mmmmm," he said, and closed his eyes to better savor the weird shape. It fit well, that was the strange thing. He would have thought it awkward or uncomfortable, and though his jaw felt a little strain at the hinge, it wasn't at all bad. In fact, it was kind of... pleasant. Nice. The kind of pleasant and nice that made his cock hard, that parted his thighs and made his entrance long for a finger or two. Only ever by myself. And it's been good, really good... I didn't want to save it for you, but I guess I did, and here it is. And you're going to want it, and I'm going to give it to you. And you're soft and big, but not too big, and I think I want you... Xander's brain threatened total meltdown, a strike against its owner. The burst of pheromones was accompanied by the ability to slide in a little deeper. Perfect little boy, you think I'm ever letting go of you? Be damned whatever spell you were on about. Hot and wet and willing counts for a fuck lot. Add in the ability to be trained ... He couldn't help the gentle rocking motion, his cock sliding back and forth over the boy's ever moving tongue. "Gonna have you here a lot, pet, on your knees for me, my cock in this luscious mouth. Look so good down there on your knees, waiting for me, suckin' me so sweet ... that's it, pet. That's my good boy." It wasn't true, it was all a lie, but oh, it was so good. And Spike wasn't the one lying, not really. It was all the magic. Xander settled for expressing his ideas about the scenario Spike painted the best way he'd found so far. He sucked Spike's cock into his mouth, determined to go a little farther this time, felt the big blunt tip pushing against the back of his throat. He pushed down the urge to gag and let it rub there before pulling back and sliding back down again. Spike was pushing, he found, back and forth, and of course! That would be good. So he slid back and forth, mimicking Spike's hand, his own, swirling his tongue around the head when he pulled back far enough. More, more, more, said his brain, and he worked Spike with a hot determination. White hot flames were searing every bit of thought from Spike's mind, but he kept up the words. Had to. He was a vocal lover, teasing, praising, and whispering the hot, dirty words that always drew his lovers in deeper to him. His voice was sandpaper rough by now, wet and dark as a human smoker's. "Fuck, that's it, pet, that's what you want, innit? Been wanting this for so long. Don't you worry, pretty boy. No more dreams of this, I promise. We're gonna do this all the time, pet. You'll take me in your throat, easy as breathing, work me like the cocksucker you are. That's right, so good, pet. Boy. My boy. Gonna come, boy, you want that? You ready for it? Let me hear it, if you do. Wanna feel you moaning and groaning, hot just from my cock in your mouth." Xander immediately levered himself up on his knees, ground himself down on Spike's cock, mmmh'd and nodded and slid his hand around to Spike's ass to pull him in, did every other damn thing he could think of to get him to do it, fucking do it, come, give me, yes, yes, yes... Spike laughed. Breathless and turned-on and ecstatic. "That's my boy," he purred. He let himself get lost in it: the image of Xander Harris on his knees, desperate for more cock, more come, more Spike. The feel of that hot mouth, sucking with all its might, the vibrations of Xander's noises only adding to the thrill. And there, the scent of it, that overpowering, intoxicating smell of want and have and something else, something magic, demonic cat-nip that was Spike's, now, never to be shared. He came with a harsh cry, digging his nails into the back of Xander's head, riding over teeth and tongue as he filled the boy's mouth till it leaked out, dribbling over his chin. Buzzing, almost woozy from it, Spike slipped his cock free. Wiping away the thin trail of come, Spike pressed it and his thumb back into Xander's mouth. "Suck it," he growled, rubbing at the boy's throat like a puppy's. "Swallow it all, boy. Let me feel it." Xander swallowed and sucked greedily. Spike-fried rice. Spike chicken. Spike Szechuan. Hands wrapped around Spike's wrist, feeding the fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. Want, want, want. His cock was straining now, eager again, and he wanted, wanted more. More sucking, more touching, more kissing, more everything. "Good boy. That's my boy." Over and over Spike praised him, rubbing his throat, his hair, his face, his other hand still being attended by Xander's eager mouth. "Lick my cock clean, pet," he ordered after his hand was spit-shiny and spotless. "The slit. Suck on it." Slit? What... oh! He hadn't even noticed. Curiously, he returned to Spike's cock and, as Spike had softened a little, happily fed the whole thing into his mouth, enjoying the feel of the skin under his lips before he backed up. Positioned then at the tip, he did as he was told - sucked and licked at that tiny little opening, lapping up every bit of taste he could, trying to push the tip of his tongue inside. Spike groaned again, not quite ready to get hard again, but enjoying the eager sucking of his boy. "Come for me, boy," he ordered. "Come for me." Unh! As though the words had actual power, some kind of real command over his body, Xander felt himself jerking and twitching as the pleasure rushed through him again. The sweet bliss sang through his body, hanging him from Spike's cock, before he collapsed to the floor, replete and sated, wearing a tiny smile. He couldn't have looked better if he were stoned out of his mind, Spike decided smugly. "Good boy," he praised, just because he could, and stood up from the bed. "Should've told you to catch that, boy," he muttered, catching sight of the come-stained floor. Regretful, but not concerned -- this was a nineteen year old boy -- Spike hauled Xander up and placed him on the bed. Stripping him bare, Spike pulled the blankets down and then climbed in. "C'mere," he ordered, wanting to see what would happen now that boy wasn't working towards an orgasm -- his own, or Spike's. Part Four Labored and sweating, Xander crawled up onto the bed and collapsed. That was easily the most intense sexual experience he'd ever had. Thought? What thought? "Hi." "Still think this is all a spell, do you?" He petted the boy's hair, slowly drawing him closer. Normally sweaty human was never good unless there was a ton of fear under it -- now, Spike was pretty sure he was in demonic heaven. "Think I'm gonna let you go when Red figures out what it is and breaks it?" "Yeah," Xander confirmed easily. He was too sated to lie, and Spike was gonna forget or repress all of this anyway, so why not? He stretched, both muscles and consonants. "We'll go back to hating each other and bitching across the table at Scooby meetings. But even if you don't remember this, I will, and please do trust me when I say I have mental porn for the next decade." Forget? He was supposed to forget this? Right. Kinda like erasing the memory of William from his mind; a hundred and more years and still he was there, tucked away in his littler corner. "I think you underestimate my appreciation for a willing boy and a fantastic shag." Giving it up for lost, Spike gave a yank so that Xander was flush against him, head on his shoulder, Spike's arms around him. He began tracing random patterns on the broad expanse of Xander's back, lowering his voice to something more compelling. "And my tenacity. Pretty thing like you needs a man to keep you in line, make sure you're taken care of. Given what you need. An upstanding vampire like myself, I'm doin' the world a public service. Essential." Xander snorted against Spike's chest, enjoyed the feeling of the skin against his lips as he spoke. "Upstanding. You're upstanding? You have more bad habits than my graduating class." "Besides," he continued, before Spike could protest, wrapping one arm around him. "I don't want to talk about this. Upstanding vampires shouldn't make promises they won't want to keep when feisty little redheads shred their mojo. Can we do more of the touching? I like the touching. This, for instance, this is nice." Xander burrowed his face into Spike's body, loving the feel of the fingers tracing over his back. They were going to make him shiver soon. He could feel it, the cold fingers tracing over him, giving him goose bumps, the shiver approaching in a hundred tiny little tensing muscles all over his body. "Demanding little thing, aren't you? We'll have to work on that." Not that Spike was objecting. Thanks to the little ball of William in his head (or so he convinced himself) Spike craved contact of the affectionate kind almost as much as the violence he'd only just had restored to him. "Why're you so sure that that this is gonna be over when the spell breaks, anyway? Think I didn't want this before?" It was giving a little too much away, but with a warm, heavy weight stretched over him, relaxed muscles letting him touch wherever he pleased -- which was lower and lower -- and a pair of mostly-empty balls, Spike didn't mind talking a bit. Just a bit. "Pfft. No," Xander answered. Ridiculous question. "Why would you?" Then he ran that sentence back and realized what he'd said - in trademark Xander style - a couple of seconds too late. "I mean, I'm a Scooby. I hate vampires, I always hated you, and I'm straight." Spike chuckled, squeezing one firm buttock. When Xander gasped, lust coloring the air around him, Spike did it again. "Try again, boy. Already spilled your secret, didn't you? Had fantasies about me. And now you're gonna tell me the other things you thought about us doing." Eek! "No, really, I'm straight," Xander insisted. The hand on him was distracting, yes, but a clever man who'd just come twice could ignore such things. "It's not guys. I don't like guys. I like you. You and girls, and that's pretty much that." He tucked his face further into Spike's chest and hoped he'd forget about the other, extremely embarrassing request. Silly boy. Don't know what you're dealing with yet, do you? Rumbling in his chest, Spike rolled them so that Xander was pinned beneath him, flushed and beautiful, with a tiny bit of come drying at the corner of his mouth. Licking it clean lead to kissing, the slow kind that only came after the immediate needs had been attended to. "Don't give a damn if you like chimpanzees," Spike growled against Xander's mouth, staring into black eyes so close they blurred into a single distorted one. "I don't give a damn if you're gay, or straight, or even a Scooby. You're mine now, boy, and you better understand what that means." Xander's lips buzzed from the kissing, so slow and deep. He wanted more, much more, and his hips began to languidly roll up and back, up and back. "Okay," he said, willing to agree to almost anything, including humoring Spike's magic-related mood swings, if it meant more kissing. "Just... hypothetically... what does that mean?" "Means ... I get to pick a new name for you. 'less you like being called 'boy' all the time." He wanted to say more, had his mouth open to do so, when he felt something ... humming. It wasn't a sound he could hear properly, he knew that. It was more like his bones were humming, pressure growing stronger and stronger until it nearly crushed him, pulverized him into tiny, insignificant pieces -- And then released. Xander leapt from the bed and scrambled for clothing. Living on the Hellmouth, you pick up a few things, and one of the things he'd picked up in his tenure was that swirly, glowy white light plus Spike freezing in place, eyes wide and also glowy, gasping and twitching? Equals magic. No ifs, ands or buts. Which meant Willow came through, and it was time for clever Scoobies who wanted to live into tomorrow to get the hell out of Sunnydale, or at least the hotel room. He'd pulled on his jeans and shirt without even buttoning them, and was halfway to the door when he was unceremoniously tackled to the ground. Spike growled menacingly when Xander struggled, hating the damned chip. "Stay still," he ordered and miraculously enough, Xander froze. Long enough that Spike could roll them so Xander was on his back, and Spike on top of him -- a new favorite position. "Now, then." His voice went low and silken, wrapping around Xander and holding him more firmly than any bonds could. "You tell me what the bloody fuck you thought you were doing." Spike knew, of course. Red's magic had a distinctive 'flavor' to it, burnt cinnamon and a hint of lemony tartness, and his nose fairly reeked of it. But he could still smell Xander, too. It didn't thrum the same kind of want now feelings, but it certainly wasn't the repellent Xander often seemed to think it was. He smelled ... good. Sex and lust and Spike all wrapped up in something Spike knew he could learn to like quite a bit. And beside, Spike's prior comments still held true. Give up a lovely, willing boy, all because he no longer smelled quite so good? Not a chance. All it meant was that Spike was no longer driven to suck the boy's come (though he had every intention of doing so again) and that other demons wouldn't challenge Spike the minute they got out the door. Seemed a fair deal to him, so he arched against the warmth below him, teasing. Ohshitohshitohshit. This was it, exactly why he'd fought Spike in the first place. Now there'd be angry and hateful, and his vicious glee when he thought he'd caught someone at something. I thought I was doing something I'd always wanted to, his brain spat bitterly, but I guess I'm the idiot again. Spike was lightly rippling across his body, and Xander felt the blush stain his cheeks as the sinuous movement made his cock twitch and fill. Again. Traitor. He braced himself for the onslaught of insults, determined not to give Spike the satisfaction of answering his stupid question. "Running away, pet?" The rich swath of red called him and Spike pressed forehead and nose right where the blood pooled hottest in Xander's cheeks. "Naughty. Think I ought to see how far your willingness for a bit of rough play goes, shouldn't I?" Using nearly identical movements as almost an hour before, Spike stroked over shoulders and chest, down long, muscled arms before finding Xander's wrists and gripping them. A gentle tug and they were up, over Xander's head, crossed and held in the vise grip of Spike's control. "Was it your Cinderella spell?" he asked softly. "Clock struck midnight and now you're back to being repressed boy?" "I'm not repressed," Xander growled, furious, yet somehow failing to attempt to move his wrists. "I have a sense of self-preservation. You're not under any spell now, which means you are in no way restrained from trying to hurt me via demon buddy that owes you a favor. Anyone with an eyedropper of sense would try to run." Xander was mentally smacking himself in the forehead as soon as those words came out of his mouth. "And I should not have said that, because now you have ideas." In no way was he paying attention to Spike’s careful touch. It did not affect him. His cock was not hard again, and begging for a little touch. He was not just lying here, like a poseable rag doll, letting Spike do whatever he wanted! Dammit. Spike let his laughter roll over Xander, thrusting a thigh between the boy's legs so that cock of his had something to rub against. Mm. So deliciously hot, this boy. "Told you before, pet, I don't want to hurt you. No hiring of any bully-boys, and as for what I can or cannot do...” He tightened his grip around Xander's wrists, listening for that tell-tale grind of bones rubbing together. Only then did he relax his grip slightly. Leaning down so his mouth was right by Xander's ear, he murmured, "I think you like this, boy. Think you like me using you and you don't mind a bit when I make it a little rough. Know why I think that? Cause your cock is hard, boy, and the chip hasn't so much as whispered at me all night." "Jesus, Spike," Xander muttered, averting his eyes and trying not to let the bitterness show. "Isn't it enough that you evidently remember everything? Do you have to..." He couldn't think of an end to that sentence that wasn't 'rub it in', and there was entirely too much rubbing going on anyway. His wrists hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to move them. Spike's words were making him hotter, making him want the things Spike was saying, and he knew it was all a big set-up, he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself from reacting, all the same. Xander's ear was too tempting a target. Spike sucked on the bit of flesh thoughtfully, rubbing his thigh back and forth and back and forth, as if he was grinding out an itch with Xander's cock. God he tasted good. Spell's broken for sure, but damn if my boy doesn't taste fine still. "Do I have to what, hm? Pretty boy, I told you I wasn't letting an eager thing like you go. And I meant it." It was so tempting to believe him, believe the pretty lies. Xander twisted under Spike's body, panting harshly under the gentle tongue, rocking up into the strong thigh. It felt so good... "Stop it," he gasped, talking about the lying, not wanting to hear the fantasy, because it was impossible, couldn't be believed. But this, dirty hotel room and fucking someone who hated him -- yes. This was the life of Xander Harris. It only made sense without the words... Spike trailed deep, sucking kisses from Xander's ear over to his mouth, nipping his lower lip just to see it swell and redden. "Stop what? Stop makin' you feel good? Stop enjoying the way you're pushing up against me, like you can't help but be a good boy for me? Don't know what's going on in that head of yours, pet. Why don't you tell me, hm?" Xander pushed against Spike's leg, arching his back, loving the feel of it, desperate for more. "Has it suddenly slipped your mind," he said between little gasps and groans of pleasure, "that you hate me? That we hate each other? There was a whole hating theme, if you recall..." Xander turned his head so Spike had better access to his neck and earlobe, unable to live for the space of another breath without more contact, more Spike. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to dismiss as invitation as pretty as Xander, arching underneath him and presenting his neck so sweetly. Spike obliged by sucking along the major vein, scraping his teeth over the pulse until, when he pulled back, it was marred with red lines and mottled proto-bruising. "Whoever said I hated you, hm, boy? Hate the chip, sure. Hate bein' dependent on someone other than me, oh yeah. But hate you? Oh no, pretty boy. I never hated you." It was the truth, of a sort, too. Xander had been a right snot to him since his arrival Thanksgiving evening, and Spike had longed to have some way of punishing him for the way he ran his mouth, taking Spike's tattered pride and tearing it into even tinier pieces. But hate him, the way Xander meant? Oh, no. There was too much want mixed up in there for that. Of course, what Spike had wanted was the boy's blood. Now ... Now this fucking thing is training me, like it or not, and blood isn’t on offer, not for a long time. But I'll more than make do with the boy's gift of his body to me. Oh yes. "Still gotta pick out a name for you," Spike mused as he went back to sucking on the boy's lips -- first upper, then lower, then upper again -- without ever quite kissing him. "Could call you 'ducks', I suppose. I'd call you slut, since you're so pretty riding against me like this, but that implies you're free for the taking, which you most certainly are not. Boy is boring. Hm. Suggestions?" The side of his neck throbbed with the sense memory of Spike's lips and tongue. More, said his neck, his chest, his cock. "I've al-always been p-partial to 'Xander'," he said, offhandedly. Or, what would be offhandedly if he could speak properly. No hate? As if. Maybe there was some kind of residual magic afterglow thing. Or maybe whatever spell it was hadn't worked, and Spike was still bound up in the original. Whatever it was, there was unquestionably a logical explanation, and as Xander's brain was having trouble forming words that had more than two syllables, he elected not to think about it. If he wanted, Spike knew he could've released the boy's hands and they'd stay in the same position. But it's more fun pretending I'm really holding him. Xander'd pulled his shirt on, so Spike contented himself with toying with his nipple through the cotton. "Think I could make you come like this, boy? Or should I let you, since you're still resisting me? Only good boys get to come, pet, and you're not there yet." Spike hummed lowly as he arched down, feeling the curve and dip of the boy's hip-bone hard against his cock. "I suppose it's all right for now that you don't trust me. But shouldn't you trust me to be a greedy, possessive bastard, hm? One that craves sex as much as he does blood?" Spike was doing amazing things through the shirt. Through the shirt. He hadn't even managed to get it buttoned up, and it'd take exactly two seconds to rip the thing off him or even just nudge it aside, and instead Spike was actually playing with him through the material, teasing and taunting and making him want, oh, God, so bad... Crap. Babble. "Okay," he began. "You make a good point, unquestionably, I mean... it's persuasive, even suave. Pretty cl-clear that you're greedy, p-possessive guy, what with being a vampire and ev-ev-every... thing... oh, God..." His breath hitched high, all his focus on what Spike was doing. "There you go," he soothed, in a mockery of paternal affection. "Isn't that better? I'm a possessive bastard, and I'm choosing to be possessive about you, boy." Taking advantage of their difference in height, Spike dipped his head lower so he could suck on collarbone and chest. Salty skin enveloped his senses and he had to pause, groaning, to get control of himself. Don't need a ruddy spell. "Pick a name, pet. Or I'll pick one for you. Could call you bitch, couldn't I? My pretty bitch." He stopped everything but toying with the boy's nipple -- pebbled and so hard already -- waiting for his reaction. "Oh, my god," Xander burst out, "there is no way to answer a question like that! That is totally unfair." His nose wrinkled. "And way too estrogen-related." Spike interrupted anything else he might've said with a kiss designed to remove every bit of thought from Xander’s head. Both his hands tightened, wrists and hardened flesh pinched between his almost punishing grip, while his thigh pressed down hard enough that he felt Xander's pelvic bone rub against him. Then he let go, taking in the panting, flushed, glaze-eyed, beautiful mess beneath him. "Not a bit of estrogen here," he purred. "All I see is a pretty bitch of a boy." Oh. Okay. Sure. Uh-huh. Yes, Spike. The bruising kiss burned into him, marking him, cleverly erasing all thought. Spike was talking, liquid fire words sliding over him, licking at him, making him shiver. "Spike," he groaned, flexing his muscles so he brushed against the lean body atop him. "Please..." "Please what?" God, he'd missed begging. For that, he'd put up with a partner a hell of a lot less attractive. Fortunately, Xander really was beautiful in his debauchery, and attractive enough that Spike had long ago considered making him 'shut up' by the most expedient way possible. "Got another fantasy, do you pretty boy? Tell me. Come on, pet, be good and tell me all about it." "I just... I want..." He squirmed under the cool body above him. "I could tell you every fantasy I ever had about us, and none of 'em would be anything like right here, right now, Spike, please. I need you, please, just..." His cheeks colored even more as he thought about it, what he had to do if he wanted Spike to... but he knew himself. The more he thought about it, the less likely he'd be to do it, so best do right now, right this minute, just get your courage up and... Xander tentatively widened his legs, bent his knees and hugged Spike's hips with his thighs. "Please, Spike..." "Oh, you are a pretty thing," Spike said into his ear. "Think I'm gonna give up a hot, beautiful boy just because the spell's broken? Oh, no. I want to see you naked, boy, see you worked up and hear you beg for me. Watch you ride my fingers, getting yourself ready for me to sink my cock deep inside you. Is that what you want?" His hand dropped lower between their bodies to find the hard bulge of Xander's cock beneath the denim and rubbed. Then rubbed even lower. "Want me to fuck you, pet? Want to split yourself on my cock? Let me break you in two and fuck you till you come so hard you pass out?" Part Five "Yes, Spike. Please, yes." His words shivered with his body as he pushed up into Spike's hand, relishing the sweet pressure. "Don't hurt, though, okay? It'd ruin everything, just, please, just let me feel you. Let me see you, let me... oh, fuck." Xander lifted his head, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead over Spike's, feeling the smooth skin and eyebrows. No bumps. He was shivering with need, desperate to have Spike do everything he said, and somehow his brain kept working, kept making his mouth say words. "I... I can't shake the feeling that this is wrong, somehow, y'know? But I can't help it, I still need... Spike, I need you." Wrong? That brought Spike up short, though he knew better than to stop rubbing. The fastest way to send the boy out the door would be to lower the levels of want pouring from him like perfume. What the hell is 'wrong' about this. He wants a shag -- hell, he's been wanting that for years. I remember how repressed and tight-wound the boy was, it's what attracted me to him when Angel first made that damned offer. But wrong? Because two guys want to get it on, have a little bit of fun? But no, that wasn't right, either. There wasn't anything about Xander that screamed a man's distrust and disgust with shagging the same gender -- something Spike knew intimately, since making straight guys beg for more cock was a favorite of his. So what the hell was wrong about this? Lifting up, Spike scooped the boy up into his arms, depositing him on the bed far more gently than he should've. Shirt and shoes, jeans and boxers went flying, Spike quickly applying hand to cock again, jacking the boy thoughtfully. "Don't you worry, pet. I'm gonna give you exactly what you need. But first, you're gonna tell me what you mean by 'wrong'." While Spike tried to figure out what the hell they could use for lube. No way was he taking virginal Xander dry -- the chip was allowing him some wiggle room, for unknown reasons, but Spike knew better than to push his luck that much. "I... I was..." He was trying to talk, but oh, it was hard. Hard, especially, with Spike's cool, clever fingers wrapped around him, slowly working up and down the burning length of him. Xander was tense with need, thrusting desperately up into Spike's fingers. A thought occurred. He lifted his hands above his head, clasped his wrists like a Chinese finger trap and observed as Spike looked down at him, lust blazing in his eyes. Fuck's sake... Xander thrashed under that gaze and tried not to come just from the simple thought of Spike touching his dick. "Good boy." His cock hardened at the vision of stretched out and thoroughly submissive Xander. But he still needed -- there! Eyes drawn up the length of Xander's taut arms, he caught sight of the bed stand and a left over bottle of someone's lotion. It wasn't the greatest, but it was better than nothing at all. Leaning forward, he distracted Xander with a kiss while he grabbed the bottle. "But you didn't answer me, pet. And I'll have that answer -- or we're going to see if the chip will allow me spanking you in punishment." Another test; the boy was such a treasure-trove of kinks. Oh god please yes please please want you so much Spike please... Oh, the thought of it. Cursed imagination, that allowed him to see it so well -- his own body bent over the bed, knees wide, ass high in the air, awaiting the first slap. Spike pressed up against him, firm palm swinging down... and then? God only knew. But he wanted it, oh, yes. Wanted it now, immediately, and began to shove himself up so he could make it happen, red blush spread all over his cheeks. The growl Spike made was the darkest, evilest yet. The flush of blood was moving down Xander’s chest, practically to his belly, and Spike firmly shoved all thoughts of wanting to take a taste from his mind. That's not what this was about -- for now. Maintaining the hair-raising, almost-but-not-quite-angry growl, Spike flipped Xander over and spared himself one second of worry. One second of demonic prayer. One second of taking in the firm curves of Xander's arse, how high and perfect they were, even if they weren't the bubble-butt he honestly preferred. This would do nicely, though. More than nicely. He wants it, he wants it, I'm not hurting him, he chanted while his hand came crashing down in a sharp smack of sound. His hand burned from the friction and heat of Xander's body but the chip ... the chip stayed silent. "Uh!" The sound burst from him as the sensation rushed through his body. Everything was still, then, and Xander let his head rest down on his arms while he waited for the next. His cock was dripping hard, he could feel himself leaking onto the sheets, and when the next one came - smack! - the pain was almost incidental. Spike was stoking a furnace inside him, and making his hips shift across those sheets with every slap, and it was nothing but hot, hot pleasure, intense and burning and all over him. It was easy, so easy, just to allow Spike to take him and use him and make him good, make him feel... How did he feel? Dirty, wrong, good, hot, and his heartbeat thrummed all through his body, throbbing with each pulse. Incoherent sounds came slipping from him, wrung from him by the insistent pressure building in his cock, by Spike's hand crashing down on his ass. Spike had to yank himself back, stopping himself from letting the five or ten hard smacks go further, managing it only by the skin of his teeth. But god, watching Xander writhe, filling the room with the heady scent of the god yes please he was too incoherent to say ... Pouring out a mess of lotion on his fingers, Spike spread Xander's legs to the tune of a broken moan, delving between reddened cheeks. "Now then," he said, rubbing over Xander's entrance, getting it slippery and loose without ever pressing inside. "You mentioned something about this being 'wrong', boy. I want you to tell me what you meant. Or I stop." Well, he could stop. Maybe. Potentially. Much as he wanted to know what the hell Xander meant and as fun as it was to torment him, Spike wanted to fuck him more. What? Stop? No!! He slid up on his knees, slow as he could, not wanting to lose those amazing freaking fingers for one single second. He spread his thighs wide, his face smooshed into the pillow, and felt himself loosen up, felt Spike's finger slide more easily over his hot skin. Nobody. Nobody had ever. Just Xander himself, one really intense session in the shower, and then another few times on the bed, once he'd found it didn't hurt. Spike in his head, the one to do this, always Spike's fingers over him, in him, pushing through and having. Because Spike would do that. Spike would want everything, wouldn't accept anything less. A sound reached his ears; he recognized his own voice, operating without his knowledge. "Don't stop, Spike, please, keep, please, don't stop touching me, have to have, please, so much, Spike..." "Then answer my question, pet." The tip of his forefinger slipped inside, wiggling around without going further. "Come on, be a good boy for me. Good boys get treats." "Uhhh... 'kay, then you gotta... gotta st-stop doing that... oh... my..." Good boy. Spike worked his finger back and forth, trying not to groan at the burning heat that clenched around him, trying to grasp him even tighter. God, what that'd feel like around his cock ... Working his finger to the first knuckle, Spike held that hand still, the other resting comfortably on the radiating skin of Xander's arse. Kneading very, very lightly. "What's so wrong about this, Xander?" Xander felt his muscles clench around Spike's finger, felt that finger cool and soothing against the burn of his muscles, and tried not to scream. "I... I'm not supposed to! I shouldn't do this, with you, shouldn't be with you, shouldn't want you like this..." He squirmed against Spike's finger. He wanted more now, more in him, more of Spike. "But I do... I want, please..." Spike growled, low and long in his chest, knowing the boy -- his boy -- would feel it shiver through his body. "Almost, pet, but not quite. Why's that bad, hm? Why aren't you supposed to? Because where I'm sitting, the only things you aren't supposed to do are things you don't want to. If you want it... " He let his words hang in the air, taunting Xander to respond. The boy was so beautiful when he was tormented. Xander shuddered with the ricochet of Spike's voice rippling through his body. He was going to shiver apart, collapse into pieces, wanting Spike this badly. Images flitted over his mind as he tried to answer the question -- horrified faces of his friends if he confessed to them that he had done this, and not even for the gay thing, which would be so much easier. Spike, though... hated, resented Spike, force of evil, no matter how many times they'd allied with him... They'd never forgive him. This was not supposed to happen. And yet here he lay, naked, on a hotel bed with a creature he should hate, shivering in pleasure at the thought of being touched by him. "You're evil," he groaned, meaning that as both an answer and an accusation as he pushed back in tiny increments, hoping that was enough, hoping it was good enough, and that Spike would just please, God, please, keep going. "Yeah, and?" Greedy boy was pushing back at him, trying to suck him down deep within where Spike wanted to be. But not yet. First he had to make the boy understand that this wasn't going to vanish with sun's light, soap-bubbles that pop and disappear without even a film to remember them by. He'd keep Xander for as long as he could, and that meant friends and parents and poor little humans stuck in the metaphorical closet without a light. He had to get Xander to discuss it, at least think about how to deal with it, or this would only be a fuck. A damn fine fuck, but Spike knew he could have that. He wanted more. "So I can't have you!" Xander burst out, suddenly angry. Was Spike being deliberately Angel-brained? Xander twisted around to look at Spike over his shoulder, talking more to himself than anyone. "You don't fit, no matter how I try to turn the pieces around, you won't, because you're evil and I'm not. And you don't want me anyway, so it doesn't matter! I don't get why you do now, and I think it's the spell, but I'm not missing it, no way. I don't think you can take advantage of an evil guy, even if he's full of magic roofies, but even if I were taking advantage, I'd still do this. Because at least I can pretend that it's not all going away any second and I can get a taste of what it'd be like to have you. So quit asking pointless questions and fuck me, already, because it might wear off, and then you'll leave..." Xander didn't want to think anymore. He pulled himself free of Xander’s body abruptly, his hand crashing down over the boy's ass, knuckles smarting before he realized it. Don't fire, don't fire, don't fire -- When no pain came, Spike repeated his backhanded slap, this time a little harder, catching Xander’s balls in a punishing grip. There was still no pain. Fuck, he's such a perfect little bottom-boy. Loves each and every thing I give him. For this, pretty boy, I'd give up a hell of a lot. "Spell's over, pet, and it's time you realize it. Only thing keeping me here is me. As for going away, well, I think you're laboring under a misapprehension." He smacked again, just for the hell of it, and changed his grip to massaging instead of painful. "I'm toothless, pet. Got nothing to bite and nothing to fight. I'm dependent on you and yours. Not gonna rock the blood-boat, and with you as a pretty little incentive, well, I suppose I could do more than just play along. But only if you're mine, boy." Xander's brain was fighting with itself. In this corner, in the blue trunks, was the urge to shake off his sort-of-trance, listen to what Spike was saying and see if it made any kind of sense. Dependant on us. Needs us for blood. Therefore... wants me. Nope. Senseless. This urge was skinny and his boxing gloves looked too big for him. And in this corner, in the red trunks, weighing in at one million pounds, was the big, throbbing, nigh-painful urge to shut up and fuck, to leap on Spike and kiss him senseless, to force him to keep going, needing his touch, his fingers, his cock. This urge was somebody. This urge was a contender. His ass was stinging, warm skin pulsing with blood. His face flushed as he realized that he wanted more, wanted those sharp shocks of pain that immediately faded into a glowy, relaxed thing and made his cock twitch and drip. "Ummm," he said, part thought process and part groan, panting breath cooling his lungs. "I have to be... yours?" His sex-soaked brain found that word in Spike's speech, picked it up and looked at it blearily. "Yours..." He tested the word, liked the taste of it. "Yours," he affirmed, with a little gusto. He pushed back against Spike's hand, gently. Spike could call Xander his if he wanted to, just so long as he kept moving that infuriatingly still finger. "I'm yours, just take me, just, come on, do it..." Spike pulled his hands completely away, folding them behind his back to stop them from reaching out involuntarily. "Ah ah," he teased. "Have to mean it. Won't get what you want until you do." He could hear Xander still repeating that fateful, dick-throbbing word, and reveled in it. Just a little bit more, he silently encouraged. Just a little bit more, boy, and you'll be mine. "Say it," slipped out before he could stop it. "You want it, pet, and I'll let you have it. Just say it, keep saying it, prove to me you're mine. Convince me that you want to be mine. Just say it." No! "Yours!" he blurted out, not knowing anything but the feel of his muscles clenching on nothing, nothing at all, alone and neglected. "Yours, Spike, please..." He dropped his head back down to the pillows, stretched his arms as high up as he could and spread his legs wide, tense and trembling, shaking his head back and forth gently as he let his lips make the words that Spike wanted. "Yours, yours, yours, I'm yours, just, please, want you, so much, Spike, yours, yours, yours..." Begging. It'd been so long, and the sound of him, so sweet ... but for all Spike loved torture, he knew when enough was enough. "Shh," he soothed, surging up and over Xander's body to kiss sweat-slick skin, flushed and burning against his lips. His hands stroked over flank and buttocks before finding the place they both wanted his fingers to be, sinking two fully inside without any warning. "Good boy, Xander. That's a good, good boy. Shhh. I'm here, pet, and I'll take good care of you. Give you what you need. Come on, pet. Fuck back on my fingers, now, good boy." Xander's mouth opened and wouldn't close, eyes shut tight, a sighing relief flooding through him at the stretch, finally, burning and good, so good. "Spike," he sighed, shoving back against those fingers as he'd been told, reveling in how they stayed and pushed in him and didn't just go like they'd done before. His fists clenched tight, his muscles strained. He felt the burn in his thighs as they struggled against the unaccustomed position and loved that too, the heavy weight of Spike against his back so strange and welcome. "Spike, god, yours, I'm yours. So good, so... ahhh, fuck..." "Yeah, you are," Spike purred into the boy's ear, nibbling the lobe as he twisted his fingers, adding the third. "Desperate and eager and mine. All mine. Gonna fuck you till you can't see straight, boy. Fuck you till you pass out with my cock still inside you. And you want it, don't you? You want to wake up with me still inside you, still taking you." Hot, fluttery insides contracted around him, pressing down deeper so that the ridge of his knuckles almost slipped in. God, his new pet was so greedy for it. Xander's breathing was harsh, erratic, and hot enough that it felt like a jungle inside the cheap motel room. "Think you're ready for me, boy?" He nipped slightly, timing it with a smack on the boy's quivering cheeks. Immediately, Xander clenched even tighter and moaned. "Gonna break you open. Make you scream." He smacked again, "while I split you in two." "Yes," Xander groaned, the sound forced out of him by the light shocks of Spike's hand on his ass, his bones liquefied by Spike's low, growling voice. "God, yes, ready. Want you, Spike, want to f-feel you." His voice broke on his harsh breaths as he rocked on Spike's hand, face hot with the need to come. He realized his own cock was aching hard, and tried to reach underneath his belly to try to touch, squeeze, relieve some of the incredible pressure... Quick as a flash, Spike pulled out -- purposefully rough -- landing four harsh blows with his sopping hand. "Did I say you could touch yourself?" he growled, nothing but his mouth and the back of his hand touching Xander. "No!" Xander choked out, squirming, his hand flying back up to its original position. He shook with the rough withdrawal, with the sting -- it was so hot, made him squirm with needing, but if it meant he couldn't have the touch, he'd sooner die than provoke it again. "You didn't say, I just... I was... I'm sorry! Please, I won't, I didn't mean to, I won't, I won't, I promise. Spike, please..." Same pattern as before -- Spike shushed and crooned, working three, then four fingers inside Xander's vise-tight body, adding the occasional pinch of hip and heaving stomach randomly. It felt so good to hurt, especially given how much Xander loved it. "Shhh. It's all right, didn't tell you, did I? Just assumed you knew already, since you're such an eager little slut. But now you know, pet. No touching until I tell you. No nothing without my telling, all right? Say it, pet. Tell me you're mine, and you'll be good for me. My good boy." Part Six "I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good. I promise, Spike, I'll be... oh, Jesus..." Stretched so wide, wider than anything. He didn't know he could open that far, but Spike's fingers pried and pinched and taught him different. The tiny bursts of pain softened him at just the right moments, distracting him from the impossible-yet-so-good things going on behind him, softening him when he tightened too much. "Yours, Spike. I'm yours..." It was all sighs now, as he tried to spread himself wider, just take what Spike gave. He would endure, he had to endure, and then, if he did, if he was... good... he would get what he wanted. His cheeks burned with shame, and he was grateful that the pillow hid his face as he buried it in the softness. He could come just like this, probably. Working his new boy into desire-soaked oblivion, each cry and moaned assurance wrapping around his cock the way the boy's lips had not an hour before. Kissing his way along the upward sweep of Xander's back, Spike removed fingers wet with lotion and the boy's own body, swiping them up his cock. Lining himself up afforded him a chance to pinch the base, forcing himself to calm down enough that he could take Xander as long and hard as he planned. "You feel so good, pet," he teased, rubbing the head of his cock against distended, grasping flesh. "Feel so hot. Think I can make you hotter?" His right hand ducked down, grabbing the boy's balls and squeezing a touch harder than he had before. "Want me," he ordered. "Want you," Xander breathed, echoing, tension ratcheting up in his belly with the feeling of Spike's naked cock pushing against him. Dimly, he remembered that they were supposed to have... something... "Oh, wait, shit, waitwait. Is... are we..." His face was on fire now, as he tried to ask this question, too late, too far now to back down, body screaming in protest as he reined it back from just shoving onto Spike's cock and grinding like he wanted to. He buried his face in the pillow and hoped Spike would just miraculously understand, because he was too embarrassed to say it. Spike kept rubbing the head of his cock against the boy's ass, up and down and up and down, while Xander's muscles tried to catch him, like those stupid arcade games with a deeply kinky twist. What on earth was the boy asking for? He had lube, made sure the boy was stretched out and ready for it, as gentlemanly as could be. So what...? He laughed, when it finally occurred to him what Xander wanted, and smacked the boy's ass hardest yet, twice, three times, then four, listening to him cry out in twisted pleasure below him. The minute his hand lifted up from the final blow, Spike sent up a breath of a prayer to those that watched over demons. Don't fire, you hear me? Don't you fucking go off. Then he slammed forward, burying himself in the boy's virgin ass until he was inside as far as the position allowed. Only then did he lean forward, trying desperately to ignore the heated, velvet glove that milked him, to find the boy's ear and whisper, "Nothing you can catch from me, boy, that I don't want you to have." No thought now, no thinking, just Spike in him, deep in him, cool hips against the burning warmth of the skin that had been spanked, soothing and incredibly tense-making, all at the same time. There'd been no warning, just teasing and taunting, and then a quiet laugh, before this barrage of sensory overload, Spike's hand, and Spike's cock, and all thought was absolutely erased. Now his throbbing dick was begging for attention, and he could hear the whine his throat made as he breathed -- breathed, for Spike, all for Spike, who was the director of this play -- and suddenly any pain just faded right out, and Xander would do anything, anything, to make Spike move. Spike waited for a response, chuckling as much as he could. He didn't need air, but he still felt breathless and crazy from being inside Xander. Fucking him. Fucking my boy. When none came but for the tiny, whining noises Xander made with each choked-off breath, he laughed again but didn't move. And still didn't. He ticked through what felt like eternity -- probably no more than a full minute -- before he purred, "Good boy, pet. Very good. You get a reward." His flesh cried out as he eased himself back out of Xander's body, hating to leave the warmth, the wet, the feeling of rightness of being balls-deep inside of Xander. But he slipped back until only the head was inside, shivering as the heat fell away -- and then slammed back in, harder than the first time. Xander cried out, a hoarse, open-mouthed, high-pitched moan jolted out of him by the incredible slick and scrape of Spike's cock inside him. As if, with that one sound, Xander's mouth remembered it could talk, he felt the heat rush through him and his cock shiver as he started to babble. "Oh, my god. Oh, god, oh, good, oh, so... Spike, you're so... ohhh, yes, yes, yes, yours, please, Spike, unh..." He edged back against Spike's body, pushing with his hips, trying to feel that blessed friction again, wanting more. Spike snarled, slapping down over side and raised belly. "Hold still," he ordered, passion making him sound angry. "You wanted to be fucked, boy, and you will be. Hold still. Or I'll make you hold still. Tie you down, stretched and taut, till you can't move." Xander squirmed and twisted, pushed harder, openly asking for it. Fuck, yes, yes, do that, do it, tie me down and make me take it, force me to take you fucking me. I want that, Spike, yes, I want it, want you, yours, yes, please... "Gotta choose," he offered, still slowly sliding out before roughly shoving back inside. His left hand slid underneath Xander's body, finding a distended nipple. Forgoing the normal pinch, he gave it vicious twist. "You can either behave, let me fuck you now, and tie you up later. Or you can continue bein' bad, and make me stop fucking you." Okay, ow! His nipple throbbed, but the promise of later tying-up, and the much more important threat of stopping now made Xander freeze in place and try to calm down, relax his muscles. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You said... that you'd... and I..." Xander couldn't think of an end to that sentence that wasn't extremely embarrassing and settled for something he knew was acceptable. "I'll be good," he whispered, his cheeks coloring again, and Xander cursed them for doing it. Said it like a thousand times already. Pay attention! God, I'm such a slut. Spike chuckled, staying deeply inside the boy while his hips moved in a slow circle. The flash of real hurt hadn't set the chip off, but it had changed the smell enough that Spike could recognize it. He stroked the nipple he'd just pinched -- not an apology, just a means of teasing Xander even more. "You want to be tied up, pet? My, such a kinky boy under all this vanilla exterior. Stretched out till it hurts. Can't do anything but take everything I give you, hm? Is that what you're after?" Still thrusting lightly, Spike slid his hand down the length of Xander's body, stretching to reach his wrists. "Lift up," he ordered. "Hold here." Closing first one, then the other of Xander's hands on the headboard, his body was forced to lift up so that he was suspended between the cheap, wooden headboard and Spike's cock. "Can't tie your legs, boy, but don't worry. We'll do that next time." Loving the way Xander's muscles tensed and rolled, Spike grabbed the boy's hips and started again. Slow out, fast in, gradually speeding up until he was jackknifing in and out of his boy, fucking him as roughly as he wanted. "Ohhh, yeah..." Xander fought with everything he had to stay still, not to move, not to buck and writhe on Spike's cock, because it'd stop, it'd all stop if he did, and that could not be allowed to happen, not for anything. His own hard dick dripped onto the sheets, totally without contact. He whimpered as Spike ground into him, amongst the flood of words. "So good, fuck, yes, yes... yours, I'm yours. God, Spike, god... fuck me. Feels so good, Spike, fuck me. Mmm..." The words made Spike crazy behind him, slamming forward, and the reverberation of a hungry snarl chased around Xander's body. He burned with the shame of the words, insisting on being said despite that, and he thought maybe now, it might be, he could get away with it... "Spike... I need... touch me? Please, Spike, please touch me... it's so... it's... I need you, please, please, I need your hand..." Spike snarled and fucked faster. He'd wanted to get the boy off with his cock alone, but ... but he's been good for me, quiet and willing, and he deserves a reward. "Don't come," he ordered, detaching a hand to wrap it around Xander's cock. "Good boy," he purred when Xander creeled, cock throbbing, but didn't come. "Very good. Now, pet. I know you're stretched out, all open for whatever I want to do to you. But I want you to fuck my fist, pet. Want you to push that pretty red arse against me, riding my cock like the perfect boy you are." Spike pressed against the very bottom of the head of Xander's cock, finding that little vee of sensitivity while he angled and re-angled his cock until he was sure he was positioned right to hit the boy's prostate. "Come on, boy. Fuck my cock until I come inside you." Spike did... something. Xander wasn't sure what it was. He didn't really have time to think about it. He did know that one minute, he was being fucked, and it was good, stretchy and open and above all, Spike. But then, Spike did... something. And all of a sudden, every time Spike slammed inside him, hips smacking against his ass, his body splayed wide, something deep in him... exploded. Repeatedly. And there was a hand on his cock, tickling at the tenderest of places. And Spike told him to move, growling deep words, fuck my cock, that made every tiny particle in his body sit up and pay attention, even with the ringing in his ears and showers of pinpricks that flowed over him every time Spike did that something. But Xander was not. Supposed. To come. He threw himself back against Spike, praying that he could make Spike come as soon as humanly possible. He squirmed and pushed, breath sobbing in and out of his lungs, shattering his words as he tried to get them out. "P-please, Spike, please... c-come inside me, come, please, let me come, gotta come. G-g-god, f-feel you ev-ev-everywhere, s-so good, Spike, please..." He was crying now, body screaming with the need to come, the drive toward blessed relief, and he desperately fucked himself between Spike's fist and cock, tears pouring down his cheeks as he begged to be allowed to come. Spike wanted to hold on, to tease and torment the boy who'd wanted to be taken, but he couldn’t. Not when Xander was so desperate to come that he was sobbing. The familiar need for Spike to make a decision, denied by the chip, flooded him with lust and he started fucking into Xander, pace harsh and fast. But more importantly, Spike wanted to reward such a good, good boy. "Come," growled, so low that the bed seemed to vibrate with the word. "Come for me, boy." Every muscle in Xander's body tightened, all at once, and his vision went black as the orgasm tore through him, hollowed him out and erased him. He shivered and shook, wracked with the insane pleasure, knuckles white on the headboard and a high, animal cry pouring from his lips. Spike watched, greedily enjoying the way Xander seemed to devolve in his pleasure, turning animalistic. Beautiful. "Yes," he encouraged, fucking still as the boy emptied himself all over the bed. "Yes. My boy. Mine." Muscles clamped impossibly tight around him, but he was a vampire with preternatural strength; he kept fucking, kept thrusting his cock in so deep he could almost pierce the heart that pounded within Xander's chest. "Yes. Good boy, that's -- that's -- " Spike threw his head back and shouted blue murder when he finally came, filling the boy with his spunk, marking him his, always Spike's. True to his word, he didn't pull out after the last tremor finally faded, gasping for air as he jerked and shuddered within Xander's body. He did reach up, unclamping Xander's hands. "Good boy," he praised, easing them both back onto the bed. Wrapping his arms around Xander's body, he praised and kissed. "Such a good boy for me, pet. Such a perfect little boy." Xander curled into Spike's body with a weary groan, throwing one thigh over Spike's hip and sighing contentedly. His whole body buzzed and sang with pleasure and a little soreness, and he felt his eyes drooping closed. Buffy, he thought. I should call Buffy, check in, let her know I'm okay... "Okay," he murmured, before sinking into slumber. Spike stayed awake while Xander's breath slowed, his heart settling into the rhythms of sleep. It was amazing how many injustices and keenly felt injuries slid away with the presence of the warm boy sleeping trustingly against him. Still not the Big Bad anymore, but to him, I am. Big enough and bad enough to make him scream, do whatever I tell him to. Oh, he knew the boy wanted it, obeyed with a willing eagerness that he'd have to find the source of, eventually. But Spike wasn't so concerned with the why, just the how. And how pretty he looked, so scared that I'd stop and punish him. Pleasantly aching in ways he hadn't for too long -- Harmony was only good when she stopped talking and let him do whatever he wanted to her -- Spike worked the blankets out to cover both of them. The boy's heat was like a crackling fire, heating the sheets so that Spike was warm all over. "Now, no losin’ it when you wake up," he cautioned, pulling Xander more firmly to him. "No forgetting." Part Seven Xander was dreaming. It was warm, and he felt sweaty and restless. He stretched his arms, tossed his head, but the feeling stayed. It crept through him, this warmth, with tendrils that wrapped around his thighs and wrists and stroked lightly. His skin felt tingly, and he wanted... something. He just wanted. He ran his tongue over his lips, and tasted something good. Slowly, he began to float up to the waking world, wanting more. Spike woke the minute the boy started twitching in his sleep. For a few blissful hours, his own rest had been the deep, sated kind of sleep that only came when Spike knew everything was right with the world. Not that it was, but Spike had his boy tucked safe in his arms, bodies well shagged and sticky with their passion, and that was more than enough for Spike's internal pressure level to beep at full. But all too soon his sleep was restless, light, wary that Xander would slip out as soon as he 'remembered'. And that just wouldn't do. "Shh." Spike stroked down the vertebrae in Xander's neck, the tendons there overly tense as Xander twisted and searched for whatever it was his sleeping mind desired. "Relax, pretty, just relax." In his dream, he pushed his hands against the tendrils that held him, moving his mouth forward to find the source of that good taste. Out in the real world, Xander pushed Spike's hands away from him and leaned forward to lick his chest. Humming with pleasure, he continued, hands running over the exposed flesh, burrowing under the blankets as he licked down, pushing his hips against Spike's thighs. A muffled 'good' came from under the blanket. Spike stretched, rolling like a contented kitten. That pushed Xander even closer to his growing cock, something Spike wasn't upset about. Threading his fingers through the boy's hair, Spike made sure he wasn't directing, wasn't forcing, just holding. Warmth rose up to bathe the skin of his palm, oils from sleeping through the night making the strands slick. "Good boy," he said, voice low and soft so not to shake Xander out of whatever dream or trance he was in. "Very good boy." More of the good, salty taste was found, lower and lower, it seemed. As Xander fumbled through his dream state, blindly searching a tiny, dark, sweaty cavern for the perfect donut, his hands stole over Spike's body, soon coming to rest on the dripping cock he found poking up from Spike's hips. Ah ha! he imagined in his dream state. Icing! He dipped his head and licked. He was immediately shocked into consciousness by the solid, real feel of flesh under his tongue. He sat up and threw off the covers, straddling Spike's thighs, both of them naked, his hand wrapped around Spike's cock and the taste of pre-come on his tongue. His eyes wide, Xander's mouth opened and closed, but nothing would come out. Damn! Not that this was a problem, though, not with Xander giving him a big-eyed look of shock, mouth flapping like a guppy's. Smirking from his prone position, Spike cupped the boy's jaw, stilling it, his thumb rubbing along the soft, wet lower lip. "Morning, boy. Sleep well, hm?" Pressing inside for just a moment -- wouldn't do to give the lad a chance to bite -- Spike removed his hand and let it splay over Xander's chest. The muscles tensed under his touch, starting to heave from quickening breath. Should give him something to pant about. While the thought of reintroducing Xander to what his life was now had its appeal, he wasn't sure he wanted to expend the effort. Particularly since his cock was rather urgently demanding to go back into the boy's luscious mouth. To distract Xander, then, Spike found the boy's nipple and tweaked it lightly. "Good dreams?" Oh, God, yes, good dreams... Xander knelt at Spike's waist, unable to believe what he was seeing. Spike was supposed to be gone, or trying to kill him. Crazy vampires won't do what they're supposed to... He would run. He should run. Except that his hand was wrapped around Spike's rock-hard dick, and Spike was smiling at him like that, and the touch, oh, mmm, yeah, with a little twist and squeeze that... Eyes half-shut with pleasure, Xander looked nothing less than a little boy who'd been told Christmas did exist and here was Santa to give him a pressie. Except this isn't a Family Approved kind of pressie, is it? "You stopped, pet. About to give me a nice wake up, the kind you're gonna give me lots of mornings, and you stopped." He allowed his smile to turn just a hint wicked, hand busy on the boy's chest, finding all the places that made him moan. "Should punish you for that, maybe. But first... want a suck, boy? Want to feel me in your mouth, heavy and wet, filling you with my spunk?" The words slammed into him with the force of a Mack truck. Mental note: never tell Spike fantasies again. "Yeah," he heard his voice say, and then, startled, looked at Spike wide-eyed as though he could explain it. Spike, of course, smirked and continued his explorations, over collarbone and navel, sides and nipples. Then something swum up out of his memory and he grimaced. "But, uh... ohhh.... mm. I think maybe we should wash you... off... first... oh, God..." "Uh huh." Spike rubbed his palm over the boy's heaving belly, enjoying the hardness turning into flexible soft with each breath. "But you don't want to, do you, boy? You want me any way you can get me. Want to lower yourself down, supplicating. Let your mouth taste how good we are, mixed together." Turning Xander into a puddle of lust was fun. But he did, unfortunately, have a point. Xander hadn't been overwhelmingly dirty before they'd had their fun, but he hadn't been as clean as Spike would make him, later. So, shower then -- because Spike would have his morning blowjob, and Xander would oh so willingly give it to him. Mm. Boy, on his knees, water plastering his hair to his head… He surged up from the bed, quick enough that Xander gasped in shock, capturing the boy's mouth while he took Xander's hand, wrapping it around the boy's already hard cock. "Stroke yourself, pet," he said, foreheads nearly touching he was so close, his breath making Xander's hair wave. "I want to watch you. Get nice and hard for me, boy." Spike didn't have to ask twice. Instantly, Xander was rubbing and stroking, gentle and teasing. Spike had said nice and hard, so he would get it -- this wasn't for getting off, this was for something else. When the tip of his cock brushed against Spike's belly, Xander moaned high in his throat. That noise… Spike chased it, mouthing along Xander's throat to find that sweet, ball-tingling noise that Xander made. All he found was hot flesh, but that didn't disappoint him. "Good boy. Now, then. Don't let go, all right? Don't stop stroking yourself, nice and slow." Slithering off the bed, Spike picked Xander up, holding him around the stomach until he was certain the boy's feet were firmly on the floor. Then he walked him backwards, keeping an eye out for anything Xander could trip on and still watching that hand, tanned even darker when compared to the reddened flush of his cock, continue to move. Spike moved him into the bathroom, stopping him with a touch on his shoulder. Turning on the water, Spike was very relieved to find it immediately running hot. The mineral tang was too strong, interfering with his scent of horny, willing boy, but for heat it was a small price to pay. "In the shower, pet. On your knees. You need to learn to clean up your toys after playin' with them." Xander hit his knees and crawled into the shower, practically shivering with want. His cock was aching, dying for Spike's touch, getting only his own -- totally insufficient. As soon as he felt the tile under his knees, he turned to find Spike, wanting to touch him, to suck him as Spike had promised. On his knees again, yes, please, yes... Spike stepped into the shower, drawing the curtain closed with a screech of plastic on abused metal. Facing away from Xander, he reached for the bar of soap -- thank Christ this motel has delusions of grandeur -- freshly wrapped and waiting on the ledge and unwrapped it -- but didn't turn around. He heard the boy's breathing hitch with confusion as the water streamed around him, soaking him thoroughly and sending waves of heat through his body. Mmm. Love hot water. He waited a few moments longer, waiting for that telltale tremor in the beat of Xander's heart, the confusion, the scent of fear that he would be abandoned after all… Lovely. Slowly turning around, Spike smirked down at Xander's shivering body -- and then handed over the soap, without instruction. Xander accepted the soap with a flood of relief. He rubbed it between his hands fast, working up a healthy white lather, and then placed it between his knees and reached for Spike's cock. Spike stopped him, a particularly evil smile stretching his face. "Say please, pretty boy." "Please," Xander begged, looking up into Spike's face and pushing close to him without reservation. Had to wash Spike, get him clean, so Xander could have that thick cock in his mouth, suck it on his knees, feel the water sluice over him as he tickled with his tongue. The surge of lust and power was enough that Spike could ignore the hint of affection, smatterings of brown through gold and red, cupping his dripping hand through Xander's hair. "Good boy. Don't need to train you at all, do I? Such a good boy for me." Xander shook his head, agreeing. "No, you don't need to. I'm good, I can be good. Let me, Spike, let me..." He lifted his hands, frothy and white with lather, creep closer and closer to Spike's cock. "Go on, boy. I want to feel you." Spike didn't release his grip in Xander's hair -- gonna make him grow it out long, give me something to wrap around my hand -- as those big, work-roughened hands slid up his thighs to the prize standing tall in between. He made noises depending on what Xander did, guiding him into the perfect level of pressure and speed. Xander's first instinct was to go fast. Soap up that thick, hard length, take away anything undesirable, and then rinse it all off, so it was perfect and beautiful and, above all, suckable. But as his hands moved over the soft, pale skin, Spike made tiny sounds of pleasure and encouragement, hands in Xander's hair, and Xander whined under his breath before doing exactly as Spike wanted. Because what else could he do? He worked his hands up and down Spike's cock, squeezing and stroking, learning what pleased Spike best. That was something, anyway... Now all he had to do was ignore his watering mouth, and his own very insistent cock, and he was set. Spike let Xander stroke him clean for much longer than the amount of gunk covering him warranted. It was too easy to tease Xander, and Spike loved every moment of it. "Got me nice and ready, don't you? Let go, boy. Let me rinse off." Turning sideways so the water splashed against the boy's face, Spike gripped the base of his cock and let the hot water run all over his lower body, rinsing the suds clean. He was fairly certain that it wasn't just water wetting the boy's chin but drool as well -- but then, what kind of vampire would Spike be, if he didn't draw this out as long as he could? "Spike," Xander whispered, aching with want. He didn't care what this was, how it happened. All he knew was need, and he couldn't think past that right now. "Ready for this, boy?" The question was rhetorical but asking it would drag this out that much longer. "Ready for me to fill your throat, boy? Stretch you open while you suck and suck like the mindless little boy you are?" He could almost feel the muscles below opening in readiness. It was hot in the shower, the water steaming up the glass door, and he felt his skin on fire all over. "Yes," he breathed, resting his hands on Spike's thighs and darting his tongue over the soft hip. "Yes, Spike, please..." "Hands off," Spike ordered. Gripping the base of his cock, Spike ran the head over Xander's parted lips. Breath hotter and wetter than the steam around them blew over his cock, warming it as it remembered the burgeoning talent of the mouth he teased. Pre-come dribbled out from the tip, coating the boy's lips like messy, translucent lipstick. Beautiful. He wondered how loudly Xander would scream if he suggested a facial? Pressing his head at the center of Xander's soft, distended lips, Spike pushed in. "Suck me, boy. Hands only when I say you can use 'em." Xander darted his tongue over his lips, feeling the soft head of Spike's cock against his mouth. The flavor of him burst over Xander's tongue, and his mouth watered again -- he'd wanted this taste back since he first had it. He hummed around Spike's length and twisted his hands together, trying not to use them. Closer and closer he edged on his knees, intently focused on the water-warmed length on his tongue. He fluttered and twisted his tongue, sucked hard, fully intending to blow Spike's mind out right through his cock. He wanted to make Spike come, and he used every moan, every sound of approval he earned as an instant cue to do whatever he just did a second time. Fuck, he learns fast. Spike wasn't objecting, though, welcoming the wet heat that let him ride in as rough as he wanted. Grunts and gasps escaped from the boy's mouth, mixing with the noises Spike freely made as Xander used every trick he'd learned the night before and tried out a few more for size. Come on, thought Xander, his knuckles white as he fought with himself not to touch. Don't touch, not time to touch. Come on, do it. I want it from you, please, come on. Just this, just give me this and I can get through what's coming when you sober up or whatever and realize what you're doing. Just give me this. Urgency smelled like dry, burning parchment, choking him despite the heady lust and mind-filling steam that clouded the shower stall. Xander wanted, so badly that it verged on pain to Spike's sensitive nose. He rode into the boy's mouth, hand curled protectively around the back of his head, wondering just what it was that Xander wanted so badly. Turning into a cock-hound, is my boy, and aren't I glad of that? But if he's got me, sucking on me so sweet, aching for me to come -- why's it feel like there's something else? Like he wants more? Spike tightened his grip around wet clumps of curls, tugging lightly to make Xander look up at him. "What's got you so desperate, hm?" he mused. His voice was slow, considering, and ragged from the constant pressure and warmth that cradled his most sensitive bits. "Already got my cock, pretty slut. What more are you wanting?" Unspoken was that Spike would give it, if he could. Mine now, boy, and I take care of mine. Let me know how you want it, and I'll make sure you get it. Oh, not how you're expecting -- wouldn't do that. But gotta let me know, boy. Show me somethin'. Xander couldn't help it anymore, his hands flew up to clutch Spike's hips. He held on, held on tight, rocked Spike forward into his mouth and looked up, tried to express it without words. He could never say the words. I want to keep you. I know I never can, stupid to want it, but I can't help it. I want you, Spike -- not just your cock or your words, but you. I want to belong to you, to know that you own me. I can give you what I have; I can be what you need. I'll do it, I'll do anything... anything that doesn't hurt anybody else. Just tell me... tell me I can stay... And then he knew the words. He knew what he needed, and it would kill him to say it, but he had to try. Reluctantly, he pulled off of Spike's cock, staying as close as possible without actually sucking him, his lips brushing over the spit-slick skin. "Spike," he carefully pronounced, listening to himself saying it. Brown eyes met blue. "Tell me you want me?" He'd had stakes punched through him before. Not to the heart, obviously, but belly and shoulder and once his thigh -- he knew what it felt like, that moment of resistance that never accomplished anything except more pain as the body prepared for the squelch and the slide and the inside out feeling of something that shouldn't be in you sliding right in, rearranging whatever it needed to push yet deeper. Something surged in him, sense-memory of what adrenaline felt like pumping through a live body, and Spike snarled. Grabbing the boy's head, he slammed that tempting mouth back over his cock, fucking the boy as hard and deep as a near-virgin could take it. "What fucking part of mine did you miss?" he growled, the words punctuated with gasps as he fucked the boy's mouth, riding over a slick tongue and cool, ridged teeth. "Think I'll keep something I don't want?" Well, yeah, obviously if the boy was still asking. Lust and need mixed in his belly, turning into cold, condensed rage. "Off," he ordered, tugging on the boy's neck not near as hard as he should have. "Fucking get off! You think I don't want you? You think I'm lying, or under some fucking spell still, and I'll toss you out like yesterday's newspaper?" Xander stumbled back against the shower wall, still crouching as he spread his arms wide to catch himself. Spike was flaring above him, glaring down, demanding. Xander levered himself upright, still holding onto the wall for support, even as he felt a matching anger rise in him. "Do I...? Hello! You're evil! TLC, not your forte!" He was confused and kind of pissed off, but he felt it -- this was it. This was the moment everything stopped being so good and Spike realized what he was doing. Xander shook his head, decided to go get his clothes and get the hell out of here before the yelling started. He hadn't gone one step when Spike's hand lashed out, took him by the elbow, spun him 180 degrees and pushed him face-first up against the wall. Spike covered the boy's back with his body, mouth wet against the boy's ear. "Did I say you could go?" he purred, menace and sex twisted up until they were inseparable. "Said get off, pet, pretty boy who doubts too much. Said move, because obviously you haven't gotten the message yet. But that's okay, innit? That's just peachy." While he spoke, his hands roamed around the boy's body, finding nipples, squashed up against the tile, but hard and pinchable. A belly that heaved, hips automatically canting out, arse rubbing into Spike's cock, accommodating the fingers that rubbed and stroked the hard muscles there. His mouth was busy on the boy's ear and neck, working up red mark after red mark, his mind frantic as he tried to remember where he'd dropped the damned bottle of shampoo -- not his lube of choice, but at least not harmful to the boy -- and if he could get it without releasing Xander. Since every time Spike let go another of the boy's insecurities surfaced to ruin Spike's perfect early morning fuck. "You're mine, pretty toy," he promised, voice sinking into skin that shivered and turned into goose flesh despite the heat of the water pounding down on them. "Keeping you, wanting you, and not ever letting you go. Gonna prove it, too, boy. Gonna fuck you so hard you'll feel me for days, give you the reaming you've been begging for. Gonna stake my claim in your body, Xander. Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to." Part Eight The need building with every word Spike said was like pain, desperate and imminent. It spiraled out from his belly to haze his mind, dull his vision and turn his limbs to Jell-o. "Spike," he breathed, writhing against the wall. "Please...?" Xander edged his feet wider apart and rocked back, feeling the hardness there ready to claim him, the hardness of Spike's whole being. Hands, words, eyes, all of it was unforgiving and demanding and perfect. He'd choked on words like this his whole life, and Spike was promising to keep him now, to stay... Xander wanted to tell him. "Spike... c-c-can I t-talk?" Spike purposefully hesitated, using the moment to find the damned bottle of shampoo -- almost out of reach of his dexterous toes, but he still managed to snag it -- dropping his hand to the boy's cock, fondling it thoughtfully before finally relenting. "Talk, boy," he ordered. "Least till I say to stop again." Well, bunch of fucking good it does me to have permission to talk when your hand's doing... oh, God, doing that... Didn't look to be stopping anytime soon, though, and Spike said to talk, so Xander gritted his teeth against the pleasure sparking through him and spoke. "Spike... Spike, I want you. Please. Please, take me. I d-don't know why, or h-how, but if you r-r-really want me... take me, please..." Xander felt the click of the opening bottle through his whole body. Oh, fuck, yes... He didn't know what Spike had back there and didn't bother to find out -- just reached up to the ledge where the shower ended and open air began, grabbed the edge and held on tight. "Please..." "Good boy," Spike praised, allowing the boy to resettle his weight. Hate using shampoo, stings like a bitch, but the proper stuff is gonna have to wait until later. Not waiting now, not a fucking chance, save that for next time. Next time, when they were back at the boy's basement and nicely settled in. When Xander finally fucking believed. Two fingers dripping with the thick, syrupy stuff, Spike worked both of them inside the boy. Xander's gasp and arch made him laugh, a low chuckle that he pressed into the boy's shoulder. "Like that, huh?" he asked. "The stretch and burn of it. Like it rough, don't you, boy? I like it, at least. Don't gotta be slow with you, oh no. Just shove my way in deep inside you because you like the hurt, pretty boy. Like whatever I give you cause you're mine." Despite his words, he did make sure the boy was fairly open and relaxed before working the third finger in, and then even a fourth. Xander was still near-virginal and as rough as Spike liked it, he didn't want to truly hurt the boy. Actual pain here would send the boy back to the loving arms of his demon-killing friends, and Spike wasn't going to let that happen if it meant just a few more seconds of work. Xander leaned against the cool tile, head to one side, breath ragged and uneven as Spike's fingers stretched him wide, impossibly wide. "Spike," he groaned, unable to be still, squirming and pushing lightly against Spike's touch. "Please don't tease, please... take me..." "Think this is teasing? You ain't seen teasing, then, pet. Oh, what I'm gonna do to you." His fingers slid deeper, loving the way muscles clenched and squeezed. "Gonna tie you down, pet. Touch and taste wherever I want. Do whatever I want, 'cause this body is mine to play with. Drive you wild with longing, keep you hanging for hours, boy. Leave you needy and desperate and begging for whatever I'll give. And you'll love it, boy. You'll fucking crave it." Mine, boy. Gonna crave me. On 'crave', Spike yanked his fingers out, not caring that it'd probably hurt a little, lining up and slamming balls deep by the time he finished exhaling. Xander's mouth dropped open, his eyes rolling back as he gasped aloud. He clutched at the wall, feeling Spike's cock slide so deep inside him, the hard body at his back solid and beautiful. "F... f... f..." Xander fought the word, tried to get his mouth and tongue and throat to all work together the way they should, but Spike's cock was calling the shots and it was really hard. He tried to breathe, clear the haze of blistering pleasure throbbing through his body for a second. "F... f..." Spike slammed into him again, hard, and Xander burst out, "Jesus! Oh, Spike, f-f-fuck me! Please, please fuck me..." Spike braced one hand against the slick shower wall, the other yanking at the boy's hips, tugging him further away from the wall so Spike could fuck him all the harder. "Am fucking you," he promised. "Always gonna, pet. Think I don't want you? Think I'm gonna toss you away, used up and worthless? Got years of this left in you, boy, and I plan on finding every kink, every need, every drop of what makes you tick. Gonna fuck you raw, boy. Fuck you till you can't stand, just clinging to the damned wall while I slam you into it." Xander almost laughed. "Bit.. late... for that..." As if to emphasize his point, his knees began to wobble, and he prayed that they wouldn't give out, that they'd hold him long enough... that the freaking shower would hold them long enough... His cock was twitching in time with his heart, pounding in the same rhythm, desperate for a touch. Xander whimpered, just a little bit, trying to ignore it. And then Spike pulled his hips, and the angle shifted, and that spot deep inside suddenly was being pummeled by Spike's cock and he cried out in surprise and pleasure. "Oh! Oh, God, Spike, it's... you... have to... tell me... if I c-c-can..." "No." It wasn't a snarl, it was a damned shout, but Spike didn't care. He reached around for the boy's cock, squeezing the base of it while he continued to fuck his way deeper and deeper into Xander's body. "Not yet, pretty, not so soon. Want you begging for it, first. Know what you're gonna tell me? Gonna tell me that I want you. Say it over and over. Say that you're mine, and you know I want you until you fucking believe it." Privately, Spike wasn't sure just how successful this plan would be. Their feet were starting to slip on tiles, the water cooling around them, and he wasn't sure he would last that long, either. But this was an object lesson and Spike wasn't going to let them stop until he'd gotten at least some satisfaction that it'd been learned. What? Whoa! Time out, no fair! Still shaking a little from the shout, from the instant flash of motion that cut him off from the peak he was straining so hard toward, Xander tried to calm down enough to explain about how that made no sense. Unfortunately, this was Spike, and Spike was fucking him hard enough to batter down the clapboard shower stall, hand on Xander's dick and so fucking good... I can't, he thought. I can't lie to him, I don't know it. I can't tell him I believe it... but then, Xander reversed, he doesn't want me to tell him I believe it, just to say it. Say it, oh, hell, yeah, that I can do... "Y... you w-want me." His voice sounded tremulous, like he was just trying out the sentence, which he was. Xander tried again. "Y-you want m-me." There. That was a little better. His voice shook with the thrusts, with the hot jets of pleasure that shot through his blood, over his skin, but he'd tried, that's what mattered... "Again," Spike ordered. Say it till it’s lodged so deep in your head that nothin’ll get it out again. Till you wake up with those words in your mind, on your skin, feeling it with every bit of you. He ran his teeth down the boy's shoulder, studying the pretty red marks that he'd made without ever breaking the skin. "Say it again. Wanna hear you believe it, know it in your gut that you're mine." "You want me," Xander broke out, the hard thrusts forcing the words out of him along with his breath. "You want me," he groaned, sex-words that meant the same thing as 'fuck me' or 'God, it's so good.' "You want me," cried Xander, feeling that Spike definitely wanted him to do something, desperate to do whatever it was, to be whatever Spike wanted if only he could be allowed to come... Spike bit down, hard enough that the boy sucked in a desperate breath, but none of the rich, coppery liquid he yearned for filled his mouth. Not yet, not when he was still trying to convince the boy that Spike meant what he said. "I do want you," he told Xander, fucking harder yet. More and they'd fall, or he'd truly hurt Xander, so this was the limit for him. "Want a hot, sweet boy with a mouth that begs for my cock even as it pisses me off. Want this body, tight and willing, dressed up in clothes that'd make a clown cry. Want you insecure and loyal and trusting and oh, fucking mine. You get this? Not. Letting. You. Go." Each word was punctuated with another thrust, hard enough that Xander was shoved up onto his toes with each one. Spike bit again, same pressure as before, his grip on Xander's cock changing from too tight to just right, stripping him to the rhythm of their fucking. "Say it," he ordered. Red mist formed before his eyes and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Nor would his boy. Spike's words swam in his head, in front of his vision. Almost every word provoked about equal parts 'Hey!' and some emotion he was not about to name. It was slow and liquid and he didn't want to think of it. In this moment, for whatever reason, he believed. "Have me," he whispered, answering Spike's unspoken demand. "You want me, I know. Take me, Spike..." Spike snarled, feral with need but still retaining human cunning. His hand slipped south, grabbing the boy's jouncing balls, kneading them just on the side of rough, before allowing his fingers to slip lower still. He wanted the boy in sensory fucking overload. "Tell me you're mine," he said. Nimble fingers found the boy's perineum and stroked once, then pressed. "Tell me you're mine and you can come." Xander twisted against the fingers pressing against him, desperate for Spike's hand on his cock, Spike's cock deep in him, even for the breath on his neck, just more, please, more... "Yours, yours, yours, Spike, I'm yours, please..." "Good boy." Spike twisted, the bottom of his arm rasping against the boy's cock, trapping it between arm and belly, offering just faint amounts of friction, fingers pressed hard on the perineum, while his dick slammed into the boy's prostate. That’s it, pretty boy. Show me, let me give you presents for being such a sweet little thing… "Come," he ordered, wanting to feel the boy shudder and cry out before finally releasing. With the words that meant yes, yes, it's all right, go ahead, I have you, you're mine, Xander's muscles flexed and tightened, the bliss rocketing through his body as he let go all restraint and screamed, the orgasm blasting through him. Dimly, he felt plastic crack under his grip, felt Spike's hips smack against his own, everything an insane riot of sound and fury. Spike caught the boy as he sagged forward, pulling him closer as he fucked into shuddering, quivering, grasping muscle until his own orgasm ripped through him. He growled, low and long, teeth pressed against the boy's back as he pulsed inside him, filling him, telling him without words that this wasn't just a fuck. Not the one night stand version, at least. When his hips stopped twitching and his cock finally started to soften, Spike noticed the water falling against them was cold and lacking in anything resembling pressure. Damn. "Awake, pet?" he asked. "Mmm?" Dimly, Spike's voice was asking him something. Xander tried to open his eyes -- it was tough, but he managed. "Spike?" Not, then. S’all right. Spike pulled out as gently as he could -- it wasn't very, but he was pretty sure he didn't hurt the boy -- using handfuls of water to clean the boy up before turning off the spigot with his foot. "Towels," he commanded, hustling the boy over to the scraggly, thin things this motel claimed would dry a person off, rubbing them over the boy first since it wasn't him that worried about pneumonia. Xander stumbled out of the shower with Spike, noting the cold almost as soon as it disappeared with Spike's hands and the ‘towels’. He stood, compliant, as Spike did what was necessary, feeling the silly smile on his face but unable to stop it. "Nap?" he asked groggily. Spike considered that. The boy was wavering on his feet, and curling up around that sex-warmed body sounded just fine. Except it was dark enough outside that they could skip out, head back to the boy's place and sleep on ... on a bed no more comfortable than this, but maybe with lube that he wouldn't have to worry about hurting Xander as they used it. It also included the potential of the boy's friends. Damn. Gonna actually have to get through to him, get some answers with him not able to do more’n drool. Not that it’s not a pretty picture... Hm. Climbing on to the bed, Spike stretched out and tugged the boy against him. "No napping yet, boy. Gotta make plans." "Kay," Xander murmured, rousing slightly from his post-coital drunkenness to twine himself around Spike's body. "What are we planning?" At that precise moment? Spike was planning on how to get the boy to suck him off, since it'd been twice now that he'd been prevented from coming in that mouth of his. He needed a little more time before springing that, though, so he said, "Can't stay here forever, you know." His fingers found wet, curling strands of hair that he toyed with absently. "We'll need food for us both. Better lube." Mmm, food good. Pizza. Oh, yeah, pizza'd be good. And then Spike could... Wait. Would Spike expect to feed on him now? He'd read in more than one book that vampires and humans sometimes did that, the human expected to give their wrist over when whoever it was got thirsty, all depraved and evil and surely in no way sexy. Even in the best of circumstances, he wouldn't be ready right this minute, he'd need time to adjust to the idea. Maybe, like, a needle prick or something first, to warm him up to it, and... Spike could practically hear the boy salivating over food he'd gone a good twelve or fifteen hours without, after several fairly body-straining shags. He'd be starving... which should've produced grumbling stomachs. Not a rise of fear, oily and slick, staining his skin the way fear never used to. Bloody stuff used to be ambrosia, not this tar-thick sludge dirtying the air. "Hey," he said, probably more sharply than he should've, given the way the boy jerked. "What's got you so upset, huh? Afraid the pizza's are gonna eat you?" Xander lifted one eyebrow. "Anybody ever tell you that's really creepy? That... thing, where you can tell what people are thinking just because? Cause, really, creepy." Off Spike's flat look, Xander raised his hands. "Okay, okay, not bucking the system or anything. Just... I've read about how vampires and humans are if they're... together..." He laughed suddenly. "What do you even call us?" 'Food' or 'slaves' probably isn’t gonna go over well. Christ, pet, you think I want to compare you to those starveling things Dru used to keep as long as she remembered she had to feed them or not drink too deep? Not a chance, Xander. I treat mine better than that. "Pets, usually. And you heard what about vamps and humans that've hooked up?" Perversely, Xander pushed his face down beside Spike's body, drawing comfort from being close. From having him nearby, from being permitted to touch him like that. "Sometimes... sometimes the vampire wants to... well, I guess it's kind of like boyfriend-on-tap, but the technical term I'm sure would be a lot more complicated..." Spike allowed the boy to burrow closer, obligingly wrapping his arms around him to complete the feeling. Such a lovely little thing, already understanding that cuddling -- not very vampiric, but I like it, and it’s me that we’re catering to -- was something he would spend a lot of time doing. Spike was tactile, far more so than most vampires, and he enjoyed the heat of the boy against him. He enjoyed the chance to play with the boy's body, too, finger's wandering down to stroke at the tip of the boy's crease. "Boyfriend on tap, hm? Is that what you want to be?" He let his voice drop, knowing the boy would feel the words as much as he heard them. "Always ready for me, pet, waiting for me to touch and taste you. Not a lot, oh no. Not a pin cushion. But knowing how much I want that heat inside me... " Sparks of arousal drifted lazily through his body at Spike's touch, but the words obscured them. "But... I mean, I just don't know if it's a good idea, what with the scarring and the blood loss and the very, very much pain is also a big deterrent." Poor boy. All little an’ young an’ scared. Chuckling, Spike rolled so that the boy was on his back, Spike plastered above him. "Is that what you're worried about, hm? Not objecting to me having some, so long as you're okay afterwards? Such a treasure, pet. Beautiful and," he darted down to nip the boy's neck, "edible." Rocking, slithering, writhing above the boy, cocks pressed together with the barest, maddening hint of friction, Spike laughed again and began peppering kisses over the boy's face and neck. "Blood loss, pretty boy, just means I don't take much, and you start taking iron tabs. Pig's blood gives me the crap I need, so won’t need to take much more than a chaser from you, will I? Give me a taste of ambrosia. Scarring, now, you ever seen vampires with great big scars on their neck, hm? Not hardly, pet. Got a secret, I do, and I'll keep you smooth and beautiful long as I can. "Now, as for the pain. . ." Spike attacked the boy's chest, nipping and licking and sucking one area, turning it red and swollen and highly sensitive. Won’t take much. Can’t. Just a sip, a little bit to show him how fucking magnificent a bite could be. Just a sip . . . "Completely... no... fair..." Xander rocked back against his assailant, feeling the glorious slide and brush of hot flesh on cool, the velvet of Spike's skin. Spike was maddening him, making him gasp and buck with every grind, every pull of his mouth. Xander groaned deep in his throat, his hands instinctively rising up above his head to give Spike better access, but then... A little slice of bright pain shot across his senses. In a flash, it was there and gone, and the surprise brought one hand to the back of Spike's head, to grip the short hair there. But before he could do anything, a very warm, placid feeling began to spread through his limbs from the spot on his chest where Spike was grimacing, his head firm against Xander's bone. Chip must have buzzed him, Xander thought, and then all thought disappeared as the firm draw began. It was a whirlwind through his mind, his body. Everything merged, throbbing hard and pliantly calm, he just held Spike's head to him as languid pleasure seeped into his bones. "S... S... Spike..." It was like wine, smooth and rich, sending his head buzzing with a thousand wings, the slow build of heady pleasure leaving him soaring. Just a little, just a touch, a tiny taste, a trifle. All Spike needed to do was show him how good it was. Worth the slight jolt of the chip to find that floating, flying feeling of giving up, letting go. Trusting. Trusting Spike. Taste so good, boy, so fucking good. Fuck, was he hard again. Another pull -- not deep, never deep, couldn't, not yet -- and Spike carefully laved over the bite, stopping the bleeding and letting the wound seal itself. There'd be faint, barely-there scars by the time it healed, which'd be soon, the way Spike had prepped him. Nicely done, if he did say so himself. Finding a warm, heavy thigh to rock against, Spike trailed a wet path from bite to nipple, nipping it lightly. "So. Definitely not doing that again, are we?" Xander panted in the aftershocks. The warmth, the helplessness, the sensation again of Spike being in him... God, it was almost too much. Terrifying and insanely exciting. "Shut up," he shivered as Spike's teeth scraped over his nipple, the phrase as natural as breathing. "Oh, God, Spike, can we... I need you again, please..." He rocked up against the hard body, his cock throbbing for the want of a touch, his head back against the pillows as the arousal poured through him, all flowing from those two dots of glowing red on his chest. Spike rolled onto his back again, smirking at the hot, horny boy beside him. It was a bit soon, given how hard he’d come not twenty minutes before, and Spike knew the boy would be exhausted later, dehydrated and starving -- but that’s for when I get him home, see what that roach-infested hovel of a basement can provide, then see about getting the rest. Oh yes, boy, ’m gonna coddle you. Wrap you in swaddling so you never want to leave. "C'mere, pet. Gonna finish up our little chat, you'n me, and then I'll let you sink down on my cock, mouth or arse, up to you." Xander blinked at him, totally lost. They'd been talking? Why? "Huh?" Spike tugged, manhandling the boy so his head was on Spike's thigh, his arse near Spike's shoulder and in perfect position for playing. It probably wasn't comfortable for Xander, but he didn't look like he was hurting -- thank Christ their torso's were about the same size and it was just Xander's legs that were so damned long, or it would've been impossible. "Had some questions, didn't you?" he asked. He started stroking and kneading the boy's arse, occasionally reaching down to card the boy's hair from his face. Warm breath ghosted over his erection, but Spike ignored that. "’Bout food, specifically the feeding of me?" "How about the feeding of me," Xander suggested, trying to angle his head so he could get Spike's cock into his mouth. In this position, he could see pretty much nothing but the lower parts of Spike, and the burning points on his chest told him (apropos of nothing) that he was very interested in Spike's lower parts. One track mind, this one. Nice. Chuckling, Spike abandoned his perusal of the boy's arse to grip now-dried locks and hold the boy's head still. "Not till you have permission, boy. And we're talking about what happens once we go through those doors. Need a bit of reassurance, I do. Am I going to have to chase you down, remind you again of who you belong to?" Xander paused, caught in Spike's grip. "Probably," he admitted. "Maybe not so much with the chasing, but the reminding... yeah. Yeah, that's probably going to be needed." A mischievous impulse seized him, and he pushed his dripping cock into Spike's side. "Frequently." Spike growled, tightening his grip in the boy's hair until the chip gave a warning sizzle, grabbing the boy's cock with the other hand so tightly he got an actual jolt. "Wrong answer, pet. Will I have to chase you down, then play hide-and-stake-Spike with your friends?" "What?" Xander exclaimed, suddenly very nervous, frozen in place with Spike's hand gripping him hard both top and bottom. "What do you mean? What exactly are we talking about here? I won't run, I won't, I want to stay with you, but I know I'm gonna get nervous about whether or not you really want to be with me and I can try to hide it but you will so totally growl at me if I do and don't even pretend you won't! What about my friends? What?" Oh, yes. This is Xander. This is Xander in full freak out mode. Any questions? Spike relaxed his hold on the boy's cock -- didn't want to hurt him, really, just needed to make a point -- rubbing his thumb over the silken strands of hair caught between his knuckles. "Relax, pet. Figured on you bein' nervous and insecure, and I'm more than happy to remind you that you're mine, and you're stayin' mine. Just didn't want your goody good friends to come at me with a stake, you hidin’ behind them." And it still might come to that. Spike's persuasiveness was nil against that crowd, and the boy wasn't exactly an orator born. But so long as Xander wasn't willingly switching sides, Spike was content. More than. Gonna fight for you, boy. Show ’em I’m not hurting you – unwillingly or much, anyway – and that you want this as much as I do. "And after this," he continued, starting to flex his fist so the boy's hair was pulled in a slow, rhythmic motion that made the boy's cock twitch and quiver. "We're going back to your place, least as long as it takes for me to find you someplace better, yeah?" "And again... I say... not fair..." Xander's breath was coming sharper, Spike's hand rubbing through the beads of pre-come, slipping so good, and every damn time Spike did that, Xander's brain dissolved into huhwhayeahsurefinewhatever just so long as it kept happening. Dammit. He was never gonna win an argument ever unless he kept his pants on. This would be important... later. Some time when Spike wasn't doing... that... "Can we stop... talking now?" Part Nine Spike chuckled and released the boy entirely. Folding his hands behind his head, he smirked even though he knew the boy couldn't see the expression. He'd hear it. "Pet's choice," he said magnanimously. Show me, pet. Prove to me that you’re not just a pain-slut taking the first bit that’s offered to you. "Whichever way you want it, boy." Instantly, Xander blushed beet red. He knew what he wanted, but he'd never hear the end of it if... oh, hell. He'd never hear the end of it anyway, Spike already knew his kink. Might as well... Nevertheless, he hid his face against Spike's thigh as he muttered his request. "Maybe... like we did the first time? You go stand over there and I..." Beautiful, beautiful boy. Spike wanted to dress him up in leather and jewels, parade him about for the world to see. Willing and beautiful, submissive as a trained pet ever could be, and all on his own. Magnificent. Spike slithered free of the boy's body, making certain to rub and even kiss as he got to his feet. "Here?" he asked, leaning shoulders against the wall, hips cocked. So beautiful, laid out over the wall, powerful and shining even in the low lamplight. "Yeah..." Xander said, hearing how his voice got low and husky, the need to do what he was about to do making his mouth water. In one simple movement, he hit the floor, shuffling forward on his knees until he reached Spike's feet. Every moment, his eyes were locked on the long, hard body in front of him; the strong thighs, flat belly, white skin, and the hard, thick cock that stood proud and full. Waiting for him. He thought for a split second about how to do this. When the answer occurred to him, he smiled, realizing how perfect it was. Xander sat back on his heels, spread his knees wide apart, clasped his hands behind his back for balance, and then looked up at Spike and slowly, deliberately licked his lips. If Spike were a lesser vampire, a picture like that would make him come. He wasn't a lesser vampire, but he still had to struggle a bit, breath turning heated in his mouth as he controlled his body. "Perfect," he breathed, unable to stop it. "A natural, pet, don't need any training at all. And all mine." The final word was a growl, ferocious and unintelligible if one hadn't listened to him repeat that word over and over for the past day. Pushing off smoothly from the wall, Spike sauntered the required two steps closer to the boy. He dragged a toe along the boy's erection, eyes locked on Xander’s black-swallowed-brown. "Want me to take you, is that it? Push in and fuck your mouth till it aches from the size of me?" Xander shivered, all over, his mouth falling open and breath whooshing out of his lungs. Oh, God, he wanted that. So much, too much, now, now, now. "Spike," he said, and it was pleading, begging, the name of what he wanted, exactly right, for so long, too long now. Every minute Spike was not touching him was a minute too much. His back arched, cock bobbing the last few inches to brush over the boy's mouth. Pre-come smeared, silvery, gleaming lines painted over lips and cheek, marking the boy. "Such a good boy. A hungry little slut," he added, knowing it made the boy shiver even harder. "Hungry," Xander breathed in agreement, tongue flicking out to draw in the precious taste. It spread over his tongue like fireworks, like Fourth of July. Excitement, awe, little bit of danger. Spike. He opened his mouth wide, but didn't move any further forward -- that was for Spike to do, if he would. He wanted to draw it out, tease the boy into desperate need -- except he was already there. Christ, what you do to me, greedy boy. Perfect and mine. With a groan of satisfaction, Spike pushed his cock into Xander's mouth, not stopping until the head stopped against the back of Xander’s throat. "Oh, fuck yes." Every inch that Spike gave him, Xander worshiped. Every time Spike did this, he loved it more: to be used like this, to be taken, to have a thing he could do that would make Spike -- Spike! -- shiver and groan and let Xander feel the tremble in his fingers when he threaded them into Xander's hair. It tasted good. Better every time. Like sea, like fall, like fruit so ripe it would almost drop off the vine. Xander sucked and swirled his tongue, groaning low in his throat, trying to ignore the throbbing of his own cock below. Ask him which he loved best about this boy at his feet -- willing, hell, fucking wanting! -- and he wouldn't be able to answer: the feel of his mouth, rainforest hot and wet, sucking like this was the first bit of food he'd had in weeks and wanted to savor each burst of it; the sight of him, eyes half-closed, cheeks splashed with red as he held himself open and available; the scent of him, wanting, wanting so badly that Spike knew the boy would be coming when he did, no touch required; the sounds of him, gasping and choking, groaning, breathless as Spike stole his air, again and again, him loving it more each damned time. "Fuck," Spike said, because he didn't know how to say anything else. "Oh, fuck." There was no control. He couldn't hold himself back, make himself gentle as he rode into the boy's mouth over and over. There was only fucking, using the boy's oh so willing body to find pleasure they both could share in. Perfect little bottom boy, already trained. Should be wondering who the hell taught him this or if he's truly a natural. Hell, should be wondering why no one's snapped him up before. Not that anyone else would ever get that chance now. "Beautiful," he murmured, broken and breathless. "So fucking beautiful on your knees, boy. My pretty little bitch." It works, I knew it would. You want me to be like this, just to hold myself for you and not think that I have a choice or will or anything. I know it. I read it. One time ever that being research guy paid off -- I used to think the books were old and dusty and boring like math until late one night when we were looking up stuff about you, because you were new and you said those things to Buffy behind the Bronze and we had to know. I read about you, and about vampires and about how you were depraved and all vamp-instinct all the time. And then we looked up vamp instincts and it said this... it said other stuff too, about sires and crap like that, but I couldn't use that. I thought of it then, of how I could do this if you ever caught me, how I could stay alive until Buffy found me, and then one night I was jerking off and I thought of it and it hasn't been the same since, you haven't been the same since, never... Xander was trembling on his knees, hands clasped hard behind his back, his whole body shivering with need. He'd never thought, in all the time between that night of research and this moment, that Spike would ever be tender or gentle with him. When he'd thought of this moment, he'd been sure there would be pain, because Spike would have gotten the chip out and he was a vampire, for Christ's sake. But this... he never could have predicted. He was so close to coming, just from the feel of Spike's cock in his mouth, the burn of the carpet on his knees... he could feel the heat in the pit of his stomach, the breathless urge to just pull one of his hands around, just one, and finish it. His grip on his own fingers slackened, then loosed, and then his hands were hanging by his sides. Xander shivered, feeling them loose, like some shameful secret, if he could just manage without Spike noticing... Spike couldn't stop touching. Xander's cheeks, so hot they felt like raw flame against his fingers, his eyes and ears, twisted knots of hair, his jaw, rough with stubble, his neck working as Spike pushed in and out. Spike wanted him all, to take all of this giving little whore of a boy and bind him to Spike permanently. To eat him, devour every part of him. Palms flat over cheeks that flared and collapsed with every moment, Spike moved the boy's head, positioning it where he wanted. Look at me, he wanted to say but didn't. Come on, pretty, look at me, give it all. Give me every fucking molecule of you. And then, suddenly, Xander did. Eyes black in the shadows, wide and wanting, met his. "Yesss," Spike hissed, loving the ache he read there. "Gonna come in you, pretty. Gonna give you every bit of -- oh, fuck -- what you've been wanting. And when I do, you're gonna come, too, aren't you? Don't need a touch, not from me or you. Just need this taste, the feel of it filling you up, marking you inside and out. Ready, boy? Show me you're fucking ready." Xander closed his eyes for just a moment, almost in pain right there from the instruction not to touch. I don't know if I can, don't know if it'll work, please, Spike... When he opened his eyes again, when the blackness rolled back and he looked up the long, hard, pale body to see Spike's brilliant eyes burning down at him, intent and full of sex and need, Xander pled with his whole being, sucking as hard as he dared. God, please, please. The second I feel you coming, the moment I know I've done that, I can come, and I need to come so badly, Spike, please... His left hand dripped south, to curl around the boy's neck. He wasn't squeezing, he wasn't interested in that kink and didn't want to frighten his boy into thinking he was. He was just holding, cradling sweaty flesh in his cupped hand, thumb rubbing along a flexing tendon as he kept his eyes on the boy. Trust me, he thought, almost smirking at the flare of panic he saw. Trust me, boy. Gonna take care of you, pet. Gonna keep you as mine, make sure you never fucking want to leave. "Good boy," he purred. "That's my pretty boy." Working himself briefly harder, faster, Spike let his head fall back -- and came. Filled the boy's mouth with his spunk, crying out as the orgasm dragged knives through his gut, blinding him. At the very last moment he tugged free of the boy's sucking, swallowing mouth, pumping the last of it over swollen pink lips until it dripped down the boy's chin. "Mine," he growled. Xander exploded. The coppery, salt taste flooding his tongue, the twitch of Spike's cock against his lips and the roof of his mouth, the sound he made when he... Xander couldn't take it. His arms fell back, his fingers trailing on the carpet as his hips thrust up against empty air, and when Spike pulled back and marked him with the last of it, Xander's mouth opened wide as the force of the orgasm tore through him, shaking his body like a rag doll. He felt the hot liquid against his belly and chest, sharp against the cooler taste in his mouth, on his lips, jerking his mind in two directions at once. It was too much to handle, too much to take in all at once, the ecstasy ripping through him, softening him, and then a long, loud cry reached his ears just before he fell, knowing nothing, into darkness. Spike trailed his fingers over the boy's skin. He was still unconscious, now almost ten minutes afterwards. Poor boy. Gonna have to teach him better stamina. Though it was nice to see him slump like that, mouth slick-shiny from Spike's release, his body stained with his own pleasure. Spike had cleaned him up and laid him out on the bed, curling around that warmth, the soft skin overlaying surprisingly hard muscle. "Still there, boy?" he asked eventually. The heart rate was even, his breathing slow and steady, so Spike wasn't worried about damage. He was, however, bored. "C'mon back, boy, back to me now." "Mmm..." Xander turned his face toward the source of the low rumble, feeling a dreamy lassitude through his whole body. It felt... good. "'M here. Xander reporting for duty..." His voice was slurred, and he smiled, feeling silly. "Duty, hm?" Spike chuckled and leaned forward, drawing his tongue over Xander's cheek, tasting sweat-salty skin and his own distinct flavor. Mm. Two of us taste fucking fantastic together. "Come on, then. Open your eyes. Still sound a bit shell-shocked." "'M fine," he smiled, edging up closer to the sensation of cool slipping over his skin. He opened his eyes to shining blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. "Spike," he sighed happily, wrapping an arm over Spike's ribs. "I just came without actually touching myself. I know I'm a teenager, but, man, you oughta come with some kind of warning." That provoked a genuine laugh, lighter and freer than any since -- since before Dru got sick. Maybe even earlier. "Didn't think it could be done, yeah? Good thing you've got me to teach you, then, innit?" "Yeah," Xander grinned, leaning in to taste and be tasted. "I guess it is." Mm. Likes being touched this way. ‘S Good. Spike licked Xander's chin clean before spending a lot of time on full, soft lips that grew fuller as he licked and nipped them clean before allowing the boy to share in the taste. Xander kissed back eagerly, perfectly calm and compliant. They pulled apart slowly, gently. Xander looked up at his lover, resting his head on Spike's arm. He felt open, a little frightened. "Spike... what about the thing where you're evil? This can't be as simple as this, can it? Just... you stop doing evil things because I'm here, and then it's all okay?" He'd been hoping ... but my boy's not stupid, for all he sometimes forgets that. Right. Question and answer time, just a little later than when I wanted it. "Well, not doin' anything that evil now, am I?" he temporized. Patterns only Spike could see bloomed on Xander's skin, his fingers tracing them. "Other than debauching willing, beautiful boys that is." "No," Xander smiled, "but as you so vocally point out every time we get within sixty feet of you, you are evil. Kind of stands to reason, the doing of the evil." "Have I done anything evil since I've been back?" It shocked him, how quietly intense his words were. "Truly evil?" "Tried to kill Buffy when you had the Gem of Amarra.” Oh. Right. That. But Xander wasn't moving away, and his voice sounded amused, undercurrents of raspberry and toffee instead of the harsh disgust of bitter coffee dregs. "Well, besides that," he blustered, rolling slightly away so he could look at the ceiling. Much safer, there. "Since I've been ... chipped." Xander easily rolled with him, grinning now. "You've been "chipped" for about two weeks, Spike. So, no, nothing I know of." "Well, then, there you go. I'm two weeks safe, where's my bloody card or coin or whatever the hell it is." Xander sprawled across his chest, smiling down into his face. "Not that simple, my fanged friend. You should probably be aware that I will fight you a lot about this evil thing. Y'know, if you do evil. I might like the..." He blushed and paused, remembering. "... the things we do together... but that doesn't mean I'm just rolling over on this evil thing! Consider me un-rolled!" Spike stared. His eyes crossed, but he didn't stop staring at that silly grin beneath darkly serious eyes. "You're insane," he said matter-of-factly. "But the point is, I can't do anything more evil than ... than make faces at puppies or something. So we don't have to worry about it, do we?" It was a cop-out. They did have to worry, because Spike was going to find a way to get the god-sodding thing out of his head. And when he did, Xander would still be his, no change there. Except everything changes. And aren't we jumpin' the gun a mite quick here? He may get sick of me and want me staked by week’s end. Doubtful, given what he knew of one Xander Harris, but likely. As likely as him getting the chip out at week’s end. Spike didn't mention it, though. Instead he leaned up for the long, slow kisses he was starting to enjoy. Xander met Spike's mouth, unable to help himself. He was trying not to drown in the taste, in Spike's control and cool assurance, the feeling so good. "You... are going... to do evil... evil things... and I ... will not b... be putting up... with that." Spike bit the boy's lower lip hard enough to draw out a gasp and sizzle in his brain. "Well, then," he said silkily. "Just make sure I have to do those evil things to you and you alone." "Mmm... I mean, hey, ow!" Xander flicked his tongue out to soothe the sting at his lip, touched it with his finger. There was no blood, so Xander settled for pouting. "Watch it with those teeth, there, bitey." "You mean ow?" Spike teased. "Cute, pet. Very cute." "My body is dumb. I freely admit this." Xander levered himself up, sat down cross-legged on the bed and smiled at Spike, still touching his finger to the sore lip. "It doesn't know what's good for it. Sometimes it does the very, very stupid without my permission at all." Tucking his hands behind his head, Spike debated for roughly two seconds. Then he kicked -- lightly -- against the boy's hip. "You reassured, then?" Xander flashed a grin and then assumed a thoughtful face. "If, by that, you mean 'do I think you're going to take off as soon as we step outside,' then yes. If, on the other hand, you mean 'believe you unquestioningly', I think I'd really have to go with a no on that one..." Spike kicked again, slightly harder. "Berk. Not what I was asking, and you know it." Come on. Just say it, so we can move the fuck on from this. Xander ducked his head, smiling shyly. "Yeah, okay, I guess. I mean, I... you said you wanted to keep me, and if... if you do, then you probably want to not do things that'll make me leave. Not so, so bad things, I mean. I get that. Is... is that what you wanted?" Close the fucking ‘nough. Jackknifing up, Spike dived at the boy, tugging him onto the bed, onto his back. Kisses were pressed against his face -- eyes, cheekbones, nose, and then finally mouth. "Mine," he growled, knowing that so long as he was chipped -- at least that long -- 'mine' meant 'yours' just as much. Spike couldn't just take. Don't want to just take, never did. I'd much rather be given. Xander smiled fleetingly, too caught up in the rush of adrenaline and lust from Spike's swift moves. "Y'know," he said breathlessly, grinding up against the long body that held him, his toes curling in the sheets. "If we were ever gonna leave this hotel room..." "Mm. Should get some food for you." Spike's hand snaked over smooth skin, curling around a buttock to glance a finger in between. "Some lube ... " He stilled, loving the way lust and something Spike wasn't sure he could identify shone up at him. Affection. Like he's fond of me or ... Another kiss, this one oddly chaste compared to the Skinemax rated kisses Spike preferred. "Let's go." Xander grinned and stood, pulling his clothes on and tossing Spike's to him. He felt great. "Food, lube, good to go. I always knew you were a simple guy, I just didn't know how simple. Ooh, double edge there. See how that went?" Dressing, Spike timed it so that as the shirt settled over his boy's shoulders, Spike's hand connected with the back of Xander's head. "No puns," he ordered. "That's rule number -- er, four I think. Don't mind your shoddy excuse for humor, but there will be no puns." "Hey, I like the puns," Xander smiled, gathering up the few things they had left in the hotel and pocketing them as they headed for the door. "Let's just say you want to take me home, find that lube and then fuck me into next week. Then you'd be a vampire with a goal. Get it?" Spike glared, growling lightly under his breath. A greasy looking patron glanced over at them, blanched, and hurriedly turned back to his door when Spike really snarled at him. No car, but then it wasn't a bad night for a walk. The air felt crisp and clean, nothing like the normal California heat that usually enveloped the town. The sky was dark, spangled with stars, and free of cloud cover. He'd have to do something very nice for Willow, eventually. Maybe magic ingredients? Think I can get her some rare ones. Need to say 'thank you', like a good lad. Best spell she's ever botched. Spike looked up, watching the night sky, slipping an arm around the boy's waist as they walked. And then let his fingers go even lower. "Obviously," he said, "I'll need to start this training right away. I think I know just the method. How would you like to be strapped down on some cushions and spanked every time you make one of those god-awful puns, hm?" Xander drifted, smile unwavering as he fell into step beside Spike, easily, naturally. "Spanking involves your hand and my ass, right? Because I'm failing to see the bad here." Straps, even. Score. Spike squeezed Xander’s hip, smiling serenely as he stared out at the street. He carefully shaded his voice with the right amounts of authority and wickedness as he led Xander toward town, back to the Scoobies and the basement -- back to his new life. "Not yet you aren't." The End Olive You by Lady Cat Spike strokes his cock teasingly. "Baby," he calls, soft and low. "C'mere, baby‑boy. Come make Daddy feel good." Xander grins and comes over eagerly, practically wagging his nonexistent tail. He crouches between Spike's legs and looks up, waiting expectantly for instructions. "That's a good boy," Spike croons. He cards his fingers through his boy's thick, soft hair, knowing how much it pleases him. "Is my little boy hard for his Daddy? Did you remember to stretch yourself out for me, like Daddy's good slut?" Xander nods and smiles. He's a good boy. Eager. Always ready for Daddy. "That's my good boy. Such a sweet boy for his Daddy. Take me out, baby. I want you to touch me." Xander makes a sound that's a cross between a hum and a whimper. Completely happy with the task. He unbuttons the fly of Spike's tight black jeans. His eyes get bigger and shine when Spike's cock pops out into his hand. "You're so big and hard, Daddy," he says, as if he's never seen it before. Spike chuckles. "Can you lick it baby? Wrap your pretty pink lips around the head for me?" Daddy's good boy nods his head, licking his lips before he bends and sucks just the tip into his mouth. Spike can't see, but he knows how pretty those lips look around his cock. Xander whimpers happily at the first taste. "That's it. That's Daddy's good little bitch," Spike says lovingly. He caresses Xander's hair and jaw, before sliding his hands down enough to rub at the tense muscles in the back of Xander's neck. "Such a slutty little boy for me. That's right. Can you take more, baby? Take more of Daddy into your mouth?" Xander whimpers in agreement. He's Daddy's perfect whore, and Spike knows how much he loves it. Loves being used by his Daddy. Always wants Daddy, always needs Daddy to show him he's wanted and loved. He opens his mouth wider and leans forward, letting Spike's cock slide across his tongue, further and further into his mouth. "Oh, yeah. That's it, baby, so good for me. Daddy's gonna fuck your mouth now, little whore." His thumb comes up, rubbing right alongside Xander's Adam's apple, making him swallow involuntarily. "Let me in, baby. Good boy, that's it. Good boy." Spike edges deeper and deeper inside. He listens carefully to Xander's body, ready to stop the instant he hears choking—but he doesn't, so he slides in as deep as he'll go, fucking inside his sweet little whore's mouth. "Are you hard for me, baby? Does your cock tingle as you suck Daddy's?" Xander moans, deep and sweet and perfect. He's so good though, has his hands on Spike's knees and nowhere near his own cock. Spike smiles tenderly at Xander. "Daddy loves his boy so much, baby. Love you and never gonna let you go." He fucks his baby's mouth a few moments longer then gently pushes Xander off. "Take your clothes off, love." Xander looks a little sad that his Daddy won't be fucking his mouth any longer, but he obeys immediately, pulling his shirt off and stepping out of his baggy jeans quickly. Then he's standing in front of Spike with a pretty flush that makes his whole body glow pink and healthy looking. His cock is standing proud and thick, already red and leaking. Needing. Such a needy little boy Spike has. Spike lays down on the bed and gestures. "Come here, baby. Come sit on Daddy's lap." Xander grins—always so happy to do his Daddy's bidding—and does just as Spike says. Straddles Spike's lap and wiggles just a little. Spike knows he loves the feel of his Daddy's cock under him, brushing his balls, rubbing right there beneath them. "Good boy," he rumbles approvingly. Runs his hands all over his baby's smooth body. From chest to balls to hard, leaking cock. Then he brings his hands to his own mouth, sucking the first two fingers and thumb of each hand getting them wet. Then he rubs them against his boy's nipples. Slow, slow circles at first, with his thumbs, moving inward. Then he brings his other two fingers into play, tweaking and rolling them. "Like this, baby?" he asks wickedly. "Like Daddy playing with your little titties?" Xander nods his head fast. "Yes, Daddy. Feels so good Daddy." He squirms a little and slides up, rubbing his ass against the underside of Spike's cock. Spike groans, thrusting upwards against his boy's smooth, shaved bottom. "Say it, baby. I want you to say the words for me." He pinches down a little harder, knowing just how far to go. "Say how much you like Daddy playing with your titties, little boy." Xander blushes even deeper, stammering but still wiggling. So turned on, his cock is pulsing. "Love it when ... when you play with my ... my titties, Daddy. Please, harder? Harder, Daddy?" "Good little bitch," Spike croons, so soft and tender. He pinches down a little harder, tugging them away from Xander's body just a little. "Daddy's making you feel so good, isn't he? You'll have to make it up to Daddy." "Yes, Daddy. Fuck me, Daddy? Fuck your little bottom‑bitch so hard?" Xander's words are breathless as he squirms and whimpers and tries to figure out if he would rather pull away or push into Spike's touch. "Put me inside you, baby. Let me see how wet you are." Xander grins and reaches down, leaning up so he can get the angle just right. He inches down, just a little at a time, squeezing and taking Spike's cock inside so slowly it?s all Spike could do to keep from just grabbing him and slamming him down. But then he?s buried to the hilt, captured by the tight heat of Xander's body, and Xander's whole body trembles. Spike groans, panting. "So wet, baby," he gasps. "So tight. Just like a little girl, baby, wet and aching for me." Xander makes a noise that sounds high and sweet enough to be a girl's, and lifts himself up again, just to sink down again, just as tight and perfect as the first time. "Good bitch," Spike praises him, still working his little titties. "Ride Daddy's cock, baby, like the good little bottom‑whore you are. Do you like it? Like Daddy's cock inside you?" "Yes, Daddy, love you so big and thick inside me. Want you to fuck me so hard, want to be a good slut for you, Daddy," Xander says, riding harder and faster, sitting down hard on Spike's cock and taking it deeper. Fuck, it feels so good. His boy is riding him like a pro—which, Spike supposes, he is when it comes to Spike's cock. His hips start thrusting upward, fucking him but letting most of the thrust come from Xander. "Such a good slut for Daddy. Riding his cock like a prize pony." He re‑wets his fingers and pinches Xander's nipples hard. "I've got my reins, don't I baby? Gonna use your pretty titties for that." Xander whimpers at that, riding harder, faster. He's the perfect slut, so happy to have Spike's cock inside him. Any time of day, any position—as long as Spike is in him, filling him up, he wants it. Spike drops a hand to start rubbing his baby's cock. "Gonna come for me, little whore? Gonna squeeze Daddy so tight when you come all over his belly? Tell me, baby, do you think you deserve to come?" Xander shakes his head fast, no no no no no. "Don't deserve it, Daddy, don't even deserve this much," he says, riding harder. "Don't let me come yet, Daddy. Want to make you happy. Make you come. Please Daddy?" Spike growls, low and inhuman. "Whose are you, baby? Whose little come‑slut are you?" "Yours, Daddy, always yours," Xander answers immediately. "Your whore, your boy, Daddy." Spike starts fucking his boy harder. "That's right. My whore. My baby. My love." Each noun is accompanied by a punishing stroke into Xander's body. He angles it just slightly, still rubbing Xander's cock and pinching his nipple, smiling when he finds the perfect angle. Xander cries out, assaulted by sensation. His eyes go unseeing as he rides Spike, babbling, "Please, please, please ..." Or at least that's what it sounds like. "Oh, fuck," Spike gasps. "Fuck, Xander, I love—oh fuck!" His body is burning, fire uncurling from the base of his spine, filling his cock until it explodes into his boy's body, coming so hard sparks form in his eyes. Xander doesn't wait to be told, just comes as soon as Spike does, the sound of his Daddy's voice, the words, sending him over the edge. He comes all over Spike's hand, hot and perfect. Without removing himself from Xander's body, Spike rolls them so Xander's on the bed, covering his boy's mouth with deep, sweet kisses. "Good boy," he rumbles. "That's my good boy." Xander whimpers and kisses back, hungry for more, for more words and love and affection. "Daddy's good boy," he praises, moving slightly inside his body. "Love you, baby." The needy whimpers turn happy, and Xander nods and kisses more, gives all he has into it, all the gratitude and love he can. "Love you, Spike," he says, his soft, sated voice music to Spike's ears. "Sleepy, baby," Spike whispers. The cruel taunts vanish, and it's just Spike and Xander again, cuddling close in their big bed. "You've got work tomorrow, don't you?" "Yeah. Got to be in early, too," Xander murmurs. The smile on his face is beautiful. "Training a new kid. Can't let Reggie do it, he might scare the kid half to death with those stupid knock knock jokes of his. It's a little disconcerting to hear fourth grade humor coming out of a forty year old." Spike chuckles. "Knock, knock," he teases. Xander grins and cuddles closer. "Who's there?" "Well, I could be sappy and say 'Olive' but that wouldn't be very Big Badish of me," Spike says, kissing Xander's forehead. "Well, I could be sappy and say Olive but that wouldn't be very Big Badish of me, who?" Xander says, barely containing his laughter. "Shut up and go to sleep, boy." The End

btvs.aplacecalledhome
Search: The Web Tripod Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » Select Rating share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook Chapters 1 2 3 4 >>>> Rating: R schmoop rating: very high Summary: xander has a crush. which leads to redecoration. Disclaimer: characters and sunnydale do not belong to us. Notes: thanks to fox1013 for looking this over Notes 2: We don't know when this is set. Just imagine that Mission: Impossible, Eyes Wide Shut, Office Space, etc. are all out and known at whatever time this is set. Just go with it, mmkay? Also, give a hand for the glorious beta stylings of entrenous88 A Place Called Home by Xanphibian and Lady Cat Part One Xander was shopping. Well, window shopping. He walked past the paint aisle twice before giving in and looking at all the little colored strips of paper in their holders. He looked, and dreamed. He'd driven past The House again that day, the cozy little cottage fixer-upper he'd been stalking for the past few months, and now looking at the paint samples, he was mentally painting every room in the house. He shouldn't, it was just a hopeless little pipe-dream, but he was getting pretty good at wishing for things he couldn't have. He sighed and moved on. He really wanted to do something nice for Spike. Not to show him he cared or anything, because he was really trying to avoid that. Just something to make the vampire smile. Even if Xander didn't actually see the smile, knowing he'd done something to make Spike happy was enough. So. Something for Spike. Xander looked at the electric blankets, and wondered if one of those would work. He didn't want to set Spike on fire accidentally, but didn't that only happen with bed wetters? So he'd risk getting the blanket, because he knew that even though Spike acted like he didn't feel the cold, he really did. Xander could tell the way he leaned into heat, the way he wore his coat all the time, and the way he nearly purred when the clothes were fresh out of the dryer and he could put them on when they were still warm. Xander knew that he was way too concerned about Spike. Concerned? Xander turned the word over in his mind, then discarded it. 'Obsessed' was probably a better adjective. Totally over the moon would be the most accurate still, but Xander wasn't going there. He'd convinced himself months ago that friendship was all he could want or expect and that was really okay. He liked Spike. That was all that mattered and maybe, just maybe, Spike liked him back? He looked again at the electric blanket, considering. Yeah. This was nice. Except that brought up the problem of electricity. Xander knew that Spike had jury-rigged something into the crypt for the tv and little fridge he kept there, but he knew how crappy it was. Would it be able to sustain another drain? Xander fondled the soft, silkiness of the electric blanket he was looking at -- dark red, almost blood-red -- and thought about the generators he had seen on sale the day before. He could get one of those, wait until Spike was away from the crypt and quickly set it up. That wasn't too obvious, was it? Yeah. Maybe the generator was going a bit too far. Plus, the time it would take him to set it all up and get it going was more time for him to get caught. And that would mean explaining to Spike just why the heck he was doing it. He could always keep the blanket at his place and then the next time Spike stayed over, he'd have it ... No. That was just wishful thinking. Spike probably wouldn't be crashing on the couch again any time soon, unless Xander thought of a damn good reason to entice Spike to stay. And there weren't many reasons for that. But ... BUT! He could maybe, possibly, think of an excuse of having to stay with Spike! He could bring some creature comforts along with him, including a generator? Maybe some rugs for the floor, a lamp or two, DVD player, a lot of beer? Xander briefly considered the possibility that he was going a little overboard. Then dismissed those thoughts. Staying with Spike? Yeah, that might work. Maybe if he said his place was being fumigated. Maybe Xander's apartment was suddenly a Mecca for mutant rodents? Yeah, he could do this. Get the generator and the rest of the stuff, go breezing into the crypt saying that Spike better have some kind of easy plumbing, because he was there for two days and he wasn't going to stink the whole time. That would keep Spike flustered and defensive, and give Xander time to work. Pleased with his plan, Xander picked up the blanket and dumped it into his cart. Blanket, check. Electronics now, plus lots and lots of cords. Or should he just buy that at the hardware store? He checked the prices and decided it didn't matter, so he bought them here. Plus a DVD player and a converter box. And a few DVD's. And a lamp. A few rugs, and some more odds and ends, and his total was well over the hundred dollars he'd originally planned to spend. He didn't care. He was going to do this! He'd be able to give Spike all these things and Spike wouldn't be able to say 'no', because Xander would let him steal the stuff! The best way to get Spike to want something was to say he couldn't have it -- just like a little kid, except little kids didn't steal with the adeptness that Spike did. But that was okay. So he was Xander, the walking Spike Store, and his doors were all open. And okay, that was the stupidest analogy, but Xander didn't care. He was gonna do it! It took him two trips, but he finally got everything to the crypt that he needed. Taking a look around, he went back out and bought a broom, a mop, and some cleaning supplies. Nothing too strong smelling, he didn't want to overwhelm Spike's acute senses, but some nice soap and water would do the place good. Grateful for the muscle and stamina he'd built by working construction, Xander set to work. It only took him an hour to go over the floors and walls the first time, and then thirty minutes on the second go round. The crypt didn't exactly sparkle, but the cobwebs and piles of dust and dirt were gone. He called Buffy's cell phone and was informed that Spike had been sent to Willie's on a fact finding mission. That left enough time to leave, grab a shower and get cleaned up, and return before Spike got back. Then he could do the rest. He showered and then hurried back to the crypt with a few changes of clothing to make the whole thing seem more real. The crypt was still empty when he got there, so he started working on the generator outside. That's where Spike found him, tweaking the final settings forty five minutes later. "The hell you think you're doing?" The words were angry, the tone more confused then upset. Xander hid a grin, pretending to concentrate on the finishing. "What's it look like? No way am I going two days without my DVDs, Spike." Spike blinked at him. Tilted his head like a confused puppy. It was adorable. "What the hell?" Xander ducked his head again to hide his smile and finished. "You want to help me here? I'll start this up and you go inside and see if the television works." "I know the bloody television works, I stole the electricity myself," Spike said. "Well, I rearranged a few wires." "Rearranged a few -- what the bloody hell did you do to my crypt!" So saying, Spike stomped off into said crypt, muttering about ignorant, meddling Scoobies. The silence that followed was sweet. Tying off the last wire, Xander rose and entered the crypt. It really did look better. Clean, or at least relatively clean, with a few rugs for comfort and warmth. Maybe some wall-hangings later? The TV was on, and Spike was staring at the blue 'please insert DVD' lettering. The refrigerator hummed -- a lot less noisy after Xander had worked on it for a little -- and he knew it was stocked with food for him, blood for Spike, and lots of beer for them both. "What." Spike wasn't asking, but Xander decided to treat it that way. Forcing himself to be totally casual and slightly annoyed, he shrugged. "My place is getting fumigated. Cockroaches the size of your head. The girls can't put me up, they don't have the room, so I figure I'll bunk here for a few days. Live the life of the manly and deprived." "So you turned into Martha bloody Stewart?" Spike walked around the crypt slowly. "Did you get to the downstairs, too?" "You're objecting to a little spic'n'span?" With a shrug of dismissal, Xander sat on the (much cleaner) sofa and picked up the remote. He'd had to do a lot of guessing and rigging to get cable here, and it wouldn't last long, and then he'd had to go and buy another remote, but it was so -- repeat, so -- worth it from the look of shock on Spike's face when Xander switched it to Iron Chef. Today was okra. Disgusting, but it gave him something to focus on when Spike went downstairs. He hadn't done much there -- cleaned a lot, but otherwise he'd just added blankets and his own inflatable mattress. He'd figured sharing a bed would be pushing it. When Spike finally climbed back up, Xander said casually, almost distractedly, "Hey, can you get me a beer? And what are they -- ew, don't tell me what they're doing to that." He watched Spike out of the corner of his eye. This was just too good. Something to savor. Spike was walking in kind of a dazed way, and when he opened the refrigerator, he didn't say a word. Just grabbed a beer and brought it over. Then he sat down next to Xander in stunned silence, just kind of staring at him. Taking his eyes away from the television, like it was some reluctant chore to look at Spike (ha! as if), Xander asked, "You okay? You're looking a little paler than usual." Spike didn't answer. Spike not answering was kind of unnerving, but Xander just turned his attention back to the TV. Well, he tried to, and managed it for a good five minutes before, "What!" "I didn't say anything." "You were staring. It's annoying when you stare." Liarliarliar, but it was nerve-wracking. "You think you're living here. For two days." Xander shrugged a third time. "Could be a little longer. And I don't think I'm living here. I know I am." Batting his eyes and turning a patently false smile on Spike, he added, "Roomie." Spike snorted. A flicker of a grin was in his eyes, though, and Xander relaxed happily back onto the cushions. "And all this was, what, soften the schmuck up before you invade?" "Are you kidding?" Xander asked with a grin. "I just had to make this place habitable. You live like a ... a ..." "Vampire?" Spike asked, amused. "Hey, just because you're a man of the undead variety doesn't mean you should let everything just go. Nice in here, isn't it? Warm lighting, cozy rugs under the feet, throw pillows and blankets ..." he said, dragging a fuzzy chenille throw over his lap to make the point. "Is kinda cold in here," Spike admitted grudgingly. Really grudgingly, Xander knew, given the way he unconsciously shivered. Poor little Spikey, he thought and started "rearranging" the throw so it covered him *and* Spike. It was a measure of the vampire's discomfort that he didn't immediately shove it off. "Hence the Martha Stewart kick." Xander thought about mentioning that everything was coming back with him -- even though it wasn't -- then decided, nah. If he did that, he'd just make Spike feel bad, and since the point of this was to make Spike feel *good* ... He didn't comment when Spike rose and got himself a beer. At least, what he thought was a beer. "Woodpecker? What the hell do you know about British cider?" "You might have mentioned it, maybe? Dunno, just thought I'd pick it up on a whim. Is it any good?" Xander said nonchalantly. No way he was telling Spike about all the grilling poor Giles took as Xander made himself more Brit-smart. "Didn't even think you could buy these here." Abruptly, Spike's eyes narrowed. Xander made sure he was not looking, because the only place you could get import liquor was a small shop near the edge of town. One that charged an arm and a leg -- sometimes literally -- since they were an ex-patriot's oasis in an Bud Lite desert. So Xander had spent way too much money already. He figured he'd spend more, he could afford it, and hey, he was enjoying himself doing it. Besides, Spike looking confused and suspicious was adorable. Twisting the not-twistable cap right off, Spike sipped cautiously. "Nice stuff." It was the Spike-version of a 'yeah, woohoo!'. "Hey now, we gonna watch Iron Chef all bloody evening? Not near enough violence." Xander bit the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning. "Can't exactly call and order pay-per-view unless we want a nice visit from the cable police, but I picked up a few DVDs today that I haven't seen." He pointed to the stack on top of the television. "Maybe there's something there you'd like." Spike sneered at him, which was Spike for 'I'm trying to be Big and Bad but actually really grateful you're doing all of this'. Or so he told himself. After pawing through the choices for a little, Spike came back with Fight Club. "Got good taste, pet." There were several responses going through Xander's head. 'I have excellent taste ... especially in gay vampire sex&snuggle fantasies' or 'why don't you come over here and see how good I taste?' but both of those statements would lead to nothing but badness and utter humiliation. So Xander just nodded and handed Spike the DVD remote. Might as well give him some semblance of control in his own home. Halfway through the movie, Xander'd had several beers and was enjoying a nice, soothing buzz. He was practically cuddled next to Spike, and his feelings were just as fuzzy as the blanket they were sharing. He was really trying to stay cool and casual, but this was like every little happy little domestic dream he'd ever had. After Fight Club, Xander tried not to pout while Spike retrieved blood and a few more beers from the fridge and put on another movie. He was just tipsy enough not to recognize the movie, or care. Because Spike sat back down in the same place he'd left. And he didn't object when Xander yawned, creaked, and leaned a little more heavily against him. "Human blood," Spike commented slowly. "Must've really wanted to make a good impression, then." "Better for you," Xander said drowsily. "And you're starting to get a little too skinny." Spike's body shifted a little, allowing Xander's head to fall almost on his shoulder. Okay, more like his chest, and it was hurting Xander's neck a little, but Spike's arm was resting on his side. There was no way he was moving. Plus, he was too tired. Spike's voice vibrated through the places they touched. "And that bothers you, doesn't it." It wasn't a question. "Shouldn't see the Big Bad's ribs," Xander mumbled. Turned his face the tiniest fraction of an inch to slowly, secretly breathe in Spike's scent. Shoulder's twitched underneath his weight. "Big and bad. Yeah." His hand started moving on Xander's body. Slow, careful touches. Like petting, or stroking, or something equally subconscious -- and probably Dru-like in origin. Xander didn't care, concentrating on maintaining his relaxed breathing. After a few moments he didn't have to concentrate anymore -- the pleasure of being touched and petted mixed nicely with the fuzziness of the beer. "Mmm." "Think you need tucking in, pet," Spike said. "Gets cold up here. Come on, I got a little space heater downstairs." Xander did not want to move from where he was, but he got up reluctantly anyway and followed Spike down the ladder. Slipped once in his relaxed state, but Spike was there to catch him and half carry him the rest of the way, so it didn't really matter. It was really nice to let Spike carry most of his weight. Along with the touching Spike parts, being shown that a guy a little shorter and a little smaller was so much stronger then him was ... nice. He liked it. "Mattress," he mumbled into Spike shirt. "I know, I see it." Xander was tipped backward, landing gently on the inflatable mattress next to Spike's bed. "Here we are, lie down now. Been a busy little bee, turning my crypt upside down, haven't you." Xander smiled without opening his eyes. "You like it?" Cool fingers pushed hair away from his face. "Go to sleep, Xander. I'll ... I'll try an' be quiet so not to disturb you." With that totally unexpected, and differently accented goodbye, Spike vanished back upstairs. Part Two Xander woke slowly. There was a crick in his neck, but he felt really rested. Comfortable. Mmm. Stretching leisurely, Xander yawned, sat up, and blinked. Spike was stretched out on his bed, underneath the electric blanket. That was plugged in. Oh, yeah. Xander ruled. Grinning foolishly, since Spike-the-dead-body wouldn't see it, Xander did a mini-Snoopy dance and then headed towards the little bathroom area Spike had rigged up. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, and thought about what he could do while Spike slept. He'd really like to do more to the crypt -- clean up all the melted wax from Spike's candles, for one. But that didn't really benefit Spike, per se, more like just pleased Xander's sense of personal style. Splashing water over his body in lieu of a shower, Xander pulled on fresh clothes and went back to the 'bedroom'. Spike was still sprawled over the bed, cozily tucked under the electric blanket. The wine-dark red suited him. He looked ... calm, underneath all that heat. Satisfied. Sated. Shaking his head, Xander went upstairs and ate a breakfast bar. He didn't really have anything he needed to do today, and it was late enough that Spike might wake up soon -- which meant trying to plaster the walls, which his internal carpenter was screaming about, was out. So he settled for relaxing on the couch and flicking through the channels a bit. He'd just started getting interested in the commentators' back-and-forth dialogue -- hey, he could keep up with the news ... um, sometimes -- when Spike shuffled up the ladder. Xander hadn't known it was possible to shuffle while climbing a ladder. Or that Spike would have eyes half closed. Body totally relaxed. And bed head. Totally oblivious to the way Xander stared at him, Spike stumbled over to the refrigerator and pulled out a packet of blood. He stared at it, eyes narrow in contemplation, until he blinked and looked around the crypt. He made a guttural noise as his eyes landed on Xander, sitting on his newly cleaned sofa. "Still here." Xander hid his 'aww, that's so cute!' face and nodded. "Told you two days. You slept sound, but not that sound." "No. Just thought ... " Brows coming down in a way that threatened to force Xander's 'awww' out loud, Spike shook his head and started heating the blood. Xander's stomach rumbled and he remembered the electric skillet and toaster he'd brought. Mmm, eggs and toast sounded pretty good. Xander came over and plugged the skillet in. He tried to ignore Spike watching him while he cracked eggs and started preparing his own breakfast. "So? Big plans for ... " he checked his watch " ... the rest of this Saturday afternoon? And why are you up now?" "Wasn't ... That is, I thought I'd go on down to Willie's, catch a poker game." He so obviously hadn't been planning anything of the sort. Xander was suddenly reminded of himself when he was trying not to look like a loser. "Why, you got any ideas?" "A poker game at four thirty on a Saturday?" Xander gave Spike a skeptical look, but left it at that. He didn't want to rile up the already nervous vampire. "No, not at four thirty," Spike blustered, rubbing his face and hair. It messed the curls up even further, making them so much cuter. Xander was pretty sure he was going to die of hypoglycemia. Then Spike was going to kill himself, once he learned that it wasn't overwhelming evilness that had finished Xander off. "Oi, lemme have some of that." Spike snagged a piece of toast and started dunking it. Xander made the expected 'bleugh' face, even though the blood thing didn't even bother him anymore. And stealing someone's food -- that was practically flirting, right? Maybe even foreplay, if he looked at it from a certain angle. In the right light. Like, the light of the blue moon. "I was going to go by the Bronze, shoot a little pool. Maybe catch a movie later. If you aren't doing anything, I guess you could come," Xander said. Please say yes, please say yes. "You guess, huh?" A glimmer of amusement made Xander flush and duck his head. Spike couldn't look at him like that. First there was the whole Spike actually hating him thing. Then there was the ohmigodcan'tbreathewhenhedoesthat thing. The latter was more physically pressing, but the former ... "No skin off your nose or money from your wallet, is that it?" "Right," Xander agreed nervously. "I mean, I'll pay for the pool table, since I'd be spending that anyway. And you can just sneak into the movie." He made a quick note to just pay for Spike's ticket while he was 'sneaking in'. Spike stared at him for a moment. "You're a weird kid, anybody ever tell you that?" Tossing back the rest of his blood, he disappeared downstairs and soon Xander heard the sound of Spike's makeshift plumbing being operated. Oh yeah, that was another thing he had to fix. Hmmmm. Maybe he could do that now? Movies weren't till later, anyway, and all Spike needed was a shower-head and Xander was pretty sure he knew enough to get the rest of plumbing done without help ... He almost left a note, but then he stopped himself. Spike wouldn't care one way or the other if Xander was gone when he got back, so Xander just left. *** Showerhead? Check. Nothing fancy, just a nice, adjustable fixture that looked nice, too. Xander wandered the aisles of Ralph's Discount Hardware Emporium and picked up everything he needed. And then ... then he saw something that made him just stop in his tracks. Water heaters. On sale. Okay, that 'sale' price was a little steep, but it was a tankless unit, and easy to install, and ... and Spike probably hated the cold water he was stuck with. Xander did some quick mathematics in his head. He'd have to give up cable at his own apartment for a month, or beer, or something but ... chuckling, he shook his head. Like he wasn't going to do this? Everything bought and paid for, Xander headed back towards the crypt. It was still daylight, so he was careful to minimize the sunlight exposure as he opened the front door. Spike glanced up from the TV, pausing his movie. "Where'd you run off to?" "Here, you carry this down the ladder. It looks in okay shape, right?" Knowing he wasn't answering anything, Xander grabbed the rest of his stuff and made sure he closed to door tightly behind him. Spike was staring at the water heater with narrowed eyes. Flicking a glance towards Xander was more pointed then any of the "what the bloody hell is this" responses Xander had expected. "Well, I'm not going to take cold showers!" Xander said defensively. "So you went out and bought a water heater?" Spike's voice rose incredulously. "No, I didn't just go out and buy a water heater. I know a guy at the hardware store. This one ... fell off the truck, kinda." A dark eyebrow rose precipitously. "Right. And you're gonna install this one, too?" "No, you're going to install this one. I know you know a lot about plumbing, and I don't. So carry that downstairs, I'll get the rest of the stuff, and we can have hot showers before we leave tonight. Um. If you're coming with me." Spike didn't answer the question that wasn't really a question, just gave Xander another look -- this one, Xander couldn't figure out, even though he thought he might be an expert on Spike looks -- and headed down the ladder with the water heater. Grateful that Spike hadn't made more of a fuss, Xander followed. Setting everything up was surprisingly easy. Spike really did know a lot about plumbing, rifling through Xander's purchasing with nary a word. There was a lot of eyebrow raising, though. Xander helped when he knew what to do or when Spike told him to do something, staying mostly out of the way. Because watching Spike twist and turn and flex those muscles in his tight black tee and tighter black jeans with the top button undone? Momma. "Gimme that tension rod," Spike said eventually. Xander passed it over, as well as the plastic curtain he'd bought to get threaded through it. Black "Black?" Spike questioned. "It ... was the least see-through of the store's selection." "Right." Spike was giving him really odd looks. "Well, since it was your friend that 'found' this, you wanna take the first one?" Xander shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. You go ahead if you want." Busying himself with cleaning up and muttering about finding a movie in the paper he'd picked up, Xander covertly watched Spike's reaction. Surprise. Suspicion. Disgruntlement. More suspicion. And then a longing that told him he'd been right. Spike wanted this, the hot water, the chance to get totally clean. He wanted it badly. Xander held the happiness close to himself as he climbed the ladder, waiting until he heard the new shower fixtures twist and the water start before letting out a whoop and allowing himself to grin the way he'd been wanting to all afternoon. Just knowing that Spike was getting something he really wanted -- hell, needed -- made Xander happy. Incredibly, wonderfully, amazingly and hugely happy. The shower ran for a really, really long time. Xander wasn't worried about taking a cold shower -- the tankless unit had pretty much instantaneous electric heating. The generator was probably drinking up fuel like it was nothing, though. And then the singing started. It wasn't good signing. Or very loud. Xander recognized it as something punk and probably tuneless in origin. It was also coming from Spike. Xander grinned even more broadly and sat down beside the ladder hole, cocking his head down to hear better. He knew he had it bad before this, but here was the irrefutable proof. He was straining his ears to hear Spike's bad shower-singing. Three songs later, the water was turned off. Xander scurried back to the sofa as a clean and smirking Spike came upstairs. He didn't say anything about the shower. Just heated a mug of blood and started fussing with his still-wet hair. The almost golden-colored curls needed to be gelled. Xander enjoyed the rare opportunity to see Spike free of product -- and reminded himself not to let Spike see him looking like such an utter sap. "Well?" Spike asked when Xander made no move to head downstairs. "C'mon, hurry up. Gotta get you dressed in something respectable before we go." Xander hid his grin. So they were going. And Spike wanted to dress him? What? There was a sudden flash of fantasy: Spike dressing Xander in leather pants and an unbuttoned silk shirt ... maybe oiling his chest first, pale, strong fingers working over his skin, skimming his nipples .. silver choke chain he'd use to lead Xander over to the bed, just one finger hooked through the largest loop ... Xander swallowed. Yeah, like that would be happening. "Sure, I'll uh ... go down right now," he said, moving quickly so Spike couldn't see the so very hard erection tenting Xander's khakis. The shower was good. The heater worked well, but Xander soon turned the hot water down to rid himself of the erection. Finished, he found clothes laid out on Spike's bed. "Put those on," Spike's voice called down to him. "No bloody arguments." Like he was going to argue. The jeans were his own, and he must have brought them over by mistake because they were just this side of too tight. The shirt was definitely Spike's: a red silk button down, the kind Spike used to never be without. "Hurry up!" Spike called while Xander stared at the shirt and tried not to tremble. "S'just clothes, pet, put 'em on." Xander flushed and dropped the towel. Without Spike downstairs to see him, he let himself have the momentary thrill of being naked in Spike's bedroom. He grinned to himself. His skin was just damp enough to make the tight jeans difficult to get on, but once they were on, they clung to his skin in a way that felt good. The shirt was cool and luxurious and only a little too short in the arms. He flipped the cuffs up to make it look less obvious. Way too tight in the neck, but Xander solved that by leaving the first two buttons opened. He hoped he looked rakish and not idiotic, but the lack of mirrors offered no help. "Will you get a bloody -- oh." Spike dropped onto the floor next to him, roughly pushing his body this way and that. "Not bad. Better than the banana boat. I'm sure you'd throw a very straight, manly man hissy fit if I suggested eyeliner? You've got such pretty ones." While Xander boggled at that, Spike messed around with his hair and then disappeared back to the first floor. "C'mon, don't wanna miss the flick you picked out. I like previews." Right. They had a date! Okay, not really a date. But Xander could pretend. Even though Spike thought he was 'very straight'. He wondered if he should correct the misconception or if he should just ignore it? Nah, probably shouldn't say anything. It might make things weird, and then Spike would get the wrong idea -- or the right idea, but he'd probably take it badly -- and then this little slice of Spike-heaven would be gone. Xander had about twenty-four hours left of quality Spike time before he had to leave, and he didn't want to ruin it. Xander followed quickly and they both headed to the car. Ten minutes later, Xander was parking by the movie theater. "You're gonna sneak in, right?" Spike gave him a scornful look. "Not the first time I've snuck into the cinema, pet. Just get me popcorn and some of those Snowcap thingies." "Popcorn and Snowcaps, check." Buying a ticket for an absent Spike was easier then he'd thought. The ticket-taker didn't care and he had the stubs if there were any problems. Not that there were. Arms laden with goodies, Xander found Spike in the back row, feet in the chair in front of him. "So what're we seeing?" "One of those weird new movies Tom Cruise is doin'," Spike whispered back, then jabbed him when he tried to ask which one. A while into the movie and Xander was confused. And more then a little disturbed. "What is this?" he hissed. "You're the one that circled it on the bloody paper," Spike answered back. "What? No, I didn't!" He tried to think back to what he'd chosen as 'things he wanted to see'. Had he? Maybe he had. Because Tom Cruise usually meant stupid movies like Mission: Impossible, not freaky kinky shit that was hard to watch. "Just. Watch." "What's with the masks? Are they just gonna do that with ..." Xander trailed off and stared. "Huh. Guess they are." He stayed quiet a little longer, then gave up. The movie was too confusing. Spike, however, seem to really like it, so ... Xander started watching Spike. Oh, he tried to be slick about it. Watching from the corner of his eye, tensed to look away if Spike noticed. But Spike didn't turn. He was watching the screen with what looked like seriously concentration. The corners of his mouth were turned down fiercely when he wasn't laughing, and -- most surprising -- he was silent. Spike was rarely silent when watching movies. Or maybe that was only with movies he didn't know? Xander tried to remember if he'd shown Spike any movies he knew the vampire hadn't seen before. "I know I'm pretty, pet, but the flick isn't that bad," Spike said quietly. Xander gulped audibly and stared at the screen until the credits rolled. They were quiet as they headed back to the car. The silence was starting to make Xander kind of crazy. "So what was that?" he blurted. "The movie, I mean." Spike shrugged. "Pretty good job of getting at how intense things can get when a bloke's jealous. The way the imagination can run away with you, the way it can all make you crazy." Spike thought a few seconds more and added, "If Kubrick hadn't have kicked it, I'd think he was a vampire. Thought like a vampire, that's for sure. All raw and dirty. Getting to the meat. Love and obsession and all that." He must have remembered who he was talking to suddenly, because he lost the thoughtful expression and smirked. "You up for the Bronze? Been looking forward to taking your dosh in a bit of 9-ball." Xander blinked as Spike pared the movie down into something he could understand. He knew Spike wasn't stupid -- but seeing how stupid he really wasn't was ... different. Nice. Okay, it made Xander feel really stupid, but he was used to that. "Bronze it is," he said, happy to change the topic. Once there, the music was loud and the beer was nice and cold. Girls looked interested, but Spike managed to somehow smile and then ignore them. One girl actually started talking to Xander at the bar, but he smiled and just said he was there with someone. He let himself believe that for a minute, even, that he was there with Spike. He wanted to grab the vampire and drag him out onto the dance floor, bump and grind against him, lick his neck and promise him all kinds of things he'd have no trouble delivering. But he didn't. Spike won four games before Xander paid attention, and then won three more after Xander actually started to try to win. Xander was having the best night of his life. "Refill," Spike commented at one point. He disappeared before Xander could reach for his wallet. Okay, weird, but he came back bearing beers, wings, and a tale about how the waitress at the bar had been so enamored with Spike's appearance that she made mistake after mistake. Chuckling, Xander leaned against his cue stick and watched the way Spike bent over the table to line up his shot. God, what a position ... Spike turned and gave him a look. "Nice view, pet?" He was joking. He had to be joking. "Yeah, Spike. I'm over here, drooling over the hotness that is your ass," Xander said sarcastically. "Would you just take the damn shot?" Spike grinned and sank the five, but his shape was shit. "Fuck." "Fucked yourself over there, huh?" Xander teased. Spike missed the six completely. "I think that's ... ball in hand," Xander said with a grin, grabbing the cue ball and setting up a sweet shot. He hit the six and banked the nine into the corner pocket. "Hmm. Looks like I won." "Smartass." Xander executed a half-bow, grinning madly. "It's a sweet one, too. Your rack." And why the hell had he said that? Hastily, gulped his beer while Spike retrieved all the balls. Xander broke and sunk two balls, but then scratched on the two. Spike looked insanely cocky as he took his shot, but then missed the pocket by about a half-centimeter. "Ouch," Xander said without sympathy. "You keep this up, I'm gonna break even." Spike shot him a filthy look and proceeded to sink every ball -- and then scratched on the eight. Xander whooped and quickly sunk the eight and nine, then gave Spike his cheekiest expression. "I think it's your rack again, champ." Spike was so damn hot when he was glowery. "You're cheating," Spike accused when he lost another game. Wha-huh? Outraged, Xander made the most wounded expression his almost-drunk allowed. "I am not! And hey, not like you don't cheat. You cheat all the time! I guess I just cheat better then you do!" Spike half-sat on the table, cue behind him as he lined up a complicated shot. "Oh yeah?" he challenged, amused. "Thought you didn't cheat at all, goody-goody. So how're you cheating better?" "Well, if I'm cheating, and you're cheating, but I'm winning, then I guess I'm cheating better, huh?" Xander said. Then he stuck out his tongue for good measure. Spike laughed outright. "Whatever you say, Harris." He proceeded to kick Xander's tail in the next game. "Had enough?" he taunted. "Or do you want to 'cheat' some more?" "That's it, Spike. You're going down," Xander said, racking the balls quickly. "That right?" Spike asked with a smirk. There was something there Xander didn't catch, he was sure of it, but he was intent on ... something. Proving something. Or maybe just getting Spike to laugh again, even if it was at Xander's expense. "That's right. Just you watch me," Xander said. He stood back and let Spike take his turn, then stepped up when nothing fell on the break. It was close, but Xander won the game. "I think I've proven my point," Xander said, draining his mug and putting the stick back on the wall. "Time to go home?" "Yeah. Here, gimme your keys." "What, you're the designated driver now?" Xander asked with a smile, but he handed the keys over without a fight. "The amount of beers you've had? Yeah." Spike was oddly attentive as they headed outside. He kept close to Xander, steadying him whenever the ground moved or things jumped in front of him. "In you go." It was nice, for a minute, to imagine Spike taking care of him, Spike watching out for him. Sliding into the seat next to him and buckling the belt for him. "Hey. Don't fall asleep yet, pet." Cool fingers lifted his head up. "Don't fancy carrying you back to the crypt." "You could," Xander said rebelliously. "Hush, pet. Know I could, just don't particularly want to." "Oh. How come?" Spike started driving, the deep thrum of the engine making his body vibrate. "Because if you're drunk enough to pass out, you're drunk enough to puke." Xander straightened up. "I'm not that drunk. I'm not passing out, and I'm not puking. Geez. I'm in the happy netherworld between tipsy and shit-faced. It's a nice spot, and I hope to stay here for as long as I can." Spike chuckled and drove. Not nearly as dangerously as Xander feared. Back home -- the crypt, not home -- Spike slipped an arm around Xander's waist when Xander pretended to trip on a broken headstone, then walked them both inside. Gently sitting him down on the sofa, Spike knelt and removed his shoes. "You want to hit shit-faced, or do I give you one of the water bottles you brought?" Xander smiled up at Spike. He looked so nice and ... nice when he was helping. Now, if he was shit-faced, he might have said that out loud, and he was smart enough to know that wasn't such a great thing. "Water's good. Don't feel like spilling all my secrets and then passing out in a puddle." Light touch to his hair and Xander blinked, not knowing if he imagined that or not. "Got a lot of secrets, pet?" Spike didn't look like he was fishing. Mostly he looked like he was amused. Xander smiled back. "No," he lied. "Why would I have secrets?" Spike's smile widened. "Naughty, pet. Asked if you have many, not if you had any at all." Rising gracefully, Spike retrieved dinner for him and water for Xander. Watching Spike eat reminded Xander that his dinner had been popcorn, candy, and various fried foods at the Bronze. Standing, he managed about three steps towards the fridge before he stumbled and -- whoa! Spike had good reflexes, catching him a foot before he hit the ground. "Xander! What the hell're you doing!" "Um, hungry?" Xander said sheepishly. He leaned back a little against Spike. Just for a second. Just ... gah. So good. Right there in his arms. He swallowed and tried to right himself. "Sorry, guess I'm a little drunker than I thought." Spike stepped forward with him, crook of his arm still cradling Xander's neck. "Yeah. Back you go. Just sit and sip that and I'll fix you something." He made a face at Xander's expression. "Not gonna be gourmet, but I can handle a bloody sandwich!" "Don't like blood on my sandwich!" Xander said petulantly. A blanket was tangled around him, effectively trapping him to the sofa. "That'd be gross!" Spike chuckled. "S'why I'm not making one for you. Hold tight." Xander held the pillow and then -- hey, a cheese sandwich! Xander was acutely aware of how the alcohol was affecting him tonight. No hot, sexy Xander. No loose, funny Xander. He was more like childish, needs-taking-care-of Xander. He hoped Spike didn't laugh at him too badly tomorrow morning. "Thanks, Spike," he said. Maybe a little too adoringly, but maybe that could be chalked up to heavy beer consumption. Spike shrugged awkwardly. Even through the alcohol he could see Spike was uncomfortable with thanks. Okay, no more thanking then. Just eating. The sandwich really was good. He didn't react when Spike sat next to him, remote in hand. "Mind?" Spike turned on the TV without a response. "It's not that late, yet. Think I'll skip patrol, though. Don't want you to drown in your own puke," he added nastily. Fake nastily, but Xander wasn't going to mention that. Xander finished his sandwich and washed it down with the bottled water. "You're all heart," he said, comfortably sarcastic this time. Spike snorted, stretching his arms over the back of the sofa. He flipped quickly. Xander grew dizzy watching the channels fly by so he let his eyes fall shut. He didn't start when he felt cool fingers against his neck. The skin there was hot and sweaty from his drunken state, so the gentle brushing back and forth felt nice. He did murmur when Spike started toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, but a soft word from Spike quieted him. There was a Spanish soap opera running on the television, and cool, caring fingers lulling him into a very happy place, and all Xander could think was that he only had one day left, and then it was back to being Spikeless. He had to manufacture another excuse. Or something, because he really, really liked this. Especially when Spike just shifted when he listed to one side, allowing Xander's body to stretch out, head on Spike's thigh. "Nice," Xander muttered. He hadn't meant to say it out loud though. Wondering how much damage he'd done, trying to force himself awake and sober at the same time, he wasn't prepared for Spike's chuckle. "You just like the cold, you drunken sod." "And you're only using me for my body heat, you whore," Xander snickered back. "Works out well, then." Lulled by the sound of chattering Spanish voices, Xander let himself drift off. Spike's thigh was hard underneath his ear, but not uncomfortable. Fingers toyed with his hair and rubbed gently over his sweaty back, calming him. Xander was so happy. Part Three Xander was sore when he woke up. Not sore in a 'I worked out all day' way, or a 'I had the best sex of my life' way, but more like a 'I slept so hard it hurt me' way. It felt good. Lifting his head a little, Xander got his bearings. Bed. Crypt. Wait, not his little air mattress, but Spike's bed. He put his head back on his pillow and ... realized the 'pillow' was actually Spike. Oh, sweet double-dutching jeezus. Spike grunted at the returning weight of Xander's head on his chest and shifted irritably. "Stop moving," he mumbled, clearly ninety nine percent asleep. Arms around Xander's body tightened a fraction. "G'back to sleep." Xander froze. He didn't mean to tense up, really he didn't. But it was good, and how could he possibly relax, let alone go back to sleep? "Oh, for bloody ... " Muttering in annoyance, Spike rolled over, forcing Xander to move with him. Now lying half on top of Xander, Spike, well .... snuggled. "Sodding limpet," came the sleepy murmurs. Xander didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but coming from Spike's sleepy lips -- lips that were close enough to kiss, if he was so inclined -- it sounded like an endearment. "Sorry?" he whispered. He could undo his arms, which held Spike as tightly as he was being held. "Shut. It." Spike turned his head with the sharp, abrupt movements of a body mostly asleep and trying to get back to 'fully', so he was facing away from Xander. His ear was nearly over Xander's heart. "Shut your mouth, or I'll bloody well make you." Speaking of Xander's heart, it was starting to pound. Not in fear or anxiety or anything Spike would probably expect, but full on, oh-my-god-did-he-just-say-that lust. "Yeah?" Xander said. Stupid to say, stupid to think, but he couldn't help it. He had too many fantasies of ways Spike could make him shut up. Spike gave a mournful grumble. "Pet, if you don't shut up, I'm gonna regret letting you stay here." He still sounded mostly asleep. Like the part of people's brains that controlled what they thought and what they said was faulty -- kinda the way Xander's was, all the time. Xander sighed. You give a man an opening like that and he doesn't take it, then he must not want it at all. Figured. Xander was just glad Spike was a little too groggy to realize. "Go back to sleep, Spike," Xander said, slipping out of the bed. "Oi!" A flurry of blankets being tossed and Xander was flat on his back, a very strong vampire wrapped around him. "Didn't say you could move wanker." And then Spike rubbed. It wasn't a sexual rub, Xander told himself. Just the way a guy would snuggle up to a warm teddy bear. Except the electric blanket was on, so Spike probably wasn't that cold, and oh, wow. Spike's dick was pressing into his thigh. Probably didn't realize he was doing it. Probably wasn't for Xander, just a normal morning erection. But that didn't stop Xander from dreaming. His own cock filled and swelled, and Xander turned, just a little, to press against Spike. Now, he knew Spike was half asleep. Knew if he was awake, this wouldn't be happening. But when Xander tried to drag up the guilt he should have been feeling to give himself the strength to pull away, well -- it wasn't there. And Xander moved a little more, shifted his body against Spike's cock. Accidental, slow caress. Spike rumbled low in his throat. It was an incredibly sexy, wanton sound and Xander's cock got a little bit harder. If he moved his hand down, slipped it there between their bodies to touch Spike, then it wouldn't be 'accidental', and Spike would stop him. So Xander just held on and moved a little more, arm slung around Spike's neck now, his face in messy, platinum curls. Another rumbling, almost yowling sound. Like a cat getting its belly rubbed. Spike shifted against him again, moving even closer, with his thigh slipping between Xander's legs. Right over his cock. It felt too good, Xander knew if it went on he was going to give himself away and then it was back to living the life of the Spikeless. And he'd give up just about anything to keep that disaster from happening. He knew he had to move. Not arch back and swallow a groan as Spike's hand rested on his belly, rubbing lightly. "You," Spike pronounced slowly, "need a shower, pet." Xander blinked, surprised at how awake Spike sounded. Had he -- did he know -- was he gonna -- but Spike was smiling up at him, eyes clear and calm, not the least disturbed about their positions. He didn't sound like he wanted Xander to roll out of bed that instant and into the shower. Mostly he sounded ... teasing. Xander blushed and unwound his arm from around Spike's neck. "Yeah," he managed. He smacked his mouth a little and made a face. "Need to brush my teeth, too." "Hm." Spike was still rubbing his belly. Xander didn't know if he was supposed to ignore it completely -- the way Spike seemed to -- or curl up into the caress the way he desperately wanted to. "So, I should go and do all that." Was he imagining Spike's flash disappointment? He definitely saw the return of the sneer, but was it hiding something? Xander pondered those and other questions as he did his morning business. Was cuddly, snugly Spike an accident? He'd seemed different recently, and Xander didn't know what to make of it. Were they just friends? Xander was more than happy to settle for that. Just being near Spike made him happy, and ... well, he had his hand when the oversexed fantasies started running through his mind again. Like now, when only a few pulls of his cock under the hot water of the shower made him come. He didn't even need to think about it, because the feeling of SpikeSpikeSpike was so fresh in his memory. He could still feel the hard press of Spike's cock against his thigh. Minty fresh, deodorized, and wrapped in a damn towel, Xander exited the 'bathroom' and went in search of clothes. Spike was still lounging in bed. Hands tucked behind his head, framed by black sheets and the red blanket bunched over his feet, he looked beautiful. Statue of David beautiful. It made Xander's throat go dry. "Back?" Spike sat up and grabbed at his own towel. "Good." It hit Xander, then, watching Spike head towards the shower, that they'd been in bed together. Naked. That Spike had undressed them both and put them both into bed. Naked. Xander blinked and sat on the edge of the bed. He tried to figure out what being naked in bed with Spike meant, but he was having a hard time getting past the words naked, bed and Spike. He realized he knew nothing about vampires and sex. Was there such a thing as platonic nudity in vampire, er, society? Because as much as he tried, Xander was having a hard time reconciling naked bed-sharing with the whole 'just buddies' thing he had going on with Spike. He knew that Spike didn't like him. Well, Spike didn't really like anybody, so Xander wasn't daunted by that. Spike didn't seem to mind him too terribly much -- if Buffy had tried the whole 'fumigation' trick, Xander really doubted it would've gone over as well. Also, he really doubted Buffy would try something like that. Confused and distracted, Xander tugged clothes onto his damp body. Sitting on the corner of the bed to put on his socks, he distantly noted that the shower had turned off. That meant Spike was done. Of course, it didn't mean that Spike would stand right in front of Xander, wearing nothing but a really skimpy towel, when Xander -- still bent over -- looked up. "Uh, hi," Xander said. Then closed his eyes and berated himself, because 'hi' was just about the stupidest thing he could have said. But Spike wasn't laughing. "Hey." Spike was smiling at him curiously. "Wanna go upstairs while I change?" "Oh! Right. More nudity. I'll ... just be going now." He didn't wait for any reply, just scrambled up the ladder in his socks. Man. Man oh man. Xander was ... 'weirded out' was probably a good description. Flying was another. He'd slept in Spike's bed. Naked! And Spike had freaking cuddled with him, and was giving him weirdly soft and friendly grins, and okay, this probably wasn't going to lead up to the hot, dirty sex he fantasized about. But that was so okay. Humming contentedly, Xander set about making breakfast for them both. By the time Spike poked his head out of the hole like some bleached blond rabbit, Xander had breakfast for himself ready, with a bit put aside for Spike if he wanted, and Spike's blood heated to just the right temperature. Xander knew it was the right temperature because he'd spent so much time watching Spike and learning Spike and ... he was hopelessly obsessed. And doomed. So very, very doomed. Spike wasn't wearing a shirt. Just jeans, no socks, even. Guh. "Ta," he thanked, picking up his mug and a few slices of toast. "So you go back tonight?" "Back?" Xander echoed. Oh, right. Shit. "Uh, I guess? Maybe tomorrow morning, just to be safe." That's right, Xander, buy yourself a few more hours worth of time so you can come up with an excuse not to go back. Okay, the original plan had been to just stay and then go, leaving Spike with ... an electric blanket. But. The new plan was now apparently to stay as long as possible and to see if there would be more naked snuggling. If Spike let him. "If ... that's okay." "You've made yourself pretty at home already," he said with a wave at the redecorated upper level. Then he started fidgeting. Had Spike ever fidgeted before? It was cute. "Not, uh, kicking you out, if that's what you're asking." Xander nodded. "Good. It's uh, still a crypt though." He noticed when Spike's face seemed to fall a little. "But you know, home is where the heart is and all. Bet I could make this place look like a posh apartment with a few things. Some drywall, a few beams," he said, looking around. "Spackle, paint, maybe a little hard wood for the floor. Or wall to wall carpeting. How do you feel about berber?" "No carpet in a crypt, pet. Doesn't go with the ambiance." Finishing his blood, Spike stole a few forkfuls of eggs. Xander waited. He knew Spike had more to say -- he'd just gone all Bob Villa and if nothing else, that was prime mockage material. But Spike didn't say anything, cleaning up his stuff and wiping down the hotplate. Then he sat down in front of the television, and that was apparently that. Xander had no idea what it meant. "Yeah. Maybe I should look into buying a house to get this interior design bug out of me," Xander said after a while. "Just doesn't seem right to buy a house just for myself. Not really worth it if I can't share it." He sighed and sat beside Spike, suddenly wishing that this could never end, and he'd never have to go back to being lonely and pining again. "Bloody sci-fi marathon," Spike said after a few moments. Battlestar Galactica continued playing in all its cheesy glory, the remote sitting on the arm of the sofa. "And you should do that. Don't like your apartment much." "Yeah, me neither. Not very cozy, you know? Too much of that whole modern feel to it. That was Anya's style, not mine. I feel like a complete girl, but I kinda want the white picket fence." "And she wanted the deluxe penthouse, didn't she. All cold and metal." Not a question, but the amount of antagonism was surprising. Not directed at Xander, though, not since Spike was currently patting his thigh and saying, "Not girly, wanting to put down roots an' all. Plus, you like that stuff, putting things right. Should look for a fixer-upper, something you can really make yours." Xander smiled, suddenly feeling embarrassed and a little nervous. "There's a place I've been looking at for a few months. It's a two bedroom, kinda small, but it's got a little yard and these great windows, and a nice big kitchen. There's room out back for a nice little patio and a hot tub, and ..." He sighed and leaned back against the sofa. "And way out of my price range. Fucking California real estate." Half-turning so he could see Xander better, Spike cocked his head. His expression was totally unreadable. "How much out? Thought you were making good money at the construction gig." A flicker of something was in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm making good money. Not that good. Do you have any idea how much a house around here costs? You'd think the value of property on the hellmouth would be a little on the depreciating side. But you'd be thinking wrong. Bank won't even give me a loan that big, not with me being as young as I am and with my past job history. Maybe in a few years, after I've been working steady." "Yeah, true enough. Could show me the place, later? Two bedroom ... sounds nice." No way, no way was Xander reading anything into that. He wasn't. Really. Nuh uh. But it really did sound like ... "You need a workroom," Spike was continuing. "Know you like carving stuff. Bet you could make some nice tables and chairs and sell those off. I know you've been carving all the Slayer's stakes -- the scroll work's a nice touch." Xander blushed. If heat was a color then what he was feeling was fire engine red. Or maybe scarlet. "I ... dabble." The eyebrow went up. "You forget, pet, I've seen master carpenters before. My furniture wasn't bloody mass produced, back in the day. You do good work. There's gotta be a market for the high-end stuff." More blushing. He almost wished Spike would stop, because it was so embarrassing, and then the embarrassment itself was embarrassing. "It would be nice to make a little cash from it. I mean, it's just a hobby, and I don't know if anyone would pay, but ... it's a good idea. I'll think about it." He smiled and ducked his head. "And if you want to see it, I could ... call the realtor. See if she'll meet us later, after sundown. Tomorrow, if you wanted to." "Tomorrow? Sure, sounds good. Can go with you before patrol. Are you coming tonight? Since you're, uh, staying tonight and all. Don't have to take all the stuff back yet." Xander grinned. He'd been so caught up in Spike, and Spike's crypt, and Spike's shower head and Spike's blood and Spike's water heater and Spike's bed and ... yeah. Anyway, he hadn't even thought about patrol. "Yeah, I'll come tonight. Just you and me, or are the others coming to make an event of it?" "Slayer should be around," was the noncommittal answer. Then Spike grinned at him and Xander was afraid his heart could stop. "But don't worry, we can avoid her." Xander found himself smiling back, and suddenly the moment felt special, like they were sharing something, just the two of them. Part Four Xander really hated patrolling in the rain. Spike was complaining, Xander was complaining, even the newly-risen vamps were complaining as they dug themselves out of their fresh, muddy graves. "Should have brought a bloody umbrella," Spike grumbled, his boots making squish-squish sounds in the soaked grass. "Hey, maybe we can find one with a stake on the handle. You know, for next time?" "Your first commission," Spike agreed. "And I'll pay you a hundred bucks." Xander snickered and punched Spike lightly on the arm. "Good one. Like I can make a fucking umbrella." His laughter was cut off in the middle, though, because standing right in front of them was the biggest, meanest, slimiest demon Xander'd seen this side of ... well, okay, it was the biggest and meanest he'd seen that week, at least. "What the fuck is that?" Xander said quietly. "Zirox demon," Spike said back, just as quietly. "I thought Xerox demons lived in offices?" "Not the time for jokes, pet." "Um, okay, so how do we kill it?" Xander asked. Spike wasn't looking amused anymore, he was looking worried. And a worried Spike usually meant an owie Xander. "Spike? Brilliant ideas really good right about now." "Stone kills it. In the arse." "The what?" His too-loud squawk alerted the demon. It growled and lowed and basically said 'I didn't want to be disturbed and now I must kill you'. Xander eeped and hid behind Spike. The demon picked Spike up and threw him. Not too far, so Xander wasn't worried about him, but he was worried about himself, because the demon was advancing and looking hella pissed. "Stone. Okay, lots of stone, since, hey, headstones. Unless it's a certain kind of stone? And I don't even know where your, um, bottom is let alone how to unearth a gravestone and shove it there and please don't hurt me?" Backing up as fast he could wasn't a good plan. He tripped over an aforementioned headstone, going down hard. The demon chuckled wetly and advanced. "Oi! Reject from Office Space! Over here!" Spike's holler distracted the demon long enough for Xander to scramble to his feet and see Spike swinging an unearthed headstone menacingly. The demon swiped at Spike again and missed, and then decided it would pin the vampire down. Spike was struggling beneath the massive grip, and Xander (acting solely on dumb instinct and Spike-preservation) stuck a stake in the demon's back. It roared -- hey, the thing had nerves -- flailing. Spike and Xander both went flying. Xander </i>oofed</i> when he hit the ground, mud squishing and something flaring hot and painful in his side. Dispassionately, his mind determined the injury not that bad, and getting to his feet now was more important. The demon roared again, turning back and forth trying to determine which irritant it was going to go after first. Spike started shouting. "Oi! That's enough! It's wet, I'm cold, I've got mud in my bloody ears and you are going to die Right. Fucking. Now!" And shoved a broken piece of headstone into the demon's backside. It exploded. Xander laughed and winced at the same time, limping slightly as he rejoined Spike. "Do you really have mud in your ears?" Spike shook his head like a dog. Mud coated the entire left side of his face. "Yeah. And I'm telling you now, you take that bloody hot water heater back with you, I'm gonna steal the bloody thing. Want this shit off." Still grumbling, he stomped back towards the crypt. Xander grinned and trailed behind him. Halfway back, Spike turned around. "You're limping," he accused. "Christ, can't you for once not get hurt?" Waiting until Xander caught up, he slid a muddy arm around his back and persuaded Xander to lean on him to spare his aching right leg. "Hurt bad?" "Don't think so." Xander was proud that his voice didn't tremble or give his happiness away. "It's just a scrape, Spike." "Yeah, yeah. With you 'just a scrape' is gonna turn into bloody gangrene. Come on, lean on me." Xander was quite happy to lean on Spike. More than happy, actually. Joyful, ecstatic, really excited -- he even considered letting demons get the better of him more often, just for a little extra Spike closeness. But then again, he got enough boo-boos; he didn't need more, no matter how much Spikage it got him. Back at home -- the crypt -- Spike chivvied them both downstairs to the shower. "Turn it on," he ordered, busy holding Xander upright. Xander did what he was told without question, although he certainly was wondering just what the heck was going on. Hot water immediately sluiced down over both of them. "Ahh! What the hell!" "At least it isn't cold water." Pushing Xander to lean against the crypt wall, he stuck his head under the water, shaking mud off like a dog. "Now, then, let's see what you did to yourself." "Spike! I'm standing under water fully clothed!" "Better then the rain, innit?" Xander started laughing. Then winced. His side hurt a little more than he was prepared for. He twisted and pulled his shirt up a little, trying to see the damage. Cool hands probed the skin gently, and Xander protested. "Hey, lemme see!" "Hush up." Spike pushed and prodded him, blonde head turning dark gold underneath the spray. "Bruised a rib, I think. And you cut yourself. Not bad, but it must hurt like a bitch." Xander shrugged. "I've had a lot worse. What about you, did you crack anything open? I've been itching for a chance to test my newly acquired suturing skills. What do you think?" Xander said, giving Spike a practiced, comically interested look. "Need sewing?" Spike smiled briefly. "Think you need the stitches, pet." Xander had a brief moment of 'oh, shit'. Then a 'he's joking' moment of relief. But Spike wasn't laughing, or smirking, and Xander closed his eyes and let his head bang against the shower wall. "Fuck. You got anything for pain? You can't do it unless I'm good and numb; don't want your chip going off." "Got something. Here, get this off. Can you stand on your own? Good, lemme go get you some clothes. Wash as much of the muck off as you can." Spike closed the curtain behind him. In the relative darkness behind the black curtain, Xander mouthed curses. He'd thought he'd just scratched it a little! Xander undressed and turned this way and that, trying to get as clean as he could. He thought most of the mud was on his clothes, anyway, so that was a good. "Done!" he said, poking his head outside the curtain. Sweat pants were thrust past the curtain. "Put these on, then lemme in." "What, I can't even dry off, first?" Xander whined. But then he pulled the pants on over his wet legs and opened the curtain. "Why are you coming in here? Wouldn't this be more comfortable over on the bed or something?" "Because I want the mud off of me, numbskull." Spike rubbed a hand through muddy hair, then grimaced at it. "Just go sit on the bed, keep the towel pressed against, and I'll be quick, all right? I fucking hate being covered in muck like this." Xander went and sat on the bed like a good little boy and waited for the sexy vampire to finish soaping himself off. Guh. Spike really was quick, muttering as he washed that toned, lean, unusually soft body that Xander couldn't see, but had to stop thinking about. Soon. "All right." Dressed in a clean pair of jeans, Spike headed towards a small cubby by his bed. "Take these, pet. Send you to la-la land, they will." Xander downed them happily without water, a trick you picked up quick when you were Xander Harris. His side was really starting to hurt, and hopefully whatever Spike was giving him would work quickly. Brows drawn and close, Spike looked angry. He wasn't, though. Xander wasn't sure what he was, but when Spike was angry he shouted and broke things and snarled at everyone. He didn't gently roll people on their sides, blotting the still-bleeding cut, fiddling with thread and suture-string. "Nicked the dissolvable stuff a while back," he said quietly. "So it'll pop on its own in a few days. Only need one or two, pet, so it won't be so bad." "You know," Xander said after a few minutes of waiting for the meds to kick in, "if I get really numb and stuff, you could probably bite me and I wouldn't feel it. You're not gonna bite me, are you, Spike?" "What?" There was a pure note of shock in his voice. "Bloody hell, didn't think the drugs would work that fast!" "Well, I'm human, and you probably got them from a vampire doctor," Xander said, nodding. It made complete sense. "Uh huuh. Little pink elephants telling you that?" Spike's hands felt almost warm, pushing him more onto his belly. The first prick of the needle made him stiffen, but Spike stayed soundless and the pain soon faded into the general 'owiness' of his side. "You're really good at this Spike," Xander murmured. It only tickled, really. "You're so good to me." "You're loopy, pet, just relax and let me get this. Just a bit more now." Spike's breath was cool against the bare skin of his back. His hands were large and slightly callused at certain finger tips. He couldn't figure out which ones, but he liked the feel of them. "Just a bit more, now," he almost sang. "Almost done." "Your fingers feel good, Spike. You've got special Spike fingers." "You keep thinking that." A few more pokes and then, "All right, that's it. Roll over; lemme look at those ribs more." Xander did as he was told and smiled happily up at Spike. Spike smiled back, laughing a little. "Think I like you this loopy, pet. Here, does this hurt?" He pressed down a little, then winced. "Answered my own question, didn't I? Just bruised like I thought. Come on, now, into bed. Gonna get you something to eat, okay?" "Not hungry," Xander said, pulling Spike down with him. "Come lay down and talk to me. We don't ever get to talk, Spike." He said it gravely so Spike would understand how important it was. Spike chuckled. "Too busy being nervous around me, pet. But all right." Arranging himself comfortably beside Xander seemed to mean pulling Xander against his chest, and Xander wasn't complaining. "So what do you want to talk about, hm?" "Is there such a thing as platonic nude bed-sharing?" Spike blinked. "Say what now?" "Last night," Xander explained impatiently. "Me, you, naked in the same bed." Spike's shoulders moved under his head. "You turned into a leech, and I sleep naked. Didn't feel like rubbing up against jeans." "Oh," Xander said. It made perfect sense when Spike said it like that, and made him feel stupid for ever hoping it was more than that. "Okay. Guess it's no big deal then." Spike's fingers found their way back into his hair. "Did you want it to be a big deal, pet?" Xander frowned. "I ... don't want you to stop being my friend," he said. He was trying to explain, wanted Spike to know he wouldn't jeopardize what they had. Spike's fingers stopped moving. "Is that what I am? Your friend?" Xander moved his head against Spike's fingers, wanting the touch back. "I'm your friend, Spike," he said slowly, blinking groggily. "And you're my ... everything." Spike went very, very still. Xander blinked, twisting around because Spike being still was bad, except ow, that hurt his side. "Hey, easy." Spike got him straightened out, again petting his hair and back. It felt so nice. "Think we should tell Buffy about the Zirox? Pretty nasty bugger. If it's around, could be bad news." "But you killed it?" Xander asked. "Killed the male. Female's probably out there now, wondering who the hell made her hubby go splat." "Yeah. Should tell her," Xander said, yawning. "You tell her. I'm gonna take a nap." "Yeah, all right." The last thing Xander remembered was Spike stripping them both out of their pants. Part Five There was a sock in his mouth. Something fuzzy was wrapped around his brain, and his side ached badly. And, he realized with a sense of impeding doom, he was late. "Shit!" Struggling out of Spike's hold and the grasping softness of the blankets, Xander stumbled over to the shower and sluiced himself off cold. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered. "S'matter, pet?" was the muffled question from the bed. Oh crap, he'd woken Spike up. Jamming himself into clothes, Xander went over to Spike and -- greatly daring -- stroked his neck lightly. "Nothing, Spike. I'm just late for work. I'll, um, see you later." Not later, though, because his apartment was done being 'fumigated'. Had he realized how much he hated the place? Not until he and Spike had talked about it and ... Halfway to work, Xander almost got into an accident. He'd asked Spike about the naked-platonic thing. He didn't remember all the details, but he did remember that. And ... Spike must have answered him, because Spike would of course answer a direct question. But what the hell had he said? Xander worried about it all day. He remembered to call the realtor, though, the way he'd told Spike he would. Well, that would give him an excuse to go back to Spike's crypt, at least. He did pretty much nothing until it was time to leave. His boss found about his injury -- "Another one, Harris?" -- and had him on desk duty. Xander hated desk duty but he did what he had to and tried not to worry about tonight too much. When he caught himself writing 'Spike' instead of Bill Spector on an invoice, he got himself a cup of coffee and managed to finish off all what little work he needed to do. By quitting time he was bursting to get the hell out of there. His car practically flew as he went home, changed, and then went over to the crypt. He entered a little cautiously, though, not knowing exactly what to expect from Spike. "Spike? You here?" he called out. All the homey touches Xander had brought -- the blankets, the pillows, the rugs -- those were all gone. Xander spied a neatly-tied bundle next to the sofa and knew they were all there. Wait. That bundle was way too small. Good. Grinning happily now that Spike was 'stealing' things from him, he wandered down to the opening to the lower level. "Spike? Um, do you still want to do this?" "Said I did, didn't I? Calling me a liar?" Spike almost ran up the ladder, a grin simmering under the affected sneer. "Right, let's get this bloody over with." Xander didn't bother to hide his own grin as he blocked the door. "Sun won't be down for another twenty minutes. I'm sure you're not eager to be a torch." "Oh. Er, right." Still affecting a sneer and now a swagger, Spike stalked over to the TV. "Suppose you'll be wanting all this back, now." "I don't really have the room right now. Uh, maybe you can keep it for me for a while?" "Not your bloody storage facility. You talk to Buffy today?" "I was supposed to?" Xander asked, a little confused. "Oh, for Christ -- the Zirox demon? You remember?" Spike searched his pockets for his cigarettes, impatiently lighting one. "I remember the demon, but you killed it, remember?" Xander said. He had a nice little case of deja vu, too. Spike puffed. "It has a mate. And you know what? Fuck it. If Slayer gets her arse wiped, it's her own fault. Sun's down, c'mon." Xander nodded and followed Spike out to the car. The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Xander allowed himself a few moments of a 'Xander and Spike go house shopping' fantasy. It really didn't even seem like that much of a fantasy, when he thought about it. "There it is," Xander said proudly as they pulled up into the drive. The lights from the inside of the small house seemed to glow warmly, and Xander was happy that Spike could see it like this. It had been a good idea to call the realtor and not to just come over and peek in the windows in the dark. The realtor was waiting on the walk up to the house. Even the walk showed just how badly in need of repair the house was, with cracks and uneven patches. Xander skirted them, smiling a hello. The realtor -- Susan -- didn't even blink at the smoking, sneering, scowling shadow behind Xander's shoulder. "I'm so glad you decided to look again," Susan was saying warmly. "I think you really suit this house. It's got an ... old-time charm." Xander didn't have any idea what that meant, but he followed along happily as Susan went over the salient features. "Well, I've already gone over this with you before, I'm sure you know it all. I think I'll just leave you two alone to look by yourselves now," Susan said with a smile. "So, what do you think?" Xander asked Spike. He was nervous. He didn't know why Spike liking the house was so important to him, but he really, really wanted him to. "It's nice. Cottage-like." Xander nodded excitedly. It was cottage-like -- small and cosy and yeah, it needed work, but it was the kind of work Xander really wanted to do. It was the perfect size for two people and maybe a dog, with enough room for a workroom out back. Spike wandered through every room, commenting here and there. Back at the kitchen, which had granite counter-tops but dilapidated cabinets above and below, he paused and looked at Xander thoughtfully. "You really like this place, huh?" "Are you kidding? I love it. I've wanted it from the first time I saw it, and I've come back here over and over, just to walk around the yard and ..." He trailed off and blushed. Spike didn't ask him all that. "You're such a wuss, you know that? Mind hanging out here a bit? Think I need a smoke." Without waiting for Xander's response, Spike disappeared from the room. Okay, that was weird. And ... who was Susan talking to? Xander shrugged and ran his hands over the counter again. He'd read a book on cabinetry, and he was pretty sure he could make some nice cabinets. Maybe a little carving up towards the ceiling, a nice light wood, thin sheen of polyurethane. Lost in his musing, he didn't hear Spike return. "This place is beautiful, pet. Or it could be with a little work." Xander turned and grinned. "Or a lot of work. Which is even better. Making it my own -- that would be the best." It really would be, and the way Spike was grinning at him, he knew the vampire agreed. Strange, that. Only Dawn understood wanting to take a place and totally refurbish and restore it -- Buffy and Willow had just seen the problems and how much money it would drain from him, not the joys he would get from it. "It's not, uh, that expensive," Spike said slowly. Xander snickered. "Uh, yeah, it is." Shaking his head, Spike fiddled with an unlit cigarette. "Nah, rates are down, and under a hundred grand for this kind of property's pretty cheap. You've got a nice little view, neighborhood's quiet. Not a lot of vamps come through here, either, which is a point in this bloody town. Close to sea; know how much you like that." Xander ducked his head and smiled. It felt nice that Spike seemed to see all the good things about the house, unlike the others who just saw a run-down, tiny place that no one in their right mind should look twice at. "Yeah, it's nearly perfect. But ... I still can't afford it, Spike. It's nice to dream though." "Yeah," Spike answered distractedly. "Dreams are good. So, uh, you wanna go get some grub? I feel like a beer." There was a strangely hopeful air about Spike. Almost shy. It didn't make any sense -- Spike, shy? -- but Xander couldn't shake the feeling that Spike was, well, a little nervous around him. But not nervous in a bad way. He shook his head trying to make his thoughts settle down. "Yeah. I'm feeling a little hungry, actually. I'll go tell Susan we're leaving." Susan seemed unusually warm and cheerful as he made his goodbyes. She did reaffirm that this little house was perfect for him -- and that there weren't a lot of other buyers out there. She seemed less interested in making a sale and more interested in making sure he made the sale. It was refreshing. "So, Bronze?" he asked as they headed back to the car. "Nah, how 'bout real dinner? Could do with something more than grease tonight." "Got anything in mind?" Xander asked. Real dinner? With Spike? At like, a restaurant? "You like Italian, right?" Spike rolled down his window and lit up. The sight of his profile against the warm sky and the glowing cherry of his cigarette made Xander swallow abruptly. "Could go to that new place down on Russell?" Xander gave Spike a crooked grin. "Oooh, fancy. I don't get to go to places too often that have, like, tablecloths. You think they'll have napkins? Silverware that doesn't look like it got stuck in the garbage disposal? Cute little waiters running around to do our bidding?" "Always fun to see 'em make garlic-less garlic bread," Spike agreed. Xander snickered and turned the car down Russell. "Isn't that a big tipoff around here? They might douse you in holy water if you order that." "You'll just have to protect me, then, won't you?" Spike said with a sidelong look. "Speaking of, how's your side feel?" Xander parked the car and gave a little experimental stretch. "Okay. Not too bad. I've had a lot worse. At least this one didn't require any trips to the emergency room, for which I am one grateful little Scooby." "Stitches aren't pulling too bad, are they? I know it's just two." Spike brushed up against his side, hands seeking the injury without going underneath the shirt. Xander eeped a little -- cold! -- but held still while Spike check him over. Spike was checking him over. Cool. "They're fine," Xander said. "You did a good job." No, no, don't let that stupid 'ooh, Spike, my hero!' tone into your voice, Xan! Spike smiled -- shyly. Spike was actually smiling shyly! "Just two stitches," he demurred. "C'mon, should be early enough there's no line. Bloody hate waiting in line." Amused, Xander watched the way Spike stalked into the restaurant. All brass and black leather and cool, disdainful sneer. Hot as hell, really, and Xander was glad it was on his side. He hurried forward when he heard a polite, "Of course, right this way, sir." Well, that was quick. If he didn't know better, he might suspect Spike had called ahead. Inside, they were seated at a cozy little corner table. They could see most of the restaurant, but it was set apart from the other tables, enough to be semi-private and -- dare he even think it? -- romantic. Xander tried not to grin like a loon. A cute, brunette waitress appeared and lit the small oil-lamp on their table. "Good evening, gentleman. My name is Mary and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink?" "Bottle of Chablis," Spike said immediately. "Xan, you want an appetizer?" "Um, I don't know?" Xander answered. Spike chuckled. "Know I said I didn't want grease tonight, but how about a plate of the fried zucchini?" Catching Xander's expression, he grinned. "Trust me, you'll like it." The waitress murmured agreement and left. They made small talk for a while until Xander remembered what had been ordered. "Zucchini is gross," he stated firmly. "Yeah, but you're still trying this. And you'll like it." Xander rolled his eyes. "Yes, Daddy." Spike grinned. "Cheeky lad. Somebody needs his bottom tanned, if he continues mouthin' off." Spike was teasing, Xander knew he was, but the raised eyebrows on the waitress returning with the wine was humiliating. Xander flushed and stared at the table while Spike tested the wine and nodded his approval. Yes, they needed a few more moments, thanks. "Oh, relax, pet," he said when Mary disappeared. "She doesn't think anything untoward. Try the wine; s'nice vintage." Tried some of the zucchini first, and was actually surprised that he liked it. At Spike's prodding, Xander sipped the wine and made a face. Then he sipped again. It was better the second time. Watching him closely, Spike caught the first reaction. "Not a big wine-drinker, are you? Shouldn't be surprised. Try their lasagna, pet, I've heard it's good." Spike the wine-and-food-connoisseur was decidedly creepy, but Xander was enjoying it. Forays into 'respectable' dining with Anya had usually forced him into the role of knowing all the answers -- when he really didn't. It was nice to just sit back and let Spike take care of that kind of thing. Xander just hoped he wasn't looking that dopey. Food was ordered. Spike coaxed Xander into talking about the house again, and Xander warmed to the conversation quickly. When he started talking about different types of stone for the patio he had to stop, though, convinced he was boring Spike to death. Luckily the food arrived then and Xander had another focus. Lasagna, as thick and meaty and cheesy as he loved, and hot enough that he had to gulp his wine to cool his mouth. It was delicious. Smiling happily through his mouthful, Xander thought about thanking Spike for suggesting the place -- food was usually either crap he made, or fast food, and it'd been a while since he had a nice dinner like this. "How garlicky is that, pet?" Spike asked after a few moments of concerted eating. "Wanna try some of my ravioli?" "Not too much garlic," Xander answered after he swallowed. "Just right, actually. Ravioli? Yeah, give." He was acting like he'd never eaten before, but the food was *really* good. Spike cut one of the ravioli in half, as prim and proper as Giles. Then he plopped the bit of dough, cheese, spinach and red-sauce onto Xander's plate and took a *huge* forkful of Xander's lasagna. "Hey!" "You got twice as much food as me, wanker, don't complain!" "You don't need to eat to survive!" He watched, stunned, as Spike shoved the entire piece into his mouth. A strand of cheese hung from Spike lips, sauce surrounding his mouth like poorly done makeup. Spike grinned broadly and chewed -- mouth slightly open. "That's disgusting, Spike," Xander accused, but he was laughing as he said it. Spike just continued chewing, looking smug. He did clean his mouth, though. Xander picked up the teensy bit of ravioli on his fork and took a bite. "Mm, pretty good," he said, then quickly speared a whole one from Spike's place and ate it. "Mm, even better." "Wanker," Spike teased him, but didn't try and steal any more of his food. "Want dessert here? Or are you gonna eat that entire plate and start moaning to me about being too full to move?" He refilled Xander's wine glass while he spoke. "Dessert's good. You can order," Xander said with a grin. He figured Spike was enjoying this whole experience, and Xander might as well let him be in control. Not that he'd say that out loud. They finished their meals, Spike accepting the menu for dessert. After a moment's perusal, he ordered a glass of port for them both, tiramisu and piece of the Chocolate Sin cake. Xander was pretty sure he *was* going to have to be rolled out of the restaurant. "Uh, isn't this getting kinda pricey?" Spike dismissed that with a wave. "Don't worry about it. Have an ... arrangement." He flashed a toothy grin that in no way reassured Xander. Dessert was yummy but the port, which Xander's never had before, was even yummier. He grinned at Spike as he sipped and bit and sipped again. "This? Is really nice. But you're sure I can't help pay for it?" Spike diverted the question -- easily, since Xander was getting increasingly tipsy. "C'mon, pet, out we go. Say bye to the nice waitress now." Xander waved to a grinning Mary and let Spike help him outside. "That was really nice," he said too loudly. "Really." Spike got him into the car and then slid in next to Xander in the driver's seat. "This driving you around is becoming a habit, pet," Spike said with a smile. "This was really nice," Xander repeated. "You said that already." Spike's chuckle was low and warm. "Should I stop back at my place, maybe grab your stuff before I take you home?" "Yeah," Xander agreed. "Home." The car thrummed, echoing inside his skull. Xander snuggled into the passenger seat, watching Spike more then he watched the road. "Nice," he repeated for the who-knew-how-many-eth time. "Think you need a bigger vocabulary, love. And I'm thinking I'll return your stuff tomorrow." The fond glance told Xander that was acting or looking drunker then he felt, but that was okay. He was warm and full and comfy and Spike had called him 'love'. "Thank you for coming with me, Spike," Xander murmured. "To the house. And for taking me out. It's nice to go out and not, like, end up needing stitches." "It is, pet. A proper date." Blinking under that startling statement, Xander was sure -- sure -- it was the wine talking. But Spike was parking the car and helping up the stairs, fumbling into Xander's pockets for the key to his apartment. "In you go, pet, come on." The barrier had been down for Spike for months now, so Spike was able to lead Xander directly to the bedroom. Gently pushing him onto the mattress, Spike knelt and started undoing Xander's shoes. Xander blinked. "I thought I said I wanted to go back to the crypt?" he asked, totally confused. "You did," Spike said patiently, "and I said that we could get your stuff tomorrow. It's not like you need most of it when you're about ten seconds from passing out, love." "Didn't want to come back here," Xander grumbled. "Hate it hate it. Stupid ... place." Spike had removed the right shoe, but he paused while unlacing the second. "You hate it that much, pet?" he asked softly. "Enough to want to spend another night with me?" Xander giggled and nudged Spike with his toe. "Is that a come on?" Capturing the socked foot, Spike rubbed it absently. "Nah. Just don't feel like giving up the electric blanket." The answer was breezy and false, but Xander was too dizzy and giggly to follow up on it. And soon he was too busy trying to stand up without falling over, leaning heavily on Spike and laughing. "So we're going home?" he asked excitedly. Spike stilled for a moment, then seemed to remember he needed to be helping Xander stand up. "Yeah, pet." The ride in the car must have taken place, but Xander didn't remember that part. He opened his eyes in time to see Spike lowering him onto the bed. "Hey." He clumsily grabbed at Spike's arms. "Don't go." "Not going far, pet," Spike said reassuringly. Forcing himself to sit up, Xander watched as Spike rummaged around doing various things before grabbing a paperback and sliding into bed beside Xander. They were both clothed, but in sweat-pants now, and Xander knew those would go pretty soon. "Whatcha reading?" Xander tried to make the letters on the cover stop crawling and order themselves appropriately. "Something with big words, love. Come here." Spike tugged and Xander went, curling up around Spike's legs with a sigh, head resting on Spike's thigh. The expected hand found its way into Xander's hair, combing lightly. "Go to sleep now, love." "Read to me?" Xander asked, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek lightly against Spike's thigh. "Like your voice." "Don't think you'd like this one. Tolstoy's prob'ly a bit too much for you. But hang on." Xander whimpered when Spike slid out of his grasp, but almost as soon as the sound died away, Spike was back, rearranging them so they were in their former positions. "The year 1866 was signalized by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten. Not to mention rumors which agitated the maritime population and excited the public mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were particularly excited ... " Xander couldn't really follow the actual words, but the flow was nice, and Spike's voice was even nicer. He fell asleep before he could ask what exactly the book was. Notes: 1. While Tolstoy wouldn't be too much for Xander -- he'd probably love it -- we figured Spike's probably reading it in Russian, therefore his hesitance to read it aloud. 2. The excerpt is from Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne. Part Six Damn it. Damn it! Xander had worked out a routine over the last two weeks. Go to work. Drive by the house on the way home from work. If he needed something specific, he'd stop by his apartment and pick it up. Then, he'd go home to Spike's crypt where they'd amuse themselves before going to sleep, or go and help the girls do normal Scooby things. No one had noticed that Xander wasn't living in his apartment anymore; Xander thought that was a good thing. It meant that his and Spike's friendship was acceptable and unworthy of shock, surprise, or intervention. But that wasn't what was pissing him off. "Damn it!" he said aloud, stomping into the crypt. He wasn't brushing the tight, burning from his eyes, because he refused to acknowledge it. "What?" Spike was lounging in front of the TV -- normal -- and toying with a sheaf of papers -- not normal. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" "My house! Someone stole my house from me!" Xander said. "I mean, someone bought it, but it's mine, and it's stealing. I mean, not mine, but ..." "The house's been sold?" Spike deduced. "Sorry, pet. Here, come sit by me, relax a bit." Xander almost fell onto the sofa, anger giving way to shock and dismay. "That's my house," he repeated. "I know, pet, don't worry." Spike tucked his legs underneath him so he was kneeling on the sofa, pushing Xander forward a bit so he could work on tense neck and shoulder muscles. "Calm down, now. Take a look at those papers?" "Spike, this is really -- " He stopped mid complaint when Spike hit a particularly sore spot. Momentarily distracted from his rant, he picked up the abandoned papers and glanced at them. The papers were a deed. And a mortgage. "Thought I should live some place a little nicer then a crypt," Spike told him quietly, still massaging. "Some place quiet and out of the way, but not far from the action, you know? Someplace warm." "You bought my house?" Xander asked, a little confused. Okay, a lot confused. And a little bit hurt. "Yup." "You know, when I was telling you how great it was, I didn't think you were gonna go out and buy it right out from under me!" He wasn't about to start crying over this. He was a little too confused for that, anyway. "You bought my house!" he said, a little more accusing this time. Spike low chuckle just made him angrier. "Yeah, I did. But it does need a lot of work and I'm not working with wood. So what do you say -- room and board for fixing the place up?" "Room and board!" Xander sputtered. "And what happens when I get my house just right? What happens when it's perfect and it doesn't need anything else? What do I do then, just let you live in my house while I go off and get another little shitty chrome and glass apartment?" Spike's hands stilled. "Then I sell you the deed for a buck and I get out of your life." Spike rose, keeping his back turned when Xander twisted around to see. "What?!" Xander practically screamed. "No one said anything about anyone getting out of anyone else's life!" He could hear the click as Spike swallowed. "Then I don't know what the bloody hell you want!" It would've been easier if Spike had shouted that, instead of that low, sad voice. "You want the deed, it's yours. Gimme a buck. I put down a lot, so the mortgage isn't too bad. I figured by the time you'd fixed everything up, you'd be able to afford the mortgage by yourself, wouldn't need me around anymore." And with that, Spike swirled the duster onto his shoulders and stalked out of his own crypt. Xander was left standing in the middle of the crypt with his mouth moving, but there wasn't any sound coming out, and he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do. Run after Spike? Er, yeah. Maybe that. He caught up to Spike just as he met Buffy near the entrance of the adjacent cemetery. "Hey, Buffy, me and the mosquito here need to have a small chat, do you mind? We'll catch up." His smile forced and frozen, Xander grabbed Spike's arm and forced him back around a small crypt. "Okay, Spike, let's go slow here. What? Is going on?" Spike's lips were turned down in a sullen sneer. "You shouldn't live in a sodding crypt. Or in that place Anya made you get. You love that house. Should have it." Xander's breath got a little short, and he felt the slightest bit lightheaded when he thought about what he was about to say. "Spike. I'm living in the crypt because that's where I want to be. If you lived on the fucking moon, that's where I'd want to be. That's no reason for you to buy a house. Now, are you telling me you bought the house because you want me out of the crypt and away from you, or because you love the house and you want it for yourself, or because you ... want me to have the house?" For a second, Spike looked like he was going to go the sneering, bluffing, badass route. Then he shrugged and looked at his feet. "Wanted you to have the house. Didn't think you'd let me buy it for you outright." Xander took that in and stepped a little closer. "You're right, I wouldn't have. And the only way I'll take it now is ..." He swallowed and looked into Spike's eyes, wanting him to know he was utterly serious. "I don't want to live there alone." Spike's shy smiles were becoming precious to Xander. "Think I got that when you said you'd live on the moon if I was there." Lifting his head a little, Spike met Xander's eyes. "It's a two-bedroom, isn't it? And you'll need a boarder, with all the repairs you'll be paying for." Xander blushed. He couldn't believe he'd said that, about the moon. Spike was right; he really was a silly little sod. "Okay, then. When do we move?" he asked, grinning. Part Seven "That the last of it?" Spike said, looking around the empty apartment. "Yep. This is the last box. Do you think it's okay for me to be about two seconds away from a very Dawn-like squeal?" "So long as you don't squeal near me," Spike told him, rubbing his ear ruefully. Dawn had been extremely excited when she found out that Xander was moving to his beloved house, and that Spike was going along with him. "Someone's gotta watch him," he'd told Buffy and Giles. "It might as well be me. Plus, he can do all that heavy lifting for me." "No need for squealing anyway with all of that bouncing you're doing. C'mon, in the car, then we can start unpacking." Xander bounded after him, feeling a little like a happy puppy. The drive seemed short as Xander babbled happily to Spike about the home improvement show he'd seen on his lunch break. Spike just nodded and didn't look at all bored, which Xander was grateful for. At the house, Spike helped Xander with the last boxes. Spike's ratty sofa -- which was better then Xander's posh, leather, totally uncomfortable, Anya-picked out sofa -- was already in the area they deemed the living room. Xander collapsed onto it. His knee immediately started jiggling with misplaced energy. "Our house," he said reverently. "It's our house." Spike joined him on the sofa, though the supernatural creature could not be exhausted since, well, supernatural. "It is." There was intense satisfaction in Spike's voice. Xander rolled his head to the side to look at Spike, feeling the tired, happy smile on his face. "Did I tell you thank you, yet?" Shy smile number five of the day. "You did, love. Where do you want to start unpacking first? Or do you want to live out of boxes for a bit while you work?" "Um, the ... kitchen. After we hook up the television and all related appliances. And the bathroom, got to have towels and soap and stuff. And the bedroom, need our sheets and everything." "Just one bedroom, then?" Turning immediately away after asking, Spike headed for the television. "I can hook this up, pet, if you start on the kitchen. Don't know where you want things to be, yeah? And the drawers are crap right now." So saying, he crouched behind the TV already placed reverently on the open-air stand, VCR, cable-box, and DVD player stacked on top of it. The kitchen cabinets were crap. Really, really horrible. New cabinets were high on Xander's list, but he'd need a big enough workshop to make them in. Right, so setting the workshop up came first. Whistling, Xander put down shelf paper -- actually, folded leftover wallpaper of Buffy's, but it made damn good shelf paper -- and put the plates and glasses away. He lined the drawers (the ones that would open, anyway) and sorted the silverware. He had a very happy, cozy nesting feeling when everything was put away, with the coffee maker on the counter right next to a brand spanking new knife set Xander had gotten the other day. Returning to the living room, he found a functional entertainment center, as well as a sofa and several chairs dusted off and arranged neatly. "Which bedroom do w--you want?" Spike asked as he worked to sort through boxes. "I'll start running that stuff up." "The bigger bedroom faces west, I think that's a good idea?" Xander asked, a little nervously. "No, uh, early morning sizzle surprises." He didn't look at Spike when he said it. "Sure." Spike cleared his throat a little, then added, "We'll have to doss on the floor for a few nights. Bed'll take a few days to arrive." Blink. "Bed?" He hadn't wanted to take the bed he shared with Anya here, and Spike's was actually moldy on the inside and a little smelly. So ... what bed? "Uh. I may've, um, ordered some stuff. It'll be here soon." "What about the air mattress? It's a queen, we can sleep on that until ..." He didn't finish the sentence. His heart was pounding a little too fast for complete sentences right then. "Sounds good." Spike disappeared up the stairs. Xander immediately started pumping the air and, yes, jumping up and down like an excited kid. Which worked well, since it was a foot operated pump. He had to remember not to jump too much so he wouldn't break it, but ... yeah. Happiness was an air mattress with your best friend in your brand new house! Air mattress pumped, he headed up the stairs to deliver it to Spike. The bedrooms were just empty rooms, clean since the previous tenant had been scrupulous about that, if too poor to make repairs, and Spike was staring out the western window. "We're gonna need thick blinds, pet. Something heavy enough to block it out. Still, west's better than the eastern one. Don't think frying tomorrow morning's gonna be the best way to wake you up. Speaking of ... " Spike turned a fierce look on him. "Don't forget to set your bloody alarm! You've been late to work the past three days in a row." Xander grinned. "Can't help it if you've worn me out so much every night," he said. Spike had been a real task master with the moving, and they'd spent the past few nights packing and moving everything in the crypt and apartment. Spike snorted and lightly punched his shoulder. "You have a dirty mind, love. Come on, help me get this thing made, yeah? You need to set up that workroom, and you'll be bloody exhausted, since you'll start making drawers or sanding wood for the stairs and you'll blame *me* when the bed's not ready to be slept in." "Not getting started on any of that yet, Spike," Xander said. "Tomorrow's Friday so I can stay up late and do it then, then work Saturday after I have a nice, long morning of sleeping in." Sleeping in your arms, he wanted to say, but ... didn't. "All right. Wanna reward ourselves with successfully moving in, then, with beer and watching TV downstairs?" Spike grinned as he intentionally mocked Willow. She didn't understand that it wasn't just friendship -- at least on Xander's side -- and constantly queried what else they did other then get drunk and watch bad movies. Xander grinned back and nodded. "Yeah. Maybe something machine guns? And helicopters. Nice war movie would make me happy." "Sounds bloody good to me!" Xander sent Spike downstairs while he put some heavy towels over the bedroom windows, then went downstairs. Checking out the movie selection, Xander bypassed the classics and put in something with Chuck Norris. It was full of cheesy dialogue and even worse acting, but that just made Spike's comments even funnier. Xander contented himself with only one beer. They seemed to have a system without really talking or discussing it -- if Xander was drunk, then Spike wasn't, and vice versa. So Xander sipped his two beers while Spike hit four, five, and six while mocking the mullet and Clint-esque voice mercilessly. "Oh, shit, I forgot he says he trained with Tibetan monks in this one," Xander said, giggling and leaning his head on Spike's shoulder. Drunk Spike? Was a really snugly, cuddly Spike. An arm always ended up around his shoulders, or there was hair-playing, or massaging. Not that Xander didn't get these things normally, but they were less nervous when Spike was drunk. Tonight, Spike pulled Xander into the circle of his arms, linked hands rubbing distractedly over Xander's hip. His mouth and nose were pressed into Xander's hair. It was comfy and cosy and pretty much perfect. "This is perfect," Xander said softly. He found himself saying silly, sappy things like that more and more now. It took him a moment to place the soft, smacking sound and the pressure against the back of his head. "Soppy sod." Okay, that? Even perfect-er. Xander smiled happily, closed his eyes, and didn't wake up until morning. He wasn't sure what woke him. Possibly the uncomfortable crick in his neck. Or some sixth-sense he was blessing and promising imminent sacrificage, just as soon as he got Spike away from the un-blinded windows. "Spike, Spike! Sunlight!" Spike popped up with a slightly-hungover curse. "Is the upstairs done?" he asked, watching the way the sunlight crept over the wood floors. "Yes, go!" Spike managed to get upstairs with only a slightly singed foot, which Xander quickly fetched ice for. "I'm sorry," Xander said. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep. You're always taking care of me, and I can't even return the favor? I suck. I'm sorry, shit. You could have been really hurt!" Spike basked in the attention for all of thirty seconds. "Enough, love, enough!" Snatching the ice bag, he applied it to his own foot. "You fell asleep, no harm in that. You woke up in time, s'all I care about." "Yeah, well ... okay. You're okay," Xander said, feeling stupid and still berating himself inwardly. He glanced over at the alarm clock. "And look, I've got an hour before I have to leave! Think I'll just lay down and rest a few minutes." He smiled and stretched out on the air mattress. "Good. I'm goin' back to sleep," Spike said, tugging his pants off and slipping beneath the sheets. Five, four, three, two ... Before he reached 'one', Spike was wrapping himself around Xander like he was the sole source of heat in the room. Which, actually he was. "Have to remember the electric blanket," he said drowsily. "You can always just turn me on, instead," Xander whispered. "Mmmm." Spike snuggled even closer, tugging Xander so he was lying almost on top of Spike's body. "Nice'n warm. Does turning it on make it hotter?" Xander wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears. His breath was threatening to just quit on him altogether. "Dunno. You'd have to find out," he said bravely. Spike writhed below him. It could have just been sleepy stretches, but ... not after saying that. "Challenging me, huh?" Spike murmured. "Careful you don't push too hard, love." But the arms linked behind his back showed no sign of releasing and Spike was smiling. Xander raised himself up just a little to look into Spike's eyes. He was feeling a little dizzy as he nervously wet his lips. Lips. Spike lips, right there. He stared at them for just a minute and then his eyes darted back to Spike's. "Why's that?" Spike voice gained a more serious tone. "Don't wanna mess this up," he said, barely audible. "Me neither," Xander said, just as quietly. "But I want ... " Right after the cool wave of Spike's breath there were Spike's lips. Pressing against his and moving as delicately as a butterfly's wings. Kissing him. It wasn't the fiery, possessive kiss of each and every one of Xander's fantasies. This, somehow, was even better. He could feel every movement, every tiny touch of Spike's lips. It was so surprisingly gentle, but over way too soon. Xander pulled back a little and looked at Spike worriedly. "Is that okay? Not the ... lips, but the ... me and you and lips?" "Yeah. More than." But Spike didn't seem interested in kissing again. When Xander leaned down, Spike brought his hand up, cupping Xander's mouth. "Can it wait, love?" There was a new emphasis on 'love'. "Can we?" Xander felt an instinctive flash of hurt, but it was gone as soon as it came. He understood. More than understood. "I've been waiting for six months for that one kiss, Spike; I don't think I'll have a problem with being patient." If vampires could flush ... Spike dropped his eyes, the only measure of privacy he could have when Xander was lying on top of him. "I've not had friends before," he whispered. "Don't want to lose that." "I know," Xander said, moving off the naked vampire to rest beside him. "But I'm not going anywhere." Spike immediately returned to his cuddly position, head on Xander's chest. "Know you're not, pet. But I've a habit of botching things like that. I don't want to." Kissing his chest, Spike sighed and held a little tighter, a clear sign that Spike was going back to sleep -- and this discussion was over. Xander wrapped his arms around his ... Spike, and smiled happily. Then looked at the clock and realized he had a whole ten minutes to get up, showered, dressed, caffeine fortified, and off to work. He snickered to himself. He'd just have to be a little late again, he thought, bending to kiss the top of Spike's head. The End

Btvs.George
Search: The Web Angelfire Report Abuse « Previous | Top 100 | Next » share: del.icio.us | digg | reddit | furl | facebook George by Lady Cat Mrrrrrrrrrrrrow! Scrisssssssssssss. “Ow! God dammit, ow!” Xander scrambled into the room, crying, “What! What!” Tall and buff with hair a few shades lighter than Xander’s own—helped along by the containers stored underneath the sink and a cap Xander never wanted to see again—Brian twisted his arm up to his mouth. Normally, that was a good sign. The eight bleeding scratch marks weren’t. “That’s so it,” Brian muttered in between sucking. “You hear me? I’m done, Alex.” Xander winced; no matter how many times he corrected it, he was always ‘Alex’. He hated being called Alex. “Er, done with those sheets, because yeah, I’m thinking we need new ones.” Navy blue flannel was slashed to expose white mattress pad underneath. Man, those flannel sheets were expensive too! “You okay?” “No! No, I’m not okay!” Whoever said preppy jocks were the staid type never met Brian. He whined more than Buffy did on her bitchy days. Hell, he whined more than Xander did, and that was just not fair! “Your fucking cat hates me, Alex.” Xander blinked, arms automatically cradling the leaping bit of black fluff that headed towards his chest. “Bri, George doesn’t hate you.” Snuggling down contentedly, George began washing his paws, totally certain that he wouldn’t be dropped. Which he wouldn’t be. Not if Xander valued his toes un-punctured. “He’s just testy if you wake him up to early. See? You overturned his bed when you got up.” Brian glared at him, not even looking down at the little bed Xander had painstakingly found for his picky cat, now battered with a tiny bit of down peaking through a seam. “My name is not ‘Bri’,” he said, nose in the air. “It’s Brian. And if you’d move its stupid bed, I wouldn’t trip on it. Anyway, I didn’t this time. He just attacked me!” Uh huh. Xander bit his lip, carefully not mentioning that George only liked his bed a certain way—otherwise he slept on Xander’s head—and that he knew for damned sure the bed hadn’t sported a foot-indentation when he’d left the room twenty minutes earlier. Plus, it hadn’t been on its side then, either. “I’m really sorry, Brian,” he said instead. “Here, why don’t I put him outside and make it up to you.” Wounded prima-donna boyfriend was not interested in the patented Xander Harris apology-fuck. Brian sniffed and folded his arms. Xander quailed; sniffing and arm-folding was a bad sign. Years of training by Buffy and Willow had taught him that. He tensed, knowing that it was going to be bad. “You love that cat more than me, Xander,” Brian pouted. Oh god. “No, I don’t.” “Yes you do!” All he needed was foot stomping, and Brian would be a ten year old Dawn in a snit. It wasn’t a good comparison. “You never care about me, just what George needs. When we go shopping, it’s what would George like? Is this brand of cat-food good? Would George like this toy?” Pouting the soft, blow-job lips Xander had fallen for, Brian actually sniffled. “When you asked me to move in, Alex, you had to ask George first.” “Wha—well, he was here already!” Xander spluttered. “I mean, he’s kind of like a roommate too and he needs lots of space or he gets really—” Yeah, that really wasn’t helping his case. Okay, time to pull out the big guns—puppy dog eyes and scrunching his body done until he looked smaller than Brian. “Look, I don’t know why George doesn’t like you, but we—we’ll figure it out, okay? I promise we will.” “No. No, I’m not going to let you do this to me again, Alex Harris.” Dear god, was he going to wave his hand now? His voice had already gone really falsetto which was not helping his standing in the Closest To Dawn In A Snit contest. Or maybe it was? “I’m sorry, but we’re done. I’m not going to take second place to a cat. Especially one named after George Lucas! I mean, come on, Alex.” Gay-boy in a tear vanished into preppy-boy being preppy and snottily superior. Xander hated that. “You don’t have to be a geek anymore.” Low. Blow. Any concern Xander might’ve had vanished. “Hey! I happen to like being a geek!” Brian sniffed again. “I know. Loser.” And that was pretty much that. Several hours later, the partially moved-in Brian was out of the apartment and out of Xander’s life. Windows open to try and air out the smell of burned ego—remarkably like Obsession for men or whatever it was Brian regularly dunked himself in—Xander sat on the sofa, petting a curled up George in his lap. “Great. Just great. You know, I thought coming out would make it easier. No more miserable failures for the Xand-man, cause now he’s batting for the right team and he’s gonna smack one right out of the park!” George meowed and flopped onto his side, radiating long-suffering patience. No one could do long-suffering patience like a cat. “Oh, no, you don’t get to pull that on me, Mr. Really Evil Cat. Don’t you think I’m not up on what you’re doing. First Howard with the constant jumping, then Keith with the face-butting just to make his rash come out, and now Brian with the scratching? You are an evil, evil kitty and you’re ruining my love life!” His eyes narrowed even though his hand never stopped. “I bet you’re really an anti-cupid demon in disguise.” George rolled back over to blink up at him. “Oh, fine, you’re not. Or, you know, if you are, please don’t tell me. While I’d really like my pet to be non-demonic, I’m okay with denial. But you are still evil.” That part George, of course, agreed with. He was a cat. Sighing, Xander petted until he was totally relaxed, regarding the lamp-light yellow eyes that stared right back at him. “You know what the really sad part is, George? I don’t know if I should chuck you out or thank you.” George blinked slowly, tail twitching in a cat-grin. Everything was going perfectly, as far as he was concerned. Now that Always Screeches And Kicks was gone, it was time for George to make his move. Cats were so good at chess. * * * * “Hey, where’s your latest boytoy?” Plopping herself down on the floor, Buffy started going through his CD collection. “And what happened to all the Cher? And the. . . wow. Xander, do you know there’s mostly hard rock bands here, now? I’m ignoring the country, because country music does not exist. But there’re no Techno Now! mixes! Or—or—” her limited interested in music not played at the Bronze failed her, and she went back to stereotyping. “My god, what happened to all the glitz and glam?” “Glam-rock is something entirely different,” Willow said from the couch. “The whole eighties big-hair stuff? That’s glam rock. What you’re talking about, Buffy, is the dance-club sparkly stuff.” Trapped in the kitchen, Xander glanced down at his feet. “Go distract them. Please. They’re discussing music. My music.” George stared at him disdainfully before sauntering into the living room, tail high in the air. Two squeals could be heard as George completed his mission successfully, leaving Xander free to finish cutting up the veggies and check on the lasagna baking in the oven. The bread wouldn’t go in for another twenty minutes, so he was good. He’d discovered he actually liked cooking from Jason, who would forever be known as the First Official Boyfriend. Jason had loved to cook and had infused at least an appreciation of it in Xander before a new job had forced him to move across the country. Sometimes he wondered if—nah. Grabbing his platter of veggies and dip, Xander headed back out into scary land: two girls, on the hunt for gossip. What he found, however, was one girl petting a thoroughly satisfied cat and another putting a CD into the player. “Snacks, ladies? Freshly bought from Whole Foods.” “You know, of all the really ‘gay’ things I thought you’d pick up,” Buffy said as she popped a carrot into her mouth, “this whole health-food obsession was never one of them.” “We all can’t have Slayer metabolism,” was all he said. Settling on the sofa next to Willow, he pouted at his cat. His cat looked up at him and didn’t move one iota away from Willow’s hand. “If you steal my cat I’m going to be very upset with you.” Instead of Willow’s normal rejoinder—usually something about how they didn’t need little Miss Kitty Fantastico’s—she glanced over at Buffy. Way too much significance in that look, thank you. “So another one bit it, huh?” she asked. “Bit it? No one bit anyone, Wills.” The soft strains of early R.E.M. filled the room, piano crying a lonesome song. “There may have been, um, some hissing, though. Also scratching. And bleeding.” “I knew it!” Tucking herself into the corner on Xander’s other side, Buffy nearly bounced as she waited for the good stuff. ‘Waiting’ lasted about two minutes before she prompted, “So Brian’s gone?” “Brian is indeed gone. We had the final blow-out last weekend.” More significant looks. These bordered on triumphant. “I’m so sorry, Xan.” “Liar. Friendly liar, but still, liar. You didn’t like him anymore than George did.” “Well he was kinda high-maintenance,” Buffy put in. “Brian, not George. Cats are always high maintenance. Anyway, you know if I’m claiming someone’s high maintenance. . .” Her arch look spoke volumes. No, wait, it was the leading quality in her voice that spoke volumes. Or both. Plus the words. “He wasn’t good for you, Xan.” “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Xander sighed, trying to keep his hands in his lap. Stupid celery always getting caught in his teeth. “He was high-maintenance, he wanted to turn me into something I’m not, he wanted me to hang out with you guys less, and it was just bad. Well, no, the sex was pretty—” “Xander!” “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He’s gone in a righteous snit and I am going to wine and dine the two most important ladies in my life.” Grinning, he didn’t even need to hold up his arms before he had two girls tucked against his shoulders and a cat warming his lap. The smell of cooking lasagna and melting garlic butter completed the moment and Xander was feeling pretty damned good. Brian’s leaving hadn’t been heartbreaking—hell, not even his dick missed Brian and those fabulous lips that much. “So, who wants to help me butter the bread?” Willow wrinkled her nose up at him. “If that’s an innuendo, Xander.” “It’s pretty lame, considering I’m the one you can dish about guys with,” Buffy laughed. Pecking him on the cheek, she stood up and held her hand out to him. “Speaking of, bestest guy friend of mine who helps me vet my choices, when do you go back on the hunt?” Yanked onto his feet, Xander’s withering look glanced right off Buffy’s bouncily swinging hair. “Hunt? No, no, no. You misconstrue the patented Xand-man method of getting guys. It starts by going out to the one and only gay-friendly club in town. There, I will order myself a drink and sit at a table all by myself. People then come up to me and feed me a wide variety of cheesy lines. The cheesier the line, the more likely I’ll actually go dance with him or drink a beer with him. There is no hunting. I am the hunted.” “Xander, that’s not really a good strategy.” Tossing the salad to mix the dressing, Willow set it out on the table and moved to uncork the wine. “Not gonna give you the safety lecture again, I promise, Xan, but. . . don’t you want to actually look? Maybe meet someone you like, instead of someone who thinks you’re cute or thinks shy-boys are a turnon?” Saying ‘but it worked for you’ was probably going to get him rightfully slapped by Buffy and turned into a toad by Willow. “Hey! I’m already cute and I can’t help it if they think I’m shy!” His girls were not impressed. Dammit, time to be serious. He didn’t want to be serious. The garlic bread sizzled as it slid under the broiler. “Guys, let me worry about my love-life, okay? I’ve done pretty okay so far, Brian the walking stereotype dipped in Gap aside. He wasn’t a bad guy, you know, just. . . not right for me. That’s all.” “Well, then,” Buffy said firmly. Picking up George, she cuddled him for a moment—Xander owed him a great deal of treats for that, according to the face George wore—and then placed him in the living room, away from the food. “We’ll just have to find a guy who is right for you.” George meowed agreeably. Xander quailed. * * * * “A month. It’s been a month!” Xander forced the lock open, almost falling into his apartment. “Hey, lemmego. I’m not drunk.” The disbelieving snort was the greatest kitty-call there was: George streaked through the apartment to the tune of tiny thuds of his tiny feet, skidding to a halt by black boots and meowing anxiously. “Nuh fair,” Xander slurred. “George likes you better’n me.” “That cat is devil-spawn. ’Course he likes me. And oi, that’s not the ground you’re tryin’ to walk on, you inebriated lummox. Come ’ere.” Really strong hands yanked him upright before he could try and walk on the not-ground, half-carrying him over to the sofa. He landed with an oof that made his stomach churn, but thankfully everything remained where it was supposed to. “Not gonna upchuck, are you?” He had to laugh at that, except he kept laughing way longer than he meant to. “No, I’m not going to upchuck. I’m just going to stay here until the floor stops moving, ’k? Y’can go now, Spike.” Spike, crouched so he could see Xander’s face, snorted again. George couldn’t run to him, being already there, but he did do little kitty jumps of joy. Or maybe that was hunger. Wait. Did he feed George today? Xander struggled upright, only to be pushed back down again. “Where do you think you’re goin’, eh?” “George!” George looked at him, sniffed, and went back to butting Spike’s boots. “Your cat’s right here, imbecile. And why’d you name the blighter George, anyway? Harvey’s a much better name.” “Harvey?” Spike gave him a cross-eyed look. “Harvey. Big pink bunny Harvey?” Xander looked cross-eyed right back at him. “One day, I’m gonna grab all the Jimmy Stewart I can find and lock you in, you mark my words.” “Jimmy Stewart? Was he the one in the wife beater that wore eyeliner?” Huh. Apparently giving a perfectly legitimate answer made Spike goggle at him. He checked for two heads growing out of his shoulders, just in case: Hellmouth; you never really knew. But no, no two heads, and Spike was still goggling and looking down right disturbed. “Spike?” “You were saying somethin’ about a month?” he said in a strangled voice. “Lets talk about that, shall we? What’s been a month?” Energy flooded his system as Xander remembered why he was so pissed—the angry way, not the drunk way, except he was that, too—and he sat back up again. “Her! Both hers! Those evil conniving she-devils!” “Um?” “Buffy and Willow! It’s been a month! Every weekend I’m out where they tell me to go, wearing what they tell me to wear, and I go because they’re trying to help which is good and accepting and stuff but oh, my god! Their taste in men is appalling!” “We’ll Buffy’s is. I knew that already,” Spike said, smarmy grin firmly in place. “But—wait, that’s what you’ve been doing whenever I see you out, lately? Lettin’ the Slayer, with her crap taste in men, and Red who doesn’t even like men, set you up?” Throwing himself against the back of the sofa with a groan, Xander nodded. “Buffy and Willow find guys and vet them during the week. Then I get to meet them. So far, I’ve met a guy who was so geeky he thought George’s name was too prosaic—his words—and something from the Battlestar Galactica oeuvre was much cooler, a giant block of tofu, a jock who was in to backroom activities I don’t want or need, especially when they come in baggies, and a guy who makes high school freshman Willow look like Chatty Miss Cathy!” “Er. Oh. Sounds rough?” Hey. Xander knew that voice. Forcing his eyes open, he tried to make them glare. He wasn’t quite sure he succeeded, but he still. “Don’t patronize me.” “Fucking hell, I’m not, all right?” Sounding truly aggrieved, Spike left Xander on the couch and started rummaging around his refrigerator. Xander heard the can opener whirl—ooo, nice Spike, feeding George for him!—and the microwave run. That was weird. Why was Spike running the microwave? Xander couldn’t figure it out until Spike came back with two mugs. One held the richly enticing aroma of crappy instant coffee. The other held blood. “Hey, is the otter working out?” he babbled. “I heard that it tasted better than pig, so I thought maybe mix it up? Since pig is closest to human, chemically. Um, it is, right? And erk. I shouldn’t have thought of that. Herbert.” “You say the strangest bloody things when you’re drunk, Harris. An’ yeah, the otter tastes fine.” Spike sounded weird when he said that, but fortunately, Xander was too drunk to care. “Think you didn’t feed Mr. Big Head before you left, either, the way he was whining at me.” “Oh, he just likes you. And—wait a minute.” Mmm, coffee. Gradually the room wasn’t spinning anymore. “Mr. Big Head?” Maybe he was drunker than he thought? Because Xander was pretty sure Spike was grinning at him. Not smirking or sneering or being a poseur asshole. He was grinning, the way two friends would, and hell, this one was even kind of sheepish. Spike! Sheepish! Oh, he was really, really drunk. “George as in George Lucas, right? Him who thinks he’s got the right to destroy the classics, just cause he had the idea for ’em?” Wow. Spike understood a geek reference. The world was probably ending soon. Fortunately, Xander’s body chose to hasten that doomsday, forcing him into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was Spike yelping about coffee. When he woke up, he was tucked under the blankets of his own bed, George curled up by his shoulder, purring mightily. “Why’re you so happy?” he demanded. His tongue felt wrapped in old socks already and Xander was pretty sure he hadn’t even reached the hangover stage yet. He was still too drunk to be hung over. “Hey, where’d Spike go?” “Spike is still here,” came from the living room. “Sun’s near up, so you’ve got me for the rest of the day. Go sleep it off.” Xander didn’t sleep it off. Instead, he crawled out of the bed to find he was dressed only in his boxers and there was a tall glass of water leaking condensation onto a magazine he’d thought he’d thrown away already. Wait, he probably had, since it was all crinkled like that. Did Spike fish it out of the trash? Weird. Drinking down most of it—mmmm, water! complete with Ralph Wiggum’s voice—Xander tugged on a pair of sweats and stumbled his way over to the sofa. “Hi,” he said when he was finally sitting down. Spike’d had to help him get his butt on the sofa and not the floor. “Why’re you here?” Something in Spike’s eyes went frigidly cold, blowing icy winds against Xander’s naked chest. “Sick of me already?” “No, wondering why you bothered to walk me home. Since, as we all know, you hate my ass.” Spike stared at him. “Oh, right, look wounded, you big liar-man. It’s what you said the last time you went patrolling the same time I did. And I quota, ‘Make sure you don’t pair me up with carpenter-boy, I hate his droopy ass’. So, since you hate my droopy ass when it’s not trying to fall out from under me, why’d you help me home?” “You know, you don’t sound drunk anymore.” The coldness was gone. Xander counted that as a win, not that he knew what he was winning or losing. “I’m drunk. Trust me. If I wasn’t, I’d be all avoidy and just obsess about it for a while.” Another honest-be-to-god Spike smile, this one amused and kinda shy. Freaky. Also, deaky. “Saw you about to take a header into the guy built like a mac-truck. Figured I’d earn goody-goody points walking you home.” A familiar purring sound made Xander glance down. “Huh. George likes you. Weird.” “Er, why’s that weird? He’s a good cat.” Long fingers—wow, really white—scritched the spots at the back of George’s ears that made him turn into kitty-goo. “Like him just fine.” “See, George doesn’t like guys,” Xander explained. He knew he’d side-stepped Spike’s explanation, but he wasn’t sure what he felt about it, so distractions and two-stepping were good things. “Girls he likes fine. Um. Most of the time. If I tell him he has to. But guys he really really doesn’t like, unless it’s me or Giles.” “And how’ve you come to this conclusion?” “Well, there was the lady at the pet store that was surprised George took to me,” Xander recited, ticking off a finger per name. “Then there was Darren. And Howard, and Keith, and Brian, and oh, there was a Mark in there somewhere too.” He squinted, trying to think. “And maybe a Timmy? And then a whole bunch of guys that the Buffy and Willow Matching Making Team keep telling me to bring home, which I do sometimes. I brought home Steve for a few hours, I think.” He paused, suddenly, struck by something. “Oh, my god. I hook up with boringly-named people. It’s a curse! It’s retribution to being friends with people named for trees and British stuffiness and whatever the hell created ‘Buffy’. Save me!” Head buried in his hands, Xander didn’t have to see to know Spike was goggling at him. He was surprised about the laughing, though. Usually Spike sounded way more mocking when he did that. “Seven plus blokes? What’re you running, a youth hostel?” “Huh?” That made no sense in Xander’s head. “No, I slept with all of them. Well, not sleep-sleep. We didn’t make it to the bed a couple of times.” Silence. Really booming silence because George had even stopped purring. Melodrama loving evil cat. “You what?” Xander lifted his head to free one eye to see Spike’s face. Wow. So that’s what pole-axed vampire looked like. “I’m gay,” he annunciated slowly. “You did know that, right?” No, obviously, he didn’t, because Spike pushed George off his lap and twirled his duster around to settle it over his shoulders within fifteen seconds of Xander saying the words. “Gotta be off.” “What—wait! Sunrise! Oh, come on Spike, I’m not gonna jump you in your sleep!” Doorway half open, Spike paused long enough to half-turn back towards him. “Not worried about that, mate. Just. . . didn’t know you were sleepin’ with them, is all.” And then he vanished, the door shutting with a little click behind him. “Well, shit!” Xander looked down at George, who was looking smug. Really, really smug. “You know what that was about, don’t you?” George looked inscrutable and mysterious. “Fine, right, don’t ask you. I know better. Okay, I’m going to bed and I’ll deal with huffy vampire tomorrow. Still don’t know why he’s upset. I know he knew I was gay. And that, hello, I don’t jump anyone who doesn’t want to be jumped!” Still grumbling, Xander completely missed George’s expression. That probably saved him some unmitigated terror. Calculation on a tiny kitty face was never a good thing. Neither was extreme satisfaction, and right now, George was extremely satisfied. * * * * Doorbell. Doorbell? Why was the doorbell ringing? Confused, Xander opened the door. “Hey, you know I never lock it for—Buffy. And Willow!” Uh oh. “Hi?” Two girls, two identical expressions and crossed arms. Bad expressions. The coldly disappointed, you-stupid-male-you-fucked-up expressions. Crap. “Brad just called,” Buffy explained curtly. “He said you canceled on him. That’s the second week in a row, Xander!” “I. . . am really tired lately and very sorry?” Two eyebrows arched, mouths pursed into thin little buttons of displeasure. “Oi, didn’t tell me we were inviting others, Harris. I’d’ve told Clem to join.” Xander glared. “No, we are not inviting others, Spike. I mean, okay, we could, but not tonight, please? We’ll hang out with Clem tomorrow night.” He could hear synapses burning as the girls followed Spike into his apartment, coming to all kinds of wacky conclusions. Not that reality was any less wacky—there was last week to consider. Xander still didn’t know what Spike had been doing bent over like that. Or why George had been watching him do it so intently. Or why he had. “Xander? Um, why is Spike here?” “Because he brought the movies tonight?” Yeah, Willow obviously wasn’t playing like that, the way two lines appeared between her eyebrows. She’d already figured it out. Buffy just looked confused. “You dumped my choice of date for Spike?” Her voice said she clearly did not understand. “Ladies, ladies, as much as I love how interested you are in my love-life,” hey, look, no sarcasm even! “It’s got to stop. You guys pick the worst dates.” “Hey!” On the couch, already pawing through the bags of chips and feeding them to George—Spike was so cleaning up the inevitable puke—Spike laughed. “You tell ’em about whatshisname? The one who wanted to eat you before I found out where the hell he’d taken you?” Xander grinned at their blushing. “Ha! I wish Spike meant they way you two pervs are obviously thinking. Nuh uh. You, you fabulous ladies, set me up with a Vir’na demon. You know, the ones Giles warned us about recently? Looks human, weird tastes in prey. . .?” Willow caught on first, eyes widening to flying-saucer size. “Oh, god. We didn’t.” “You really did. Oh, stop looking so stricken. Gary didn’t do anything to me—hell, before Spike finished beating the tar out of him, he swore he only wanted a taste, nothing fatal or damaging or anything. I really took it as a compliment.” Buffy was in Slayer Position One—arms crossed, legs spread, serious expression—looking between him and Spike and back again. “You’re really okay? I’m so sorry, Xander.” He hugged her, forcing her out of Slayer Position and back into Best Friend Two—guilty and sheepishly smiley since forgiveness was assured—kissing her forehead with a loud smack. “Relax. Did you miss the mention of Spike and tar-beating? He almost killed the guy.” “Only reason I didn’t is cause you’re too faint of sodding heart.” “He wasn’t gonna hurt me, Spike.” “Just cause he said that in the middle of being beaten up—” “And what the hell was that pat-down afterwards for, huh? With you all glowery and bloody and getting me all bloody? Also, I’ve told you before. If you don’t stop feeding my cat potato chips I’m going to hold him above you and shake.” “’Cept then I’ll never bring you movie and beer again, will I? What with me never coming here to see you and your projectile vomit again.” “Eh, we’ll just have to meet at the Bronze all the time, then, where the pool tables live.” “Speakin’ of, you’re game for Sunday, right? Clem’s got a buddy he wants trounced. Figure I pair him up with you and he’s gonna lose for sure.” “Oh, ha bloody ha.” “Okay!” Willow’s brightly cheerful voice reminded Xander that people other than Spike were in his home. He sometimes had a problem remembering that. “Um, so we’re just gonna go. Away. And leave you two to the movie watching.” “Right!” Buffy’s head nodded like one of those bobble-headed dolls, with the big glassy eyes. And why was she clutching Willow’s arm like that? She wasn’t still upset about the sex-demon, because hello, Xander was fine. “Going. That’s us. Going now. Er, Will? When was Gary again?” “Two months ago,” Willow said out of the corner of her mouth. “Maybe closer to three. Lets just go, okay? Wig later.” “Wigging later. Going now. Check.” Raising her voice, like they hadn’t actually heard her aside, she waved brightly and said, “Bye Xander! Bye Spike! You two, um, have fun? Fun! Lots of fun! Safe fun.” She gave a speaking look to Spike. He gave her a cock-eyed ‘you’re insane’ look back. Except then he smiled. “Guys? You can stay if you want. We’re gonna order a pizza and watch Night of the Living Dead again. You really are welcome.” This time, the identical looks exchanged were of extreme terror. “Nothankswe’regoingnowbye!” The door banged behind their fleeing footsteps, George hissing in their wake. “Yeah,” Xander said to the door. “I don’t get it either. Thoughts?” Spike shrugged. It was a. . . speaking shrug, but for all they were hanging out almost every day now, Xander still couldn’t read all of Spike’s unspoken words yet. “Birds just bein’ birds. Order the pizza. Hey, you get that deer blood I wanted?” “I did, and if you make a mess on my counter again, I’m going to make you lick it up.” “Promises, promises.” Spike grinned, tucking his hands behind his head and kicking off his boots. Comfy vampire. Mm. Wait, no, bad thoughts. Xander knew those were bad thoughts and he had to stop thinking them. He would, too. Any time now. Anytime when Spike’s shirt wasn’t riding up to expose a tiny bit of belly and a trail of surprisingly light colored hair running downward. Mm. Bad! Hurriedly dialing the pizza place they favored, he ordered an extra-large deep dish with onions, pineapple, and spicy barbeque chicken. George watched him the entire time, head cocked, tail twitching languidly. “What?” George didn’t move. “What!” “Harris, who the hell’re you talking to?” Xander tossed a mug filled with a deer-something mix into the microwave. He always had blood on hand now—very useful, since Spike dropped in at the weirdest hours, whether or not Xander was home. Not that Xander minded. There was something kind of nice to come home to find Spike already there. “George. He’s looking at me.” “S’what cats do.” Spike’s voice grew closer, the vampire himself appearing and leaning against the kitchen counter. “Just stare an’ stare till us lowly servants do whatever it is they’re wanting.” George agreed, since he jumped up onto the counter, totally certain that Spike would pet and scratch him. Which Spike did. “See?” “I still don’t get why George likes you. Really, he’s insanely picky.” “Oh, two of us have an agreement goin’. He understands certain things, and I don’t make it a point of runnin’ him out of here.” Xander laughed, because it was probably supposed to be a joke. He wasn’t sure what the funny parts were, though. “You’re not getting rid of my cat, Spike. He’s my cat.” “Yeah. But I trust me, if I wanted him gone, he would be.” “Oh yeah?” Xander folded his arms over his chest. “Just how would you convince me to get rid of George, not that I’m going to.” “Course you’re not. Don’t want him gone, like I said.” Spike’s body did a slithery predatory thing as he came closer to Xander. “He and I got an understanding going.” “A what?” Laughing harder only sounded forced but hey, there was weird viby-ness going on! And Spike hadn’t stopped moving, yet. “You’re crazy, crazy-vampire. First you say you can get rid of him, but you don’t want to, and—what?” Close! Really close! Like arms on either side of Xander, personal-space in serious violation, wow Spike’s eyes were so dark close. “Xander. Shut up.” One very, very long kiss later, Xander knew how many teeth Spike had and that he tasted spring-rain clean, and that his tongue was wicked and clever enough to require hours and hours of study. Years. Decades, even. “Still don’t understand.” “You will.” * * * * When the buzzer sounded, George pondered the door thoughtfully. He wouldn’t lower himself to procure food for his human, and he was fairly certain the vampire would get testy if he was disturbed just then. Not that a testy vampire was something to bother George—they’d already had that particular war over spilled blood on the counters and floors and the way George had already lost all but two of his preferred sunning spots—but displaying dominance right now was only going to confuse George’s poor human. Better to wait. He’d remind the vampire who was truly in control later. From the bedroom, laughter turned into moans. Not quite as interesting as the yowls lady cats sometimes gave off, but George was too busy thinking finally to worry—again—about why he didn’t chase those interesting yowls. Getting his human into a position to see the vampire’s attraction had been difficult. It had almost involved work from George, real work instead of just chasing the unsuitable males away. The vampire could be so shy sometimes, really! Unbecoming in a creature cats knew to be lesser copies of their own superior selves. He’d nearly bitten the vampire when his human shooed the female humans who scratched correctly out of George’s home. But now all was well. No more insufferably annoying human males—except George’s personal human, of course—traipsing in and out of his domain, bothering George’s routines and making his human miserable. Now everything was perfect. Of course, opposable thumbs would be nice. Can openers were just impossible without them. It had to be a human plot to prevent cat-kind from total take-over. When the phone started ringing, George very deliberately kicked the hand-set off its cradle, nudging it under a pillow so the constant drone would be muffled. He was enjoying the noises from the bedroom very much and didn’t want anything to disturb his listening pleasure. In fact, he’d probably go in later and maybe see if the visuals were as good as the audio. But later. His human deserved some privacy. George wasn’t out to be cruel, after all. His human took good care of him, and the vampire knew the proper ways to keep George content, one reason why George had supported his desire when the vampire first made it known—well, known to George. George’s human was so dense. Not anywhere near as intelligent as a cat. There were those opposable thumbs, though. George just wanted one of them. It really was just not fair. Stretching mightily, George wandered into the bedroom to watch. It was passably entertaining, but he was more interested in what would happen after the groaning and thumping stopped—there was a spot right between those bodies, warm and cool and perfect, that had his name on it. Just like everything else. The End