Spikeslashfic #2
Apr. 3rd, 2004 02:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essene_backupWritten for: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rubywisp
Pairing: Xander/Spike
Requirements: Smut, a mention of Tara. No chocolate, "whelp" or death.
Rating: NC-17
AN: This fic suprised me with where it went. So...I hope it all worked out okay.
“You’re a great bloody git.” Spike smacked Xander on the back of the head.
“Ow! Hey! I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna do that anymore!” Xander rubbed his scalp absently and turned to look at the vampire behind him.
Uh-oh. He’s really pissed. What did I do? Xander ran through the catalogue of things: Favorite mug washed? Check. Wheetabix purchased? Check. Heineken in the fridge? Check. Lube? Check. Cable bill paid? Check. All bases covered, so what’s with the smacking?
“What was that for?” Xander stared at the vamp incredulously.
“How could you forget?” The scarred brow was rapidly descending from arch to scowl.
“Forget what? I didn’t forget anything!” A tingling sensation passed through Xander’s groin and a faint whisper of memory teased his ass. The last time he had forgotten something, Spike had ensured it would never happen again…
“Have you checked the calendar? Did you even see the date? Do you even care about a single sodding thing other than your own arse?” Spike was stalking towards him now, eyes flashing from yellow to blue faster than a candle’s flicker. Fear began to coil in Xander’s chest.
When Spike had nearly reached him, his arm shot out to grab something off the wall behind Xander. Xander nearly crumpled with relief when Spike shoved the calendar in his face.
“Look at the date you stupid sod.”
Xander’s eyes dropped to the calendar--A hard won concession: a 7 of 9 calendar, this month looking particularly stacked, even though her clothes never changed. Maybe it was the angle? He quickly shifted his focus to the dates when a menacing growl emanated from the form behind the calendar-- May 7. Oh god. Oh god. He had forgotten. He’d totally forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Shit.
His eyes flew up to Spike’s face like frightened birds, “I’m sorry,” He barely managed a whisper, “I…I don’t know how I could have…I’m sorry.”
****************
Spike dipped his head to Xander’s nipple and sucked hard. Xander moaned and bucked his pelvis up, jabbing the tip of his cock firmly into Spike’s stomach, searching for friction, suction, a grip, anything to ease the throbbing ache. The stolid pleasure-pain that shot through his dick when it touched the vampire’s hard abdomen was almost enough, but he was forbidden from release. The tight leather clamp at the base of his phallus and around his balls, made sure that his ache continued, taking him from apex to plateau, from apex to plateau over and over and over…
So far he’d been rimmed, kissed, sucked off, spanked, fingered, frottaged, fucked, and licked to within an inch of his life. He was a quivering mess of sweaty flesh and shattered need. He’d begged, pleaded, cajoled, wagered, bartered, promised, threatened and cried for release and been denied with a smirk every time. A smirk and a soft kiss, every damn time. Please…a kiss, I’ll do anything…a kiss, Your ass is ash…a kiss.
Now he was nearly sobbing. He needed to be freed, needed to let go; needed to find the glorious bliss that Spike was denying him. "I’ll be good, I promise, I’ll never, ever, ever…" He babbled as Spike drew his erection between soft lips into the slick of his mouth, to be further teased by a mercilessly talented tongue. A slim finger worked its way in and out of his ass, pressing firmly over his prostate in time with the cool suction of the vamp’s mouth.
Then they were both gone. The mind numbing suction and the mind swirling pressure. His eyes flew open searching wildly for Spike, his hips arching, buttocks clenching as if trying to follow or find their master. “Spike, please…” His voice was foreign, its timber broken and shaky. A blur of white and his ass was filled, legs barely parted enough to make room for narrow hips and thrusting pelvis. Xander screamed when a cruel fist crushed his sensitized member.
And then it was over, the clamp was gone and he was screaming and shaking and spasaming uncontrollably until he sunk into a black haze.
He came to crying. Great heaving sobs. He longed to turn on his side and assume the fetal position but the cuffs prevented it. The bastard still hadn’t let him go. He stared blearily at the lean form at the side of the bed, turned his head to look at the implacable, sculpted being who stood there, while the tears slid over the bridge of his nose and ran down to dampen the pillow.
Crossed arms. Stoic face. Burning eyes.
It came in a whispering flood, “I’m sorry. God Spike, I’m so sorry.” He repeated it again and again, each time more broken than the last. Finally, he moved.
The bed only gave slightly as he put a knee on the bed and reached across Xander’s spent body to unlock the cuffs holding his right arm and then his right ankle. Then Spike quietly stood again to unlock the left ones as well.
Exhausted and shaking, he fell asleep in Spike’s arms murmuring, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…”
He never forgot their anniversary again.
**********
This time though, it was worse. It wasn’t their anniversary, it wasn’t a birthday. It was a death day.
Hers.
The only one who had known and who hadn’t spoken a word. Who hadn’t judged or condemned. Just gave her silent reassurance that it was all right.
Tara.
She’d come upon them in the training room. Xander on his knees sucking Spike off while he stripped his own cock with a furiously paced fist. Cleared her throat even, just to let them know they were no longer alone. But didn’t leave. Spike said later he’d always known that Glinda had more under her skirts and in her head than sweetness and flowers.
Xander had flicked his eyes over to see her standing there, wide eyed and breathless, and though he knew he should stop, should get out of this debauched situation, he was too far gone to care. All he knew was that he wanted her to see, wanted her eyes on them while he swallowed Spike’s thick cock and cool seed, wanted her to watch as he shot his own load all over the brick wall between Spike’s legs. See how wanton, hot and fucking amazing it was when he and Spike were together. How powerful it was. How real.
They came together, both of their eyes on her: Spike with a growl, Xander with a stifled moan. Xander slid up Spike’s body, tucking him away and doing up his zipper before tending to himself. Then he curled into Spike’s open arm and leaned into the wall, both of them waiting for her reaction.
She came forward. Eyes still wide, but now with lust and approval. Her rosebud mouth parted, full breasts heaving, nostrils flaring--drinking in the scent of their release. Xander almost thought she would touch them, kiss them, join them. He longed for it, and felt Spike’s low rumbling approval pass through his body, knowing he wanted it too.
But she stopped a few feet away. Raised her hand and murmured soft words and made graceful movements with her forearm and fingers. A rush passed over Xander brought by a sweet breeze of….rosemary?
Tara dropped her hand and smiled, showing her heart as she spoke, “They won’t know. Not until you’re ready.”
She turned, looking more feminine and sexual than Xander had ever seen her. A wise, understanding goddess, trapped in human form. She disappeared out the doorway just as Spike’s mouth descended on his, his tongue tracing Xander’s lips lightly before saying, “It’s a great gift she’s given us. Lovely bird.”
“How do you mean?” It still hadn’t sunk in exactly what had happened.
“A spell, you daft prick. She’s made it so we can keep together. No interference. At least not ‘til we decide.”
Xander looked into those sparkling blue eyes and understanding hit him. No more need to sneak. No feeling guilty or ashamed during meetings. No more fist clamped tight around his heart. For the first time in weeks he felt that he could breathe again.
“She’s a good girl.” Xander pressed a light kiss to the lips that were so close.
“That she is, mate. That she is.”
******************
Xander caught Spike’s enraged face between rough palms. “I’ll make this right. I will.”
“Bloody right you will, mate.” Spike spat the words at Xander in disgust. “She’s the reason for all this, right? Why I’m not dust in the wind, why you’re not pariah-boy, why we’re together at all.” He emphasized this last with fierce jabs to the man’s chest.
Xander winced at each unforgiving press of Spike’s index finger and then quietly breathed, “At all?”
The vampire’s eyes flashed a brief yellow and his fangs bared as he gritted his jaw in response to the defeated sound of the question.
“Times like this you drive me to say ‘Yes,’ but fuck me, it’s not the truth. You know it’s not, you giant git.” His voice dropped as he rumbled gruffly, “I’d be with you no matter what.”
Spike hooked a previously violent finger under Xander’s chin and drew the man’s head up. Brown eyes skittered over Spike’s features just before the demon crushed full, blood warm lips with his own.
Xander’s body sank into Spike’s, relief loosening tense muscles, leaving him limp and draped as fluidly as the duster on the vampire’s compact frame.
“Doesn’t mean we’re right now, me not bashing your skill in here. Or my letting you hang on me.”
Xander nodded mutely into the curve of Spike’s neck. Then he pulled back putting strong hands on sharp shoulders. “I have just the thing. Come on…”
He strode to the door, grabbed the car keys from the tray on the table and exited the apartment, heedless of whether or not Spike was following.
Sighing in resignation, the vampire followed his human.
**********
“….so you see, Tara, thanks to you, it’s all okay now.”
Xander stopped speaking and looked at Spike, the vampire’s mood intelligible, save for the slight clenching of his jaw. Xander was familiar with that now, that small sign that a chord had been struck within his dead heart. He let his eyes wander to the rest…the semi-circle of humanity that surrounded Tara’s grave.
Dawn was grinning at him crazily, Anya stood beside Giles with a contemplative look while he intently wiped his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Andrew stood next to Giles gazing broken-heartedly at the two of them--vampire and human, eyes darting back and forth as if desperate for some small hope. Willow had tears streaking down her face while her lower lip trembled and her hand clenched Buffy’s tightly. Xander took his time bringing his eyes to Buffy’s face, hers was the expression that terrified him most. And Buffy’s was the only face Xander couldn’t read. She stood implacably, looking at him with green eyes that barely blinked, rubbing the back of Willow’s hand with her thumb.
There were small murmurs of congratulations and acceptance as the group slowly adjusted to the long string of admissions and gratitude that had poured from Xander’s mouth. Then they just as slowly began to disperse: Giles and Anya--not making it more than three feet before Anya started bombarding Giles with questions about male/male sex; Dawn and Willow--Dawn’s arm draped comfortingly around Willow’s shoulders; Andrew stumbling behind with furtive backward glances at those remaining at the gravesite.
Buffy stood still looking at Xander and Spike. Contemplative. It wasn’t a word he’d every really associated with the Buffster, but it truly fit her expression now. She just stood and looked at the two, not nervously, or awkwardly, just…. thoroughly.
At last, she moved. Crossing the short distance between them, Buffy reached up and cupped Xander’s cheek, bringing him down to her level. She brushed her lips softly across his cheek and whispered, “As long as you’re happy.”
Xander stood slightly stunned as she squeezed his shoulder and then turned and followed the rest of the departing gang.
Smiling, Spike turned to face him, “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it, mate?”
But Xander couldn’t answer because there were soft cool lips against his own, and he was suddenly aware that they would be…and could be…for as long as they both wanted.
rubywisp Pairing: Xander/Spike
Requirements: Smut, a mention of Tara. No chocolate, "whelp" or death.
Rating: NC-17
AN: This fic suprised me with where it went. So...I hope it all worked out okay.
“You’re a great bloody git.” Spike smacked Xander on the back of the head.
“Ow! Hey! I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna do that anymore!” Xander rubbed his scalp absently and turned to look at the vampire behind him.
Uh-oh. He’s really pissed. What did I do? Xander ran through the catalogue of things: Favorite mug washed? Check. Wheetabix purchased? Check. Heineken in the fridge? Check. Lube? Check. Cable bill paid? Check. All bases covered, so what’s with the smacking?
“What was that for?” Xander stared at the vamp incredulously.
“How could you forget?” The scarred brow was rapidly descending from arch to scowl.
“Forget what? I didn’t forget anything!” A tingling sensation passed through Xander’s groin and a faint whisper of memory teased his ass. The last time he had forgotten something, Spike had ensured it would never happen again…
“Have you checked the calendar? Did you even see the date? Do you even care about a single sodding thing other than your own arse?” Spike was stalking towards him now, eyes flashing from yellow to blue faster than a candle’s flicker. Fear began to coil in Xander’s chest.
When Spike had nearly reached him, his arm shot out to grab something off the wall behind Xander. Xander nearly crumpled with relief when Spike shoved the calendar in his face.
“Look at the date you stupid sod.”
Xander’s eyes dropped to the calendar--A hard won concession: a 7 of 9 calendar, this month looking particularly stacked, even though her clothes never changed. Maybe it was the angle? He quickly shifted his focus to the dates when a menacing growl emanated from the form behind the calendar-- May 7. Oh god. Oh god. He had forgotten. He’d totally forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Shit.
His eyes flew up to Spike’s face like frightened birds, “I’m sorry,” He barely managed a whisper, “I…I don’t know how I could have…I’m sorry.”
****************
Spike dipped his head to Xander’s nipple and sucked hard. Xander moaned and bucked his pelvis up, jabbing the tip of his cock firmly into Spike’s stomach, searching for friction, suction, a grip, anything to ease the throbbing ache. The stolid pleasure-pain that shot through his dick when it touched the vampire’s hard abdomen was almost enough, but he was forbidden from release. The tight leather clamp at the base of his phallus and around his balls, made sure that his ache continued, taking him from apex to plateau, from apex to plateau over and over and over…
So far he’d been rimmed, kissed, sucked off, spanked, fingered, frottaged, fucked, and licked to within an inch of his life. He was a quivering mess of sweaty flesh and shattered need. He’d begged, pleaded, cajoled, wagered, bartered, promised, threatened and cried for release and been denied with a smirk every time. A smirk and a soft kiss, every damn time. Please…a kiss, I’ll do anything…a kiss, Your ass is ash…a kiss.
Now he was nearly sobbing. He needed to be freed, needed to let go; needed to find the glorious bliss that Spike was denying him. "I’ll be good, I promise, I’ll never, ever, ever…" He babbled as Spike drew his erection between soft lips into the slick of his mouth, to be further teased by a mercilessly talented tongue. A slim finger worked its way in and out of his ass, pressing firmly over his prostate in time with the cool suction of the vamp’s mouth.
Then they were both gone. The mind numbing suction and the mind swirling pressure. His eyes flew open searching wildly for Spike, his hips arching, buttocks clenching as if trying to follow or find their master. “Spike, please…” His voice was foreign, its timber broken and shaky. A blur of white and his ass was filled, legs barely parted enough to make room for narrow hips and thrusting pelvis. Xander screamed when a cruel fist crushed his sensitized member.
And then it was over, the clamp was gone and he was screaming and shaking and spasaming uncontrollably until he sunk into a black haze.
He came to crying. Great heaving sobs. He longed to turn on his side and assume the fetal position but the cuffs prevented it. The bastard still hadn’t let him go. He stared blearily at the lean form at the side of the bed, turned his head to look at the implacable, sculpted being who stood there, while the tears slid over the bridge of his nose and ran down to dampen the pillow.
Crossed arms. Stoic face. Burning eyes.
It came in a whispering flood, “I’m sorry. God Spike, I’m so sorry.” He repeated it again and again, each time more broken than the last. Finally, he moved.
The bed only gave slightly as he put a knee on the bed and reached across Xander’s spent body to unlock the cuffs holding his right arm and then his right ankle. Then Spike quietly stood again to unlock the left ones as well.
Exhausted and shaking, he fell asleep in Spike’s arms murmuring, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…”
He never forgot their anniversary again.
**********
This time though, it was worse. It wasn’t their anniversary, it wasn’t a birthday. It was a death day.
Hers.
The only one who had known and who hadn’t spoken a word. Who hadn’t judged or condemned. Just gave her silent reassurance that it was all right.
Tara.
She’d come upon them in the training room. Xander on his knees sucking Spike off while he stripped his own cock with a furiously paced fist. Cleared her throat even, just to let them know they were no longer alone. But didn’t leave. Spike said later he’d always known that Glinda had more under her skirts and in her head than sweetness and flowers.
Xander had flicked his eyes over to see her standing there, wide eyed and breathless, and though he knew he should stop, should get out of this debauched situation, he was too far gone to care. All he knew was that he wanted her to see, wanted her eyes on them while he swallowed Spike’s thick cock and cool seed, wanted her to watch as he shot his own load all over the brick wall between Spike’s legs. See how wanton, hot and fucking amazing it was when he and Spike were together. How powerful it was. How real.
They came together, both of their eyes on her: Spike with a growl, Xander with a stifled moan. Xander slid up Spike’s body, tucking him away and doing up his zipper before tending to himself. Then he curled into Spike’s open arm and leaned into the wall, both of them waiting for her reaction.
She came forward. Eyes still wide, but now with lust and approval. Her rosebud mouth parted, full breasts heaving, nostrils flaring--drinking in the scent of their release. Xander almost thought she would touch them, kiss them, join them. He longed for it, and felt Spike’s low rumbling approval pass through his body, knowing he wanted it too.
But she stopped a few feet away. Raised her hand and murmured soft words and made graceful movements with her forearm and fingers. A rush passed over Xander brought by a sweet breeze of….rosemary?
Tara dropped her hand and smiled, showing her heart as she spoke, “They won’t know. Not until you’re ready.”
She turned, looking more feminine and sexual than Xander had ever seen her. A wise, understanding goddess, trapped in human form. She disappeared out the doorway just as Spike’s mouth descended on his, his tongue tracing Xander’s lips lightly before saying, “It’s a great gift she’s given us. Lovely bird.”
“How do you mean?” It still hadn’t sunk in exactly what had happened.
“A spell, you daft prick. She’s made it so we can keep together. No interference. At least not ‘til we decide.”
Xander looked into those sparkling blue eyes and understanding hit him. No more need to sneak. No feeling guilty or ashamed during meetings. No more fist clamped tight around his heart. For the first time in weeks he felt that he could breathe again.
“She’s a good girl.” Xander pressed a light kiss to the lips that were so close.
“That she is, mate. That she is.”
******************
Xander caught Spike’s enraged face between rough palms. “I’ll make this right. I will.”
“Bloody right you will, mate.” Spike spat the words at Xander in disgust. “She’s the reason for all this, right? Why I’m not dust in the wind, why you’re not pariah-boy, why we’re together at all.” He emphasized this last with fierce jabs to the man’s chest.
Xander winced at each unforgiving press of Spike’s index finger and then quietly breathed, “At all?”
The vampire’s eyes flashed a brief yellow and his fangs bared as he gritted his jaw in response to the defeated sound of the question.
“Times like this you drive me to say ‘Yes,’ but fuck me, it’s not the truth. You know it’s not, you giant git.” His voice dropped as he rumbled gruffly, “I’d be with you no matter what.”
Spike hooked a previously violent finger under Xander’s chin and drew the man’s head up. Brown eyes skittered over Spike’s features just before the demon crushed full, blood warm lips with his own.
Xander’s body sank into Spike’s, relief loosening tense muscles, leaving him limp and draped as fluidly as the duster on the vampire’s compact frame.
“Doesn’t mean we’re right now, me not bashing your skill in here. Or my letting you hang on me.”
Xander nodded mutely into the curve of Spike’s neck. Then he pulled back putting strong hands on sharp shoulders. “I have just the thing. Come on…”
He strode to the door, grabbed the car keys from the tray on the table and exited the apartment, heedless of whether or not Spike was following.
Sighing in resignation, the vampire followed his human.
**********
“….so you see, Tara, thanks to you, it’s all okay now.”
Xander stopped speaking and looked at Spike, the vampire’s mood intelligible, save for the slight clenching of his jaw. Xander was familiar with that now, that small sign that a chord had been struck within his dead heart. He let his eyes wander to the rest…the semi-circle of humanity that surrounded Tara’s grave.
Dawn was grinning at him crazily, Anya stood beside Giles with a contemplative look while he intently wiped his glasses with the hem of his shirt. Andrew stood next to Giles gazing broken-heartedly at the two of them--vampire and human, eyes darting back and forth as if desperate for some small hope. Willow had tears streaking down her face while her lower lip trembled and her hand clenched Buffy’s tightly. Xander took his time bringing his eyes to Buffy’s face, hers was the expression that terrified him most. And Buffy’s was the only face Xander couldn’t read. She stood implacably, looking at him with green eyes that barely blinked, rubbing the back of Willow’s hand with her thumb.
There were small murmurs of congratulations and acceptance as the group slowly adjusted to the long string of admissions and gratitude that had poured from Xander’s mouth. Then they just as slowly began to disperse: Giles and Anya--not making it more than three feet before Anya started bombarding Giles with questions about male/male sex; Dawn and Willow--Dawn’s arm draped comfortingly around Willow’s shoulders; Andrew stumbling behind with furtive backward glances at those remaining at the gravesite.
Buffy stood still looking at Xander and Spike. Contemplative. It wasn’t a word he’d every really associated with the Buffster, but it truly fit her expression now. She just stood and looked at the two, not nervously, or awkwardly, just…. thoroughly.
At last, she moved. Crossing the short distance between them, Buffy reached up and cupped Xander’s cheek, bringing him down to her level. She brushed her lips softly across his cheek and whispered, “As long as you’re happy.”
Xander stood slightly stunned as she squeezed his shoulder and then turned and followed the rest of the departing gang.
Smiling, Spike turned to face him, “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it, mate?”
But Xander couldn’t answer because there were soft cool lips against his own, and he was suddenly aware that they would be…and could be…for as long as they both wanted.
