"Spike, have you seen my-" Xander stops abruptly. Spike sits sprawled on his bed, his back leaning against the wall. His pants are open and pushed down enough to reveal a pretty impressive erection, his left hand wrapped around his cock. The hand is not moving - all movement has been suspended when Xander barged into Spike's closet.
Xander knows he's standing with his mouth open. "Oh fuck," is his not-so-witty reaction.
For a moment Spike appears embarrassed but then he gives Xander a look of outrageously fake innocence: pursed lips, raised eyebrows, batting eyelashes, the works. Soul or no, Spike has a certain image to uphold - at least when it comes to Xander. He's not going to hastily cover himself like a nervous adolescent.
"Xander, what can I do for you?" He asks with just enough irony to turn the question into something resembling an invitation.
He tosses the magazine away so it lands open at the foot end of the bed. Xander automatically cranes his neck to look at the open page: One woman, two men - one blond, one brunette, with the blond man sucking the other guy's dick while fucking the girl. Xander recognizes the mag, and that particular page. One of his favorites. Anya's too. No way is this a coincidence.
"You went through my stuff," Xander blurts out. He remembers the other contents of his and Anya's well stocked box of pleasures and feels himself blushing.
Spike's smile widens a fraction. "Merely livin' up to your expectations."
Now would be the time for Xander to leave, but his feet seem to be superglued to the floor. His heart is racing and his dick feels rock hard. Swell.
"What? You gonna stand there all day? Either join the fun or get out." And with that Spike moves his hand up and down, jerking off with slow and deliberate strokes, ogling Xander. Gah!
`Join?' The option hasn't even occurred to Xander. In fact, the remark is so left field that Xander automatically looks behind him to check if maybe Spike's talking to someone else. Or maybe Xander's just doing a reality check, making sure there's no dream audience there to witness this surreal scene. "You're a pig, Spike," he splutters.
"Just horny." The vampire corrects him, truthfully. "How `bout you?"
Okay, Xander recognizes a gauntlet when it slaps him. "I'm twenty-two and flying solo," he says. "Of course I'm horny. Doesn't make you hitting on me any less scary." Is this a kind of aftereffect of the magical jacket? It works on guys, too? Xander resists the urge to touch the little button in his pocket. The one he found lying on the carpet and recognized as RJ's, the one he really had no intention of keeping.
"Well, you know that I'm crazy, right? Means I'm bound to do crazy things. Also means I tend to forget those things afterwards."
"I'm not gay."
"Never said you were. I'm not." Spike shrugs without once breaking the slow mesmerizing rhythm of his hand. "Just open-minded."
"And horny," Xander adds, unable to tear his eyes away from that pale long cock. Okay, it's not the first time he sees another man's dick in real life, but it's definitely the first time someone is jerking off in his presence. His mouth feels dry.
Spike follows Xander's gaze to his own hard-on and does a perfect double take. "Indeed, I am," he exclaims in fake surprise. He looks up. "And look, so are you!" Spike's practiced leer could put a shark to shame.
Xander back-pedals. His foot connects with the open door behind him and gives it a push. With a clack the door falls shut - with Xander still inside. Oops.
Spike gracefully gets to his feet and saunters over to where Xander is standing. He smiles. "Welcome to my parlor."
".said the spider to the fly," Xander finishes the sentence. It's too late for a dignified retreat now, but probably not too late to bolt.
Spike stands before him, his gaze traveling back and forth between Xander's lips and eyes, exuding a strange nervousness. He's obviously worked up, but hesitating. `Timid' is the word that comes to Xander's mind. As if all of Spike's courage got spent bringing him *this* close.
It's the sudden realization that Spike isn't the spider in this scenario that tips the scales. An almost overwhelming rush of arousal makes Xander's hard-on twitch. He grabs Spike's shirt, yanks him forward and crushes his mouth on cool parted lips.
So what if Spike's a guy. Xander's a grown up and he can be `open-minded' if he wants to. Heck, considering the things he and Anya have done this is pretty much the last thing he hasn't at least tried. If it sucks he can always file this under `been there, done that, nothing to write home about.'
Except it doesn't suck. It's hungry, greedy and god, so hot! Xander boldly thrusts his tongue into the vampire's mouth. Spike's resistance is perfunctory: he's breathing heavily and angling his head, inviting Xander to deepen the kiss. Xander lets go of Spike's shirt and pushes it off his shoulders, then wraps his arms around him. Spike responds by pressing his whole body against him. He's willing alright. Briefly letting go of that hungry mouth Xander slips his hands underneath Spike's T-shirt and clumsily bunches it upwards. Without hesitation Spike lifts his arms, letting Xander pull the T-shirt over his head.
Then there's more kissing.
It's weird at first, brushing his hands over a chest without boobs, but the nipple he finds is just as sensitive, hardening under his touch. Xander gives it a sharp twist, causing Spike to pant and buck against him. Okay, that's something a man could get used to. Xander continues to squeeze and tease, experimenting with rough and well, rougher, until Spike is whimpering into his mouth. "Oh god, yes." Spike breathes between kisses. He's frantically rubbing his erection against Xander's hip.
Xander loves kissing those lips, but hearing Spike moan and talk? So much better. Xander pulls back and starts nibbling on the vampire's neck, tracing faint scar tissue with the tip of his tongue. Spike inhales sharply and wantonly arches his creamy neck.
Xander grows bolder and runs one hand down Spike's spine and underneath the waistband of Spike's already invitingly open pants. Spike wriggles upwards, urging him on. Xander finds a nice ass, muscled but round in all the right places and his middle finger fits perfectly into the crease between those two mounds. "God, there- yes. Touch me. Please!" Spike's hoarse voice sends bolts of pleasure to Xander's cock.
So far, Spike is doing little more than just holding on and writhing, soaking up every caress. Now Xander captures one of Spike's hands and places it on the hard bulge in his pants. It seems to be the authorization Spike needs, because he nimbly undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. A moment later strong fingers close around Xander's engorged cock and pull it out.
A slight downward nudge is all it takes; Spike drops to his knees. Xander runs a hand through Spike's hair, upsetting its gelled discipline, gripping a handful for better purchase. A moment later one of his favorite fantasies comes true: He can watch his cock slowly disappear between Spike's soft moist lips: first the head, then the shaft, inch by fucking inch. Holy shit! Spike starts using his tongue and the muscles of his throat, sucking and squeezing Xander's cock with frightening skill, while fondling his balls. "Yeah, blow me!" Xander groans, later adding "Slowly," and "Yeah, just like that."
It's Xander who sets the pace. Two years with Anya have taught Xander an unusual amount of control. More than most twenty-two-year-olds can claim for themselves. He wants it slow, wants this to last. But in the end he drops his hand to Spike's shoulder, allowing the vampire free reign. Spike speeds up, humming lightly as, a few minutes later, Xander comes in his mouth with a loud shout.
Spike swallows everything, licks him clean, and then looks up, raw need written all over his face. His cock is still hard, poking out of his opened pants - but he stays on his knees, hands motionless on his thighs.
Xander smiles, realizing that Spike will do nothing without his lead. The ball is completely in his court. What an opportunity for payback. Maybe he should just leave the bleached wonder with a severe case of blue balls? It's tempting.
His thoughts must have been visible on his face, because Spike shrinks and drops his gaze.
Funny, how sometimes things fall into place. Eyes cast down, neck and emaciated back hunched in resignation, Spike reminds Xander of the proverbial kicked puppy, the kind that always comes back wagging its tail, even if you beat the crap out of it. The kind that will only stop crawling back to you once it's irrefutably broken. The image sparks an epiphany and Xander suddenly has an inkling of the whole Spike-Buffy debacle. Strip away the vampire and the bad ass posturing and what remains is a lonely and deeply unhappy man.
"Spike?" Xander holds out his hand.
Spike blinks in surprise, smiling almost bashfully. He grips the offered hand and lets Xander pull him to his feet. When Xander kisses him he responds with the desperation of a drowning man.
As he tastes his come on Spike's talented tongue, Xander feels a dark veil lifting from his heart. Maybe it's true what they say, that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.
He slips both hands beneath the waistband of Spike's pants, cupping the vampire's nicely shaped ass and pulls him closer, trapping Spike's erection and his own semi-card cock between their bodies. His balls are still tingling, sending random little shudders through him - aftershocks of a truly amazing blow-job.
"Want you," Spike is murmuring, "so hot," and "please." Every fiber of his being seems to yearn for Xander's touch. Yearn - *not* demand.
Xander's cock is growing hard again. Even for him it's an unusually speedy recovery - Spike is really getting to him. Xander is beginning to think that he could come just by listening to Spike plead.
Another time, though. Right now all Xander wants is to make the other man plead some more, to make him beg for it. Spike's moaning at the friction between their cocks, slick moisture creating delicious sensations. Xander starts kneading Spike's ass. He digs his fingers into hard lean flesh with startling possessiveness - almost hard enough to leave bruises. He pushes Spike's jeans down some more, then spreads his cheeks with strong hands and runs his finger down the crack, stopping just short of the other man's hole. Spike bucks violently, almost knocking them over.
"Do it," Spike pants. "Right there." Teasing touches make him groan. "Xander, for the love of god. please .fuck me!" Two words. Coming from Spike they send a sharp stab of arousal into Xander's groin, unlike anything he's ever felt before. And that's saying a lot, because he's never had cause to complain about wild monkey-sex with Anya. His dick is definitely leaking now.
"Where do you want my cock, Spike," he teases. "Here?" He crooks his middle finger, brushing its tip over Spike's puckered entrance, pushing but not breaching.
"Yes. God, yes," is the hissed answer. "Want to feel- inside. Feel you inside."
Xander pulls back. "Then we better lose these," he says and steps out of his pants. Spike hurriedly pushes his own jeans down. Xander's hands twitch, eager to touch.
"What else did you steal out of my box?" he asks.
Naked, Spike wordlessly crouches on the floor next to his bed and pulls a tattered cardboard box out from underneath it. He turns it upside down. A few magazines and a dildo . fall to the floor. And a little tube of lube.
Two steps and Xander is standing behind Spike. One gesture and Spike is on his knees, bending over. Arms spread wide he grips the bed for support, then rests his head on the mattress and raises his ass. Xander has a full view of Spike's muscled back, the curve of his shoulders and his finely sculptured limbs. It's one of the most erotic things Xander has ever seen. He kneels behind him, picks up the tube and carefully unscrews the cap. A tremble goes through Spike.
When Xander puts his left hand on Spike's back, muscles ripple in anticipation. Without much ado Xander carefully pushes a slick finger into Spike's waiting hole. A muffled sigh can be heard that sounds almost happy.
Bless Anya's perfectionist little heart - she tackled sex like everything else in her life: with gusto, complete lack of inhibitions and great ambition. Which is why Xander has a very clear idea of what to do. By the time he's done preparing him, Spike is moaning and twitching impatiently, writhing in need, pleading. But he never once tries to touch himself.
Xander's own patience is becoming a bit frazzled round the edges now. Spike seems to think he's ready, so maybe he is. Xander carefully lubricates his dick and positions himself. Sliding the slippery round tip of his cock up and down the crack between those deliciously pale cheeks elicits a whimper. He rests the head at Spike's entrance.
"Is this what you want, Spike?" Xander asks huskily, rocking his hips slightly, nudging and teasing the sensitive opening with the thick swollen head of his cock. Sliding in just a fraction.
"God yes!" Spike pushes back. "Want you to- need you to fuck me."
"Don't move," Xander orders him. Spike stills, panting.
Xander swallows and puts his hands on the strong shoulders before him, feeling them tremble underneath his caress. He drags his fingernails lightly down that milk-white back, heading for the slender waist, pauses to caress round buttocks and lean flanks. Then he grips Spike's hips and inexorably pushes forward. The incredible tightness, Spike's loud drawn out groan and the sight of his cock sliding all the way in - fuck! - it's utterly amazing. God, he's fucking Spike! Xander feels his balls contract in a sudden rush of lust. It takes all his self-control to not just let go and hammer away.
He starts a slow rhythm; deep, long thrusts. It doesn't take long to find the right angle. Each time his cock brushes the prostate, Spike is tossing his head, moaning wantonly. "Yes," he gasps, "fuck" and "so good" giving away to "been so long." Xander vaguely notices that as Spike is nearing his climax the expletives become less frequent. "Take me," "Make me feel" and "hold me" - the raw desperation touches a nerve in Xander.
Remembering Anya during her occasional bouts of insecurity, Xander stops thrusting, ignoring Spike's groan of frustration. He drops back on his haunches, pulling his partner backwards with him, until they are both kneeling. His cock remains deeply buried inside Spike's ass throughout the position change. The vampire is in his lap, impaled, while his back rests against Xander's chest. Xander possessively wraps his arms around the slender body, pinning Spike's arms to his side, trapping him in a firm fireman's grip that leaves just one hand free for other things.
He reaches for Spike's erection. It's the first time Xander ever touches another man's dick, but the way they are joined it almost feels like an extension of his own. He wraps his hand about the cool shaft, marveling at its hardness. It's slick with pre-cum. He gathers some of the moisture from the tip and starts to jerk Spike off, slow at first but then with mounting confidence and speed.
Spike arches against him, moaning, twitching in his grip, no longer coherent. Xander leans his cheek against Spike's. "I've got you," he murmurs soothingly. "I've got you. It's okay."
Spike comes with a keening wail, spurting come all over Xander's fist. Xander is pretty sure some landed on the carpet and he couldn't care less because Spike's internal muscles are contracting around his cock and - fuck! Xander bucks a few times and then he too comes in an almost violent burst followed by about a dozen lesser spurts, emptying himself into the no longer cool body on his lap.
His body trembles with the effort of staying upright, but he has a boneless vampire on his lap who looks like he needs a moment longer to recover. Xander keeps his arms wrapped around the other man, then shifts a little, angling his arm so that Spike's head rolls into the curve of Xander's shoulder. He rubs Spike's arm absently.
Two or three minutes later, Spike tenses slightly.
"Spike? You have to get off." Xander tells him. There's the sound of sharply drawn breath, but before Spike can say anything Xander explains. "You're too heavy, you're cutting of my circulation."
"Oh, right." Spike says sheepishly and gets to his feet. He turns around and offers Xander his hand. Xander allows him to pull him to his feet and the two men look at each other in wonder.
"Holy crap!"
"I was gonna say `bloody hell' but I reckon that covers it too."
Xander looks at his hand, still covered in Spike's come. He studies it with a frown and takes a tentative lick. The taste doesn't impress him but it's not gag-worthy either. He knows Spike is watching him.
Xander grins at Spike. "A man could get used to this."
THE END.