Summary: Xander discovers Spike engrossed in something other than him and feels neglected. Not to mention a bit sulky.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon who provided brilliant inspiration for these stories.
Feedback: Yes, it's really nice to get.
The first few months with Spike were lost in a blur of jazzed nerve endings for Xander. The best kind of jazz, hot white hold-your-breath-soar-on-the- notes ... wai-lllll...and drift away on blissed out wings of pure sensation. One with the gods. The universe. The cosmos. The whole damn library of really big concepts.
That and total sleep deprivation.
He discovered you really could walk bow legged for days. Hardly chew for aching jaws. Talk muffled because your lips are numb. And his asshole? His new best friend.
Xander didn’t. Hadn’t the foggiest idea. Never gave it the respect that Spike had been giving night after night. Mornings too. Respect? Downright fucking adoration when it came down to it. And Spike did. Come down to it. My God, the man...nope, that would be vampire because no man he ever met could do what Spike was capable of. Mind you, he hadn’t tried it out with any other man.
Big surprise. He’d been cruising along, and not in that way, nope, not at all, just strolling along in his life, having knock downs with various nasties, okay, he was mostly the one that got knocked down but just going along having a regular life...okay, that one too, not so much of the regular, life in Sunnydale was never what you’d call regular...and we are so not talking about that other thing. Never had trouble in that department either. And ewww.
But how had this all got off track?
His asshole. New best friend. And Spike. His other new best friend. And close mates with his first best friend. Aw fuck. Short form. He felt goo-ood. Down there. God, made him twitch thinking about it.
Last night? Holy fuck. See, the thing he didn’t know about the vampire, well there were lots of things he didn’t know about Spike. That he was a clean freak for one. Not in the useful way of picking things up after himself, or offering to wash the dishes once in a while, or...anyway, the guy just loved being in hot soapy water, loved washing hair, his own, Xander’s. They spent hours in the shower or bathtub, all slick and soapy, eyes closed because they were either doing it or washing each other off afterwards. And all of it felt wonderful. Warm, steamy—yeah, in all ways—and the sweet, spicy smell of soap, fruit smell of shampoo.
See, he didn’t expect that Spike would smell great. All that time spent in graveyards, and dead ‘n all. Not the recipe for smelling good. But when they first kissed, that was surprise number one. Well, that and the gay thing. The smoky flavor, been expecting that. Even the leather. Made sense. But that clean, clean smell of his skin, light fragrance of good soap. And the hair, once it had been loosened from the gel by Xander’s fingers combing through? He couldn’t get enough of the way his hair smelled. Spike called it snuffling. “Hey, Xander, quit snuffling around in my hair and get down where it really counts.” And he’d point down the length of this body to his cock, standing straight up and proud and Xander would give one last rub of his face against the hair, slide down and swallow it whole. He’d learned fast. Never was a good student, but some things are just inherently interesting. Public school system might take note of that. Freshman Blowjobs, Advanced Placement:Tongue Technique. Xander would be an Honors student. Word.
But back to last night. What he didn’t know about Spike was that he read. Well, obviously he reads. Everyone reads things like instructions for using the toaster oven, liner notes, backs of video boxes, stuff like that. But Spike really liked to read. When he wasn’t nailing Xander into the mattress, or sofa cushions, or carpet, or shower wall, or...basically everywhere, he liked to read. Xander would come home and the place would be silent as a tomb. Fitting. So he’d poke his head round doorways, looking for Spike, calling out to him, and finally, there he’d be, in a chair, on the bed, sometimes on the floor on his belly, reading a book. Once again, who knew? In fact, it was kind of cute.
Except he’d get lost in there. Xander would come in, horny as hell after thinking about Spike all day, just wanting to get his clothes off, pull Spike into the shower and bend over for him. Get that cock back where it belonged as fast as possible. And Spike would hardly raise his head when he came in the room. Acted all distracted as if he was unwilling to leave the story, poetry even, to come get Xander.
So sometimes Xander would have to resort to a strip tease. He’d stand there in his yellow hard hat, tank top, tool belt slung around his hips, waiting to get his attention. Maybe nudge the toe of his boot at the book in Spike’s hands to make him look up, and then he’d start a boogie shboom, shboom, twisting his hips slowly, looking back over his shoulder with bedroom eyes, spread his legs so his ass muscles would flex, a few slow hip thrusts. He’d make his hands into fists to make the veins pop, and pump his arms up a little—he knew he was looking good these days from the hard construction work, had built up some muscle mass—and shimmy round to face Spike, unbuckle the tool belt slowly, and let it drop. Then the tank top, over the head in one twist, his arms showing tanned and built, twirl a full circle again, throw the shirt at Spike’s head, and as he was extricating himself, toe the boots off, and begin to slide the zipper of his jeans down, one inch at a time.
That’s as far as he’d get. The book would go flying and Spike would be on his knees in front of him, sweeping the jeans down and covering his cock with his mouth as soon as it sprang free. And they’d be off. For hours at a time. Like he said, sleep deprivation. Not his best friend, but went with the territory.
So that’s what more or less happened last night. Except Spike would not stop reading. Looked up when he heard the tool belt drop, smiled kind of distractedly, “Hey Xan, you’re home,” and started reading again.
Xander couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. That was Grade A American ass he was offering. And his boyfriend was stuck in a book? Major measures required. DEFCON 1. He wriggled out of shirt, boots and jeans fast and stood, feet apart and planted, as he fondled himself. Licked his lips, spat into his palm and started to stroke firmly, getting it hard. Palm over the head, wet now with pre come, other hand on his balls, rolling them round, tugging.
Spike looked up. Something about the unmistakable slap of cock in a man’s hand when he’s jerking off. He stared for a second, pupils dilating, chewing his lip. And then with a frustrated groan said, “Hold that thought, pet. I’m almost finished.” And went back to his book.
Was there a higher alert than DEFCON 1? Fuck. What did a guy have to do to get laid around here? And where was the much advertised vampire readiness? Fuck. It was all over. Xander couldn’t believe it. Six months of round the clock sex and then finished. Over. Nada. Nyet. Verboten. Xander exhausted the thought in all the languages he knew. Oh, not quite finished. Zip. My guitar slowly weeps.... His cock was beginning to wilt in his hand as his mind revived and coursed in wider and wider sweeps, trying to get around the thought that Spike Didn’t Want Him Any More.
He gave himself a couple more tentative strokes.
“Yeah, pet?” Spike raised his head again. “You just keep going, luv. Got to find out how this ends, okay? One more page. Promise.” And then with an apologetic smile, he was gone again.
And so was Xander’s hard on. It was an ex wood, a former boner. Sighing heavily, he turned toward the bathroom. May as well have a shower. At least he’d be a clean ex-boyfriend.
He’d just done the first soap and rinse when the shower door opened and a naked vampire slid in next to him.
“What you up to, pet? Anything interesting?” Spike reached round Xander’s back and found the soap.
No way. Not paying any attention to the hard rod that had begun to slide up and down his crease as Spike undulated against him, slicking his hands up with soap and then dropping to Xander’s neglected cock. Didn’t want him. Just came for a quick shower. Get clean. No time for sex now. Things to do.... Spike’s hand was stroking his cock slowly, up and down, up and down, palm curving over the head, round underneath his balls, balls being rolled through fingers, teased apart...not interested...
“Laundry, Spike, have to put the laundry...” He trailed off as the hand moved behind his balls and fingers began stroking the soft skin.
“No, Spike. Leave off. Not in the mood.” Xander was finding it hard to focus, but he was determined. Read a book instead of fuck Xander? No one did that. Even Giles wouldn’t choose to keep on reading instead of...no, not going there. Anyway, Giles wasn’t interested in sex. Probably never done it. So not going there. What the fuck was wrong with him?
But a finger was sliding down his crease from the arch of his buttocks while a firm hand pulled on his traitor cock which was rising now to full salute. The finger slid further and then pressed on his hole, circled lightly, and pressed again, the fleshy ball of the finger fitting snugly into the sensitive indentation.
Xander rolled his head back, feeling Spike’s cheek next to his. O--kay. Laundry could wait. Blunt teeth nipped at his earlobe and then soft lips kissed their way down his neck as the finger continued its exquisite stimulation, pressed firmly, and was inside, stroking the walls, widening him. Xander’s mind was guh. That’s all. Guh. And mrrble.
“My beautiful love, so sexy, so strong, so... Spike began to suck at the curve where Xander’s neck met his shoulder, raising a blood dark stain on his skin. Xander’s legs felt weak, knees bending as his muscles ran honey warm and liquid, giving way, pressing him down on the maddening finger.
“Here, pet. Brace your hands on the wall.” Spike’s voice was low and sexy as hell. Xander’s stomach tensed and a hot buzz flashed inside. “Something down there needs a little loving.”
Two hands gripped his shoulders and kneaded them for a moment, and then swept down his sides until they cupped his buttocks, still stroking, petting them.
“Spread your legs, luv.” A puff of air cooled the skin of his ass as Spike spoke and then he was being kissed, and bitten and licked and Spike’s hands and tongue were everywhere, nipping, laying down long, flat stripes, teasing into his crease. Xander wanted to press back into the sweet torture, but he needed to jerk forward into his own hand that had found its way around his cock.
“Spike, you’re driving me crazy,” Xander panted. “I want you to...but don’t stop what you’re doing.” His cock under his fingers swelled even more, and he increased his speed, head down, watching the head popping in and out in the circle of his hand, but focused almost entirely on what was happening behind him.
Spike was biting tracks down his right cheek, sometimes hard, sometimes light so Xander hardly knew what to expect. There would be a sharp flare of delicious pain and then it would soften and dissipate, leaving a warm burn radiating outward from the bite mark. The same on the other side, bite hard, bite gentle until Xander’s butt cheeks were glowing with sensation, making him want to turn round and plunge his cock into the teasing mouth and fuck himself dry in the cool, wet surround of Spike’s clenching throat He thrust forward into his hand, groaning as he felt himself move closer to climax.
“You like that, pet?” Spike’s voice was pure velvet, sinful, dark, silky velvet. “I love this arse more than I love...” But his voice trailed away into a mumble as he showered soft kisses over the bite marks, soothing them with feather trails of light touches.
“Spread your legs wider, luv.” Xander felt strong hands pulling his cheeks apart and shuffled his feet to give Spike more access. And then sighed, groaned, something like a sob catching in his throat as he felt an infinitely soft wet tongue press against his hole and the edges flutter there, teasing the sensitive opening. It was almost a tickle if you could count something a tickle that unfurled from one point in the body and traveled whole archipelagos of nerve clusters until arriving back at the melting center again, to rest there, throbbing.
Xander seemed capable of nothing more than inarticulate moans, thrusting his hips back toward the tormenting tongue that now became hard and slick, pushing into his ass, the tip circling just inside the hard ring until it softened, opened, allowed more tongue, the point pushing in, probing, fucking his ass.
“Spike, I’m going to...you’ve got to stop now or go for it. I’m so close...Please...love....”
The tongue slowed, retreated, circled gently at the opening and then withdrew, leaving Xander bereft, his nerves buzzed, aching for it. Spike stood up, turning him in his arms so both of their cocks were pressed against their bellies, side by side, the hard velvet lengths rubbing, hot against cool as they thrust slowly together, kissing with the kind of knee trembling passion Xander hadn’t even been able to imagine before Spike.
“Want you, luv. But not ready for this to be over yet. So much more to do.”
“Oh yeah, laundry.” Xander opened the shower door.
“What the fuck?” Spike’s eyes opened in disbelief. “You’re going to do...” And then he got it. “Yeah, funny man. Smart arse.” And he gave the same said retreating arse a sharp smack with his open hand.
By the time they had stumbled across the bedroom, twisting round to smack at each other’s asses, they were breathless with laughter. But not for long.
“Turn round, pet,” Spike whispered into Xander’s mouth after they had fallen onto the bed. “Want your cock in my mouth and mine in yours.” He leaned back until Xander was in place and lowered his head, engulfing the straining erection in front of him. Xander likewise licked, and then slid his lips down over the swollen flesh jutting against his mouth, letting the edges of his teeth drag lightly on the skin.
Spike’s cock. Xander could write novels about Spike’s cock. But basically, he’d rather suck it. He swirled his tongue around the pink fleshy head and flicked the point into the slit in a move that made Spike’s hips jerk instinctively forward, filling Xander’s mouth with his hard length. Xander pulled back slightly and arched his tongue against the underside, drawing the thick muscle slowly up the shaft until the head was held just inside his lips while he drew his cheeks in and sucked at the spongy tip. Spike’s moaning was constant now, and the same sound was coming continuously from his own throat in rhythm with Spike’s, as if he was in pain. Except this was not pain, nothing like it at all. It was pleasure taken to the highest level he’d ever experienced. Beyond anything he’d felt before. What Spike was doing to him didn’t bear...oh god, getting so close...one hundred years of practice and Xander, pizza boy, demon magnet, well that part was working for him, oh yeah... ...his thoughts flickered in and out...and he thanked whatever powers there be for that stroke of good luck....and Xander was...ohhhhh. He let out a deep, grateful groan and gave himself over to pure, unadulterated, mind bending sensation. Once more, Xander felt his orgasm rising. This was too much, too much pleasure, too much....
“Spike, stop, gonna come...I want you in me...please...” The last word was drawn out in a long hiss, Xander beyond words now. Everything was up to Spike. Xander’s mind had left the building.
Spike gave one last draw on Xander’s cock and moved quickly round, pulling him up on his hands and knees. There was a sharp click of the lube being flipped open, a short pause and then...Xander’s breath caught and held...and then the thick cock head was at his entrance, pressing, pressing, and his hole opened under the softhard insistence...opened and let Spike in. The long, burning, grasping glide of Spike’s cock in his ass again. Xander arched his back, squeezing the thick, hard flesh, and then pushed back with all his strength, reaching down for his own cock to pull at it frantically. That’s what he needed, to feel Spike all the way in, to the back of his throat if he could manage.
“Hard, give it to me hard and fast,” he panted, thrusting upward again with his hips.
In some dim, underwater way, he heard Spike gasp and mutter, “Xander...love.” His own breathing had become ragged, and he pushed back again, trying to get him deeper. Then there were hands gripping his hips so hard it was painful, but all of that faded when Spike began to buck into him, thrusting faster and faster, harder, deeper, grunting as his balls slapped against Xander’s ass. Xander’s cock was hard to the point of bursting, and here it came, the sudden avalanche rush of sensation, his balls aching and drawing up close, and he was coming, overwhelmed, jazzed senseless in jerking bursts of nerve explosion, the head of his cock pulsing warm fluid over his hand. Just as the crisis was beginning to fade, the pounding in his ass escalated. Spike had lost control in the surge of his own orgasm and was riding it through in a flurry of deep, fast irregular thrusts that felt like the siege of Jericho.
Fuck, where had that image come from. But no accounting for Xandermind when it was just being let back in the room after a fuckworth’s absence. Xander gave a few last strips of his cock, feeling Spike’s body draped over his and then lowered himself to the bed.
Spike didn’t move from his blanket pose, folded bonelessly over Xander’s back. His cock was still inside, but Xander didn’t feel any impulse to be anywhere other than exactly where he was. A vampire in Xander. Xander had a vampire in his ass. Sunnydale provided many strange wonders of the scariest kind. But this one. Not scary at all. Strange for sure. Never saw that one coming. Though he did now. A lot.
“So how’d it end?”
There was a faint stirring above him as Spike unglued his head from Xander’s neck where he was suckling mindlessly.
“The story you were reading.”
“Oh that. The whale got away.”
“Whale? You were reading Moby Dick?”
“Yeah.” The moist sucking at the back of his neck continued.
“That was the most boring novel I’ve ever read. Gave up at chapter five.”
“Hmmyeah. S’long. Thought it was an American porn classic. It’s not.”
“Nope. Not porn. Very not porn.”
“Great read though. You should try it again, pet.”
“Not a chance. Got all the porn I need, right here.”
Spike groaned and slid out, tucking himself into the curve of Xander’s body, his leg angled over the back of his thighs.
“Could read it to you.”
“Nope. Thanks, but no thanks.”
And Xander reached an arm over the sleepy vampire, pulling him in closer. Everything he wanted. Right here.