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Disclaimer: I don’t own them. I’m just playing with them.
Warnings/Squicks: slight D/s and bloodplay
Summary: Just a pleasant little dream.
Notes: I’ve been writing for years but rarely post anything. I normally do multiple chapter fics that never get finished. I just recently fell in love with the Spike/Xander pairing and didn’t want to do start another one of those. So this is my first one shot and pretty short at that. I’m not completely happy with it, but have to start somewhere.
His hips swung to the beat of the throbbing music, nothing like the wild flailing of his high school days. Hot bodies crowded him from all sides, grinding provocatively, trying to gain his favor, but he paid them no mind, lost in the trill of the dance.
Blood pounded hard and breath grew short and ragged as a cool body plastered against his back from knee to neck. Strong hands grasped his hips and a hard cock teased his ass, rubbing to the beat of the music.
His cock hardened and his back arched, neck falling back to rest on the shoulder behind, chocolate eyes meeting icy blue. Cool lips trailed down his neck, teasing the thin leather collar that encircled his neck, and then moved past to his collarbone. Tongue licked and fanged scraped delicately over the skin; a shudder racked his body from the suspense. Teeth pricked then drove deep and the rigid cock pressed tightly against his ass.
“Master!” he howled as his mind shattered. No other word could describe the sound that tore from his throat, unlike anything he’d ever vocalized before.
Xander’s eyes snapped open and drew deep breaths in an attempt to calm his breathing. He swallowed and winced at the scratchiness of his throat. The stickiness of his sheets against his groin told him that he’d need to do laundry today. He’d never admit it, but it was not the first such dream that he’d had since he’d gained his roommate and he’d even had them before, for years though he denied it.
His eyes grew wide and his head snapped to the side, remembering the other occupant of the room, but let out a relieved breath when he saw him where he’d left him, tied securely to the worn orange cheer, eyes closed, and still as death. He wiped himself off as best he could then padded softly to the bathroom to shower and clear his head.
As soon as Spike heard the click of the bathroom door, a grin pulled at the corners of his mouth and gold flickered in his eyes. You’re mine pet, gifted to me by my sire. Only a matter of time before you submit, before you accept the freedom I can offer.