WARNING: Contains non-con of the decidedly UNfluffy variety
Dedication: For feedmykink's Random Noncon Challenge
The door hit the wall with a bang, bouncing slightly before it settled. Spike's eyes snapped open, the noise bringing him bolt upright in bed, tensed for the next wave of the apocalypse, ready to do battle for his life. He looked at the doorway, slowly relaxing when he saw who stood there. "Oh, it's you," he muttered, laying back down. "Coulda knocked, y'know."
Xander shrugged. "Yeah, but what's the fun in that?" He stepped into the small closet that functioned as Spike's bedroom, pushing the door closed behind him.
The vampire watched him approach, a sudden prickle along the back of his neck reminding him that this was Harris, who'd always hated him and wanted him dead. He swallowed and tried to sound like his old confident self when he asked, "Mind gettin' lost, then? Could do with a bit more sleep, here."
"Actually, I do. You see, there's something I've been thinking about, and I figure now is as good a time as any to find out." Another few steps and he was standing beside the bed, staring down at Spike with an unreadable expression.
But his eyes... those dark eyes glittered in the darkness, something in their depths sending a tendril of dread snaking through Spike. He tried to sit up, but Xander's hand stopped him, shoving him back down onto the bed. "Didn't say you could get up yet."
Trying to remind himself that this was one of the good guys, Spike retorted, "Don't recall askin', mate."
"Maybe you should've," he said in a low voice. Spike could smell the bitter scent of alcohol that clung to the boy and he opened his mouth to ask what he wanted when Xander continued. "The way I figure, you've gotta be something special, right? I mean, Buffy sleeps with you and she's ready to forgive you for trying to rape with her. And Anya sleeps with you, then basically forgets about me in her rush to keep me from staking your worthless ass. So I've gotta know... what the hell is it about you? Do you have some special trick you do in bed, or is it just your cock, huh?"
Spike shook his head, licking dry lips. "Nothin' special about me, mate."
Dark eyes swept over him briefly before Xander asked, "Really? Well, let's check, just to make sure." He ripped the sheet off, then stared in stunned amazement at the pale body that was exposed, briefly struck speechless at the sight of Spike in all his glory. One hand slid down over his sweatpants, rubbing along the swelling in his groin that was growing with the touch.
He should take advantage of the boy's distraction, should make a break for it while he was staring, but Spike found himself unable to move. He felt frozen in place, his muscles locked in a horrified stiffness that he remembered all too well. All he could do was lie there and watch as Harris stroked his hand over his cock until it pushed against his pants in an obscene bulge, its very stiffness seeming malevolent, as though it couldn't wait to tear its way into him.
Xander squeezed his dick one last time, then clucked his tongue as he looked down at Spike's flaccid penis, lying limply amid his dark curls. "Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun, Spike. Here, let me help."
A warm hand surrounded him, manipulating him with a firm, sure touch, and Spike gritted his teeth and fought the urge to give in to the feel of a touch that wasn't his own. He struggled against it, bringing up images of Buffy in the bathroom, of her red robe blazing out against the white enamel, until the desire receded, leaving him soft and still in Xander's hand. Not that it mattered- the boy was obviously intent on having him, and he knew well enough that he didn't have to be hard for that.
Sudden blazing wet heat surrounded him and Spike's eyes flew open, a groan tearing from his throat before he could stop it. His cock filled and lengthened, hardening against a smooth wet tongue, giving him no time to fight it back down, and Harris seemed to realize how much he hated it, because he lifted his head and smirked at him. "That's better," he commented, then ducked his head back down, taking him in his mouth again. The dark head bobbed up and down in time to the wet sucking sounds that might have been erotic in any other context, but instead just made Spike feel sick.
After he'd toyed with him a little longer, Xander stood up and stripped his sweatpants off, then wrapped his hand around his cock. He was hard and clearly excited, his dick a dark, almost purple color, with clear drops of precome glistening on his tip. "You're gonna be good and stay still for me, right?" he asked, and Spike nodded. There wasn't much else he could do, was there?
A cruel smile told him Xander was aware of the problem. He put one knee on the bed, then slid on top of him in one quick move, reaching down to line their cocks up, making sure Spike could feel him as he started moving, rocking against him. He groaned, dragging his dick over Spike's as slowly as he could. "Fuck, that feels good. Like that, Spike?"
He bit his lip, forcing his hips to keep still. No matter what, he was not going to give in, wouldn't let his cock fool him into participating in this. But Harris seemed to have other ideas, as he started moving faster, shifting slightly so that one of his legs eased over Spike's, the drag of skin on skin growing slicker as precome coated both shafts. Finally Spike couldn't stand the waiting anymore. "Just do it," he whispered in a faint voice. "Get it over with, yeah?"
The chuckle that answered his request was so much like Angelus' that he almost wondered if all of it had been a bad dream, but there was no lilt in the voice that replied, "Knew you'd beg me for it." Spike turned his head, waiting for the hand that would shove his legs open and the cock that would be shoved inside, almost certainly dry, because what the hell would the boy care if he bled?
Xander wrapped his hand around Spike's dick, squeezing slightly in warning as he shifted to straddle the vampire's hips. He reached back to check the positioning, then started to sink down, hissing at the stretch that bordered on pain. There hadn't been much chance to prepare, but he'd done what he could with lube and a toy before he came into the room, and while it would've been easier if he'd lubed Spike beyond spit and precome, he couldn't risk giving his plans away too soon.
Silken heat surrounded him, drawing him into a tightness that couldn't be anything but virginal. It was mind-blowing. It was perfect. It wasn't Buffy. As the understanding of what was happening sank in, Spike started to struggle. "No! No, please! Please... don't! Harris, please!"
Xander pressed down fully, using his weight to keep Spike on the bed. The frantic blond underneath him thrashed, his head whipping from side to side on the pillow, hands rising as though to push him off. Two hands caught his wrists and pressed them down, pinning them to the bed as Xander leaned forward. "Shhhh... might as well enjoy it," he whispered. "C'mon, Spike, we both know a slut like you wants it."
"I don't!" Spike protested, shrinking back into the mattress as much as he could when the boy turned his head to him, afraid that he might try to force a kiss on him to add insult to the injury. "I don't... don't want it. Please, just stop, please!"
His assailant paid no attention, just rocked his hips, dragging his dick over Spike's stomach with a moan. "Yeah, that's it. Gonna fuck myself on your cock, Spike, make you moan for me like a bitch in heat. And you will, won't you? You'll get off just as hard as I will, probably beg me to do it again as soon as you can." He sat up, gasping as the change in position dragged Spike's erection over his prostate.
The blond closed his eyes, hoping that at least he would be spared the sight of his degradation, but a hard slap and curt order of, "Open your eyes, bitch," told him that the small consolation would be denied to him. Xander waited until he saw the blue eyes open before he brought his legs up, planting his feet on the bed next to Spike's hips. The despair in Spike's gaze told him everything he needed to know, and the crack that spoke of the vampire's shattering heart sent power and lust surging through him.
With another low moan, Xander slid up, pausing for a second before he slammed back down, the hard stroke drawing a cry from his lips. He braced one hand on Spike's chest, the other slipping down to curl around his dick, moving in tandem with his hips as he rode the prostrate blond. The feel of Spike inside him, the hard press of his cock, the slow drag of it along the little nub deep inside, and best of all, the way Spike whispered, "No... please... don't..." All of it was combining to make Xander harder than he'd imagined, and soon he eased back down to his knees, leaning forward onto his hands so he could move faster.
"Please, just stop," Spike begged softly. He knew it was likely making it worse, but he couldn't stop the pleas from spilling forth. Anything to make it end before he- God, that was the point, wasn't it? He wasn't going to stop until they were both finished. A tear trickled out of the corner of Spike's eye, but Xander didn't seem to notice.
His mouth was open, his features suffused with pleasure, his entire body given over to the rocking motion that drove Spike's cock in and out of him with ever-growing speed. Revenge was forgotten for the moment, only the need for more seeming to exist. He groaned, then panted, "Fuck, yeah. Think I can come just like this, huh? Just from fucking myself on your cock?"
Spike knew he could. He'd made enough of his victims do it, men and women alike, allowing them to believe that they might be able to buy their lives if they succeeded, to give any other answer. And that was what this was really about, wasn't it? His sins were too numerous, too grievous to ever be expiated with anything but the cruelest of sufferings, so it was only right that he be forced to bow under the yoke that he had foisted upon the innocents whom he had destroyed so many times over.
Xander moaned, driving back hard as he moved frantically over him, and to his horror, Spike felt the first tingle of something like actual pleasure settle in his balls. The boy started gasping for air, then suddenly reared up, sliding all the way down, grunting as his dick twitched and shot all over Spike's chest. Come spattered over his skin, burning like fire as muscles contracted, all but strangling his cock, and Spike was lost.
His body took over, hands rising to grip Xander's hips as his feet slid up to lie flat on the bed. Against his will, he found himself thrusting up, driving hard inside the tight heat once, twice and again until he came with a despairing cry. There was no pleasure in it, no real relief until the last spasm had been wrenched from him and he lay still again, praying for the stake that would finally end it all for him.
Instead, a soft laugh told him that Xander was well aware of his anguish and intended to let him wallow in it. He shifted, easing off Spike as he reached for his sweatpants. "Well, that was enlightening," he commented. Getting up, he pulled the pants on and gave Spike a cold smile. "Guess having a roommate around isn't gonna be that bad after all, huh?"
God, so this wasn't going to be a one-off. And he couldn't ever tell any of the others- not that they'd care, not when he deserved this and so much more for all the things he'd done. When he didn't respond, Xander just smirked at him and walked back into the living room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click that echoed louder than the clang of a prison door. After he left, Spike turned onto his side and wondered again why he hadn't just walked right out of the cave into the sunlight.
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