Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Spike/Xander, Willow in flashback
Rating: R
Summary: It's their second anniversary and Spike has a surprise
Concrit: Please, in comments
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, not yet, but the will be once I've taken over the world. Bwah-ha-ha.
Warnings/Squicks: BDSM, naked Xander (what? That's not a squick?), a bit of bloodplay
Notes: Inspired by a prompt at still_grrr: 171: Black (but not posted there because they do not accept submissions with explicit sex)
Note:: Spike's comment about the taste of Xander's blood is paraphrased off of the poem Song: To Celia by Ben Johnson
Note: Any errors are my own, but... I rarely write stories with either sex or BDSM so I was a bit concerned about this one. Worried that it might be totally idiotic or off or something. The incredibly kindly whichclothes read it over and reassured me that the story is OK. In addition, she found some typos and bad grammar (I only pretend to understand grammar), which I've fixed. So, to whichclothes I say, thank you for taking the time to review my story!

As Black As Sin

Dragon's Phoenix

Part One

Xander knelt with his arms stretched out uncomfortably behind his back. His head was pointing downwards, just an inch or two above the floor. He hadn't moved in over two hours. I'd like to live just long enough to be there when they cut off your head and stick it on a pike, was running through his head. He'd found that reviewing Babylon 5 scripts helped him get through the pain.

From across the room, Spike licked his lips as he admired how the position shoved Xander's ass high into the air. He thought about grabbing that ass and shoving his cock in. Now, now, he thought to himself. Special night, innit? No need to ruin it by getting impatient. Plans won't wait but we can always do this again.

As he stood, Spike could feel Xander's gaze on him. He could always tell when Xander was watching. It was like heat, a nice, toasty warmth. Putting a smirk on for the effect, no need to let his man get too cocky, he grabbed Xander by the hair to raise his head. “Suck my cock,” he said, tossing Xander to the ground. As Xander undid the button of Spike's jeans with his tongue, Spike remembered how clumsy he'd been the first time. His eyes had begged Spike to, well he wasn't sure what Xander had been begging for. Spike had kept his face impassive, to remind Xander of his place, but he hadn't been able to keep his hands out of Xander's hair, brushing through it with a reassuring touch.

Even Xander's practiced tongue was no match for Spike's tight, tight jeans. He had to use his hands to pull them down far enough to release Spike's cock. As Xander's tongue started circling around the head, Spike, needing to hear a bit of pain, shoved himself down Xander's throat. Caught off guard, Xander choked a bit before relaxing his throat enough that he could withstand Spike's ramming his cock down his throat without choking on it. Spike smiled a genuine smile, now that his lover couldn't see it. Xander had been bad at this too, at first. It had taken him months to learn the trick of sucking cock into his throat without gagging. Spike missed that sound sometimes. As Xander's skills improved, Spike had to continually invent new ways for him to prove his devotion. Not that there weren't rewards to that.

As Xander swallowed around Spike's cock, the heat of it made Spike feel like he was about to explode, but it wasn't enough. Spike yanked on Xander's dark curls, gently so it wouldn't be enough to set off the chip, until Xander whinehowled around him. Holding Xander's head to him, Spike came to the sound of his lover's pain.

As Spike zipped himself back up, Xander, who hadn't been allowed to come, gave him a disappointed look but made no sound of complaint. “Put on your collar,” Spike said, handing it to him. Xander, feeling humiliated by the collar, had hated it at first, but, over time, he'd come to putting it on without a second thought. “And the Gates of Hell.”

Xander stiffened and his face became very neutral. Spike hid a smile; he loved how Xander could make his opinion known without saying a word. “You know I can't while I'm already hard,” he said, in what was, to Spike, a blatant attempt to get out of it.

Spike shrugged. “So? Take care of that, then.”

Xander took the toy into the bathroom. When he came back out, he stood himself before Spike, looking like he was about to make a comment, but wearing the seven rings along the shaft of his cock. “Nice,” Spike said, dragging a finger along the underside of Xander's cock. Xander hissed in response as the rings restrained his growing erection.

With a smirk, Spike walked to the base of the basement stairs and tossed Xander's leather coat over. Grabbing it out of the air, Xander stared at it a moment before asking, “What's this for?”

“We're going out,” Spike said, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Out?” Xander's eyes almost bugged out.

God but he was cute when he was distressed. Spike almost wanted to reach out and reassure him. “Problem?”

Xander looked down at the cock rings. “Dressed like this?”

“You'll have your coat on. Till we get there, anyway.”

Xander crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed. “There? Where is there?”

“It's a surprise, innit?”

Xander looked like he was about to bolt and Spike started wondering if he'd pushed him too fast. He still didn't have Angel's, or Angelus' really, judgment on manipulation, but, after two years of being chipped, he had learned some patience. Spike thought he'd brought Xander along far enough that he'd submit to this but he wasn't completely sure.

Time to bring out the big guns. He gave Xander his shy, I'm-just-about-to-kick-the-grass expression. “Thought we'd do something special, for our anniversary and all.”

“You remembered?”

Spike was shocked and let his face show it. “Of course I remembered.”

“And we have to go out because?”

“Maybe I felt like showing you off. Let all the other blokes see what they can't have.”

Xander sighed. “Look, I–”

With an earnest expression, Spike interrupted. “Don't have to stay long. We can leave anytime you want.”

Xander stared at Spike for so long that Spike had actually started to think Xander would deny him their night out. “Fine, but tonight's safeword is fangless.” In response, Spike merely gestured for Xander to lead the way up the stairs.

Xander bounced with nervous energy as they walked along the streets. “Not gonna take off on me, are you, pet?”

“Where is there to even go out to with me dressed like this?” Xander asked. Then he stopped and gulped. “Hey, this is the way to– No way am I letting anyone in the Bronze see me like this.”

“God but you can be a total pillock sometimes. Do you really think I'd take you to the Bronze for our anniversary?”

“Tons of humiliation for the Xan-man? I could see you going there.”

Spike grabbed Xander's coat and pulled Xander to him. “I don't do humili–”. He blinked a few times and then a slow smirk spread across his lips. “Oh, yeah.” Spike's eyes glazed over until Xander hit him upside the head. “Ow, that's it. No more NCIS for you.” Xander just stared at him with those huge puppy-dog eyes he could do when he really wanted something. “No fair, breaking out the stare,” Spike said and then, with a sigh, he added, “I'm only going to explain this once. I'm not about to humiliate you before a bunch of bloody beer-drinking teenagers. You are a fine wine who only gets ogled by someone who appreciates you, which would be me. Got it?”

“Um, OK?” Xander whispered with a hangdog look.

“Good,” Spike said, taking Xander's arm in his and striding down the street.

They didn't go near the Bronze but veered off down a side street where Spike pulled Xander over to a nondescript door. When he knocked, a peephole opened, just like in those Elliot Nash movies with speakeasies, and Xander heard someone say Spike's name before opening up. The inside wasn't anything like Xander had expected, not that he'd had much of a chance to expect anything. It looked like a men's club, the kind you'd see in historical movies; not that Willow had ever forced him to watch, oh, say dozens. There were leather chairs, patterned rugs, and dark wooden walls. The only difference, and it was a big one, was that most everyone was dressed in leather: corsets, little bits that didn't cover much of anything, chaps. As they walked along, Xander's head turned to follow a pair of pierced nipples. “Oi,” Spike said, yanking him. “You're here with me.”

Xander, turning back towards Spike, noticed they'd moved into another room. His jaw dropped to the floor. A man was on the couch, face down, across the legs of a seated woman. She slapped a paddle down onto his bare ass. Xander hissed as his hardening erection was restrained by the cock rings.

“See something you like?” Spike smirked.

“No,” Xander replied. Darting his eyes around without moving, so it wouldn't look like he was looking, Xander noticed how many people in the room were staring at him like he was fresh meat. Thank God Spike had left him in the coat. “Maybe I just stubbed my toe,” he added, pulling closer to Spike.

My boy's here with me, Spike thought as he puffed out his chest. “We aren't moving,” he said in response to Xander's comment. Then, looking around, he frowned and put a protective arm around Xander. He pulled Xander towards a red door, which he walked through without knocking. Xander's gaze skipped over the bed and bounced between a frame, that was taller than him and with manacles dangling down from the upper corners, and a dark-haired man who looked too much like bondage-guy from the Village People for Xander's comfort.

The man got up from the couch and walked over with his hand out. “Hi, you must be Xander. I'm Paul.”

“Um, hi,” Xander said as they shook hands.

“Coat off,” Spike said. “Time to play.”

“Play?” Xander shrieked. Pulling Spike to him, he whispered, “In case you hadn't noticed, there's a stranger in the room.”

Spike gave him a confused look, with just enough of a hint of a smirk that Xander could tell he was being toyed with. “Whatdya mean, stranger. You just met Paul.”

“Is there a problem?” Paul asked.

“Nah,” Spike said, pulling off Xander's coat. “He's just nervous, is all.”

Paul looked concerned, as if he wasn't buying what Spike had said, and Xander relaxed a bit. “Before we get started,” Paul said, “I need to know that you're OK with whips.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “He's OK with whatever I say he's OK with.”

The phrase lions and tigers and bears transmuted itself into whips and chains and vampires, and danced crazily through Xander's mind until Spike slid up behind him. “Since I can't do it myself.”

Spike's arms, wrapped around him, seemed to offer more protection than the coat had. “Um, whatever Spike wants is fine?” he asked.

Paul's face blanked out at that. “I'll need a safeword.”

“Fangless,” Sipke said before Xander could speak.

Xander turned in Spike's arms until they were face-to-face. “Really?” he asked with a smile.

Spike shrugged but looked pleased. “It's what you wanted.”

Xander turned his head towards Paul and nodded.

“You know there'll be blood, right?” Paul asked.

“Hey, don't give away all the surprises,” Spike shouted.

“Blood?” Xander asked. Spike looked like he'd have been blushing, if he could have. With a deep breath, Xander held tightly onto Spike for a moment before stepping away. “Yeah,” he said with a nod towards Paul. When the other man didn't move, he added, “I'm ready.”

Part Two

“Do you want to be manacled or just hold the chains?” Paul asked.

Aww, Spike looked worried. “I'll hold 'em,” Xander said, grabbing onto the chains so that his arms were spread-eagled. Spike came up behind him, placing a hand on Xander's back. “Um, Spike? Can't really get whipped if you're in the way, which, if you've changed your mind, I can totally live with.”

“You've got your safeword, you can stop anytime,” Paul said as he came around before Xander.

“Um, no, I'm good,” Xander said, looking at the two whips Paul held.

“He's just mouthing off,” Spike added.

Holding up the first whip, Paul said, “OK, then. I'm going to start with the crop because it'll give me more control over how hard I hit you. At first it'll be very light, almost as soft as a tickle, but I'll be hitting you harder and harder as we go. When I switch to this,” he held out a whip that looked, to Xander, like Indiana Jones' whip, “the intensity will jump dramatically. There's no way to hit you lightly with this one. Got it?”

Xander nodded. As Paul walked back behind them, Spike gave Xander a quick hug and whispered, “You'll be OK.”

Xander, waiting for the first lash, scrunched his eyes and bit his lip. When the first stroke fell across his back, he startled. There was another. They felt like– feathers being pulled over his skin. Breathing out a sigh, Xander relaxed as the feather strokes continued to brush across his back.

If Willow could see me now popped into his head. It reminded him of a chat she'd forced on him only a few months after he'd started seeing Spike, and wasn't that an old fashioned expression, started seeing. Still, it wasn't like there was a good or easy way to explain their relationship.

“He's hurting you, Xander,” she'd said.

Xander had so wanted to not be having that conversation, that he just stood there, staring at her and hoping she'd stop soon.

“He's manipulative and controlling and...” She threw her hands up. “He's got a chip, not a soul,” she said as she stormed back and forth across the room. “He can't care about you.” Xander winced at that and Willow held a hand out as if to console him.

Xander forced his crossed arms to straighten out down by his sides. They immediately crossed back up. “You don't think I know that? You think I haven't thought about it time and time again? But here's the thing, Willow. No matter how much he hurts me,” Xander stopped, realizing what he'd just admitted. “And I'm not saying he does hurt me,” he started but, realizing he was just digging the hole deeper, he covered his face with his hands. Hey, maybe I can just hide out here forever, he'd thought until Willow placed her hand gently on his shoulder.


He dropped his hands, not hiding anymore. He remembered how she'd stepped back at the pain on his face. “Here's the thing. No matter what he does to me now, it's going to hurt so much more when he leaves me.”

Willow's eyes widened at that. “You think he's going to leave you?”

“Duh. Look at him and look at me. You're the super genius,” he'd said, tossing out a dagger of his own pain. “You do the math.”

“Ow,” he shouted, drawn out of his memories as the crop landed, much harder now, on his lower back.

“You all right there, pet?” Spike asked as the lash struck him again. His body tensed at the shock of it.

“Um, yeah?” He paused as the lash hit him again. “I just-” He paused again. “Wasn't exp-” Pause. “ecting it-” Pause. “To hurt-” Pause. “So much.”

As the lashes continued, he didn't try to hold back but let out whimpers, hisses, and screams. That's what this was all about, right, and Spike was probably eating up all that pain, but the pain was nothing next to the hurt. He could feel it roiling up in his belly: his father's cutting words; his mother drinking herself into oblivion, never there for him, never there to protect him; the other kids laughing that time the baseball had hit his head and he'd been rushed off to the nurse's office; never being good enough, at anything – Willow always being so super perfect, showing how stupid he was and wasn't that a terrible thing to think; Buffy drooling over the oh-so-perfect Angel, stupid vampire; and Spike. His thoughts stopped there. He could still feel the anger burning a hole through him but his thoughts were clear. Spike had never hurt him. Oh, hell yeah, Spike had caused him pain, but that wasn't the same thing.

The lashes had stopped and, in that moment of perfect clarity, he wondered, why, why would he do that? Why hasn't he hurt me?

Xander heard a something whistling through the air and then the world pitched under his feet at the pain of it. He screamed. He felt the anger vomiting out of him. As his hands let go of the chains, he looked down, expecting to see the anger or at least some puke at his feet, but there was nothing there. “Huh?” he asked as he slipped to the floor.

Spike caught him before he hit the ground. “Pet? Xander? You OK?”

“Yeah?” Xander asked.

“I got you,” Spike told him from very far away. “Shhh, it's over now. Let's get you on the bed.”

“Gonna have your wicked way with me?” Xander could see only the darkness through his shut eyes but the bed felt solid beneath him. He buried his face in the pillow, wondering why he was on his tummy. Did Spike want to make sure all that anger drained out? It's possible it would pool up if he were on his back.

Spike laid a hand on his lower back. His thumb circled lazy trails. It was just a featherweight of a touch but it was even more solid than the bed. “You still alive in there?” Spike asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Xander replied. “I'm just gonna lay here, all relaxed and happy with you touching me.”

“Yeah, you're OK,” Spike said, sounding oddly pleased. “You ready to move on?”

Xander chuckled. “You are going to have your wicked way with me.” He heard footsteps and then the door opening and closing but that must have been Paul leaving because Spike's hand was still on his back.

“Something like that.”

Xander winced as the pressure of Spike's hand increased and then he felt Spike licking just below his left shoulder. What the? Oh, yeah. Blood. “How's it taste?”

He felt Spike sit up and heard, “I,” but then Spike was unnaturally silent. Xander tried to keep his eyes open but they kept drifting shut, only to flutter open, again and again. He was barely awake to hear it when Spike finally responded. “Leave but a drop in the cup, and I'll not look for wine.”

“Oh, good. I'm glad you like it,” Xander said between yawns.

“Oh, you are worn out if you understood that,” Spike replied.

The next thing Xander knew, Spike was lying next to him on the bed. Just staring at him. Yawning with a huge stretch, Xander rolled over to face Spike and said, “Hey, my back feels better.”

“Course it does,” Spike said. “Vamp spit heals.”

“Can I say, ewww?”

Spike reached out and brushed Xander's hair back. “Can say anything you want, pet.”

Xander glanced around the room. There was nothing to tell him the time. “How long was I out?”

Spike shrugged. “About an hour.”

“Which you spent licking blood off my back,” Xander said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Don't be stupid, well, stupider than you have to be. I just said my spit healed you up. Wound was closed before you dozed off.”

Xander closed his mouth with a conscious effort. “You didn't get much then.”

Shrugging again, Spike said, “It was enough.”

“So, you got more than a drop then,” Xander said, so overwhelmed by the intimacy of what Spike had just said that he had to make a joke of it.

“A drop is enough. Hell, none is enough, as long as I've got you.”

Spike's words rolled through Xander's mind. Leave but a drop. None is enough. Why does he do these things to me?

“Not that I wouldn't mind trying it again.”

Oh, thank God. We're back to something I can deal with. “There was some mention of next?” Xander asked, reaching out and laying his hand on Spike's chest.

Spike's gaze became very intimate. “That there was.” He looked down, as if embarrassed, but when he looked back up, his expression was frank. “But first, our anniversary exchange.” Xander started to babble that he hadn't brought Spike's gift with him, but Spike shushed him with a finger across the lips. “You answer my question and I'll answer anything you ask. Who goes first?”

Xander hugged himself to Spike. “You ask, but whisper it.”

“Do you regret being with me?”

Spike tried to pull away, to see his lover's reaction, but Xander held him tight. “No,” Xander whispered back. “Never. I've never regretted–” he trailed off. Letting go of the hold, Xander kissed Spike roughly.

As Spike's tongue slipped into Xander's mouth, Spike reached out wildly until he found the lube. A few moments later, Spike rolled onto his back and pulled Xander on top of himself. Easing the tip of his cock into Xander's ass, he said, “Your turn to ask.”

“Now?” Xander shouted, almost desperately.


Xander gestured vaguely around the room. “Why?”

Spike shoved his hips up, slamming Xander's prostrate three times in quick succession. Xander was gasping as Spike slowly inched his cock downwards but not quite pulling out of Xander. “Oh my love, you still don't see it, do you? While the chip may have limited what I can do, my heart's what it's always been – as black as sin.”

No, Xander thought. It's not. “Still the Big Bad?”

“Your Big Bad,” Spike replied as Xander, ever so slowly, slipped down and then back up on his cock.


“Only. Always.” Spike pulled Xander down for a kiss.

“That's alright, then,” Xander whispered against Spike's lips.

The End

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