Happy belated birthday, vamptastica. Not exactly *kinky* but...it's the best I've got right now. :)
Oh, and read the template. Specifically the warnings. *snicker*
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel the Series
Characters: Spike/uh...inanimate object that vibrates. And no, not the obvious thing.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Mutant Enemy or Joss Whedon or any of those uber rich people came up with on the show, especially because I don't make money off any of what I write. I weep for the injustice of it all. *delicate crystalline tear* But, I do enjoy playing with Spike and his various shagging partners. However, anything I do happen to come up with on my own is mine and I really don't like to share because I'm a possessive bitch.
Betaed: A big honking thank you to toobusy2write for the recent read through b/c Ame's beta ((Ame, you did beta this, didn't you?? I can't for the life of me remember!) had been a while and I needed fresh eyes. *humps*
Prompt: 57.Phone Encounter
Warnings: Uh. I have no words. Though, if you're squeamish about inanimate objects that aren't obvious sexual tools being sexual tools, don't read. *smiles brightly*
Summary: Spike's taking care of something for Xander.
Note: Yeah. Don't ask.
Note numero dos: I know
Pairing: None. Spike and Xander non-friendship
Something dropped onto his crotch and Spike did the only thing a man in his position could've, or would've, done.
He yelped and grabbed his groin protectively wondering 'What the fucking hell?' and 'Christ, I hope there's no permanent damage! Better not fucking be! My dick's my favourite bit!' and 'Holy shit, things getting close to the family jewels like that without warning are fucking scary. At least without my express permission beforehand.'
His gaze narrowed in anger and he squinted up at Xander, who was currently holding his stomach and laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.
"The hell are you laughing at, git? You nearly emasculated me with your..." He grabbed for whatever it was that had landed smack in the middle of his lap as he'd been sprawled on Xander's sofa bed pretending to watch TV when in actuality he'd been listening to the boy placate his boss.
Funny shit, Xander's lame-assed excuses as to why he was often late or didn't show up all together. Better than telly.
"Yeah, about that: I want you to keep it at your side all day and take any messages -- last time I turned it off Willow came, babbled, and nearly sent my last boss into insanity, which is what essentially got me fired come to think of it... Anyway, I can't take it to work this time. Or, well, any other time because my boss kind of has it in for me, now. I'd like to keep this job for as long as possible. It's nice to be able to actually buy food and soothe the parentals with my meager monetary offerings because being thrown out by my dad for not paying what's 'owed to him' isn't at the top of my favourites list."
Spike's eyebrows rose and he snorted. "Like hell. I'm not your bloody secretary. Think I give a toss if you're thrown out on your ever-widening ass?"
"Well, let's see ... if you don't? I'm not bringing anymore blood. You can starve to dust for all I care." Xander smiled dangerously, leaning forward. "And you'd get thrown out on your bony ass as sure as I would because you'd have nowhere to go to mooch, would you?"
Spike glared at Xander. Xander stared down at him smugly as he slipped keys into his pocket and shrugged into an ugly bright lime green and orange polyester uniform shirt.
Spike's lip curled upward in a snarl. "Fine. Be that way." He sniffed. "Probably won't get any calls anyway. It's not as if anybody likes you."
"Like you're one to talk, you stupid, chipped vampire." Xander rolled his eyes. "Not that it's any of your business but I got six calls in a row from five different people yesterday and my boss wasn't too happy about that interrupting my work. He said if I brought the phone in again to leave it off and I can't do that because there might be an emergency -- apocalypse, anyone? If you're here to answer and tell who ever's calling what's the what and take a message, then it's fine. You can call me at work -- number's on the fridge -- if it's that important. I'll deal with the rest later."
"Why don't you put it in your sodding car, anyway? Not like it'd clutter the place what with the three weeks worth of dirty clothing and fast food wrappers and shite in there. Don't know how you even fit in there with all that crap."
"First: my car's in the shop. Second: I'd probably lose it. Third: my car is lived in and I don't care what you think, anyway."
Xander ascended the stairs and opened the door. "If I have any missed calls it'll be your lily white, non-resistant to flame, vampire ass, Spike."
And then he was gone and Spike was sighing, dropping the phone back into his lap for easy access because apparently he was playing secretary for the day or he wouldn't eat.
He loathed being dependent upon these sodding kids and their wrinkly-assed old Watcher.
If he wasn't so pissed at the boy he'd respect him for that type of extortion.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his dick started vibrating in what was...not exactly an unpleasant way.
He sat there a bit, spreading his legs and sinking down with glassy, narrowed eyes, until he remembered what the buzzing most likely was and that he should probably do something about it.
In a minute.
Sighing, he flipped open the phone after a while, scowled at the caller ID and punched 'talk'.
His erection wilted immediately. Nothing was a boner-killer like slutty the superbitch.
"What?" he snarled, drumming his fingers on his thigh.
"Why do you have Xander's phone, Spike?" Buffy demanded in lieu of hello. Bint always had been rude. "If you've somehow managed to kill him despite your chip you are so dead when I find you."
Spike snorted and rolled his head along the back of the couch. Ceiling could use a good patching and paint job. "Like I'd answer his ruddy phone if I'd managed to off him, you stupid cow. I'd be off celebrating and bathing in the blood of the innocent, and the annoyingly stupid like you. What do you want?"
"I wanted to talk to Xan, obviously. Where the hell is he?"
"Stop your bitching, Slayer. He's off making minimum wage at his crappy job. Couldn't take his phone because it pissed off his boss and left it here for me to play secretary. What the hell do you want?"
Buffy sighed and he could hear her teeth grind. "It wasn't important." Then, much softer, "We didn't know we were getting him in trouble. I'll call Willow and Giles and tell them not to call during his work hours anymore. If it's an emergency, well... I guess we'll have to deal until he can get out of work. I don't want him to lose his job because of us. I know he needs--"
He snapped the phone shut, cutting her off mid-sentence, and settled back to watch telly.
The phone rang a few times seconds later, then stopped when it was obvious he wasn't going to pick up.
A few hours later, the phone had actually rung multiple times, though the display always read 'blocked call', or 'unknown caller' or what the fuck ever. Of course, he never answered those, just...let it... Ring.
A few hours later, Spike was...entranced by the effect the phone was having on his groin.
Spike didn't answer any of the obvious telemarketing schemers but he did answer the one that said 'Poppa Pluto's Pizza-licious-osity' because he knew it was Xander calling to check up on him.
"Xander's phone. Loser's not here right now but leave a message that I won't write down and fuck off so I can get back to watching telly. Fucking beep."
"I know you know it's me, asshole."
"What do you want? I'm busy."
"Yeah, I'm sure you're real busy with the watching of soap operas and sitting on your ass doing nothing," came Xander's sarcastic voice.
"Sod off." Beat. "Could've been wanking, for all you knew."
"Aaaand, pretending like I didn't just hear something that scarred me for life... I just called to see if you were actually doing what I asked. Gotta go, though, because my break's almost over."
"Have a good day at work, dear."
"Shut up, Spike."
The phone buzzed pleasurably in his lap again an hour later and he growled, flipped it open with a flick of his wrist and glared at the screen.
Unknown caller. Another one.
Where the fuck were these people coming from, anyway? Weren't cell phone numbers unlisted?
Well, everyone the boy knew was known so he wasn't answering it.
Back the phone went into his lap where he enjoyed the vibrations.
It didn't stop for quite some time -- stubborn buggers -- and he was panting and tense by the time it did.
His cock was hard, balls tight and tingling, and he couldn't help but think that mobiles were nearly as good as vibrators.
And they were a lot less conspicuous sex toys, besides.
Then, he formulated a plan that was bloody brilliant even if he did said so himself, to himself.
He flipped the phone open, ignored the picture of Buffy, Willow and Xander on screen in favour of memorizing Xander's cell number.
He grabbed Xander's land-line cordless and put the cell back into his lap.
He let it ring until it stopped.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, blinking owlishly down at his lap and the tiny phone, then at his throbbing prick. "That's... well..."
He stuffed the phone down his jeans this time and pressed re-dial, adjusting to the cold metal touching his sensitive bits with a rotation of his hips that was in no way a girlish squirm.
The phone rang and rang and rang. His balls tingled pleasantly as it buzzed tenaciously against them.
He didn't mind the temperature of the metal, anymore. Felt good against his flesh.
He had to press redial again and again. But, fuck, was it worth it.
By the time Xander's mobile had rung about two hundred times, Spike was stiffening, gasping, and rolling his hips up into the vibrations as he came with a satisfying groan, teeth clenching, fingers digging into the dirty, ragged cushions of the couch.
He absently dropped the cordless phone back into its cradle and massaged his stomach with the tips of his fingers as his orgasm dissipated.
He felt relaxed and sated. Had a bit of a dry mouth from panting.
Couldn't be bothered to get up to quench his thirst at the mo', though. He needed to rest his eyes a bit.
He must've dozed off because the next thing he knew he heard keys in the door and he still had Xander's cell down his pants in a puddle of his sticky, but drying, cum.
He swiftly flew into the bathroom, cleaned himself and the phone, then was back in place by the time Xander had stepped inside.
Playing innocent, he looked at Xander with a bored expression, left leg swaying back and forth a bit, telly still flickering.
The phone was on the coffee table -- innocuous, still, so not used to get his rocks off.
Spike didn't look at it as Xander snatched it up and flipped it open.
"Why the hell is this thing wet?" Xander demanded, rubbing his wet hand on his jeans, then wiping the phone off with the tail of his shirt.
Spike shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek. "No idea, mate. Maybe I dropped it in the toilet. Was pretty boring and had to entertain myself somehow, right?"
Xander glared at him and then looked his phone over. "It still works... Couldn't have been submerged, at least for long. And, hey, why in God's name did you call my phone... Seventy-six times in a row?!"
Spike blinked. He hadn't known it was quite that much.
"Thought I lost it. Had to call it to find it. You know how it is."
"Seventy-six times?!" he spluttered, dark eyes big. "How the hell'd you lose it, anyway?"
Spike affected a bored expression, shrugging. "Cells are tiny, you know. Easy to lose. Had no idea I'd called it that many times, though. Just dialed and let it ring till the buzzing led me to it. Should be grateful I made the effort to find the sodding thing in the first place. Could've just let it stay lost."
"Ugh! I really hate you." Xander stomped off, with his phone, into the bathroom.
Spike held up two fingers lazily, then let his arm drop down onto the cushion.
Minutes later, he heard the shower start.
Could do with one of those. Maybe use up all that nice, hot water and have a real wank.
Then, again, that detachable shower-head Xander'd sprung a pretty penny for looked to be promising.
Probably be better than a tiny mobile, and more versatile, too...
Here Endeth the Story
|Feed the Author|
|Home||Categories||New Stories||Non Spander|