Warnings: dirty talk, slight come play, mild somnophilia/sleeploitation
Disclaimer: We aren't Joss and have never claimed to be.
Notes: written for slashfest 2007.
Summary/prompt: Xander has a broken leg. Spike gets stuck with nursemaid duty. Unexpected perks include Xander reacting unusually to the pain meds - amorously or completely truthful or whatever you decide.
Beta reading by slashpuppy and a2zmom.
Margie and Xanphibian
The cast was heavy; that was the biggest problem.
Xander had broken some minor bones before. His wrist once when he fell badly from his skateboard at thirteen. He'd cracked ribs, thanks to some powerful baddies who liked to throw him into walls. He'd had lacerations and hematomas, enough that he'd picked up the lingo at least, and at least two concussions that he could remember. It had probably been more, but he was bad at remembering the aftermath of certain types of head wounds. Last year he'd wrenched his knee out of joint and he'd been high on painkillers, but it hadn't been that bad; Anya had fussed over him for days and the sex had been fantastic. But this kind of pain, the kind that really had Xander understanding the term 'bone deep' for the first time in his life, was something new. It hurt. Xander wished he could come up with something a lot more clever to describe the pain that he was feeling, but ‘hurt’ pretty much covered it, and he was too sore to look in his mental thesaurus.
But beyond the pain -- because hey, he had pills for that and they were starting to kick in -- was the clumsiness of the cast. He'd never had to deal with a huge, heavy cast on his leg before. It even looked stupid, now that Dawn had drawn the little Hello Kitty cartoon on it. She could barely wait to 'sign' his cast as soon as she and Buffy and Willow had shown up at the hospital, but instead of her girly signature, she'd doodled the cartoon. She even borrowed a hot pink highlighter from the nurses' station to complete the indignity. The crutches were pretty bad, too. It might have been better had they been a different color -- jet black with a neon blue racing stripe, maybe? -- or if the ridiculously thin padding made the crutches the least bit comfortable. He wondered if he could get away with strapping a couple of pillows under his arms without looking like a complete moron.
So, the rundown: the cast was dorky looking and stupid, the crutches were uncomfortable and stupid, the pain was stupidly horrible, and Xander was on his way home where he had to deal with his stupid houseguest, Spike. Spike, who never left. Spike, who was probably right now as Xander thought about it sprawling on Xander's sofa, watching Xander's television, drinking blood out of Xander's favorite Three Stooges mug. He had probably already raided the fridge and the cabinets and eaten all of Xander's favorite snacks, and there would be dishes piled in the sink (if they even got back to the kitchen at all) and chip bags and Little Debbie wrappers everywhere.
"Are you feeling all right, Xander?"
He realized he'd made a sort of growling sound while anticipating the state of his apartment, and now Giles was looking at him with concern. He shrugged. "Just thinking about the last time I hurt myself. I doubt Spike will be as content to play nursemaid as Anya was." Although the thought of Spike running around in the short little lacy number Anya had picked out for the occasion was doing strange things to his pulse.
Giles made a noise that was half laughter and half cough. "Yes. I seem to remember her telling everyone about that," he said, and Xander had to hide his face in his hands. While Anya's bluntness had been a godsend in some situations -- they'd never have gotten together if she hadn't been so Anya about everything -- he didn't miss the way she'd tell everyone who'd listen (and everyone who didn't) every detail of their sex life.
"Are we there yet?" Xander asked in a desperate bid for a change in subject.
Giles rarely teased. He was serious most of the time, but when he did choose to go after someone and 'take the piss' or whatever he called it, he was really good at it. "Do you suppose your reaction to pain medication will reassert itself? As I recall, Anya was quite impressed with your amorous attentions." Was he smirking?
Xander tried to laugh it off. "I guess it'll be a little hard to jump Spike's bones since I can't even jump," he said. He could feel complete mortification set in. Had he just made a joke about attacking Spike sexually? And oh god, was Giles smirking at him? Xander wasn’t sure the day could get any worse.
"Do you need help getting in?"
"I think I can handle m'self," Xander said, gritting his teeth. He was already slurring his words. Maybe he would go straight to bed when he got in and avoid Spike altogether. "Might as well get used to the crutches early."
Giles dropped him off -- he could have at least waited to see if Xander had made it to his door on the stupid crutches after offering to walk him up -- and drove away. Xander was left hopping to his doorstep, digging for his keys, dropping a crutch, and then giving up and knocking on his own door.
When Spike opened the door, he took one look at him and snorted. "What got you this time?" he said, and his mouth was smirking in that way that always said he'd gotten one over on someone or else he was desperately enjoying someone else's pain and misery. It was worse than the smirk Giles had given him since Xander knew all the malevolent thoughts that crept behind this one.
"Shut it," Xander grumbled. "I had an acc'dent at work. Someone dropped a steel beam on m' leg."
Obligingly, Spike stepped out of the way, holding the door open as Xander hobbled his way inside. Xander was feeling grouchy and frustrated, so he didn't bother saying thank you.
"Know you aren't the brightest in the bunch, but aren't you supposed to use these for getting about?" Spike reached down and grabbed the crutch that had fallen to the floor.
"Ha ha." Xander made his way, a bit clumsily now that the meds he'd taken right before he'd left the hospital were kicking in and he was one crutch down, to the sofa and sank into the cushions with a sigh of relief. He'd try to make it to the bedroom soon. Any minute now.
He frowned when he saw his Three Stooges mug sitting on the coffee table, a thin layer of congealing blood at its bottom. He was too tired and sore to argue about it, though he did give Spike a dirty look when he joined Xander on the couch. It didn't matter, though. He wondered, since single vision was failing him, if he glared at the right Spike.
"I don't s'pose I can talk you into gettin' up and gettin' me a beer?" Xander said, wincing at the words he couldn't help slurring. Stupid pills. He had to take them, or else he'd be moaning loudly about his misery and the evil of construction sites, but he was hoping this time would be different from the last, considering he was alone in the apartment with Spike, of all people. But is that really a problem? his traitorous libido whispered.
Spike snorted. "Either you've gone and got yourself concussed on top of breaking your leg, or you're on some kind of drugs for the pain. Prob'ly not a good idea to be adding alcohol to that." Xander took a moment to wonder if Spike was on drugs all the time, since his speech was that mangled all the time.
"Didn't do it to m'self," Xander protested. "And drugs're good." His vision wasn't too blurry to see Spike's lips quirk into a smile. Or was that another smirk?
"Yeah, drugs are good. Where'd you put 'em?"
Xander blinked. "I swallowed 'em."
"The bottle, you prat," Spike said, and while Xander's eyes were drifting closed, he definitely heard an eyeroll in that question. "Where's the bottle?"
"Not stealing m' drugs," Xander mumbled.
Spike snorted, watching as Xander's eyes drifted closed and then popped open again. "Don't want to steal them, you twit," Spike said, reaching over to pat Xander's pockets.
Bloody hell. Dealing with Xander Harris on a good day was a chore, but now that the prat had gone and gotten himself injured, Spike was going to have to take care of him. (Well, take care of him in his own way.) Spike had pretty much claimed Xander as his personal human, after all. He lived off Xander now, pretty much. The boy -- and no matter what his age, that's what he was to Spike, a boy and a sarcastic little brat -- kept a roof over his head (although he claimed constantly what a leech Spike was, he never actually kicked him out), procured his blood (none of that chicken shite either; it was either human or cow these days), and had redone the extra room (Xander called it a closet, but it was a lot bigger than that) and put in a comfy bed. Xander took care of him, and Spike had never shown any outward gratitude. So Spike took care of Xander right back, in his own way, and they kept it squared like that without any discussion.
Xander made a half-hearted attempt to bat Spike away, but eventually gave in, going limp beneath Spike's questing hands. Spike raised a brow at that, but then shrugged it away. He finally found the bottle in the left pocket of Xander's jeans. He'd keep hold of the pills, and make sure Xander got them on time.
Xander never wore tight jeans, which is why Spike hadn't noticed the bulge sooner. But, it was still a bit of a struggle trying to get his hands into the pocket.
Spike looked up when Xander started chuckling. "What?"
Xander's lids were at half-mast, fluttering the tiniest bit as he grinned in a completely dopey way. "Is that your hand in my pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he asked, and then chuckled some more.
"That doesn't make any bloody sense," Spike said, but grinned down at him. "You're high. 'S even funnier than when you're drunk."
"You think I'm being funny?" Xander asked, and he grabbed Spike's wrist and twisted it so that something that was definitely not a pill bottle was pressed firmly against the palm of Spike's hand.
"What's this then?" Spike smirked. He was a bit surprised at Xander's boldness, but it wasn't too much worse than some of the things Xander had said and done while drunk, either. Flexing his fingers, Spike grinned when Xander's head tilted back and a soft whimper escaped his lips.
Xander turned dark eyes on Spike, grinning. "'S my cock," he said, slurring the words a little and thrusting his hips.
Spike couldn't help the burst of laughter at Xander's ridiculously obvious statement. "Yeah, I figured that out," he said, smiling down at the enticing picture Xander made. Of course, Xander never did anything like this when he was sober, but usually when he was drunk he was a bit more on the needy side, more hugging and smooching than grabbing and grinning like he was doing now. Spike couldn't help but wonder which was the real Xander Harris. Deep inside, was the boy a snuggly little bottom, or a bossy, demanding top? Spike was all for sex, no matter where or how he found it, but he was more inclined to stick around for the latter.
As if he were agreeing with everything Spike was thinking, Xander sat back a little bit more on the sofa and let go of Spike's wrist. "You c'n take it out 'n play, y'know," Xander told him. He was biting his bottom lip, and it looked plump and tasty underneath his teeth. Spike couldn't help but lean in and get a nibble of his own. Xander gasped a little and his mouth opened up beneath Spike's, hot and tasting a little bittersweet like coffee and cream. Spike didn't turn down sex, and the boy was making a blatant invitation. While Spike tasted and licked that hot, human mouth, his fingers were making fast work of Xander's trousers.
The cock under his hand -- in his hand, now -- was hot, too, and sweaty, and the head was wet. Spike wanted to taste that as well, but couldn't bring himself to pull away from Xander's mouth.
That is, until Xander was pushing him that way, down until Spike's head was in Xander's lap, and Xander had his hands fisted in Spike's hair, pulling a little too hard but just right. Fuck, he was gonna have to get this boy drugs more often. Spike had known Xander for years, and he knew he'd never move this fast on a normal day. Hell, he knew he'd never even consider this on a normal day, but Spike was all about seizing the moment and never passing up a chance to shag. Xander was probably going to stake him tomorrow if he didn't talk fast, but he'd think about that situation when it happened. Right now, Xander was pushing and moaning and nearly gagging for it, so Spike was going to give his human what he wanted.
Spike licked at the head of Xander's cock, tasting the salty pre-come. Xander groaned above him, hands tightening in Spike's hair. It stung, making Spike gasp an unnecessary breath along Xander's shaft.
"Suck me, Spike," Xander whined, and it only made Spike even harder. It was even better than begging. "Come on. Come on, comeoncomeon!"
Spike swallowed the tip, rubbing the flat of his tongue against the sensitive skin just beneath the head. Xander's hips bucked, thrusting his cock almost halfway into Spike's mouth.
Moaning, Spike reached for his own zipper, freeing himself.
Xander was mumbling demands and groaning above him. Spike abandoned his own cock to play with Xander's balls as he took him deeper.
"Mmm, 's good, suck it, lemme fuck your mouth," Xander was saying, pulling Spike's head forward while he pushed in. Spike was glad he had the no-breathing clause written into his vampire contract. Xander was a pushy little human, and Spike had to wonder -- was hoping -- if this was how he was when he really let go. The words coming out of the boy's mouth were filthy and sexy as hell.
Spike growled a little around Xander's cock -- well, he meant to growl, but even to his own ears it sounded more like a whimper. Xander seemed to hear it, too.
"Like that, don't you?" Xander slurred, pushing into Spike's mouth again, holding his head just the way he wanted. As high as he was, he certainly was in control of the situation. "Want you to swallow my come like a good little slut," he murmured. Spike would normally take offense at the slut comment, but he was too busy moaning his appreciation all over and around the cock in his throat.
Spike couldn't help reaching for his own cock again, surprised and even more aroused when Xander slapped his hand away.
"Not 'til you make me come," Xander said, making Spike shiver.
Christ, the little shit was hot when he used that tone of voice, making Spike cater to his pleasure before taking his own. Fuck.
Spike pressed his hands to Xander's thighs and pushed them wider, careful of Xander's cast. It was thick and heavy and in Spike's way, so he shifted Xander as carefully as possible, trying to give him the best angle for thrusting, for fucking Spike's mouth.
"Yeah, fucking slut. 'S right, make it easier. Wan' it harder, don't you? Wan' me t' ram my prick down your cock-hungry throat, huh?" Xander's words were forceful, if a bit slurred.
Spike could only groan his agreement. His own cock was throbbing with every word. Xander must have had some kind of mind-reading ability. He hadn't been called a slut in a long time, no one ever had the rocks to say it to him. The fact that Xander was saying it, and was giving absolutely no apologies for it, was doing some intense things to Spike's libido.
"Like you when you can' talk back," Xander mused, twisting and pulling Spike's hair, taking fistfuls of it and just using Spike's face like it was made for fucking. "So pretty with my dick 'n your mouth." Then he shoved, hard, and came down Spike's throat, all thick and hot and bitter.
Spike swallowed and sucked, then pulled back to pump Xander's cock with his hand to milk every last drop. He licked his lips, making sure he had everything there, too, leaned against Xander's lap, his cheek on the damp, softening cock. His own erection was needy and painful. He wanted to wank and come all over the boy. His belly and his chest and his face. He looked up, wanting to kiss Xander again so the boy could taste himself in it.
Xander was half-lying, half-sitting on the sofa, his pants open, shirt rucked up, asleep. The little shit was snoring.
Not that it changed Spike's plans any.
Spike stood, straddling Xander's good leg, wary of his cast. He spent a few arousing moments thrusting, rubbing his hard cock against Xander's spent one.
When it wasn't enough, when he finally needed more to get himself off, he stood again. He gripped himself, wishing that there was a way to rub the tip of his cock all over Xander's slack lips, but that was something that would have to wait for another time.
Instead he started to jerk off, wanking himself slowly at first. He sped up a little when Xander mumbled something in his sleep, his head moving from side to side. The image of Xander spent and still open, his cock soft against his thigh, was so fucking hot that it didn't take Spike long to come.
He gasped, reaching forward to raise Xander's shirt and pull his boxers down a little, just enough to fully expose his groin. Then he came, spurting all over Xander's naked skin.
Xander woke up on the sofa, a blanket from his bedroom thrown over him. His head ached and his leg ached, so he groaned a little and rubbed his face. What time was it? And why was he asleep on the sofa and not warm and snuggly in his bed? Spike must have just left him there after he'd passed out.
Huh. That was funny. He seemed to have acquired some strange, fuzzy memory of Spike's head in his hands while ... er. Right. The bark of incredulous laughter that came from his own mouth sounded a little weird. Insane-weird. He probably shouldn't do that again.
It was funny, the fuzzy memory, but it was also incredibly hot. Did Spike really--? And had Xander really said--? And neither of them was dead or sporting a further injury? He looked around, but Spike wasn't there. Xander whipped the blanket off himself and stopped. He looked down at the way his pants were still open and at the way his shirt was lying there up on his chest. And at the dried come that had to have come from a certain vampire, because Xander knew his own had gone straight down said vampire's throat.
Well, there wasn't anything he could really do about it, was there? He'd been high, it had happened, and there really wasn't any going back. Although I think I'd like to try that when I'm not so loopy I can barely speak.
Xander pulled his shirt down and buttoned his pants, rolling a little on the couch to reach for his crutches. Everything was sore and painful and he wished for more pills, but after last night figured maybe he should do without them for a while.
He grunted as he heaved himself off the couch, head spinning just a little. When it cleared, he made his way down the hall, pushing the bedroom door open with one of his crutches.
His throat went dry when he caught sight of Spike lying in his bed, totally and completely naked. Not that he should have been surprised at the naked part after the memory flashes he'd gotten of last night. Oh, yeah, and the dried come all over his belly.
Part of his brain wanted to curse Spike for being such a pervert that he'd jacked off on Xander while he was asleep, but then the bigger part of his brain reminded him of some of the filthy things he'd said last night, not to mention the mental image of Spike doing that over Xander's unsuspecting and vulnerable body was just a little ... hot. What Spike was doing in Xander's bed instead of his own was a question that needed answering, but he'd think about that later.
Xander managed to hobble into the bathroom and strip down to his boxers. It was awkward getting his pants off over the cast, but he made it and threw them into the trash can. They were ruined, anyway, cut off at the knee on one leg, and it wasn't really the right time of year for a pair of shorts. He cleaned himself up, did his regular bathroom business, and then cleaned up a bit more before brushing his teeth and heading back to the bedroom.
Spike was still there, sleeping. Naked. Xander wanted to be pissed off, wanted to kick him out. But, he remembered the things he'd said last night, and the fact that he'd pretty much been the one to start it. Not to mention the fact that Spike looked almost as if he was waiting for Xander. Naked. In Xander's bed.
So, he just leaned his crutches against the wall by the bed and slowly sank onto the mattress. He looked over at Spike, the blankets resting low on his hips just enough to show the top curve of his buttocks, and his pale, smooth skin.
Before he realized it, Xander was reaching out to run a finger down Spike's spine.
Spike's skin was cool and so smooth like creamy white silk sheets or something. Not like Xander's own, which was more like a rough flannel work-shirt. Maybe it was the contrast that felt so good, Xander's callused fingertips against all that softness.
Not that Spike was all soft. Underneath that amazing skin were firm, lithe muscles, and Xander wanted nothing more than to feel them flex and stretch under his touch.
And then they were, Spike's back arching like a cat into Xander's touch. He almost snatched his hand away, but then Spike's eyes opened and met his, and Xander couldn't move.
His hand was at the small of Spike's back, palm cupping the supple flesh just where it curved into the firm cheeks that formed Spike's ass.
Spike didn't say a word, just raised one brow in question.
Hot and confused and hard and surprised, Xander blurted, "I woke up with your come on my stomach." Then he blushed. Maybe it wasn't all the drugs that made him so blunt after all.
Spike's lips curled up in a lazy smile and he licked his lips and looked down Xander's body. "'S not there now," he said calmly. Calm! How could he be so calm when they were talking about-- but then Xander reminded himself he had his hand on Spike's butt and it didn't bother him so much. Except that he wanted to pinch one of those tight cheeks in retaliation. No, not pinch. Slap. Yes, that was a much better idea, he thought as he pushed the sheet down a bit and exposed more of that white skin.
At the crack sound, Spike startled and his eyes widened. Xander grinned at him. "Shove over," he said, and arranged himself a little more comfortably on the bed. "I'm practically an invalid. You should be catering to my every whim."
Spike snorted and moved over, but he didn't move too far. He was still within easy touching distance, and for some reason Xander wanted to take advantage of that fact.
"I know you aren't still high 'cause I hid your drugs," Spike said, but his eyes were questioning.
"Hey," Xander said, offended. "Who said you could hide my drugs?"
Spike gave him one of those 'you're a moron' looks. "Vampire. Don't need your bloody permission."
Xander figured he was right, but he still give him an indignant look that ended up turning into a smirk. He could smirk, too. "Didn't you like the results?" He palmed Spike's ass again, squeezing softly this time.
Spike looked wary, but didn't move away. In fact, he curled a little closer, shifting onto his side. Xander could feel the heat of his erection practically burning his flesh.
"Want another go then, do you?" Spike leered, his hand already reaching for Xander's shaft.
"Yes," Xander said vehemently, which was just another example of his mouth working before his brain knew better than to let it. He flushed again and gestured to his leg. "Can't move around too much, though." Then Spike's hand was down his boxers, his cool fingers wrapping around his hard, feverish flesh, and he made a sound that came from his chest and not his throat, like there was a demon inside him instead of Spike.
"We can work around that," Spike said, and moved in to kiss Xander.
Despite Spike's having just woken up, his mouth wasn't disgusting. It was a little strong tasting, but Xander thought that was more a Spike thing than a morning thing, because it wasn't bad, just different. Everything about this was different, and now that Xander was completely sober he could appreciate that more. Spike was strong, and hard in places Anya never had been, and he kissed like a guy -- a little too rough to be gentle, a little too ... something. Xander thought the closest word to describe it was dark, like a taste of black magic or death, only not so uncomfortable to think about. He wasn't sure if that was because Spike was a guy or if it was the vampire thing.
Xander pulled Spike closer, wanting more, then whimpered in pain when too much pressure landed on his upper thigh. "Fuck!"
Spike immediately shifted, but instead of getting more comfortable with Xander, he got up and stood over him, looking down. "You do need to be taking more of those wonder drugs, though. Don't want you hurting, do we?"
Huh. Tough decision. Be loopy and get sex, or be in pain but be able to enjoy it a bit more. "I don't like how they make me feel," Xander said.
"I like how you feel on them just fine," Spike drawled.
Xander rolled his eyes. "What, you think you can't get laid unless I'm high?"
"I don't know," Spike said slowly. His gaze was intense, like he was trying to read Xander's mind. "Can I?"
Xander tried to smile, but it was difficult under that look. Spike was never serious like this, not with Xander. "I'm not going to stake you, if that's what you're worried about."
"Didn't think that," Spike said, but his relief was a little too apparent to give much truth to his words. "But you're hurting. I should get you something."
"Advil, then. Two, extra strength." That should take the edge off without taking his senses with it. "And what are you doing in my bed?"
"Bloke can hope, yeah?" Spike answered. So he had been waiting. And since he'd said he was hoping, that meant he hadn't been waiting to do anything bad like setting Xander on fire, which had to mean he had liked what they'd done last night, despite the fact that Xander had passed out before he could really do a whole lot for Spike. Besides lie there and get jacked off on.
"Is there a reason you did that to me after I ... fell asleep?"
Smirk. "You just looked so delicious lying there, thought I'd dress you up a bit."
"Bastard," Xander said with a grin. "Fine. Get me some Advil, will you?" Spike was weird, but so was Xander, and so far that seemed to work, so Xander wasn't going to question it any more.
Spike was frowning, though. "Are you sure you don't want to take the meds the doctors gave you? It's a recent break, if you don't take something stronger than your ibuprofen, it's gonna hurt like a bitch in a few hours."
Xander reached out and took Spike's hand, pulling him closer. "How about this? Go get the weak stuff, come back, we mess around a little, and then you get me the pain meds?"
"Mess around?" Spike said. Were his eyes just a little bit darker when he said that?
"Yeah. That okay?" Xander was doing his best to sound confident, and he kept in mind that Spike had been waiting naked in his bed, but there were little tendrils of insecurity trying to dig into his mind.
The smile Spike gave him wasn't a smirk this time; it was softer, warmer, and Xander liked it. "That's fine. I'll be right back."
And he was. He must have used super vampire speed, because he was back and handing Xander a glass of water and two Advil before Xander even had a chance to think. He took the glass away as soon as Xander'd swallowed the pills, and then he was settling beside Xander again, more gently this time, taking care he didn't jostle his cast.
"You sure this is what you want?" Spike asked.
"You didn't ask last night," Xander pointed out. "Come here and kiss me."
"Don't move. Let me do all the work, yeah?" Spike kissed Xander's jaw, then trailed his tongue down Xander's throat to his chest. When cool lips wrapped around one of his nipples, Xander groaned, his chest swelling as he inhaled sharply at the sensation.
Before he knew it, his shorts were gone, pulled down quickly and efficiently, without hurting him at all. Spike's mouth moved to lick and nip at his other nipple. Xander's fingers curled themselves into Spike's hair and he had another flash of memory from the night before.
He blushed, biting his tongue when some of the same dirty phrases wanted to spill free. His cock jerked against his thigh, hard and heavy at the thought of how Spike had responded to his words.
Blunt teeth scraped his skin, and Xander moaned. He wanted more. More skin, more touching, more mouth and teeth and whatever else Spike wanted to give him.
When Spike stopped, Xander thought he might punch him. But no, Spike was just reaching over to grab the hand lotion from the top of the nightstand, and Xander's eyes widened.
"I'm not ... I mean, I don't ..." Xander babbled, pushing Spike away.
"Hey, shh," Spike said quietly. "Not gonna make you do anything you don't want, alright?"
Xander was sure Spike was lying, but when he looked up into Spike's eyes, for once he didn't see anything sinister or underhanded lurking there. No glint of evil humor, no guile, just clear blue eyes that really were gorgeous, if Xander could think such a thing in the privacy of his own mind.
He relaxed a little. "All right," he said slowly. "What're you do-- oh!"
Spike smirked at him, his lotioned fingers now moving between his own legs and -- was he? Oh, holy fucking shit, he was. Spike was pushing his own fingers up or in or whatever you wanted to call it there.
Spike was fucking himself with his fingers.
The noises Spike made were almost more arousing than the actual sight of him touching himself down there. But then Spike must have hit his prostate because his cock jerked and his eyes went wide and so dark that there was only a slim ring of blue surrounding the pupil. And that was the hottest thing Xander had ever seen in his life.
He jerked himself, unable to keep from touching. But he went slow, just teasing the shaft with a light grip. Xander didn't want to come, not yet.
Spike reached up to twist one of his nipples while his other hand continued to stretch and fill his ass.
"Fuck, that's so hot," Xander said, breathless.
There was a smirk on Spike's lips when he focused on Xander again, and then Spike reached for the lotion and coated Xander's cock with it. "You wanna do something with it?" he asked, and it sounded so much like a taunt that Xander wanted to fuck him just to wipe the superior look off his face.
"Bastard," Xander growled. "Get over here."
"Bloody sweet talker, aren't you, luv?" Spike laughed, but he sidled closer.
Xander grabbed Spike's wrist tugging him closer. His cock was throbbing, desperate to be inside Spike after that insanely hot display. He could barely believe this was really happening. That Spike was going to let Xander fuck him. That Spike was actually going to ride him.
"Get on top." Xander's voice was hoarse. "Fuck, Spike. Come on."
He was still smirking. "Think I like you like this," he said, and straddled Xander. He took Xander's cock in his hand and rubbed the tip over his hole, back and forth like he was teasing himself. He was certainly teasing Xander.
"Sit on it," Xander breathed, clamping his fingers on Spike's hips and trying to push him down. Other things were trying to come out of his mouth, but he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth a little instead.
"Yeah, like that," Spike said, and stopped. "What else?"
What else? What the hell? But then he looked up at Spike and remembered the things he'd said the night before, and the hot, lusty way Spike had reacted, and just now the way he was trying to goad him into saying more.
Oh. Right. Spike got off on it. He liked it. It was hard to believe that anyone would want to hear the kinds of things Xander'd said when he was high and nearly out of his mind, but here was proof, Spike was nearly blackmailing him into saying what he wanted to hear. Without the drugs to loosen his tongue, it might have been a little difficult, but when Xander getting inside depended on how dirty he talked, it made the whole thing a little easier.
Xander felt his lips turn up. "You want me to fuck your tight little hole, don't you? C'mon and ride me," he said, and watched as Spike's eyes went dark again. "You're such a slut." He felt Spike clench around him and groaned. "You like being my slut, don't you?" And finally, finally Spike had sunk all the way onto his cock, encasing him in tight, silky heaven.
"Yeah," Spike moaned, looking so fucking hot that Xander wished with everything he had that his leg wasn't broken and he could take Spike the way he really wanted to.
Then again, watching him ride Xander's cock was pretty incredible too.
"Yeah," Xander repeated in a whisper. "Lemme hear you say it. Tell me how much you love this," he said, half because he wanted a clue on just what the hell Spike wanted from him, and half because he just wanted to hear Spike's voice when he said it. He pushed up, grinding against Spike all he could, as deep as he could. Spike planted his hands on Xander's chest and rocked up and then came down again, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth pink and wet with saliva and open just a little.
"Love it," Spike said, grunting a little on the last word. "Always love a good fuck. Your cock is so hot, so fucking good." Spike clenched around Xander's cock eliciting a gasp from Xander's lips.
"Hot?" Xander found it hard to think.
"Mortal," Spike groaned, grinding down into Xander's pelvis. "Haven't been with a human in a long time. 'S good."
Xander didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about some crazy vampire guy putting his cold prick where Xander was right now. God. The only other vampire Xander's brain was providing him with a mental picture of was Angel, and there was nothing but seething jealousy and hatred in that thought. So Xander gripped Spike's hips as hard as he could, his fingertips digging into that gorgeous pale skin, and pulled Spike down on him, slammed him onto his dick, while he thrust up. "That's right," Xander panted. "You like my thick, hard, hot cock, don't you?"
Spike arched his back, taking Xander's cock even deeper and groaning his agreement. "Yeah, Christ. Had you in my mouth last night." Spike licked his lips at the memory. "Wanted you like this, though. Fucking me. Filling me with your cock."
Spike looked a little lost. Lost to the feel of Xander's cock in his ass, and that just turned Xander on so fucking much. "Yeah. Take it."
There was more groaning, then, and Spike looked down on him with this hungry, wanting expression. "C'mere," he said, and leaned down a bit while Xander propped himself up on his elbows. Spike's mouth was as open and eager as his hole, and Xander fucked that too, with his tongue, with teeth that bit and chewed at Spike's lips, and Xander wished again that he was physically able to just flip him over and fuck him like he wanted. Or turn Spike over onto his knees, his pale, tight ass in the air, waiting for Xander to just take him.
Maybe some other time.
"Yeah, Jesus fuck, Harris," Spike gasped against Xander's mouth.
"Love watching you fuck yourself on me," Xander said, and Spike groaned and rode him harder, sitting back again, the muscles in his thighs tightening. He was so tight around Xander that it didn't matter if he wasn't hot, because the clench of his greedy ass was burn enough. "Greedy," Xander said, echoing his thoughts. "Greedy, cock-hungry whore."
"Yeah. Greedy whore," Spike agreed breathlessly, fingernails digging into Xander's chest. It stung a little, but Xander liked that he was so riled up that he was losing control. Spike's movements got faster and clumsier until finally he was clenching rhythmically around Xander's cock, his own spurting come all over Xander's belly.
Xander drank in the sight, his own body tightening in anticipation. He dipped two fingers in Spike's come and brought it to Spike's lips. "Clean up your mess, slut."
Spike groaned and opened his mouth.
And Xander came as Spike loudly sucked the come from Xander's fingers.
Thankfully, Spike didn't collapse into a heap on top of Xander, but instead rolled off him with careful movements. Xander gave him a quizzical look, once he was able to see straight again, and Spike looked away. If Xander hadn't known better, and if it hadn't been Spike he was talking about, he would have said he looked embarrassed.
Spike was lying on his stomach when Xander finished wiping the come off his stomach and chest with a tissue. Xander couldn't help running a hand down Spike's back. It was sweaty, who knew vampires could sweat? When his hand came to rest on Spike's buttocks, he noticed they were clenched tightly. He ran his fingertips down Spike's crack, and they relaxed.
Xander realized Spike had been doing it on purpose, holding the come inside him. Xander groaned. It was impossible to get hard again, but his cock didn't seem to know that. It twitched with interest.
"Fuck," Xander breathed as he watched a trickle of come leak out from between Spike's legs. "Fuck."
He trailed his fingers down to Spike's hole, which felt strange, swollen, and brought the wetness to his mouth. He waited until Spike was watching and sucked his fingers into his mouth. Spike's eyes glazed over a bit and his mouth fell open. "Christ."
Xander could feel the wicked smile that graced his own face. "I think I taste better with a little bit of you added to the flavor."
"Christ," Spike said, and leaned over and kissed him. "You dirty little shit."
"Mmm," Xander agreed.
Even Spike's kisses felt dirty, all wet tongue and sloppy sucking. But it was good, so fucking good.
It wasn't until pain lanced through his leg that he pulled away. "Ow. Ow. Owowowow!" He grabbed his upper thigh, trying to massage the cramp away, but it was impossible since it was really coming from beneath the cast.
Spike raised his brows. "I guess that's my cue. So much for Advil. Be right back, luv."
It must have been the supernatural speed again, because Xander had just rested his eyes, kind of a long, slow blink, and when they opened again, Spike was back with a glass of water and two blue pills. "Take these. You eat anything before you came in here?"
Xander swallowed the pills like an obedient little child, and shook his head. "Didn't want to waste any time."
With a snort, Spike said, "You finally find something you like more than food?"
"Yeah. Your ass is pretty delicious all on its own," Xander said with a grin, reaching out to grab said bare ass.
"None o' that, Harris," Spike said. "Rest. Gotta heal that leg."
"Ever hear of sexual healing?" Xander said.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Everything in moderation," Spike said, and then shook his head in disbelief. "Can't believe I just bloody said that," he mumbled. "I'll make you some toast, at least. You'll eat that, take a bit of a nap, and then I'll get you something better when you wake up."
Xander snuggled into his pillow and smiled. "Something better, huh?"
"Bloody insatiable brat," Spike said, but he had that smile again, the one Xander really liked. "I'll be back in a bit."
Xander had a warm, fuzzy feeling smile of his own as he listened to Spike in the kitchen. He drifted off before he returned.
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