This is in answer to the Birthday Challenge:
Must be S/X
Must have sex.
must post the fic to the list on or about April 27th
Choose at least 3 of the following
A situation where one character owes another some drycleaning for whatever reason..
The following snippet of dialogue, “Don’t help. It never helps when you help.
Hidden sexual contact in a room full of people.
A ‘They Might be Giants’ song.
The passing of a $1 bill between two people for whatever reason.
The number 34
Spike was relaxing on his cot, watching dust motes falling through the light of the far basement window. He sang quietly to himself.
He is our hero
Get rid of
Step on spider
We love you spider
I promise not to kill you
He heard the door at the top of the stairs open and close. The sound of a body easing itself down onto the top step. After a while he heard the gurgle of liquid.
“Hey Harris,” he called, “you got two of those?”
There was a sigh, and Spike heard the creak of wood as Xander stood. He waited to hear the door open again, but instead he heard the old stairs protesting as Xander padded the rest of the way down, and after a moment Xander’s face and body appeared around the corner. He held two bottles of beer in his hand.
Xander thrust an unopened bottle towards Spike and then stopped.
“Thought you didn’t need those anymore.” He nodded towards the manacles.
Spike shrugged. The chains made a soft clinking noise as he raised his hand for the beer. He couldn’t quite reach and Xander had to step forward, cautiously, to place the bottle in his hand. He stepped back again, out of reach.
“Thought you were all over the First-ey possession.”
“So why the gear?”
Spike studied dust motes. “Sometimes I just need to feel safe,” he said without looking at Xander.
The other man didn’t answer. He walked over to a chair, flipped it around and straddled it, regarding the vampire. Spike was sitting on his cot, naked to the waist, a sheet wrapped around his torso. The silver links of the manacles lay heavily over one shoulder. When he raised his hand to drink from the beer, they slid from his arm with a solid clink.
“Should think they’d chafe,” Xander said, eyeing the cuffs.
“Yeah, a little, but it’s a good kinda chafing.”
“This part of the soul-having penance thing?”
“Somethin’ like that, yeah.”
Xander was silent, thinking. He drank his beer. “I read somewhere once,” he said suddenly, “that metal handcuffs can break your wrists.”
“Suppose they could,” Said Spike thoughtfully, “mostly they just bruise.”
Xander shifted in the chair. “Read that people.” He paused. “Some people use leather cuffs so they won’t hurt themselves.”
Spike looked for the first time at Xander. The young man was studying Spike’s naked feet as they thrust from beneath the sheets. “Ever tried them on yerself, mate?”
Xander didn’t answer the question. He studied Spike’s feet. He tilted back his beer and had a long swallow, then looked up at the ceiling.
“Ya know how many teenage girls are up there right now, Spike?”
“Nah, more than five is a herd. I don’t count.”
Spike looked at him.
Xander shook his head. “Thirty four nubile young women and Andrew and I are the only men.” He nodded at Spike, “only live men. And all I wanna do is escape to my apartment and watch the game.”
“Why d’ya think I’m down here in the cellar, pet?”
Xander laughed around his beer bottle and swallowed. His eyes moved slowly up from Spike’s feet until they reached the manacled hands. Rested there.
“Kinda like old times, isn’t it Spike?”
Spike fumbled a bit with his beer. The chains were heavy and made his movements clumsy. When he drank he dribbled a bit on the sheets. He sighed. “What’s like old times?”
“Oh just,” Xander waved at the vampire, “here ya are. Bound, so to speak, in the basement.” He shook his head. “Kinda like the good old days.”
Spike cocked his head sideways and gave Xander a mystified look. “What good old days?”
“You remember. When you were tied up in MY basement.”
Spike rested his beer in his sheeted lap and leaned against the basement wall. “Right. Good old days.”
“Simpler times,” said Xander sentimentally. “Remember? It was so easy. You wanted to kill us. We hated you. Easy.” He took a slug of beer.
Spike thought about that for a minute. It seemed so long ago. Xander rested his arms on the back of his chair and lay his chin on his arms, contemplating the vampire. “What’s happened to us Spike?”
Spike wasn’t sure how to address this bizarre nostalgia. “Well, I got a soul…” he started.
“No no before that, Spike.” Xander was looking at him with those deep serious eyes that Spike remembered from the boy’s youth. All the world lay open in those eyes. “Stuff changed before that. We all changed.”
Spike was silent.
“Sometimes I wish it could all be that simple again, Spike.” said Xander sadly.
Spike shifted his knee and rested a manacled wrist on it. The chains slid like heavy metal water off his shoulder and hit the wall behind him. Xander looked up. His eyes focused on the bolts that held the chains over Spike’s head.
Spike watched Xander with some perplexity. He and the boy hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since Spike had moved out of Xander’s closet and into the Summer’s basement weeks ago. As a matter of fact, Xander had been conspicuous by his absence almost every time Spike ventured upstairs. He cocked his head sideways.
“What are you on about, mate? You ‘n the demon girl havin’ a row again or something?”
“Anya and I aren’t together, Spike.”
“Right,” said the vampire flatly. “Then I suppose that funky smell all over my bedding the other night was just my frustrated imagination.”
Xander stood from his chair and walked over to Spike’s cot. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coolly.
“Sheets weren’t much to clean, but I’ll have you know that comforter was real down. Buffy read me the riot act.”
Xander didn’t look at Spike. His hand rested casually on one of the bolts in the wall. “Strange how these weren’t here last week,” he said.
“You owe me, mate. The dry cleaning bill’s gonna be expensive.”
Xander’s eyes flickered briefly to Spike. “Why didn’t you tell Buffy?”
Spike snorted and rotated a cuff with one hand around the bone on his wrist. “Blokes gotta have some privacy. ‘S like some kinda girls public school up there.”
“Yeah.” Xander rubbed the bolt on the wall appraisingly. “Did you put these here?”
“Can hardly see the seam.”
“Yeah, well, had some experience here and there installin’ manacles in places.”
Xander blinked down at the top of Spike’s head. Took a deep breath. “Guess you have,” he said slowly.
Spike stilled as heady male pheromones wafted around him. Xander shook the chains experimentally. “Too bad we didn’t have these in my basement.”
Spike looked up at him.
Xander gazed down with opaque black eyes. “Instead of the ropes,” he explained.
Spike tipped his head back against the cold concrete and stared straight up at Xander. It was only about five years since Angelus had offered this boy to him at the Sunnydale High School, but Xander had the look of someone who had peaked young. He had fleshed out. His eyes were tired. A bitter line developing permanence at the corner of his mouth and his hairline was beginning to recede. “Ropes weren’t bad,” Spike offered.
Xander studied him. “You complained enough.”
Spike thought a bit, shifted, got himself into character. “Well, you bloody lot had no business tying me up.”
Xander’s eyes lit up a bit. “Yeah, right, poor innocent evil vampire. Just minding your own business.”
“Tha’s right.” Spike smirked as evil a smirk as he could manage. “Doing my job. Thinnin’ the herd.”
“Bastard.” Xander grinned and jerked on the chains a bit. “D’you really think these are tight enough?”
Spike peered up and squinted appraisingly. “Nah. But you can pull up the slack a bit. See that loop? Yeah, draw that around.” He adjusted himself. Growled. “Don’t have to pull ‘em so tight, whelp.”
“Don’t give me any lip, fangless, or I’ll gag you too.”
“There’s one of those over on the shelf, Xan.” Spike said helpfully.
Xander took a look in the general direction indicated. “Oh. Okay, thanks Spike.”
Spike shifted, twisted his hands in the cuffs. The chains scraped against the wall. Xander’s hand rubbed the metal. Spike growled. “Bloody boring sittin’ here. I wanna watch the telly.”
“Some of us have to sleep, blondie. Some of us have work in the morning.” Xander had a dopey grin on his face. His hand ran smoothly up and down the chain. Spike could hear him breathing. Spike bent his knees up and rocked annoyingly on the cot. It made a loud squeaking noise. “Harris,” he whined, “I wanna watch the telllly.” He kicked at the bed.
“That’s it,” Xander, an excited smile on his face, began stomping around the basement, looking for something, “I’m gonna tie up your legs.”
Spike stopped his movements. “Uh. Xander.” He kicked at the footrails. “There’s leg cuffs already attached here.”
Xander approached the chains and cuffs hanging from the end of Spike’s cot and lifted them reverently into his hands. When he reached hesitantly for Spike’s bare foot, he looked up and met his eye. The vampire slid his foot into Xander’s hand. There was something terribly intimate about the action. Xander gently fit the cold steel cuff around the cool ankle. The soft chink as the lock fell into place. “Let’s see you get out of these,” Xander breathed. His hand still rested on Spike’s foot.
Spike jerked at his handcuffs and moved his hips on the cot. When his feet moved, Xander’s hand convulsively tightened. His eyes in the half light were dark and full of excitement. “You can’t get away now.”
Spike studied the dark face. “Yeah I could,” He drawled finally, rewarded by a quick spark of interest in Xander’s eyes. “Always could,” he added.
Xander’s mouth opened, his tongue carefully licked his lips. “Yeah?” he said dryly. “How?”
“I’m a Master Vampire, pet. Can use ‘the voice’, can’t I,” said Spike, thinking quickly.
“Yeah.” Spike wriggled on the cot. Xander’s hands tightened on his ankles. His thumb was rubbing a bone there and Spike felt a tingle begin to travel up his inner thigh. He deepened his voice a little and looked hard into Xander’s face. “Remember the Master, whelp?”
Xander was breathing audibly through his mouth. He swallowed. “Yeah,” he managed.
“Come here, Xander,” said Spike in a close approximation of a Transylvanian accent.
Xander stared. Something dark slithered in the depths of those eyes. A little smile twitched the corner of his lips. “No,” he breathed, delightedly. He stood and approached Spike.
The vampire tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes. “Take off your shirt, Xander,” he said in a deep throaty European drawl.
“Stop,” said Xander, the smile trembling on his lips almost made him stammer. His hand unbuttonned his shirt quickly. “You bastard.” He grinned, shrugging the shirt from his shoulders as quickly as he could. “You evil bastard.”
Spike twitched on the cot. The chains rattled. “You’ll do anything I tell you, pet,” he whispered, switching to his own London accent. His smile was cruel. “You want to obey me, don’t you luv?”
“No,” whispered Xander. “You’re wrong.”
“Pull the sheet down, pet,” Spike commanded. Xander reached down immediately and twitched the sheet onto the floor. Spike lay naked on the mattress. He stretched like a cat and pulled at his restraints. His was half hard already. “Oooh pet,” he moaned, “look what you do to me, mate.”
Xander was breathing hard. “Liar,” he said. He swayed slightly on his feet.
“You want to take off your jeans, dontchya pet?”
“Stop,” said Xander, fumbling with the zipper. “Don’t make me.” He shoved down his jeans and stepped onto the cool basement floor in only his boxers. His hand hovered near the prominent bulge there. He watched Spike avidly. Waiting for instruction.
“Take yourself out for me, whelp,” growled Spike. He rocked his hips suggestively. His cock now hard and needy. “Wanna see my prezzie, Xander. Wanna see what you have for me, love.”
“Evil,” said Xander, his hands reaching in eagerly and grasping his erection. He moaned and stroked himself slowly. “Evil undead guy.” A little hiccup. Like a cross between a laugh and a gasp.. He stroked faster.
“That’s right, I’m evil,” hissed Spike. He licked his lips. “Come closer, Xander,” he demanded, now rocking on the cot rhythmically. “Wanna taste you love, need to taste you.”
For a minute Xander hesitated. His eyes widened. “You’ll bite me,” he said with childlike wonder.
“Oh yeah, I would bite you Xan,” said Spike appreciatively. “I would, but the Slayer’d stake me, wouldn’t she? I just wanna little taste. Wanna taste my nummy treat.”
“Oh,” Xander gasped. He shuffled forward. Spike rocked his head back and stared at the leaking erection in Xander’s hand and purred. Xander groaned and shook his head. He climbed up on the cot so that he was standing with his feet on either side of Spike’s hips, presenting his cock to Spike's face. The cot protested. Spike growled. Xander leant his hands on the wall and a little sound half between a giggle and a whimper escaped from his mouth.
“Wanna suck you, luv.” And Spike leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of Xander’s cock.
“Stop,” gasped Xander, his head tipping back, his eyes squeezing shut ecstatically. “No. Don’t make me,” he said blissfully. His hips rocked gently back and forth, sliding in and out of Spike’s mouth. He pressed his forehead to the wall and made small helpless sounds, little ‘no’s of protest and slid his cock in and out of the most amazing suction. He felt his balls tightening and reached down with one hand to caress the chains. “Gah!” He shoved forward suddenly, violently, and felt his sperm shooting down Spike’s throat as he shuddered and thrust and cried out against the wall.
Spike swallowed it all. Xander cried piteously and slid down so that he sat on the vampire’s restrained legs. Spike licked his lips slowly and carefully and looked into the stunned eyes. “Now touch me, pet.”
Shaking his head in protest, his eyes deep pools of delight, Xander grasped the cool shaft and ran his thumb over the head, gathering pre-cum and dragging it back down. He pumped slowly, with a firm fist, watching the vampire’s hands twist and pull at the handcuffs. Feeling his legs jerk against the restraints. He began pulling faster. Spike’s head lolled back and he made a noise in his throat like a cat. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s it, pet. Do that. Yeah, harder luv, pull me harder.”
And Xander was pumping now as fast as he could, watching Spike’s hands twist, the chains banging against the wall. Watching the vampire's mouth clenching, the eyes squeezing shut. “You’re bad,” Xander said dreamily. “You’re so bad.” He kept pumping until Spike rose up and cried out, sperm shooting up and across his chest and all over Xander’s hand.
Spike collapsed back into the mattress. He opened his eyes slowly and looked into Xander’s. The young man gazed back at him for a minute, then sighed. Spike saw some shutter close on the room that had opened in Xander’s eyes. Xander rose stiffly, and carefully stood from the cot. He picked the sheet up, arranged it back over Spike’s lap. The vampire didn’t speak. Xander put his clothes back on in silence. Picked up Spike’s empty beer bottle, picked up his own. He walked out of the room.
As he was about to round the corner Spike said, “Xander.”
Xander looked back at him. Cautious. A little defensive. “Yeah.”
“Next time,” Spike smirked. “You should bring those leather cuffs.”
Xander’s eyes went the color of dark caramel. The color of hot fudge. He rolled his shoulders and smirked back. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll do that.”
Spike listened to the feet going up the old stairs. He looked back at the basement window. Sang to himself.
“I promise not to kill you
We love you spider
Get rid of
He is our hero”
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