Length: 2414 words
Spoilers: Nothing specifically; takes place prior to School Hard.
Summary: Xander wakes.
. AU; vampire-y stuff, so feeding and fucking. *g* Written for batpack April Challenge: Fool.
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Written: April 26, 2006
Sequel to Lucky
Xander’s first thought was, “I can’t believe I’m not dead.” His second was, “God, I’m starving!” Nearly dying was a frightening experience, but he was a growing boy, after all, and nothing trumped the directive of the stomach. Well, almost nothing, he allowed, recalling the “hunger” that had landed him in this position to begin with. Unfortunately, thinking with that head made men act foolishly, and Xander had been no exception.
That was when he suddenly realized that he could hear his heartbeat. It was beating frantically, as if he’d just woken from a terrible nightmare. Which was to be expected, since he’d just barely—and for no reason that he could fathom—escaped death by fangs. He placed his hand on his chest, wondering what kind of game Spike was playing with him.
Xander felt for the pounding of his heart, then stared at the water-stained ceiling of the dingy motel room, eyes wide with understanding. He slowly turned his head until he could see the tear-streaked, bruised and terrified face of the night clerk, who was bound and gagged, curled up in a trembling heap on the dirty carpeting.
“You’re a slow one, aren’t you?”
The familiar voice send a frisson of apprehension and unwanted desire sliding through Xander’s body, and drew his attention away from the wretch huddled on the floor. Spike was sitting on the only chair in the room, balancing it on its rear legs, booted feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the foot of the bed.
Xander jerked up to a sitting position, the sheet that had been covering him pooling around his waist. He frantically checked for a pulse in his throat, then wrist. “What have you done to me?”
The clerk’s heart was beating even faster, and now Xander could hear the blood rushing through his veins, smell the dark, rich scent of it. His hunger grew more intense and he began to salivate as his fangs extended.
Spike merely raised an eyebrow, then said, “Good thing you’re pretty, pet.” He glanced over at the clerk who was now whimpering, pleading into the gag, then back to Xander. “Hungry?”
“No!” Xander said. As much as the man’s blood called to him, Xander was not going to kill him. He would not let himself become a monster like the one that sat in front of him.
Spike shrugged at Xander’s response, then stood up and kicked the chair back before he pulled his t-shirt off over his head and dropped it on the seat he’d just vacated.
The sight of Spike’s bare chest was momentarily distracting, but then Xander realized that he was getting naked. “What are you doing?” The words came without even the merest hint of a squeak, he’d swear if asked.
Spike looked at him through lowered lashes as he kicked his boots off and shoved his jeans down. “Getting ready for bed. Sun’s shining, so we’re stuck in this rathole until tonight.”
Spike was around the bed, pulling the covers down before Xander thought to try and get away. He’d barely formed the thought when Spike’s arm went around his waist and pulled him back until their bodies were touching, which was when Xander realized that Spike might have cleaned up the blood and cum from his skin, but he was still naked as a jay bird, and now his nakedness was pressed up against Spike’s nakedness.
Xander held himself tense, the mantra of oh god, oh god reverberating through his head. He wasn’t sure why, but he had the inexplicable urge to turn around and cling to Spike. He forced himself to lie still as Spike set his thumb to rubbing a soothing pattern on his belly, whispered, “Shh, pet, shh,” in Xander’s ear. “You’re my very own, now, and I’ll take care of you.”
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the hunger he felt, for blood, and for Spike, but closing his eyes only made it worse. The whoosh of the rushing blood was louder, the scent headier, and his entire body seemed sensitized to Spike’s touch, the gentle, repetitive stroke of his thumb raising gooseflesh, and the feel of Spike’s cock, not soft, but not yet fully hard, against his ass, sending a message straight to Xander’s own cock.
He struggled against his reactions, wrestled with the desire to sink his fangs into skin that would yield easily, with the need to spread his legs and let Spike sink into him.
Spike’s touch became more firm. “Don’t fight it, pet. It’s what you are now, what you need to survive.” He slid his hand down between Xander’s thighs, cupped his balls, then stroked his cock, coaxing him to hardness. He licked Xander’s neck, then worried the skin with blunt teeth. “It’s in your nature.”
“No, no.” Xander whispered the denial.
Spike pumped him a few times, then swiped his thumb over the head of Xander’s cock and brought it to his lips. Xander eagerly parted them, and Spike pressed his thumb into his mouth.
Xander, unaccountably desperate for more of Spike’s touch, sucked on it. When Spike moved to withdraw it, Xander grabbed his hand, holding it in place as he continued to suck, replacing the taste of his own cum with the taste of Spike.
Spike rubbed his thumb against the roof of Xander’s mouth, the back of his teeth, and Xander stopped sucking to let him. When Spike concentrated his ministrations on one of Xander’s fangs, Xander made a sound deep in his throat as they both dropped and his cock hardened.
The jolt of arousal at the first taste of blood as Spike pressed the pad of his thumb against Xander’s fang and broke the skin was almost overwhelming. It was better than sex, better than Twinkies. It was like sex and Twinkies, all wrapped up in one sexy and dangerous blond package.
Xander moaned, and Spike said, “That’s it, pet, have a taste of sire’s blood.”
Xander pressed his ass into Spike’s groin as he suckled at Spike’s thumb, lost in the dark, smokey taste of him. As the tingle in his groin grew from a pleasurable ache to a desperate need, he wished that Spike’s hand could be in two places at once.
“You need to feed,” Spike said, drawing his thumb out of Xander’s mouth.
Xander whimpered and tried to pull it back, but Spike was stronger. He lowered his hand, stroked his saliva-slicked thumb over Xander’s nipple.
“You’ll need your strength for what I’ve got planned for you,” he said, and then stroked his nipple again.
Xander arched his back, pushed into Spike’s touch, then moaned as Spike’s hand drifted lower.
“Wanna fuck you, pet,” Spike whispered into his ear, then licked his neck. “Gonna fuck you all day, pound into you ‘til you can’t walk.”
At Spike’s words, Xander ground his ass back, felt Spike hard against him.
“Want you aware for all of it,” Spike said, his hand once more on Xander’s cock, the touch light and teasing.
Xander sensed the change from the mask of a man to the visage of the demon, saw it reflected in the wide, fearful eyes of the clerk, felt the sharp edge of Spike’s fangs as he dragged them over his shoulder.
“You need to feed, pet. Need to keep your strength up. Doesn’t make you a monster to do what you need to, to survive.”
Xander saw the moment the clerk realized that things had changed, that this was it. His eyes got even wider, and he started screaming ineffectually around the gag, and the fear.... God, Xander could smell the fear wafting off him, and the scent of it was divine.
He moved off the bed and knelt beside the man, who was wiggling and crying and screaming, and it all made Xander so desperate to taste him. He reached for the man, part of him so hungry and eager, and another sickened, but he couldn’t not feed. He needed this man’s lifeblood to survive, and he wanted it, wanted to taste it, feel it slide down his throat, hear the heartbeat slow, then stop, feel the struggle for life cease.
Xander grabbed the man, surprised at the ease with which he dragged him close despite his weak, ineffectual efforts to escape. He bent his head to the man’s neck, breathed deep, savoring the sound and smell of his first meal, then bit down. His fangs sank deep, like a hot knife through butter, he thought with a tinge of hysteria, and then he began to drink.
The taste that exploded onto his tongue was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and more than he’d expected. The sound and scent of it had taunted and tempted him, the small taste of his sire’s blood that he’d been allowed had teased him, and he’d felt a bone deep need for it, but he hadn’t realized how right it would feel, how delicious it would taste.
When he was done, he lifted his head and dropped the body, then licked his lips and turned to look at Spike, hungry now for something else entirely.
Spike was watching him, golden eyes glittering with approval. “Good boy,” he said, and held out his hand. “Come here.”
Xander didn’t waste a moment climbing onto the bed and plastering himself to Spike.
Spike grabbed Xander’s head and held him still as he lapped at his chin and lips, cleaning the blood off his face. Then he kissed him, and the blood tasted even better when it was offered to him from his sire’s tongue.
Xander sucked on Spike’s tongue and humped against his leg. He made a noise he’d never admit to when Spike flipped him onto his stomach and slid a finger inside him. He lifted his ass and pushed back, shivered when Spike chuckled against his neck.
“Eager for it, aren’t you, pet?”
“Yes! Please, Spike.”
Xander’s whole body felt like it was coming alive. He could feel the blood coursing through him, feel the heat of it warming a body he hadn’t even realized was cold. He felt the strength it gave him, the power. It made him feel vibrant, vital, and he wanted.... He didn’t know what, something more.
He whined when Spike pulled his finger out, then groaned as he pushed inside him. The burn of entry was painful, but the ache faded almost immediately, leaving him feeling full and connected. And not in just the most obvious physical way. He’d never felt this kinship with anyone else. It was as if their physical joining had bound them mentally and spiritually, as well, and he was finally whole.
Spike pressed him to the bed with his body and slammed into him With each thrust, Xander could feel Spike’s bony hips against his ass, could feel the stuttering pull of skin on skin as Spike’s front moved over Xander’s back. Spike found his prostate, hit it unerringly again and again, and he grasped at the dirty sheets as if they could keep him from spiraling up and away.
Spike bit him, shallow, and only took a nip, but every muscle in his body twitched as if he’d taken an electric shock. It pushed him over the edge, and there were bright lights behind his eyes when he came; the only thing tethering him to the Earth was Spike.
When he came to, he was on his back and Spike was still fucking him. The demon that resided inside the human shell looked down at him, grinned. There was blood on his lips; Xander’s blood. If the constant attention to his prostate hadn’t been enough to bring him back to full hardness, the sense memory of his sire’s fangs in his neck was.
Spike’s tongue came out to lick his lips, but Xander leaned up, beat him to it, tasted the blood he’d taken from the clerk and made his own. When Xander kissed him, Spike sliced his tongue on Xander’s fang. Xander suckled his tongue, milking as much blood as he could from the tiny nick, and it was suddenly all too much: the waning scent of fear, the heady scent of sex, the taste of Spike’s blood, and the feel of Spike’s cock riding his ass.
Spike held his wrist up to Xander’s mouth, nodded encouragingly when Xander grasped it in both hands and placed his fangs at the pulse point.
Xander bit down, fangs sinking deep, and drank. The taste blossomed over his tongue and brought him even closer to orgasm. He felt Spike’s fangs at his neck, and he was filled with the desire to be taken completely by his sire, fangs and cock both sinking into him, plundering him, owning him. He tilted his head, moaned around Spike’s wrist as Spike bit him.
Spike sucked in time to the movement of his hips, and the dual sensations sent Xander hurtling towards completion.
It felt as if his orgasm was being wrung from him at both ends. Xander thrashed beneath Spike, lowered one hand in an attempt to hurry things along, but came before he could touch himself. He mindlessly rode wave after wave of pleasure, until he was left limp and sated as it receded. Spike’s wrist was still pressed to his lips, and he continued to suckle as he came down from the high wrought by blood and cum.
His full belly, the exertion of sex, and the sun high in the sky all worked against him, and Xander started to slip into sleep. He felt Spike lapping at his neck, closing the bite and licking up all of the blood, and made a little whimper of protest when Spike pulled out of him.
Spike shushed him, then pulled him close and wrapped arms and legs around him.
Xander had never felt more safe and protected in his entire life, even before he’d known that the things that went bump in the night were real. His fangs receded, but he continued to lap at Spike’s wrist, as Spike had done to his neck, instinctively closing the bite and getting every last drop of spilled blood.
He heard Spike whispering against his neck, beautiful boy and my dark princess and always take care of you and mine forever, and just before he lost consciousness, Xander wondered if they were leaving Sunnydale, and whether Spike would let him say goodbye to Buffy and Willow before they left.
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