Rating: NC17/Slash
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Length: 3628 words
Spoilers: Vague up to School Hard.
Summary: Xander runs into Spike prior to the events of School Hard.
Notes: AU; PWP; character death, but not. *g* Written for [info]batpack March Challenge: Luck.
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Written: March 14, 2006




Lucky


by
Spikedluv



“Feel like getting lucky?”

The words were spoken directly into his ear above the loud, pounding beat, but the cheek pressed against the side of his face and the firm grip on his hips both kept him from turning around to see who’d said them.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, playing along.

This wasn’t his first visit to The Cellar—that had been several months ago while Buffy was in L.A. and Willow’d been forced to go on a family vacation. That night the bouncer had taken one look at him, barely sixteen and scared, and let him in without asking for ID or making him pay the cover charge.

Nor was it his first proposition. That had been a man several years older than him who’d reminded him of Jesse. Nor his second. Xander didn’t always say yes, but he knew how to play the game. Besides, tonight he was in the mood to see where it took him.

He was still moving to the rhythm and the man behind him pushed in closer, pressed his groin into Xander’s ass. He couldn’t keep the gasp from escaping when he felt the hard cock pushing insistently against him. Reaching back he grabbed the other man’s hips to steady himself.

“Thought maybe I’d suck you, then fuck you.”

Xander shivered, then moaned when the pronouncement was punctuated by one hand sliding over his groin and giving him a teasing squeeze before sliding between his thighs, fingers pressing lightly against his balls, heel rubbing over his hard-on. He was trapped between heaven and hell, every move had him either pushing forward into the man’s grip or back against his cock.

He licked Xander’s neck and he shivered again.

“How old are you?”

“Does it matter?” Xander tried to sound haughty, but it came out breathless and eager.

The man laughed. “Not in the slightest,” he said. “Been watching you dance. Gonna have you tonight. All of you.” He bit down on Xander’s neck.

Xander groaned and arched into his touch. “What’s your name?”

“Spike. Yours?”

“X-Xander.”

“Well, Xander,” Spike said, tugging the top button of his jeans free and slipping his fingers beneath the waistband, “you ready to get out of here?”

Xander’s brain had officially gone offline, the lizard brain now firmly in control. “Yes.”





In the parking lot, Spike led Xander to an old black car with darkly tinted windows. Up close it looked like they’d been painted. He opened the driver’s side door and practically shoved Xander into the car before following him in and pulling the door closed. Xander slid across the seat to make room, but Spike’s hand on his leg kept him from sliding all the way over.

Now that they were outside, away from the music and the heat and the energy of The Cellar, Xander’s adrenaline rush was waning. Spike wasn’t his type, bleached-blond and all hard angles. He liked brunets, like Jesse. Well, except for that crush he’d had on Buffy, but that was totally different. Besides, he knew she wasn’t a real blonde.

Plus, Spike drove like a bat out of hell and Xander was afraid he’d be killed before they got to the good stuff, anyway. He’d just opened his mouth to suggest that Spike drop him off when Spike slid his hand up his leg and maneuvered between his thighs. Xander’s knees fell open and his head dropped back against the seat.

“Not having second thoughts, are you, pet?” Spike asked as he gently squeezed and rubbed.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t think so,” he said, and expertly worked the rest of Xander’s buttons open.

“Oh god.” Xander moaned as Spike shoved his hand into Xander’s jeans, closed his fingers around him. He lifted his hips and thrust into Spike’s grip. “Oh god, please.”

Xander whimpered when Spike pulled his hand away, staring through dazed, half-lidded eyes as Spike licked his fingers and palm clean of Xander’s pre-come. “Spike.”

Spike ignored him, pulled into a motel parking lot. The sign read “MO-O- IN-” which would have made him laugh if his dick wasn’t hard, aching and hanging out of his jeans, and if the promise of getting sucked and fucked wasn’t looming in his very near future. If most of his blood hadn’t already migrated to areas south, Xander might have been just a little bit more scared, because, while he’d been sucked, often, and had sucked in return, he’d never been fucked. Looked like tonight was his lucky night, he thought a little fretfully.





Spike left him in the car when he went to the office to check in and Xander used the time to tuck himself back into his jeans and wonder what in hell he was doing. Spike was soon back, twirling the key ring around his finger as he walked towards the car. He gave Xander a knowing smirk when he slid behind the wheel, which, on one hand, made Xander want to smack him for making him feel twelve, but on the other, gave him this weird little tingle in his belly.

If Xander made it through the night without being mugged and murdered in his sleep, he’d have whiplash for sure. If not from Spike’s driving, then from the way he manhandled Xander from the car to the motel room and then threw him on the bed. The mattress was hard—and not in the firm, good-nights-sleep way, but in the keep-you-from-spending-too-much-time-in-the-room way—and didn’t yield much when he landed on it.

Xander leaned up on his elbows, mouth open to protest Spike’s high-handed treatment, but Spike had already thrown his leather duster over the single chair the room held and now stood at the foot of the bed, in the process of shucking his red button-down. Xander’s eyes were drawn to the tight fit of the black t-shirt underneath as the removal of his red shirt pulled it taut over hard pecs, and the bulge barely held back by black denim.

Spike laughed, low and husky, and it went straight to Xander’s cock. “Like what you see?” he asked, kicking off his boots and tossing the shirt aside.

Xander thought he should be indignant at that and would have searched for a pithy comeback, but he figured the drool probably gave him away, so he just said, “Uh huh.”

Spike stripped his t-shirt off and Xander licked his lips hungrily, because if Spike looked good in the tight t-shirt, he looked even better out of it. Xander nearly bit his tongue off when Spike climbed onto the bed and began to crawl up his body. He fell back onto the bed, eyes still on Spike, who paused to nuzzle Xander’s groin, chuckling when Xander moaned and spread his legs. Spike slithered up his chest and sniffed his neck before pressing their lips together.

That was different. Xander had only visited The Cellar half a dozen times, but there’d been no kissing on any of those occasions. They’d wanted his body, feeling him up on the dance floor, getting him hot and horny and primed. They’d wanted his cock, a hand slipping beneath his waistband to squeeze and pull, or a hot, wet mouth taking him in, sucking him to orgasm. They’d wanted his hand, guiding it to the bulge in their jeans, or his lips, pushing him to his knees, fingers in his hair urging him closer, but no one had wanted to kiss, because that was too...intimate.

Sucking someone’s cock was casual, kissing made it personal. Which made him wonder, finally, what exactly Spike was after. Before he had a chance to put word to his thoughts, Spike rubbed his thumb over the head of Xander’s cock through his jeans and pressed his tongue between Xander’s lips.

With a groan, Xander lifted his hips in search of more of that delicious friction. He wrapped his arms around Spike’s shoulders and clung to him, then parted his lips, moaning when Spike’s tongue touched his. Spike tasted like nicotine, though Xander hadn’t seen him smoke, and something else, familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He stopped thinking about it, because Spike’s kiss was thorough, mapping his mouth and drawing Xander into the kiss until it was all Xander knew.

Xander had never been kissed like this before; his and Jesse’s inexperienced fumbling nothing compared to the way Spike was devouring him. He dug his fingers into Spike’s shoulder, his hair, as if he could pull him closer, and then Spike was pulling away.

Xander whined a protest, but Spike just smirked, said, “Need to get you naked, Xander,” and a shiver went up his spine at the desperate need in Spike’s eyes.

He could only watch as Spike pulled his sneakers off and tossed them over his shoulders to land with a thunk somewhere on the stained rug. He groaned when Spike teased him before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging denim and cotton down his legs, letting them fall to the floor at the end of the bed. Spike ran a finger along the underside of Xander’s foot, and he jerked his leg back.

“Ticklish?”

“No.”

The immediate denial made Spike’s eyes sparkle with mischief, but he didn’t say anything, just grabbed the toes of both socks and tugged until they slithered off, and then dropped them behind him. He got up onto his knees again, bracing himself on one hand as he pushed Xander’s t-shirt up, his hand cool against the heat of Xander’s skin.

He stared into Spike’s eyes until he had to close his, gasping as Spike’s fingers brushed his nipple.

“You ever done this before, Xander?”

“Not, oh god! Not like this.” He groaned when Spike lowered his head and licked the nipple he’d just pinched.

“How?”

The question barely registered until Spike pinched him again and repeated it. “Oh, uh, just blow jobs and, uh, hand jobs, in the back room, the alley.”

“Never let anyone fuck your pretty ass?”

Xander shook his head, unable to speak while Spike’s tongue flicked his nipple, hissing when Spike bit him.

“Gonna let me, though, aren’t you?”

Spike pushed the shirt up further and moved his attentions to Xander’s other nipple.

“Please, oh, Spike, please.”

“Please what, Xander?” Spike said, then buried his face in Xander’s neck, inhaled deeply. He licked and sucked at the sensitive skin, then groaned as if he was in pain. “Want to have my cock buried so far inside you when I finally taste you.”

“You’ve already tasted me,” Xander said, breathless and a little bit confused, because he was sure he remembered Spike licking his pre-come off his hand.

“Mmm,” Spike said, but Xander didn’t know if it was in agreement or just to shut him up. “Want to taste all of you.”

Spike raised his head and tugged on the shirt. Xander lifted his shoulders and helped Spike pull it off over his head, then lost sight of it as Spike flung it away. He shivered under the heat of Spike’s gaze, partly embarrassed and partly turned on by the scrutiny. Spike lowered his head and touched his tongue to the first patch of Xander’s skin, then proceeded to taste every inch of him.

Xander was nearly incoherent when Spike finally, finally, returned to his cock, which, despite the drops of pre-come cooling on his belly, had been feeling neglected. Spike licked up the length, then around the head, then lapped up the small pool of fluid from his stomach.

Spike reached for a pillow, then rolled Xander over onto it. Xander groaned when he realized that his torture hadn’t ended. This time Spike started at his neck and worked his way down. He shivered as little shocks of pleasure from every touch of Spike’s tongue went straight to his groin. Each tiny jolt increased the painful ache in his cock and soon he was begging please, Spike, please for release.

But Spike was a sadistic bastard, as it turns out, and he ignored all of Xander’s pleas to be allowed to let me come, damn it, oh, god, please. Xander should have known that this was a bad idea and bailed when he’d first gotten cold feet. He swore when Spike pulled him up onto his knees, removing him from the only friction he’d been able to generate, then squealed in surprise when Spike spread his butt cheeks and dragged his tongue along his crack.

“Spike, what the fuck?” He’d seen pictures, and he even knew what it was called, but he’d never, not in a million years, expected that anyone would be doing it to him. Ever. But it seemed that Spike had been serious about tasting all of him.

His protest was cut off when Spike’s tongue circled his hole once, twice, then pressed inside, because, holy crap, what was he complaining about this for, anyway? Spike pulled out, teased the outside of his hole again, then sucked on it. Xander shuddered and dug his fingers into the comforter.

Spike forced his tongue inside once more and Xander pushed back. Spike pulled out and laughed, the air he exhaled tickled over Xander’s wet, sensitive hole. Xander whined Spike’s name and Spike took pity on him, mostly. He lapped over Xander’s hole with little kitten licks that only served to drive Xander insane before giving Xander what he wanted. The noises he was making were almost embarrassing, but Xander didn’t feel bad about it because the things Spike could do with his tongue had to be illegal.

Before Xander knew what was happening, he’d been flipped over onto his back again. Without forewarning, Spike bent his head, took Xander into his mouth and sucked.

“Holy...!” Xander reached for Spike’s head, fingertips dancing lightly over gelled hair, almost afraid to touch. He didn’t want anything to interrupt now that it looked like Spike had stopped teasing and was going to let him come. The thought that the fucking would start when the sucking ended was at the back of his brain, trying to hammer it’s way forward, but Xander was determined to enjoy this orgasm before he started worrying. “Oh, god.”

The added stimulation of Spike’s finger circling his saliva-slicked hole was too much. The tingling heat building along his spine coalesced and every muscle in Xander’s body tensed. Spike’s finger pressed in and Xander tried to scream, but it was caught in his throat as his orgasm rushed through him. His hips jerked as his cock pulsed, and Spike swallowed him down.

Xander shuddered with the aftershocks of his climax as Spike licked him clean, moaned in protest when his cock became too sensitive. With one move, Spike was up beside him, kissing him. His tongue slid into Xander’s mouth and Xander tasted himself mixed with the taste he already associated with Spike.

Then Xander was alone on the bed, but Spike shimmied out of his jeans and was back lying next to him before Xander had time to do more than open his mouth in protest. His confusion as his brain tried to catch up must have been obvious, because Spike laughed.

“Spread your legs for me, pet,” he said, and Xander did it without thinking, only realizing what was going to happen next when the sound of a lid being flicked open was soon followed by a cool, slimy sensation as Spike’s finger touched his hole again. He whimpered, but Spike just said, “Shh, it’s gonna be so good.”

Xander would have stiffened, but his brain was still disconnected from his muscles, and Spike’s finger slid inside him with no problem. It was uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt. At least, not until Spike slowly pushed it in the rest of the way.

“Holy crap, Spike.”

“Feels full, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Xander said on a gasp as Spike pulled his finger out a little bit and then pushed it back in.

“You’ll get used to it. Gonna feel even more full when my cock’s buried inside your tight little hole.”

“Oh, god.” The thought of something bigger than Spike’s finger pushing inside him made his nuts want to crawl up inside his body, but the way Spike said it sounded so nasty that it sent a little jolt of pleasure to Xander’s cock. Great, his body couldn’t even decide what it wanted! “Spike, I don’t think....”

The rest of the words were lost in Spike’s mouth and Xander got lost in the kiss. He relaxed into Spike’s touch, unconsciously spreading his legs even wider as Spike slid his finger in and out of him, opening him up. He jerked when a sudden jolt of pleasure shot through him.

“What was that?”

“That,” Spike said, “is the reason you’re gonna beg me to fuck you.” He touched the spot inside Xander once more, brushing his finger over it again and again until Xander was panting, his eyes rolling back in his head, his cock struggling back to life with each shock of pleasure.

When Xander came down from the pleasure high, he realized that he felt even more full and that there was a slight burn in his ass. “Spike?”

“Two,” Spike said, slowly fucking Xander with both fingers. Xander’s eyes were locked onto Spike’s when he smirked and said, “Still not as big as my cock, though.”

Xander’s groan of dismay turned into one of pleasure when Spike once again brushed that spot. Spike kissed him again, swallowing up each moan and whimper. Xander managed to lift one hand to Spike’s back and gripped tightly, dug his fingers in as he pressed down, meeting Spike’s slow thrusts, wanting more despite the burn.

Before long, his cock was hard and aching for release once more, and he was fucking himself on three fingers while Spike whispered dirty words of encouragement in his ear. Xander knew he was begging please, Spike, please, oh god, let me but Spike would just smirk and stroke his fingers over Xander’s hot spot, building him up and taking him to the edge before pulling back and easing him down.

Spike withdrew his fingers, leaving Xander feeling empty. He whimpered in protest and Spike just laughed, low and nasty. “Beg me for it.”

Xander whined, reached for his cock, intent on getting himself off. Spike grabbed his hands and had both arms above his head before Xander could react. One hand pinned his wrists and the other moved down his body, the touch feather light.

“You’ve been begging me all night,” Spike said. “I want to hear you begging for it now.”

Xander wrapped one leg around Spike and lifted his hips. Instead of stopping him, Spike ran his hand up the back of Xander’s thigh, squeezed his ass.

“Say it.”

“Please,” Xander said. “Spike, please.”

Spike’s fingers gave a squeeze of approval, but a raised eyebrow told Xander that he was waiting for more.

“Please fuck me, please.”

Fingers brushed his hole and Xander nearly screamed in frustration.

“Wa-want your cock,” Xander said, and saw the reaction it had on Spike. It made him bold. “Want your cock inside me, fucking me. Fuck me hard, Spike. Oh god!”

Spike was on his knees, shoving Xander’s legs back until he thought he’d break in two, and then pressing against him. Xander cried out as Spike breached him, the pain worse than he’d anticipated after the finger fucking Spike had given him.

“Relax,” Spike said, and Xander choked out a laugh, ‘cause, yeah, right. “Push down.”

Xander did, and Spike slid the rest of the way in, pulling a surprised grunt out of him. Spike held still, letting Xander adjust. He leaned down to kiss him, probably to take his mind off the burn in his ass, and it mostly worked, except, ow. Still kissing him, Spike started moving. He pulled out a little, then pushed back in, just rocking his hips, getting Xander used to the feel of having him inside him, fucking him.

“O-okay,” Xander said. “Okay, you can....”

Before he’d even finished speaking, Spike had pulled all the way out and pushed back in. Slowly, gently, then again, with less care, until finally he was thrusting hard, deep. Nerve endings Xander didn’t even know he had were firing, shooting pleasurable sensations straight from his ass to his cock.

Spike bent over him, licking his nipples as he thrust. Xander’s fingers dug into Spike’s sides as he rode out the pleasure spikes. Spike finally relented and moved up to his neck, though that wasn’t much better because Spike seemed to be able to pinpoint the spots that made Xander squirm, and then he kissed him, his tongue moving in and out of his mouth in time with the cock moving in and out of his ass.

Xander wrapped one arm around Spike’s neck, squeezing. “Spike, I’m so close. Gonna....” And then he was screaming, arching, coming.

He barely felt Spike’s tongue at his neck, the teeth that grazed his skin, or the whispered, “My beautiful, beautiful boy.”

There was a sharp pain as Spike’s fangs pierced his skin and it brought him out of his orgasmic daze.

“No. What...?”

It tickled when Spike suckled, drew the blood out of him, and it finally kicked in that he’d gotten himself into more trouble than he’d imagined. He pushed against Spike, his attempts to free himself ineffectual to begin with, and growing more so as Spike drained him.

His memories got confused and hazy. A third orgasm, more pain than pleasure as it was wrung out of him. Spike pounding into him, coming. The face of the demon, blood staining his lips. The taste of iron, and the fleeting thought that, oh, that’s what that was.

And the whispered, “Every dark knight needs a dark princess,” before there was nothing.



The End



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