Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Neither Spike, Xander, nor the toys they play with belong to me
Dedication: Written for [info]fall_for_sx and everyone who continues to aid and abet my Spander habit

WARNING: Contains strong BDSM

To Be His Boy

Darkling Dawns

Part One

Hands shoved him down onto his knees. He hit the ground with a graceless thud, unable to steady himself with his wrists locked tightly behind him. Bowing his head, he looked down, watching black-clad legs and bare feet come into view. Fingers combed through his hair, the brief tug when they encountered a tangle making him wince slightly. “What are you, boy?“

That was an easy one. “Yours.“

“Damn straight. An' who am I?“

“Master.“ A small frown appeared. Had he done something wrong, that he needed to be reminded of these simple things?

“Don't worry, pet, you haven't done anythin'. Just makin' things clear at the start, yeah?“ An affectionate pat on the back of his neck made him relax. He nodded and received a soft, “Good boy,“ as a reward. Warmth filled him with the praise, his master's approval washing over him like a palpable caress, and he relaxed under the gentle hand.

His pet properly reassured, Spike moved back and began to circle him once more. “Such a pretty one, you are. Haven't hardly started an' already you're hungry for me, aren'tcha?” He eyed the kneeling figure of his boy, his gaze sweeping over the acres of golden-brown skin, tracing the lines of muscle that strained against his bonds, lingering on the thrust of his bound cock. “You're gonna be a good boy for me tonight, right?”

“Yes, Master.” He shifted, instinctively pulling against the cuffs around his wrists, but they held fast. Bowing his head, he tried to watch the circling figure as much as he could without breaking position, tracking the movement of his lover, waiting for the inevitable strike.

Spike smiled and reached out to run a hand through dark hair. “Yeah, know you will be. Got a special treat for my pet, gonna take you straight to heaven an' back.” The vampire came around to stand before him, one pale hand settling over his crotch, squeezing the bulge beneath. Dark eyes watched the movement avidly, a tongue darting out to lick dry lips. “Beg for it, pet.”

“Please, Master, may I suck your cock?” The words rolled easily off his tongue. God knows, it hadn't always been so. The first time he'd been told to ask for that, he'd stammered and balked, unable to actually voice the request in plain language. He'd spent a week on his knees, unable to come, watching Spike jerk off over and over again while he wasn't allowed to touch or assist in any way until finally he was told to ask again. He'd never had trouble asking for what he wanted after that.

“Hard to refuse such a polite boy,” Spike teased softly. He unfastened his belt, aware of the eyes that followed his every move, then began to unfasten his pants. Reaching inside, he eased his cock out and stroked it, a bead of moisture forming on the tip.

God, he was gorgeous. “Please, Master,” he begged unashamedly. “I want to taste you, want to please you, need-”

A stinging slap shut him up. “Not what you want that's important, pet. Or haven't you learned that yet? You that stupid, that thick-headed that you can't get the idea through your skull? It's what I want, got that? You don't matter here. You're just my little fuck toy, a couple of convenient holes for me to shove my dick into when I wanna get off.”

His cheek burned, and he knew that for a few seconds, his master's handprint would be clearly visible on his skin. “I'm sorry, Master, should've known better,” he babbled, fighting the urge to look up into those sculptured features. “I was so hungry for your cock that I forgot my place. Please forgive your toy and use him any way you want to.”

“Damn right I will,” Spike grumbled. “Oughta beat you black an' blue for that, but I have plans for tonight an' don't fancy puttin' 'em off just to punish a slave who should know better. I'll owe you for that, though.” He stroked his dick again, then stepped forward, his hand sliding into dark hair. “Open your mouth, boy.”

Lips parted obediently, and Spike shoved his pet's head down as he thrust forward. There was little finesse, no chance offered to suck or tease, just a groan from the vampire before he tightened his grip to hold his slave still so he could fuck his mouth. He moaned against the cock that filled his mouth and nudged his throat, opening for it without command. “Yeah, that's it,” Spike hissed. “Good lil fucktoy, such a sweet lil cocksucker. An' you love it, don't you, love bein' used like this?”

He groaned, the vibrations around Spike's shaft drawing an answering sound from the vampire. The firm grip in his hair tightened almost to the point of pain as his head was shoved against Spike's abdomen. “Shit... gonna come. Fuck, yeah!” The cock in his mouth twitched and then shot in long streams down his throat, making his own dick throb with the need to come as well. But he knew better than that- even if he hadn't been restrained, he seldom got relief before his master had come several times, and sometimes not even then.

As the throes of his orgasm eased, Spike eased back until only the tip of his cock remained between pliant lips. “Lick me clean,” he ordered, combing his fingers through silky hair as his pet hurried to obey, his tongue sweeping over sensitized skin, laving it free of come until he was hard once more, wet and gleaming from the attention. “Enough.”

He shoved the dark head back and started to lazily stroke himself, well aware of the hungry dark gaze that followed every move of his hand. “Kneel up, pet. Lemme see that pretty hard cock of yours.” The handcuffs rattled slightly as he obeyed, biting his lip with the struggle not to move beneath the heated stare that swept over him. Spike released his dick and held his hand out, waiting until the precome had been eagerly licked off until he sank to his knees and pulled the kneeling man over to him for a kiss, his tongue delving inside, chasing the taste of his own come until he broke away with a smile.

“New game tonight, luv.” Dark eyes widened with an onrush of lust, and Spike laughed. “Like the thought of that, do you?”

“Yes, Master.” New games were always a good thing- the rules were never easy to figure out, and he usually got more than one spanking before he figured them out and got to come.

A hand closed around his dick, stroking him slowly, and Spike smiled at the pained groan that he couldn't hold back. “That's a good boy. Gonna like this, pet.” Giving him another kiss, the blond got to his feet and walked over to the table where the vast array of toys was laid out. Well aware of the eyes that watched his every move, he ghosted his hand over the flogger, hovered over the crop, then seemed to change directions and reach for one of the plugs before he finally made his selection.

“Close your eyes.” The icy tones sent a shiver down his spine and he obeyed instantly, a smile playing over his lips at the thought of whatever new game his master had devised. A soft click in the sudden quiet was enough to make his cock twitch, the distinctive sound of a cap being flipped open sending a rush of hunger through his body. The thump of denim hitting the floor was followed by the slurp of lube being squeezed out onto whatever tonight's torture device was. But then, oddly enough, there was only quiet.

He squeezed his eyes tight, so he wasn't tempted to cheat and open them, but couldn't help cocking his head to one side as he strained to hear. Occasional small sounds drifted over to him, too faint to really be recognizable other than as slight assurances that his master still remained in the room with him. As the seconds ticked into minutes, he felt his skin begin to tighten, prickling with anticipation as the silence spread, stretching out until it lay over him like a quilt.

A slick hand closed on his shaft, the sudden contact making him jump. “Shhh, pet, just me,” the low voice purred in his ear. “Wanna play with my toy for a bit.” Hearing himself referred to like that, as Spike's toy, his property, never failed to send sparks shooting through him, and he moaned, struggling to keep still while Spike stroked him.

“Such a pretty little whore.” He bit his lip, wondering if this was supposed to be punishment or reward. From ownership to dirty talk and teasing, Spike was hitting every single button he owned, lighting him up like the 4th of July. And while kink was always part of their relationship, he never went about this kind of systemic display unless he had something very specific in mind.

Spike twisted his hand, wrenching a guttural sound from his helpless pet. A hard cock brushed against his curled hands, and although the cuffs that restrained him didn't allow for much movement, he managed to flex his fingers in a silent plea for more. “Fuck, that's it,” Spike groaned, thrusting against his hand as he stroked him faster, taking him right to the brink. He wondered how much longer he could hold it, and just as he was about to beg, Spike's hand fell away. The slick cock slid against his fingers a few more times, then vanished as well.

Fingers combed through his hair again. “What's the first rule, boy?”

“No coming until Master gives permission,” he parroted obediently, wondering why they were going back over so many basic things tonight. Had he somehow broken a rule without knowing about it, or was Spike just trying to reinforce what he already knew?

The hand on his head patted him. “Good boy. Keep that in mind, yeah?” His legs were kicked a little further apart, and there were more rustling noises, then Spike's hand wrapped around his dick again, but instead of stroking, he held him still, and then-

“Ohhhhh God, Master!” he gasped, a shudder ripping through him as a slow push backwards slid his aching cock even deeper into the sleek tightness of Spike's ass. He wanted to ask why, but knew it was useless, even if he could form the words to do so. In the time that he'd belonged to the vampire, he'd come to understand that Spike did as he pleased, and it was his toy's job to simply accept and adapt.

Spike groaned, wiggling as he slid all the way down. “Fuck, that's good. Like that, pet?” A strangled noise escaped, and the blond chuckled. “Open your eyes, boy. Want you to see this.”

He forced his eyes open just in time to see Spike rock forward, pulling almost completely off his dick before he slid back. It was mesmerizing, beautiful in a completely breathtaking way, and he knew that no matter how long he lived, he'd never see anything more erotic than this. “W-why?”

“Cause I wanted somethin' nice an' hard in my ass,” Spike replied. “An' I'm not about to settle for somethin' plastic when I've got my own very real dildo right here, yeah?” Fuck, why was it so incredibly hot hearing himself called something like that? Another slow glide robbed him of any response. “Feels so good havin' you there, pet. Hard an' wet, so hungry for me... how does it feel, boy?”

He moaned. “So good, Master. Tight and- ohhhhh, it's so gooooood.” Spike flexed around him, rippling in a sinuous rhythm as he sped up a little. God, he hoped he got permission to come soon!

“Wanna feel me come, then?” Spike panted, tightening around him when he moaned in answer. “Fuck, haven't had a good buggerin' in ages, forgot how good it feels havin' a real cock up inside me.” He was rocking more rapidly now, shifting to make the tip rake over his prostate. “Yeah, that's it. Gonna come all around you, pet, let you feel what it's like, yeah? Watch, pet, want you seein' it when I come just from your dick in my ass.”

Wide eyes stared at the way his dick was plunging in and out of his Master, the gleam of lubricant on flesh, the hole that swallowed him hungrily, and then suddenly Spike was thrusting himself rapidly back on his cock, grunting with pleasure. He could hear the soft spatter of come as it fell to the floor, and tight flesh spasmed around him, gripping and releasing him in a maddening burst of ecstasy. He bit down hard on his lip as the first tingles of his own orgasm rose into his balls, an agonized moan breaking free as he fought against the climax that he so desperately wanted.

Spike stilled for a minute, his head hanging forward. He panted softly, then squeezed once around him, deliberately teasing his sensitive flesh. He couldn't help bucking forward, and the vampire moaned, then started slowly rocking again. “Oh yeah, like that, I do. Could do this all night.“

“Spike- Master, please-“ He knew there was no way he could last too much longer, not when every movement sent shock waves reverberating through his entire body. He'd already been close, and this was driving him almost past the point of control.

But mercy had never been part of Spike's vocabulary. The vampire lunged forward and shoved back, then humped against him several times in rapid succession, cursing in a low voice that shot up his spine like heroin. “Fuck, that's it. Bloody brilliant, this is. Hittin' that spot... yeah, right there, so deep inside. Gonna use you all up, pet, ride you over an' over again 'til I can't come any more.”

He groaned as his cock hardened to the point of pain and pulsed in the velvet tunnel of Spike's body. Have to wait, can't come yet, he silently chanted, fingernails cutting into his palms with the effort to hold back. Spike rocked again, grinding back against him, and he couldn't stop. With a despairing cry, he felt his dick swell to bursting, and then he was coming, hips jerking as he shot helplessly deep inside his lover, coming in endless spurts as one orgasm overlapped another.

His dick was still twitching and dribbling in the last throes when he became aware of the loss of tight flesh around it. Spike had pulled off at some point, and the moment he opened his eyes, a foot lashed out and toppled him onto his back. He fell onto his bound hands with a small cry of pain that quickly became a louder whimper when fingers bit into his arm and yanked him carelessly back up onto his knees. A hand slid into his hair, pulling him up until he was stretched like a bow, staring up into the dark angry depths of his Master's eyes.

Spike towered over him, his face like thunder, reminding him so much of that first night in the graveyard that he wanted to throw himself at the vampire's feet and beg for mercy. But his voice wouldn't work, and he could only watch in horror as Spike's hand came down to his throat, fingers digging into the leather band there, pulling it tight until the links that closed it in the back gave way. Metal cut into the back of his neck, but it was nothing compared to the pain of the next words his Master spoke: “For the next week, at least, you are no longer my slave.“

Xander woke with a gasp, the words ringing through his mind. He bolted upright, one hand flying to his throat, the other reaching for his lover. But his fingers met bare skin instead of the familiar band of leather and steel, and no sleepy grumble of a disturbed vampire offered comfort after the nightmare. He was alone, just like he'd been for the last three nights, ever since Spike had turned and left him kneeling, naked and collarless, on the floor of his bedroom. Like he would be until the end of the weekend, and possibly even longer after that.

Part Two

The apartment was unnaturally quiet, even with the TV on, and he didn't dare reach for the radio, not when he knew it would be tuned to some punk or metal station. If he had to hear any of the music that usually blasted through the room, Xander knew he'd end up turning around expecting to see his vampire, and that would lead to badness. He tried to tell himself there might be a positive angle to this- no smoke clinging to his furniture or clothes, no boots on the coffee table, no light-speed channel changing, no blood-dipped chips, no mugs lingering in the sink or wet towels crumpled on the floor. No low voice barking orders one minute and murmuring honeyed words the next, no hands reaching for him the second he sat down, no legs to lean against while he watched TV, no reminders to watch what he ate or be careful on the site, no limpet in his bed clinging to him and soaking up every available ounce of body heat. All of it added up to just one thing: no Spike.

By Friday night, Xander was more miserable than he could ever remember being. His entire week had been spent slogging through the same endless routine of work, TV, and dreams of what he'd lost. He couldn't stand to go down to the Magic Box, and when none of the girls called to see why he wasn't coming down, he knew that Spike must've told them something. Alcohol might've made his exile easier, but it was forbidden without permission, and he couldn't bring himself to break any more rules just yet. That would be tantamount to admitting that he wasn't ever getting either collar or Master back.

He hadn't spent this much time alone in over two years, and it was painful. Ever since Spike had backed him into that crypt and turned his world upside down with a kiss, Xander had been his. There'd been no hesitation when the vampire put the collar around his neck, and when Buffy and Willow had seen how happy he was being Spike's, they'd learned to accept it, even if he knew they'd never really understand it. He didn't really understand it himself- he just knew it worked. Or at least, it had until last Sunday.

The silence and solitude was beginning to wear on him, grinding him down further and further with every night he went to sleep by himself and every morning he woke up alone. He hadn't even seen Spike until last night, and then only for a second, when he'd caught a glimpse of him in the cemetery. Just a brief look, only long enough to catch sight of the lit end of a cigarette and the swirl of leather around lean legs before the apparition disappeared. But that instant had sliced into him like the sharpest of knives, leaving him raw and bleeding.

Last week he would've been in the shadows with Spike, would have turned and followed him into the darkness, but now he was left standing alone, forced to watch his lover and Master walk away and leave him once more. There had been no sign from the vampire that he'd even noticed Xander anywhere nearby, not a single glance in his direction, and he had to wonder if maybe Spike had decided that he really didn't want a slave anymore. Had the week given him some kind of new perspective, maybe shown him how much better life was on his own?

Xander spent a long, lonely Saturday doing chores and missing his vampire more than ever. Spike never helped with the housework, didn't touch laundry or dishes, but when he was there, they weren't tedious tasks, they were things he did to make his Master comfortable, small ways he could offer his service and show his gratitude. Without him, they were just jobs to be done. When the girls finally called later that afternoon and begged him to come with them to the Bronze that night, he could hear the pity and sympathy in their voices, and knew that Spike must've told them about his punishment. But he couldn't figure out why, and that was bothering him. If it was to offer him company, then why wait until the week was nearly over? The only other alternative he could imagine was one he didn't want to even consider.

But it lingered in the back of his mind nonetheless, coiled like a serpent, waiting a chance to strike as he got dressed, automatically putting on the worn blue jeans and white T-shirt that were Spike's favorites. He wondered if he'd get a call or awkward visit, or if he'd just come home one day to find everything of Spike's gone, along with his collar. Would Spike give it to someone else, or just throw it away? He hoped he'd get rid of it, because the thought of someone else wearing his collar, kneeling at Spike's feet, feeling his hand in their hair, his fingers sliding down over the leather band... it turned his stomach and made his chest tighten until he had to sit down. He nearly called Willow to cancel, but then they'd probably come over here, and he didn't think he could stand that, so he forced himself to finish getting ready. When he was done, he grabbed his keys and headed out to meet the girls.

They'd already nabbed a table when he got there, and their overbright smiles and warm hugs told him everything he needed to know. Spike wasn't coming back, and his friends had been sent as the emissaries, chosen to break the news as gently as possible. He hugged them and sat down, and when the waitress set a beer down in front of him, he didn't hesitate before picking it up, pretending he didn't see Buffy and Willow exchange a worried glance when he chugged most of it in several long swallows.

His friends did their best to make him smile as the night progressed, chattering away about this and that, but all Xander really cared about was the beers that continued to be set down in front of him at least once an hour. He didn't know where they were coming from, whether Buffy had set up a tab or someone at the bar was trying to attract his interest, but they were there, and that was all that mattered as he drifted on a sea of foamy goodness. Somewhere around his fourth drink, he could feel some of that awful numbness slip away, and he even managed to tease Buffy a little about her new boyfriend. And then he turned around and saw Spike.

Decked out in a deep blue velvet shirt and leather pants that made Angelus's look baggy, moving through the club with the loose, confident stride of a predator, he was the epitome of sex. Eyes followed his progress, both men and women drawn to his easy movement, all of them clearly recognizing the signs of someone on the prowl. Xander was no exception, and he knew that a week ago, he'd have gloried in the attention Spike was drawing, basked in the stares with the sure, smug pride that the gorgeous creature that everyone wanted was his Master, and that he had eyes only for his boy. Tonight, though, it was a savage twist of the knife in his heart.

“Xander-” Buffy reached out to lay a hand on his arm, but he shook his head before she could make contact and pulled away from the touch. Nobody had touched him without Spike's permission in two years, not even the girls, although exceptions were usually made for the hugs they liked to hand out. But right now he didn't think he could handle it, not with his former Master standing not fifty feet away.

Willow caught hold of Buffy when she would've approached Spike, then sent the Slayer to the bar to get refills for their drinks and went to sit by her friend. “Xander? Sweetie, we really didn't know...” A tall, dark-haired man walked over to Spike and leaned down to say something in his ear. How many times had he done that, bent to tell him something, speaking low next to his ear to be heard over the din of the club?

“If you wanna leave, we can,” Willow offered with a hesitant smile, but Xander didn't answer. He couldn't look away from Spike, who laughed in response to something the man said, then plucked the glass from the stranger's fingers and tossed its contents back. When he was finished, he set it down on the nearest table and started towards the dance floor without a backwards look. And just like Xander so many times before him, the guy followed him with no hesitation.

The two men disappeared into the writhing throng on the floor, and Xander bolted to his feet. “I'll be right back,” he told Willow, who bit her lip to hold back the instinctive protest. Instead, she watched her friend slip through the crowd in search of his faithless boyfriend. She'd gladly turn Spike into a toad, but she knew his disappearance would hurt Xander even more than he was already hurting, so she could only stand by and hope that he remembered she was here if he needed her.

Bodies closed around him as he trailed Spike and his new conquest out onto the floor, and he felt panic well up as strange hands brushed against him. Swallowing hard, he fought it down and moved on, scanning the area until he caught sight of bleached hair and black leather. The two men were plastered together, moving to the hypnotic beat of the music, and if it had been anybody but Spike leaning back against the tall man's chest, Xander knew he'd have admired how good they looked together. But this was his vampire, not just some random club guy, and yet he couldn't seem to force himself to move, could only stand there and watch them.

The man dropped one hand down to grab Spike's ass, muttering in his ear, “Can't wait to fuck this tight little ass all night long. Gonna bend you over and ride you hard, boy, make you scream for me before we're done.”

“Nice, but you don't know who you're addressin', boy.” Spike turned around to face the man, his hand stealing up to wrap around his throat, squeezing very lightly. The soft gasp and immediate dilation of his partner's eyes told him he'd hit a kink. He began to grind against the man, plastering himself to the front of the broad chest, hands sliding down to flex against the muscles beneath his shirt. “See, I'm thinkin' you're just a little boy playin' at bein' the Big Bad. All talk an' no walk, when what you really want is for someone who knows best to put you on your knees an' make you obey, innit that so?”

“Oh, God,” he gasped, thrusting his hips against Spike's, hands trying to clutch at his hips to hold him still. But Spike had been at this game since before this mark was even thought of. He easily eluded the grasp, slipping around behind him instead, where he pressed up against his ass.

Xander drew in a shuddering breath as Spike went about expertly seducing the man who'd obviously had no idea who he'd picked up. His dick hardened in a rush when Spike slipped around to grind against the guy. He knew how good that felt, to have Spike's cock pressing against his ass, Spike's hands sliding over his body in a possessive display that would later leave him wearing all sorts of beautiful bruises, and the thought that he would never get it again was almost unbearable.

One hand slid over his throat again, wrapping around it with a strong grip. He squeezed just a little bit, enough to give the man an idea of the power he could use if he felt like it, then leaned up and hissed, “Gotta ask nice for it if you want it, pet.”

“Yeah. Fuck... yeah. Please!” Another squeeze, slightly harder this time, lingering just a bit until he felt the body against his shiver. He looked over his partner's shoulder to where Xander stood, triumphant blue eyes locking with agonized brown ones for a long moment. Spike ground against the man once more, drinking in his pet's misery from across the room, his cock throbbing at the faint scent of arousal he could catch from him, sweeter than the stronger scent that was much closer.

Fuck, he loved this, the feel of someone at his mercy. And knowing they put themselves there, feeling their desire to be there, that just made it all the sweeter. Spike thrust hard against the man's ass, then clamped his hand down, cutting off all his air, and hissed, “Come.”

He needed to move, had to find a way to turn around and leave instead of standing here torturing himself watching this display. But he could almost feel those hands on him, and when Spike looked at him, there was no turning away, nothing to do but let the whole scene play out. The vampire ground against his prey once more, then whispered in his ear, a single word that Xander had heard fall from his lips over and over again. And just like Xander before him, tonight's victim was unable to do anything but shudder and obey. And as the stain began to spread against the man's crotch, Xander felt himself follow suit, his dick jerking as he shot hard in his jeans.

Spike barely kept himself from coming along with them. The man's body shuddered and bucked against him, coming amid a struggle for air that wasn't won until he released him at the very last second. He fell to his knees, unable to stand from the dual assault on his senses, but Spike couldn't have cared less about that. A glance down at him showed he was fine, so he turned back to his boy, hungry for the sight of him. Xander was always a treat to make come in public- he still got embarrassed about it, still blushed and fidgeted and begged to go home as soon as it was over, and all of it never failed to make Spike hard enough to crack steel.

But Xander wasn't there anymore. Spike growled and stalked after him, ignoring the call of his dance partner behind him. This game had gone on long enough, and he was ready to put an end to it. He headed for the door, only to find his way blocked by an angry redhead. “And just what the hell do you think you're doing, mister?”

“Goin' after my boy once you get outta the way.”

“Not until you explain what's going on.” Willow glared up at him, folding her arms across her chest. “First you tell us we're supposed to give him space this week, then you want him to go out where he spends the whole night moping until you show up, and when you do, you go out there and put on a live porn show with someone else! Spike, did you guys break up and you just don't wanna tell us? Cause I can promise Buffy's not gonna stake you just for breaking up, but she will stake you if you're hurting Xander on purpose as part of some kind of sick game... although she'd have to beat me to it.”

He looked down into green eyes that managed to be both furious and injured, and sighed. Obviously he wasn't going to get to finish this tonight, not with the witch all up in arms about what she thought she'd seen. “C'mon, let's go sit down. Gonna be a while tryin' to get this all sorted out, yeah?” Taking hold of her arm, he led her back to the table, ordered another round of drinks, and did his best to explain it to both her and the Slayer.


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