Rating: Adults Only.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I make no profit from this, I do it simply for my own perverse pleasure. Joss is God.
Warnings: Rimming. Contemptuousness of the follicly challenged.
Summary: My contribution for fall_for_sx
A/N: Thanks to vccv and vigdis_vale for the beta work.
Who Needs Superman
“I still don’t understand what you see in him,” Xander pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I mean, he’s not that great looking, and… and… he’s bald, Spike. Bald. As in hairless. Everywhere.”
“Yeah, he is,” Spike said and pointed the tip of his tongue out between his teeth and waggled it as he leered at Xander in a way that always made his knees weak. “And, he is that great looking. Plus, he’s rich, loyal, sophisticated, well read, well mannered, ruthless, has a great arse on him, and did I mention rich? And ruthless? Two qualities that I find very appealing in a man.”
Xander huffed and did not look any more convinced. Even the momentary lust that had shot through him at Spike’s earlier look had waned to almost nothing again. Almost nothing, because just being around the sexy bleach-blond vampire had him in a state of semi-arousal. A state that not even listening to Spike’s attraction to another man - a bald man for Pete’s sake - could undo.
“I still don’t get it. I mean, even overlooking the bald part - which I so don’t get, especially with how fixated you are on your own hair - he doesn’t seem your type. Aside from the temporary insanity that we’ll call Buffy, I thought you always went for dark hair, and sorta nutty?”
Spike couldn’t help but grin at that. “Went for you didn’t I? And the only thing nutty ‘bout you are these nuts right here,” he fondled said nuts as he spoke and Xander closed his eyes and groaned.
“Jesus, Spike,” he all but moaned as wicked fingers continued their exploration between his legs. “How am I supposed to think with you doing that?”
“Yer not, luv. S’why I’m doin’ it.” Spike purred as he pulled himself even closer to his now panting lover and used his free hand to release the buttons on Xander’s jeans. “If you can’t think, you can’t argue, an’ I win by default.”
Xander knew he should be doing something, saying something to protest his lack of ability to concentrate, but at the moment, he was incapable of speech as Spike had freed his aching length from the confines of his pants and then swooped down and swallowed him whole.
There was nothing in the world that could compare to getting a blow-job from someone who didn’t need to breath, had over a century’s experience, and had no aversion to swallowing bodily fluids. It went right to the top of Xander’s list of all time favourite things; earning the coveted top position, formerly held by Twinkies.
Hostess never stood a chance against Spike.
“Oh, fuck,” Xander panted as Spike shifted down onto the floor, his mouth never leaving his cock for a moment, and removed Xander’s jeans entirely before situating himself between Xander’s now spread legs. Xander knew, or at least he hoped he knew, what was coming next.
Spike looked up at Xander and waggled his eyebrows before he slowly sank all the way down on his cock. Extending his agile tongue, he lapped at the wrinkled sack hanging beneath. Xander arched into the touch and then cried out as Spike - somehow - managed to suck his balls into his mouth as well.
As the walls of Spike’s throat contracted around his cock and the tongue on his balls continued it’s exploration, Xander dug his hands into Spike’s crunchy, over-gelled hair and came with a hoarse shout.
He barely had time to catch his breath before he was pulled to his feet, turned around, pushed onto the couch, and repositioned on his knees with his ass in the air.
“Such a good fuckin’ look fer you, luv,” Spike husked as he hurriedly stripped out of his jeans and T-shirt. “I’m gonna shag you so hard you won’t sit for a week without thinking’ o’ me. But first,” he leaned in and deliberately blew across Xander’s sphincter, “I’m gonna rim you till you scream.”
Xander groaned and buried his head in the couch cushion. No matter how many times he’d had this done, he still couldn’t control his very loud, very vocal, appreciation of Spike’s very talented tongue.
“You’re trying to kill me,” was the muffled response, before the first touch of Spike’s lips on his ass made him lose his ability to form words.
“And give up this?” Spike asked, softly. “Never.”
Xander would have responded, probably with something sappy and ridiculous, but Spike’s tongue lapped over his hole at that moment and all thought fled. The only thing Xander was able to concentrate on were the feelings Spike was producing in him. Random thoughts of good, more, and ohmyfuckinggodyes floated through his head as he stuffed his fist into his mouth to try and contain the sounds he was making.
His cock stirred back to life, rapidly reaching full hardness once more and he tried sneaking a hand down to grasp himself. He wasn’t at all surprised when Spike slapped his hand away and growled at him. In fact, that growl was the reason he had tried in the first place. There was something about the vibrations Spike made when he did it that just drove Xander out of his mind.
Spike had obviously cottoned on to this fact as he continued to growl, only it was more of a purr of contentment rather than a warning now.
Xander pushed his hips back, all but humping Spike’s face as he tried to keep the scream lodged in his throat from bursting forth. It was a wasted effort.
The scream of his name was all Spike was waiting for. He quickly mounted Xander, lined his cock up with Xander’s saliva slickened hole and began to push forward.
Xander keened. There was no pain, not after the number of times they’d done this. It was all pleasure now. Pure bliss. He never got tired of feeling himself stretch to accommodate Spike’s girth. Never got tired of feeling filled and possessed - in a good way for a change. Never, ever, got tired of hearing Spike whisper his name so reverently in his ear as he started to move. Long, slow, sure strokes and Xander was in Heaven.
What could have been hours, but in reality were only minutes later, Spike’s hand closed around Xander’s prick and began to pump him in rhythm to match his own strokes into Xander’s ass. As Spike began to speed up, to deliver the hard, thorough, pounding he had all but promised, Xander pushed back against him; meeting him thrust for thrust. This was sex at it’s most primal, and Xander didn’t want it any other way.
As he felt his balls contract, and knew his orgasm was almost on him, Xander tilted his neck in offering. Spike never asked. Never would. This was Xander’s to offer.
Taking him up on the offer - he had never turned it down yet - Spike kissed Xander’s neck lightly before driving his fangs in deep. Xander convulsed with a groan that was part pain and part ecstasy as he spilled over Spike’s fist and onto the sofa.
Spike continued to move; short, hard, stabs into Xander’s body. He removed his dripping fangs, licked the trickle of blood from Xander’s throat and then, throwing his head back, howled his release.
After, as they lay curled around one another on the sticky sofa, Xander lifted his head from Spike’s chest, propped his chin on his folded hands and looked at his lover with slight confusion. “You know, when I asked which one you’d rather fuck - Clark or Lex - I have to admit, I was expecting you to say Clark.”
Spike chuckled and kissed Xander on the nose. A sweet sentiment that was only for Xander, and only in private. “Nah. Who needs Superman, luv. I already got my own sexy, brunette hero-boy.”
Xander couldn’t help but feel good then. But he wouldn’t be Xander if he didn’t make some smart assed quip. “You’re just saying that because you want to see me in tights.”
And Spike… grinned.
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