Randy Sex Kitten

Cool fingers in his mouth, twisting and twirling as he sucks at them hungrily. His eyes are locked on those above him and he groans when the fingers are removed. Wet fingertips floating down his body now, across nipples that pebble at their touch, down a twitching abdomen, around a throbbing cock and then back. Back, to circle and tease and prod before sliding cleanly in. He wailed.

“I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about, Spike!” Xander moved around the kitchen throwing the different raw ingredients into the bowl before mixing them together with an old whisk. “You can’t blame it on me, I wasn’t even here when it happened.”

A growl answered him and he sneaked a look at the angry vampire sitting at his kitchen table. Eyes the color of the summer sky during a rainstorm peered out from underneath damp, pale green locks. “Maybe not, but you could have at least said something before I went out like this.” Spike’s voice was a growl and he scrubbed at his head with the towel, soaking away the remaining water, leaving nearly dry curls in its wake.

“Sorry, man, I really didn’t notice,” Xander poured the batter into an iron skillet, the mixture popping and hissing at it met the scalding metal, and slid it smoothly into the oven. He rinsed out the bowl and pulled out the chair opposite Spike, leaning forward to peer more closely at him. “You’re sure it was the shampoo?”

Spike growled and flung the towel toward the bathroom door, glaring at it when it floated to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “No. I’m not sure it was the shampoo. I have no fucking idea when this happened!” He waved at his head. “S’not like I can see myself in the bloody mirror.”

He dropped his elbows to the table and scowled, his bottom lip becoming more prominent. Xander laughed and stood, reaching into the refrigerator for a beer. “Ok. Fangless, let’s see what we can do about it.”

Fingers forcing him open, stretching him wider than ever before. He cries out in pleasure, ignoring the sharp pain, knowing that it only added to the experience, made it that more real. Lips on his now, drowning his cries with still more wetness, sharing and tasting each other, driving senses to the brink and then letting them fall back, only to lift them up again.

The fingers crook now, pressing against a place he never knew existed. His cries could not be muted this time, Pleasure/pain flooding through his system, making him scream for more. The mouth, leaving his, moves down his body, the comforting weight that had been grounding him, gone.

Loss filters through him again, but then the mouth returns. Nipples are licked and nibbled, sharp teeth pressing into sensitive flesh. More pain to add to the pleasure. Those fingers, still pulsing against that place. One nipple, feeling neglected, tightens almost painfully, desperate for that mouth, but it moves lower instead, and he forgets to breathe.

His hands encased in latex gloves, Xander stood over Spike, rubbing harshly at the mass of green curls. “That’s it, Spike. It’s not coming out.” He stripped the gloves from his hands and chucked them toward the trashcan, missing and hitting the lid of the toilet instead.

Spike sank to the floor, his hands draped over his head. “What the bloody hell is the problem here?” He growled, low and deep and rose to his feet, glaring at Xander before stomping out of the bathroom and into the living room.

Xander laughed and followed. “Your head’s green, Spike.” He dropped down on the couch next to Spike and grinned, reaching out to run his fingers across said head.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh ha, bloody, ha.” Knocking Xander’s hand away, he reached for the remote, flipping through the channels, not stopping on anything.

After fifteen minutes of channel surfing, Xander reached out and hit the remote, sending it flying out of Spike’s hand. “Enough,” he groaned.

Spike’s eyebrow lifted and he glanced over to where the remote sat, ten feet away on the floor. “Why’dya do that? Now we have to watch…” His eyes widened as he glanced at the TV, and he immediately fell silent.

“What, Spike? Afraid of a little public acce…” And Xander’s voice fell silent as well. On the screen two men sat next to each other, nude, each holding their hardened members in their hands, staring at the other as their fists moved slowly up and down.

Xander turned his head toward Spike, his eyes never leaving the screen. “That’s not public access.”

“No, it’s not,” Spike answered in the same quiet voice that Xander had used.

The men had shifted, each turning to face the other, their knees touching and their hands beginning to move faster. Without any type of noticeable prompt, they let go at the same time and a hiss of what could only be termed disappointment escaped both Spike and Xander.

Xander rose and raced to the remote, returning to his seat and holding it out as if to change the channel. Just as his finger settled on the button, a loud groan escaped Spike and Xander looked quickly at the TV. One of the men was flat on his back on the floor with the other man kneeling over him, pressing their cocks together, stroking them with strong hands.

Xander began to tremble and the remote shook as the men on top seemed to bend himself in half and took both hard lengths into his mouth.

A cool wetness was now circling the bottom of his cock, rooting through the wiry hair and tracing the thick base. The fingers were moving now, in and out, apart and then together. He can feel himself opening to the touch.

That mouth was now running up the length of his cock, tracing the vein there, nibbling around the head, tugging at loose skin before releasing it and engulfing him altogether.

He can feel the tip of his cock pressing against the soft flesh of a cool throat and he groans as that throat closes around him, swallowing, squeezing.

“That’s not possible,” Xander stuttered out.

Spike nodded, his eyes glued to the screen. “Yeah, it is. Angelus could do it. Used to drive me mad.”

Eyes full of shock, Xander turned to stare at Spike. “What?” he gasped.

Spike turned to look at him, his eyes slightly yellow around the edges, his pupils wide and unseeing. “Angelus. He’d be fucking me, filling me and then pull out, drape ‘em together and take ‘em both down to the root.” Spike’s eyes were now completely golden, his mouth open as he panted out the words.

Xander groaned, leaning closer to Spike. “You and Angel?” he asked, his eyes on Spike’s mouth.

Spike nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “Damn good lay, Angelus, could fuck for hours on end, ram into ya over and over until you thought you just might pass out…”

Xander was panting now. He licked his lips, eyes still focused on a pink mouth that was being licked as well. Xander groaned and moved, his mouth colliding with Spike’s. Unsure, uncomfortable, they kissed, teeth clashing, and lips sliding. They pulled away, their eyes meeting, wide with shock.

“What the fuck was that?” Xander squeaked.

“Kiss,” Spike grunted, wrapping a hand around Xander’s neck and pulling him forward.

The mouth disappears again, returning to the base of his cock and moving even lower. His thighs spread automatically, his knees lifting, offering a perfect view of pale fingers sliding in and out of his warm, tight opening.

That mouth was now barely brushing against his balls, pushing them around. The other hand comes into play, squeezing and pinching the flesh there, making it draw up. Then the firm piece of flesh between his balls and opening. This is all that exists, because that tongue was there, ghosting over it, teasing it. He had no idea that that place existed either.

The fingers draw out, the mouth moves away, and he is suddenly and utterly empty.

A loud buzz sounded and Xander slowly pulled away from Spike, his eyes wide. Spike’s mouth, swollen and red, once again drew his attention as yellow-tinted eyes watched him back away. Xander stood and walked slowly into the kitchen, turned off the timer and pulled the pan out of the oven.

The earthy smell of homemade cornbread filled the small area. Spike stepped into the room, drawn by the tantalizing scent. Two plates, knives, beer and butter found their way to the table. They ate in silence, watching as butter dripped from crumb-coated fingers.

Tongues followed, lapping at the sweet drippings falling from the crusty wedges. Hums of pleasure sent thrills down the spine of the cook and smiles were shared. Once the skillet was empty, they moved. Stepped into the bathroom side by side and washed up, their eyes never meeting.

Back into the living room, Spike avoiding his normal chair to settle on the couch, a hopeful look in his eye. Xander sighed and moved to Spike’s chair. A loud ripping noise filled the air, causing both men to jump and Xander to blush. Spike laughed as Xander leaned to the side and pulled a whoopee cushion out from under the cushion of the chair. “I forgot I put this here.”

The tension momentarily broken, they grinned at each other from miles apart.

“No, no!” he cries, the loss more than he can bear. Shushing noises whisper over him and he calms, waiting. Something big, rounded and slick presses against him and he whimpers.

It hurts, this oh so slow push to possess him. He squeezes against the intrusion and gasps when it becomes so much easier. His eyes fly up to meet those above him and the passion and pleasure in that gaze is nearly his undoing. Strong fingers clamp around his cock and he sighs with something between relief and disappointment.

More sliding, and will it ever end? Hurts, but feels so good and then stars are shooting behind his eyelids, which he doesn’t remember closing and he’s so close, even with that grip around the base of his cock, so close.

There is a soft brush of skin against his bottom and he can feel how full he is. How whole.

Silence reigned.

After many long moments, the smiles faded. A little longer and frowns began to filter over guarded faces. Spike coughed, a sound so unexpected that Xander dropped the toy in his hand. He watched it fall to the floor and then lifted his eyes back to Spike’s.

“Gonna kiss you again, boy,” Spike intoned, his voice a low, deep growl, before standing and moving to hover over Xander.

Xander nodded, the only response he could think of before he was enveloped in a warm, buttery embrace.

His legs move automatically to wrap around thin hips. Thrusting up, he cries out his lover’s, and surely they’re lovers now, name.

Sweet kisses are pressed to his lips as he struggles beneath the lighter frame. Pain/pleasure, it’s all become a single entity now and he is helpless to resist.

Long, slow thrusts are accompanied by even longer kisses. Tongues stroke softly as mouths are explored. It has never been like this, he realizes. It has never been about both partners. He feels tears escaping but they do not reach his cheeks. Instead, they’re softly tongued away, coolness replacing their burning heat.

“Spike,” Xander whispered against the soft skin of Spike’s cheek.

“Mmmm?” Spike answered quietly, his lips and tongue dancing torturously against Xander’s throat.

“Can you do that?” Xander asked, barely breathing out the words.

Lifting his head, Spike looked into Xander’s eyes and shrugged. “Dunno. But ‘m gonna find out.” That said, he settled into Xander’s lap, his mouth once again finding Xander’s throat, drawing intricate designs before blanking the slate and starting over.

Arching his back, he begins to move, rolling his hips, and sighing out each time that place is touched. His lover slides in and out more easily now, and his name is there, on those lips. He can hear what isn’t being said, in his name. Devotion, adoration, love… but it’s too soon to actually say the words, so instead, the syllables spell out ‘Xander’, and he is happy.

The cruelly tight hand finally moves, and he can feel his orgasm starting up once more. Just as he bites his lip to help stay it off for a little longer; a second, a minute, an hour; his throbbing member is engulfed in a tight wetness that he never expected.

Back into that throat, as his lover continues to pound into him, filling him and taking him in all at once. He bites his lip and comes with a scream. “Spike!”

Once they finished and Spike rolled off of him, both gasping for air, Xander turned onto his side, noticing for the first time that the green in Spike’s hair matched the green of the couch. The couch that Willow and Tara spent hours re-dying last weekend to cover the spots of who knows what that was all over it.

“Spike?” he asked quietly.

“Hmmmm?” was the contented answer.

Xander grinned and ran his hair through the soft curls that were falling down and framing Spike’s beautiful face. “Did you use the bottle of shampoo that was sitting on the shelf in the bathroom?” Spike nodded and Xander began to chuckle. “Why didn’t you use the bottle that was in the shower?”

Spike opened his eyes and glared at Xander. “Why do you… Never mind. The bottle in the shower was empty.” His eyes fell shut again, only to snap back open as Xander began to laugh loudly, rolling away from Spike and climbing up to his knees.

“You do remember,” Xander gasped out between spurts of laughter. “That Tara said not to use the bottle that she had left on the shelf, that they had put the rest of the dye they’d mixed up to do the couch in the bottle, right? You remember her saying that since there wasn’t a pen anywhere in the house, she couldn’t mark it? Remember that she made both of us repeat after her that the bottle was full of green dye and not shampoo?”

Spike’s eyes widened, and a growl escaped him. Xander kept laughing, backing away from the growly vamp on the floor next to him. Strong arms suddenly grabbed him and he was towed inelegantly toward the bathroom. “Spike! What are you doing?” The sound of running water filtered out into the living room. “No. No Spike! Don’t!”

Laughter, careless and free, tangled with indignant shouts as the lovers shared the first of many memories together.

The End

Written for [info]_beetle_ , who wanted PG-13 or higher, snark humor/angst, with the color green, a whoopee cushion fart and a whisk. Additionally, she wanted a heretofore unknown talent for Xander and a hidden talent for Spike, or vice versa.

The End