His & His Alone


Part Seven

Xander groaned and tried to shift sideways, scowling as his harness tugged at his balls. Jumping wasn't good – the chain attaching his nipple ring to his guiche piercing meant that shifting even his chest meant that his balls were squeezed and tugged. He was sure being in a constant state of arousal was bad for his health but Spike liked him horny all the time, so horny he was.

He tried to concentrate on the conversation going on around him but it was boring to say the least. Spike was visiting his local territories and on this occasion he was speaking to the manager of his demonic sericulture. The giant s'ilkworms were making Spike an absolute fortune, their woven silk bringing in huge amounts of money. Xander thought they were creepy and ugly, their skins a mottled grey, slimy as they writhed whilst doing their work. But making money made Spike happy, and a happy Spike meant less pain which was definitely of the good. Unfortunately, the sericulture wasn't making as much money as it should and Spike was in a bad mood because of it. The Hellmouth was having a detrimental effect on the s'ilkworms and they were not producing the same quality or quantity of silk as expected.

There was something off about the foreman. He couldn't put his finger on it, wasn't sure why he felt that way, and he resented the inner voice that told him he should tell Spike what was going on. He didn't belong to Spike – he wasn't owned regardless of what the hyena would say. But the inner pressure was starting to get really uncomfortable, making him squirm and shake. He felt no loyalty to Spike – no, he wanted to feel no loyalty to Spike, but in this instance his inner senses told him it was the right thing to do, that it was part of his duty to serve Spike the best way he could. Despite himself, he wanted to warn Spike, and how sick did that make him that the demon that owned him, fucked him, bit and beat him inspired such loyalty? Unable to hold back any longer, he shifted forward and tugged on the hem of Spike's duster.

“Wot boy?!!” Angry at being interrupted, Spike scowled down at Xander.

“Master – I need to speak to you.”

“Speak then – busy here, pet.” Smoking furiously, he wondered what his pet wanted now. Ever since the day he had given Xander the boon, he had been feeling dis-quietened. The boy had gotten too close – it seemed like instead of Xander falling under his spell, he was falling under the boy's spell and he didn't like it. Wasn't the way things were meant to be – he was the Master. He wasn't gonna be the bitch in this scenario – he'd had enough of being led around by his heart and his cock and it wasn't gonna happen again.

With a flick of his wrist, he gestured the overseer away then turned to Xander once more. This had better be good.

“He's lying to you Master.”


“I – I can't explain how I know, but he's lying to you. The stuff he was saying about why production being down – something's not right about it.”

“Where's this coming from Pet?? This guy's been running the s'ilk farm for a bloody long time – what makes you think you know better than 'im?” Squatting down on his haunches, Spike looked Xander in the face, reaching out to stroke the broad tanned shoulders enhanced by the black leather harness. No two ways about it, his boy was a gorgeous piece – the platinum silver of his nipple ring with the chain reaching down his long body and under to his guiche.

“I can't explain it Master, but – something inside me says he's lying to you. I'm sorry – I shouldn't have spoken.” Lowering his gaze, Xander tried to hide his face and his confusion – there was no logic in what he was feeling but something within him was positive that master was being cheated and he had to do something about it.


Turning to look over his shoulder at the foreman, Spike considered the other demon. He was an ugly bastard – hooked claws instead of hands, beady black eyes in a scrunched up face. He tried to recall what type of demon it was, what it's characteristics were, but he couldn't quite remember.

“S'that right, Norfchuk? You cheating the Master of Sunnydale?” He remained crouched but was ready to leap into action if necessary. Norfchuk was shifting from foot to foot, obviously nervous, and Spike suddenly realised where the boy was coming from. Was this what the hyena meant about being of use to him? Could this be part of it's Protector duties to look after, to serve Spike's best interests whether Xander wanted to or not?

“NO!” Xander's scream pierced the air and faster than Spike could react, he was shoved to one side as his pet tried to jump to his feet. Like a slow-motion movie, he could only watch as Norfchuk threw himself at both of them, claws becoming sword-length as he attacked. Landing awkwardly, Spike saw one claw slice through Xander's chest, the other slipping as the demon fell, stabbing into the ground as he hit the dirt. Xander's scream of pain was matched by Spike's howl of anger and belated vampire speed brought him to his feet quickly, grabbing Norfchuk's head by his antennae with both hands and twisting until the demon was facing his own back.

Spike flew to Xander's side, easing the boy to the ground as he scented the blood oozing sluggishly from the wound high on the boy's chest. Spike registered minions streaming past him, gathering the writhing Norfchuk and pulling him to his feet. But all Spike could see was the blood flowing from Xander's chest, the pained look in the hazel eyes as he tried to make his boy comfortable.

“Master Spike? Master Spike – please, let us take him. A healer has been called but we need to take him back to the main house now.” Spike watched as Xander was lifted carefully and carried away by several of the entourage that had accompanied them on the visit, a thin trail of blood marking Xander's passage. Standing, fangs dropped and demon fully unleashed, Spike turned to where Norfchuk was held captive.

“If anything - anything happens to my boy, I will keep you alive simply to make you wish you were dead. Get that fucker out of my sight and lock him up!” Stomping up and down, Spike could barely believe what had happened. Xander had risked his life for him – had taken a sword through the chest for Spike. He'd been fighting his feelings for the damned boy and he'd gone and done something like this, It was so fucking unfair – how dare his pet allow himself to be damaged this way? He looked down at the ground and realised the slight glint he could see in the dirt was Xander's chain. It had obviously been ripped off when he pushed Spike out of the way, and Spike couldn't hold back a wince as he realised just how much that must have hurt. The boy had obviously moved instinctively, but to bear the pain of the chain wrenching loose from both his nipple ring and his guiche piercing in defence of Spike – it just beggared belief.

Standing, trailing the thin chain through his fingertips, Spike wondered what the hell he would do if his boy was damaged beyond repair?

Part Eight

Rolling over, Spike growled at the healer who had interrupted him, brushing off the hand that tried to sneak onto his groin.

“What the fuck do ya want?”

“Master Spike – you asked to be kept informed of your Pet's progress and any methods that might prove helpful.” Bowing low, the healer tried to make himself as small as possible.

“So?” Spike sat up and lit a cigarette, now paying full attention. His boy had been locked away in a healing coma since the incident at the S'ilkworm Farm with strict instructions that he not be disturbed. So far, his healers had come up with nothing and he was getting seriously pissed off about it. He wanted action and he wanted it now – he didn't want to have to make do with the demon-fuckers that hung around the court like the smarmy little bastard currently trying to worm his way into Spike's affections simply because Spike used him as a bedwarmer.

“You wish me to speak frankly in front of your – er, pet?”

“Who him?” Turning to his bed companion, Spike grabbed at the dirty blond hair, yanking the boy's head backwards. “What's your name mate?” With his other hand, he continued smoking, smirking as he heard the human heartbeat falter then kick into high gear.

“A....An......Andrew” the boy finally stuttered out.

“Andrew, right yeah. Andrew – you wouldn't repeat anything you heard here, would you?? I mean, no-one interested to tell, and you know all about not messing with demon business don't you boy?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean – whatever you say master Spike.” The boy was shaking, his heartbeat speeding up until it was a loud thud-thud-thud in Spike's ears. Annoyed with the hyperventilating that was getting louder and was so unnecessary, Spike flicked his cigarette towards the end of the bed and turned towards Andrew, wrapping his hands around the boy's throat.

“Anything I say?” Andrew nodded, the sharpness of his chin digging into Spike's hands at the exaggerated head movements. “Then stop being so noisy Andrew,” Spike said, moving both hands with a quick motion like jerking the reins of a horse, and snapped Andrew's neck. He kicked the limp body off the bed, dragging the sheets to his waist and sitting up near the headboard. “Right, you were saying?”

“I – sir, I - “

“'less you're planning on joining him, I suggest you get on with it.”

“Master Spike, it requires a sacrifice be made.”

“What sort of sacrifice?”

“A essence of life, Master Spike.”

“Right – somehow doesn't surprise me. Mojo always seems to be about blood, sex or life. Okay, get the boy ready and do what you need to do. I want me boy back.”

Angelus had been generous, not a surprise though. The sacrifice he sent to Spike wasn't without benefits to him although Spike decided he wasn't going to question it. Seemed quite poetic really, using a Watcher in a demonic sacrifice. He wondered if this would ever end up in any chronicles, then shrugged. Somehow he doubted it – Angelus wasn't really the literary type. He turned back to the main hall, watching as the final preparations were made.

Xander was laid on a pallet, breathing shallowly. His body was completely healed but his mind seemed to have gone walkies – Spike wondered if it had anything to do with the hyena? The pallet was next to the huge crate that Angelus had sent from L.A and Spike admitted to being impressed. Took someone major to create what was in that box in L.A. weather – he wondered if Drusilla had helped out at all? He hoped not – somehow, mojo with Dru always seemed to go wrong and he didn't see the little red witch helping out with that much,

The crate was opened and Spike looked down into the streaming, red-rimmed eyes of their sacrifice. The man was encased in a hard, white substance that covered his entire body apart from his head. Various wires and leads went into the white casing to parts of his body, and a beeping machine in the corner of the crate seemed to be keeping track of his vitals. Cocking his head, Spike realised the person in the crate reminded him of – in fact, it took Spike back a few years and he realised his captive looked like nothing so much as a giant snowman! It was a surreal thought and perhaps the reason for the grin that crossed Spike's face.

“Sorry mate, they didn't tell me ya name. Who are ya?” Blinking in the sudden light of the room, the man squinted slightly, obviously missing spectacles of some kind.

“What do you need my name for?” Spike shrugged – he didn't give two shits but he had a feeling his boy would want to know.

“Watcher ain't you? Woulda thought you'd appreciate knowing that all this is gonna be chronicled in some way. Wouldn't you want any ancestors to know what happened to you?” The man tilted his head slightly, or as much as he was able, thinking it through before nodding once and Spike found himself admiring the quickness of the decision and the resolve the man was showing – it was a real shame. The English accent had reminded Spike of home, and he got the feeling that if things, life, had been different he and Percy here could have been friends.

“My name is Wesley – Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Am I correct in thinking you are William the Bloody?”

“You are indeed, mate. So what's this about the Slayer – Faith summat?? Hear you and she ran Angelus ragged for a while there mate. Almost made a difference.” Wesley looked sad for a moment then obviously took a deep breath and met Spike's gaze.

“We were not all that remains of the Resistance. Humankind will never give up fighting you know. I would have thought you would know that out of all demons, having been human yourself once.”

“You're right there, Wes. And that's what I love – you humans are always good for a decent fight. Be right boring if everyone just turned round and did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Damned shame what 'Gelus did to your slayer though – no class having an army take her out instead of doing the job himself.”

Spike looked up and caught his healer's eye, nodding briskly. It was time.

“Look, Wes – my boy woulda wanted to say thanks so I'll say it for him. Know this ain't voluntary but sorta feels like it's only polite an' all that. So yeah – thanks mate. What you're giving is going to make a helluva a difference and if it makes you feel any better the boy's got fighting spirit to spare. If he wasn't bonded to my demon, I can almost guarantee you he'da been part of your resistance. Fare thee well on your journey.” Stepping back, Spike moved to where he was directed, well out of the way of the spell. He didn't want the deadness of his body getting in the way – not much point sacrificing Wes and taking his life-force and jamming it into Xander if the magic got high-jacked in some way. And Spike certainly didn't fancy being 'full of life' again – he was happy being a vampire and felt no need to change that. He just wanted his boy full of life.

The boy came out of it very quickly, much quicker than Spike had expected. One minute he was lying on the pallet next to the emaciated husk that had once been the Watcher Wesley, the next he was flying up and attacking Spike with what would have been tooth and claw if he had been able to transform into the hyena.

The howl coming out of his mouth was feral,the grip he had on Spike's head was fierce and if he'd had fangs they would have been embedded in Spike's neck. All of this had the expected effect of turning Spike's cock rock hard in seconds as he threw the boy off him and attacked him right back. Minions and healers scattered in an attempt to get out of the way and out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw them hurry to clear the room. It hadn't been his intention to reclaim the little bastard with a corpse in the room, but if the hyena needed reclaiming he wasn't gonna get all poncy and insist on dinner, wine and flowers!

The main hall didn't have much in the way of furniture which was a good thing because the hyena was well pissed off and in need of wearing out. Which seemed to consist of needing to be thrown around the room by Spike, each and every time coming right back to beat up on and be beaten up on by Spike some more. They were both covered in blood and bruises by the time the animal had calmed down enough for Spike to try talking to it, and it was a bloody close thing as to whether Spike snapped it's friggin' neck or came in his jeans. The boy was so turned on his cock was pushing straight up, brushing his belly and bobbing as he moved around, leaking pre-come all over the place and throwing out scents so distracting anyone not used to the gorgeous smells the boy emanated would have lost the battle simply because they were drowning in their senses.

“You gonna tell me what you're pissed about?” Bent over in a defensive position, Spike spoke through gritted teeth, pausing long enough to spit out some blood and what looked like one of his back teeth. Bastard hyena had a fuckin' mean right hook.

“Mate smells of someone else.” And right there Spike realised what this was all about. The hyena wasn't upset that it/Xander got hurt. It was pissed off that Spike had fucked someone else. Well bugger, he didn't remember signing any marriage vows or promising fidelity.

“Yeah, and?”

“We protected you and you mated someone else.”

“No I fucking didn't!! Get it right, Pet. Yeah right, you protected me and I did everything I could to get you well. An' a vamp gets lonely – so what if I dipped my wick elsewhere?” The sentence was barely out of his mouth before the hyena attacked again, shoving it's shoulder into Spike's stomach and ramming him into the nearest wall, growling the entire time. Arms over his head, Spike slammed them down onto Xander's back, lifting his knee into the boy's face and knocking him backwards. “I didn't 'mate' anyone! I didn't claim anyone else – it was fucking, pure and simple pet.” Straddling the prone body, Spike looked down. “Honest. Hand on my unbeating heart – I didn't claim anyone else.”

“You speak truth?”

“I speak truth. Only person I'm looking to claim is you, luv. Wouldn't have gone to all this trouble for anyone else – got it?” He waited then grinned as the head tilted and the hyena telegraphed it's submission with the baring of it's throat. Rougher than he had intended, he flipped the body over onto it's front, dropping his full weight onto the hot, sweating body beneath him. He inhaled roughly, taking in the beloved scent. Beloved scent? No, not beloved – he just appreciated a decent ally. And the hyena had risked it's life for him – that was an ally he could rely on, would protect. “You smell wrong, luv. Gotta get my scent back onto you good and proper – you smell a bit like that Percy fella, not all you.” All the while he was talking, Spike was rubbing his body up and down, scent marking the strong back beneath him. Pressing his hands against the floor, he rubbed from the top of Xander's shoulders all the way down his back, sniffing, nibbling, taking little bites as he slowly infused the boy with his scent. He smelled wrong – not just feral like he did when the hyena was at the forefront, but wrong and Spike's demon was protesting vociferously. But quicker than he'd expected, the boy's scent was coming back and now he was smelling more and more like his Xander.

Splitting the taut brown cheeks, he rubbed his face between them, relishing the scent of his boy, reminding himself of all that belonged to him. He continued down Xander's body – the strong, muscular thighs, tight calves, long narrow feet, then worked his way back up. Splitting the boy's legs as he moved between them, he could feel his erection rubbing against his jeans as it reacted to having Xander back. Fucking was fucking, but this – this belonging only came when he was with his boy. And he wanted to claim his boy back, mark him once more. He didn't kid himself – he knew once he'd fought the hyena, he would once more be back to fighting the more human side of Xander, but he didn't give a fuck. He had them back and he was going to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. Wasn't risking this kinda loyalty. He would get the boy trained up in proper fighting; make sure if he was going to stand at Spike's side he was ready and able to defend himself as well as Spike. This time, nothing was coming between them. Their bond remained – that was one of the first things he'd sensed when the boy came back to consciousness. The piercings – well the nipple one would be re-done but he was wary of having the guiche done again. Too many bad associations. But his claiming bite – oh yeah, he was looking forward to doing that and he knew exactly where he was going to put it.

Sliding up between Xander's thighs, he turned his face and pressed his lips against the lower curve of one tight buttock, licking and sucking up a mark before letting his face change. Holding the boy down by his hips, forcing the writhing body to be still, he bit down and made his claiming mark, cum flooding his jeans as he finally re-tasted his boy. At the edge of his consciousness, he heard the moans coming from Xander, smelt the come as the boy released with not even a single touch and his head reared back and he roared his triumph. He had everything he had ever wanted – he couldn't give a flying fuck what else Angelus did with the world. With Xander back, with Itanya back, Spike had everything he needed to make his life complete – the boy was his and his alone.

The End