Spoilers: Nothing really, but through end of season 5 to be on the safe side.
Summary: Xander throws a private birthday celebration for Spike.
Notes: Fluff, the whole fluff, and nothing but the fluff. Written for The Batpack Birthday Fanfic Challenge for Spike's birthday and a birthday spanking in honor of JM's birthday.
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whomever else they really belong to, although I wouldn’t mind having a Spike of my own. Who would? The story is mine, though.
Thanks: Tammy, my wonderful and lovely beta; she’s a gem among, uh, other shiny stuff.
Written: August 29, 2003
The Birthday Party
Xander looked around the apartment nervously. Spike would be here any minute now, and he hoped he hadn’t forgotten anything. He really hoped he hadn’t gotten this wrong. He’d been planning this for weeks, and he’d be mortified if it wasn’t what Spike needed...or wanted.
The idea had started niggling at him when he caught an almost wistful expression flash across Spike’s face at Dawn’s birthday party. It was gone almost immediately, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. He spent some time thinking about it before he worked up the courage to call Angel, and then some more before he had the nerve to actually start planning this private celebration of Spike’s birthday.
Xander jumped apprehensively as the knock on the door pulled him back to the present.
The door opened slowly and an anxious Xander peered out of the tiny crack at Spike. “Hey, Spike,” he said.
“Xander,” Spike drawled. “Gonna let me in?”
“Uh huh,” Xander replied without moving. “Don’t be mad, ‘kay?”
What was the boy going on about now? “Not gonna be mad. ‘Less you don’t let me in,” Spike said.
“Oh. Okay.” Xander stepped back and pulled the door open so Spike could squeeze through. He froze in shock with his coat half off when he finally got a look at the apartment. The drapes were pulled and the lights dimmed, candlelight reflected off every shiny surface, soft music played in the background, a computer-generated sign that read ‘Happy Birthday, Spike’ hung over the TV, and a cake with a single candle and a small pile of presents graced the coffee table.
“What’s this, then?” he asked.
“Happy Birthday, Spike!” Xander yelled, raising a noisemaker to his lips and blowing on it. “I have hats,” he said.
Spike barely heard him as he tried to assimilate all he was seeing. “Hey, now! I ain’t wearing no soddin’ hat,” Spike said when he saw Xander grab two Spiderman™ birthday hats off the counter. Xander put one on, and then came for Spike. “No,” Spike growled, trying to get away from Xander.
Xander trapped him against the door and pouted. “Please?”
Spike’s arms were trapped at his sides, since he hadn’t managed to get the jacket off, but Xander wasn’t forcing the hat on him—unless you counted the puppy eyes. Xander, the little git, knew he couldn’t resist those.
With a second growl, he lunged forward and captured Xander’s lips. When he was done, they were no longer pouting, but they were swollen, wet, and begging to be kissed again. So he did. He managed to extricate himself from the duster and let it fall to the floor, wrapping his arms around Xander and pulling him close, rubbing their groins together.
Xander slithered out of his grasp. “Do you wanna do cake or presents first?” he asked.
“What?” Spike yelped, arms clutching at empty space. He’d been sure they were on their way to being good ‘n naked.
“Cake or presents?” Xander repeated.
“Shag!” Spike insisted.
“Later,” Xander said firmly.
“Who are you?” Spike demanded. “And what have you done with Xander?”
“Hey, I have some control!” Xander protested.
Spike snorted. Xander retaliated by plopping the party hat on his head and snapping the elastic under his chin.
“Ow!” Spike complained, but left it where it was at Xander’s pleading eyes. Oh, bugger!
Xander took Spike’s hands and pulled him into the living room. “Sit.” He gently pushed the vampire towards the couch. “Now, once more, cake or presents first?”
Spike looked over the bounty on the coffee table, then looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Can’t do both?”
Xander might have been strong enough to resist those big blue eyes on their own, but the combination of the eyes and the paper hat was too much. “Okay,” he agreed. “I just need to heat up your blood. Don’t touch anything,” he warned. Spike looked at him innocently, and Xander just shook his head.
When Xander returned with the mug of heated blood, he sat on the couch beside Spike before setting it on the coffee table. He gave Spike a look.
“What?” the blond asked innocently, which was belied by the fact he was still licking the chocolate frosting off his finger.
“Here’s your blood,” Xander said, slipping a spoon in the mug and sliding it over to Spike.
“What’s the spoon for?” he asked. “Gonna feed me?” He leered.
Xander rolled his eyes. “So you can drizzle it on the cake. On your piece of cake,” he quickly corrected. “Mine is the raspberry sauce. Don’t get ‘em mixed up. Please,” he said as he reached for the lighter.
“What’re you doing?” Spike asked.
“Lighting the candle,” Xander replied.
“It’s tradition,” Xander said, lighting the candle.
“You’re not gonna sing, are you?” Spike asked worriedly.
“Uh huh,” Xander replied with a grin.
“No. Please, Xander, if you love me at all...”
“Ha ha ha.” Xander wrinkled his face up to show he was in fact not amused, and then sang ‘Happy Birthday’. When he was finished, he told Spike to make a wish. The other man just looked at him. “What?” Xander asked.
“What brought this on?” Spike asked, his head tilted to the side.
“Wanted to celebrate your birthday,” Xander said.
Spike could tell Xander wasn’t telling him the entire truth. “Xan,” he pressed.
“The wax is gonna melt all over the cake,” Xander said, waving his fingers nervously at the cake.
With a quick move, Spike pulled Xander onto his lap.
“Spike!” he squealed.
“Not that I don’t appreciate all this,” Spike said, looking around them. “Candles, chocolate cake, presents...but why?”
Xander squirmed and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “I just thought...you might...wanna...celebrate,” Xander stammered. “And I wanted to do something special for you.”
“How’d you know the date?” he asked softly.
Xander squirmed some more, and mumbled, “IcalledAngel.”
“What?” Spike asked. He couldn’t possibly have heard right.
“I called Angel,” Xander repeated more slowly. “Are you mad?”
“Why? I mean, why would you call Angel?” Spike asked. “You hate Angel,” he added, sounding confused.
“Because I love you,” Xander said, looking at him through lowered lashes.
Spike slid his hand behind Xander’s neck and tugged him down for a kiss. He pulled back before the kiss got out of hand. This celebration must mean an awful lot to Xander for the boy to have called Angel. “Move.” He lightly slapped Xander’s ass. “I need to make a wish.”
Xander slid back onto the couch next to him. Spike looked him over, head to toe, let his lips curl up in a smirk, and then turned away to make his wish and blow out the candle. He leaned back into the couch. “Better cut the cake before my blood gets cold,” he said imperiously.
Xander grinned. Spike had taken the whole celebration idea pretty well, and was still wearing the party hat. He cut the cake and slid two slices onto small Spiderman™ paper plates, handing one to Spike, and keeping the other for himself. He covered his slice in raspberry sauce, and watched Spike artistically drizzle blood over his.
He waited until Spike took a bite of cake, watching his face light up at the taste. “This is good,” Spike said with his mouth full. Xander smirked to himself. He knew how much the vampire liked chocolate, plus, it always made him horny, so Xander made a chocolate cake and added chocolate chips to the batter, a layer of chocolate pudding between the two layers of cake, and chocolate frosting. Spike wasn’t the only one getting presents on his birthday.
When Spike was halfway done with his cake, Xander asked, “You want to open a present now?”
Spike’s eyes got big, and he quickly swallowed the bite of cake he had in his mouth. “Yeah,” he nodded excitedly, setting his plate on the end table.
Xander shivered at the look of fervent excitement in Spike’s eyes. He usually only saw that look when Spike was ripping his clothes off. The vampire must have sensed his arousal, because he slowly turned his head and looked at him, his eyes running over Xander’s body. “Do I get to pick which present I unwrap first?” he asked, his voice sultry.
“No!” Xander yelped, reaching for the pile of presents. He handed one to Spike, and the other man played with the taped ends for a bit before ripping the paper off. It reminded Xander again how Spike would start to slowly undress him until he couldn’t take the waiting anymore, and tore at Xander’s clothes until he was naked, and begging, and writhing...
“Pet?” Spike called.
Xander looked up guiltily. “Yes?” His voice squeaked.
“These can wait,” he offered, dropping the present on the coffee table and reaching for Xander.
“No! No, no, no,” Xander said, shoving himself down the couch and out of Spike’s immediate reach. He growled. Xander didn’t look impressed. He pouted. Aha! A chink in the boy’s armor. He blinked. He knew Xander couldn’t resist the blink, especially combined with the pout.
Before Spike could react, Xander’s plate was on the coffee table, and Xander was straddling his lap. He threaded his fingers into Spike’s hair, sucked his pouting bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on it, and then soothed it with his tongue. Xander grabbed a fistful of Spike’s hair and tugged his head back, slipping his hot, velvet tongue into Spike’s mouth and mapping it before sliding it against Spike’s tongue.
Spike grabbed his hips and yanked him closer, lifting his own hips so they rubbed together. Xander shuddered, and then slowly released his lips. He buried his face in Spike’s neck and took a deep breath. “This has to wait,” he groaned.
“Why?” Spike whined, still thrusting their hips together.
“Because I’ve got plans for you,” Xander breathed in his ear, and Spike shivered.
“Better’n this?” he asked.
Xander leaned back and looked into his eyes. “Nothing’s better than this,” he said, dropping his head to place a chaste, loving kiss on Spike’s lips. “But I think you’ll like it.”
Spike could see the regret in Xander’s eyes as he climbed off his lap and dropped onto the couch. Bloody hell, he was so hard it hurt. He adjusted himself in his jeans, and moaned. Xander held the present he’d already half-opened out to him, and Spike looked up into eyes black with desire. If Xander had stopped them when he so obviously wanted to continue, this had to be important to him. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath, Spike reached out and took the present.
His hands shook as he tore the rest of the paper off and threw it on the floor. He held the latest video game he’d been telling Xander he just had to have in his hand. And all he could think about was his cock. He groaned again.
“This is...this is great,” he said lamely, then looked at the brunette. “I’m sorry, Xander,” he whispered. “I’m being selfish. You did all this for me, and I love the game, and will so kick your ass when we play, but all I can think about is shoving my cock in your ass and making you scream.”
Instead of being mad, Xander grinned. He slid closer to Spike and placed his hand on his thigh. He rubbed his thumb along the inseam. “You like the game?” he asked.
“Hell, yes,” Spike moaned, letting his head fall back on the couch. Xander ran his fingers lightly up his hard flesh.
“Wanna open another present?” he asked. Spike’s eyes shot open. “Or more cake?” He slowly reached for Spike’s unfinished cake.
“Cock tease,” Spike muttered. Xander’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He stood and walked towards the bedroom. “Xan?” Spike called out. “Where you going?”
Xander returned with something in his hand. “Undo your jeans,” he said.
“Xan,” Spike tried to placate him.
“Now,” Xander snarled. Spike unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his erection jutting proudly from between the flaps of denim. “Push them down,” Xander demanded. Spike lifted his hips and complied.
Xander dropped to his knees between Spike’s legs and gripped his cock. Spike moaned in appreciation and desire. He loved it when his boy got bossy. Without warning, Xander took the cockhead into his mouth and sucked, one hand slowly working the shaft, the other slipping between his legs to fondle his balls. Spike moaned and thrust up while Xander sucked, and stroked, and kneaded.
Suddenly, Xander let go of him with a slurp, and stood. Spike’s eyes got big as he stared down at his cock, swollen, red, slicked with saliva, and surrounded by a leather strap that also lifted and separated his balls. He looked up at Xander in surprise. The boy was quick.
“Pull your jeans back up,” Xander commanded. Eyes locked together, Spike did as he’d been told. “Zip them.” Spike groaned. He was so fucking hard, this was going to hurt. He zipped his jeans, eyes still on Xander’s which had dilated so they now looked black. He knew what Xander saw, the red, glistening tip of his penis sticking out of his jeans. The boy shivered, and Spike smiled. Oh, yeah, he had him right where he wanted him, now.
“I’ll take another present now,” he whispered hoarsely, his hand moving over the bulge in his jeans.
“S-stop that,” Xander said, his voice cracking. “No touching. Here.” He reached back and grabbed the first present he came to, and handed it to Spike.
Ten minutes later, opened presents and balled-up wrapping paper lay in disarray around the couch. Spike had torn through the pile like a tornado, despite Xander distracting him by laying down on the couch and stretching out on his stomach, then proceeding to carefully and thoroughly lick the pre-come off the head of his cock. Not even the sight of the silly Spiderman™ hat still perched on Xander’s head had the effect of lessening his desire.
Spike looked through the loot he’d accumulated—in addition to the video game, there was a pair of black jeans, a black t-shirt, a navy blue t-shirt, a journal, a carton of smokes, and a bottle of the finest whiskey available in Sunnydale. There was one more present left; a small box. Spike looked expectantly at Xander, who was now sitting beside him, leaning on his shoulder.
“There’s one more, pet,” he said.
Xander looked at the last present, and swallowed hard. He leaned forward and slowly reached out to pick it up and hand it to Spike. He hesitated before relinquishing it to Spike. “It’s... I don’t know... If you don’t...,” he stammered. “Open it,” he said, his hand shaking as he pulled it back. He placed a finger between his teeth and bit down on it nervously.
Spike lifted the lid cautiously, curious as to what could have the boy in such a tizzy. When he saw the small item nestled on a bed of cotton, he froze.
“You hate it,” Xander said. “You don’t have to...”
“This what I think it is?” Spike asked, reaching into the box and lifting out the key chain and small key.
“Wh-what do you think it is?” Xander asked.
He looked at Xander in wonder. “I think it’s a key to your apartment,” he said.
“Oh, well, then you’d be right,” Xander said.
“Why?” Spike asked, still staring at it.
“Well, uh, so you could come and go, you know, as you please, or...so you could come and, uh, not go, if you wanted...to not go,” Xander responded, anxiously biting his nail.
“You want me to move in?” Spike asked, still in shock. He hadn’t seen this coming, despite the amount of time they spent together, and the number of nights he hadn’t left the apartment before sunrise.
“Only if you want to,” Xander hedged. “Do you want to?”
Spike was overwhelmed. He didn’t like being overwhelmed, it was...overwhelming. He wanted to yell from the rooftop, he wanted to jump like a little kid, he wanted to cry, he wanted... He tossed the box onto the floor and the key chain onto the coffee table, and then jumped Xander, pushing him onto his back on the couch and pressing his restrained cock into his boy’s groin.
“Fuck me, Xander,” Spike hissed. He buried his face in Xander’s neck, frantically licking and sucking while thrusting against him. “Please fuck me,” he begged.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” Xander asked breathlessly.
“Yes,” Spike growled. “Now fuck me, please!”
“I will,” Xander promised, gently pulling Spike’s face away from his neck and placing a kiss on his lips. “But we’re not done yet.”
Spike looked down at him in disbelief. They weren’t done, yet, he thought. “What do you mean, we aren’t done, yet?” he snarled.
“There’s still one more tradition...”
“It better be a birthday kiss,” Spike interrupted him.
Xander shook his head ‘no’.
“A birthday shag?”
“Uh, no,” Xander said.
“Xander!” Spike whined, as Xander pushed him back so he could sit up and disentangle his legs. He stood up and held his hand out to Spike, who stared at it, but considered ignoring it.
“I promise you’ll like it,” Xander cajoled.
“Wanna shag.” Spike pouted, ripping the hat off his head.
Xander’s eyes narrowed for the second time that evening, and Spike shivered. Bloody hell, the boy was glorious when he took charge. “Get up, Spike,” he ordered.
Spike hesitated before complying. Wouldn’t do for the boy to get too cocky. “What?” he asked petulantly.
“Stand behind the couch,” Xander commanded, and Spike moved around the couch, trying not to seem too eager. “Face the couch, and drop your jeans.”
“Just do it,” Xander said. Spike unzipped his jeans, moaning as his cock was released from confinement, glancing back over his shoulder to see what Xander was doing.
“What ya got there?” Spike asked as he slid his jeans over his hips. With a calculated wiggle just as Xander looked up, he let the jeans slide down his thighs.
“P-party favors,” Xander replied, his eyes caught by the sight of Spike’s ass. “B-bend over the couch,” he said.
Spike bent over the back of the couch, his bridled cock rubbing against the soft cotton towel Xander had placed there previously. He wiggled his ass again, wondering what the boy was up to. If he wanted him to bend over for his shag, all he had to do was say so, and he knew it, so this had to be something more.
“Gonna tell me what you want my bare bum for?” Spike asked, running one hand over his cheek, squeezing it until he noticed a change in Xander’s already ragged breathing.
Xander shook himself, and Spike could tell he was back in control. “The traditional birthday spanking, of course,” he said with an evil grin as he set the box of edible body oils down on the couch cushion where Spike could see them.
“Oh, fuck me,” Spike moaned. He would have come then and there, at the mere thought of the boy spanking him, if Xander hadn’t already made sure he couldn’t. They’d played rough, sometimes, but they’d never taken things this far. That Xander was doing so, taking the first step, despite it being couched as a birthday spanking, had Spike’s whole body trembling with desire for the boy. “Xander.”
“Stay bent over, and don’t look back here,” Xander instructed. He took the party hat off and let it fall to the floor, and then took off his shirt, and tossed it over Spike’s head to land on the couch in front of him. Spike moaned. Xander knew it would be a struggle for him to not turn around and watch him strip. He kicked his shoes off, and made sure Spike heard them hit the floor. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with a flourish, shoved them down his legs, and then tossed them the way of the shirt. Spike groaned, his hips flexing as he pressed his cock into the back of the couch.
Xander stepped up behind Spike and let the vampire feel his erection on his ass. “Xander,” Spike hissed. Xander ignored him, draping himself over the other man’s back and reaching down to finger the oils with one hand while the other snuck beneath Spike’s shirt to trail over sensitive skin.
“What do you think?” he asked against his neck. “Cotton candy?” Spike just moaned. He sounded as if he was in pain, and Xander knew that he was. “Wanna come, Spike?” he whispered.
“Yes! Fuck yes! Xander, please,” Spike begged, pressing his ass back.
Xander moaned as his own swollen cock surged. He should know better than to try and push Spike’s buttons, because the vampire knew how to push his buttons, too. “Take your shirt off,” he directed, forcing himself to stand up straight and take a step away from the vampire.
He flipped the top and squeezed some oil into his palm, and then rubbed his hands together while he watched Spike reach back and pull the t-shirt over his head. He had his boots on, his jeans down around his knees, and Xander wanted nothing more than to spread his cheeks and press inside him. He continued to warm the oil, giving himself time to calm down.
When he had, he placed his hands on Spike’s buttocks, and spread the oil, massaging it in. “How old are you, Spike?” he asked, conversationally.
“How...huh?” Spike asked, his brain obviously shutting down.
“How old are you?” Xander repeated as he lovingly stroked one buttock, and then slipped his fingers between them. Spike grunted and pushed back. “Can’t think right now? That’s okay,” Xander said. “Angel told me.” And with that, he brought his hand down in a stinging slap. He’d been practicing; he didn’t want to hit too hard, or too soft. “Count,” he commanded.
“One,” Spike said. “Ahh! Two.”
Xander layered Spike’s buttocks and the top of the back of his thighs with twenty-five blows. The skin had turned a lovely shade of pink, so Xander knew he could take more, but his hand needed a rest. He rubbed both cheeks soothingly, slipping teasing fingers between them to play with his hole, and then gave him twenty-five more.
By the time he’d reached one hundred, Spike was frenziedly rubbing himself against the couch, and his own cock was ready to explode. He applied the final twenty-five strokes, and then immediately grabbed the oil. He flipped the top and squirted some onto Spike’s back, just above his cleft, and then into his hand.
He coated his cock with the oil in his palm, moaning at the touch of his hand on sensitive flesh. He slicked his fingers in the oil dripping down Spike’s ass and slid one finger into him. The vampire groaned and pushed back. Xander wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard him growl, “It’s about bloody time!”
Xander pulled the finger out, and replaced it with two. He slid them in and out of Spike’s ass, stretching and lubricating him, and then reached for his prostate. The touch seemed to set Spike off, and he began to fuck himself on Xander’s fingers. He complained loudly when Xander pulled out of him, gasping in relief when he shoved three fingers into his slippery channel.
He slowly fucked Spike’s ass with his fingers as his hand moved up and down his own aching cock, drawing out the pleasure/pain for both of them. When he could take it no longer, he carefully pulled out and placed his cockhead at the stretched entrance.
“Do it!” Spike growled impatiently.
Xander grasped his hips and pushed. They both groaned when his head breached the ring of muscle. He continued to push until his cock was completely sheathed within Spike’s ass. He held still, afraid that any movement would cause him to lose control; being inside Spike’s body always affected him this way. He ran his hands up Spike’s back, and then down to his hips.
When he thought he could do so without coming immediately, Xander pulled back, and then slammed into Spike. He changed his angle until he knew he was hitting the vampire’s prostate on each thrust. He was so fucking close, and if Spike’s begging was any indication, he needed to come badly, too.
His balls tightened. Without slowing, Xander reached around Spike, and released the straps around his cock and balls. Spike’s entire body stiffened and he roared as the once-denied orgasm ripped through him. His internal muscles clamped down on Xander, and Xander screamed his own release, following his lover into oblivion.
When Xander regained his senses, he and Spike were kneeling on the floor. Spike’s arms were raised above his head, and he held onto the couch, his face pressed into the back of it. He’d fallen forward onto Spike’s back, his face resting between his shoulder blades, his hands still gripping his hips.
“Happy Birthday,” he rasped, and then kissed the nearest shoulder blade.
“Gah,” Spike replied.
Xander grinned. “Love you,” he said.
“Mlvyt,” Spike said, and nodded.
Xander gently extricated himself from Spike. He laid down on the floor and stretched his arms and legs out, then reached for Spike and pulled him down next to him.
“You sure know how to throw one hell of a party, luv,” Spike said.
“Is that good?” Xander asked worriedly, his insecurities rising to the fore.
“Oh, yeah,” Spike agreed. “That’s good.”
“So, you, uh, wanna celebrate your birthday next year, too?” he asked.
“If we’re gonna celebrate like this,” Spike said, “hell yeah!” They rested in silence for a couple minutes, until Spike asked, “We, uh, we’re not going to have to wait until next year to do this again, are we?”
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