Pairings: S/X, S/X/F, S/X/A also Darla/Lindsey and Faith/Angel; may be other people involved or other pairings described at some point.
Rating: NC-17 slash
This is all the fault of entrenous88's dirtybadwrong young-Xander Spander fic, because she got me in the mood. *g*
Summary: human AU; Xander goes to a 5-day music festival to celebrate his 16th birthday alone and runs across a dubiously intentioned older Spike <coughs>
Warning: pwp. underage sex, obviously. Erm. Anything else that might come along, I’ll warn about later.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss and ME...alas, alack.
Feedback: please :)
This is not careening towards shippiness, for reasons that seem fairly obvious. Also, there will be exhibitionism, voyeurism, and quite possibly a threesome (with a woman), so please don’t be surprised or wounded if other buffyverse people come out to play.
Beta'd by sparrow2000
Xander looked around the fairground surreptitiously, scanning the concert crowd around him. He’d thought it was a good idea to come to the music festival, even if he had no one to go with, but now he was starting to doubt the idea. For some reason, he’d kind of counted on making friends, but you know, this wasn’t Woodstock, and no one had talked to him all afternoon. He felt awkward standing there by himself, bobbing his head to the music, when everyone else was sitting and standing in cozy little groups. It was exactly like the cafeteria, only it smelled like stale beer.
Xander caught one girl’s eye and smiled. When she smiled back, he shifted his weight to walk in her direction and strike up a conversation, but she quickly turned her back to him, and a moment later, she and her friend looked back at him and laughed.
Xander’s heart sank. He got that at school a lot. He fixed his eyes back on the stage and bobbed to the music again as though it hadn't stung.
This would probably be a whole lot easier if he was liquored up. They had confiscated his flask of JD at the gate. Actually, his dad’s flask, and he doubted his parents would notice he was missing, it being summer, but his ass was gonna get kicked later for losing one of his dad’s favorite possessions. Not to mention, Xander’s current sobriety. But there was always the beer stand, right? Good old beer stand, with its courage-giving syrup of the gods.
Standing in line for beer was better, because he could pretend he was doing a beer run for his very large group of close friends, and was not just weird loner guy standing by himself. The feeling of goodness quickly passed when he stepped up to the counter, opened his mouth, and was shot down with a look from the vendor that clearly said, “yeah right,” before the guy’s eyes flipped over his shoulder to the next customer who actually looked legal.
Some 16-year-olds could pass for 21, but Xander wasn’t one of them. He looked 15, which was logical, because his 16th birthday had been 2 days ago. He’d decided to celebrate his shiny new drivers license with tickets to the festival. Self-celebratory feelings were necessary, since Xander’s parents had forgotten. And he had no friends. Thus, the stint as weird loner guy at his own birthday party—he was weird loner guy.
Xander was shoved away from the counter by impatient of-age clientele. He was starting to feel like he should just leave the concert altogether, when he turned the corner of the beer hut and came face to face with The Guy He Wanted to Be. Xander stopped short and goggled. He’d kill to be that cool. To be able to pull off the bleached blond hair and have a body sculpted enough to make that tight black shirt look really, really good. The man’s prominent cheekbones hollowed out even further as he took a drag off of his cigarette and Xander felt warm man-wanting feelings in his belly. He’d long since given up denying them to himself, since being bi couldn’t hurt a social life that didn’t exist in the first place.
The man’s head turned towards him in slo-mo, and then sped up, so that Xander realized he’d been caught staring a millisecond before he was pinned by icy blue eyes. Xander didn’t breath as the man just stared with a stony expression, but his chest started burning for oxygen and finally he pulled in air with a gasp. The sound triggered a slow smile as the blue eyes slid to his mouth and back. There was something dangerous behind those eyes. If Xander were a smart little rabbit, he would run away. Instead, he felt his body listing forward.
Hello, flame. You can call me Moth.
“Cigarette?” the man asked, and that voice was so deep and smooth that Xander stumbled over himself to nod yes, if only so that he could maybe hear it again. He took the proffered stick and when he just stood dumbly with it between his fingers, the man crowded into his space and flipped a silver lighter smoothly open to light it. Xander didn’t start breathing again until he’d stepped back.
When he just let the thing smolder in his hand, the stranger cocked his head to one side, unabashedly watching him until Xander realized…oh, right, and lifted it to his lips like he did this all the time. He was pretty sure that the coughing fit from the painful burning in his lungs gave him away. The man grinned in patronizing amusement as he smoothly inhaled his own smoke, and Xander tried again, fighting to keep the coughing down. This time he almost succeeded. He began to mimic the man’s movements, and the man just watched him do so with detached interest.
The hot stranger’s eyes dropped from his again, and he made a slow perusal of Xander’s body as he continued to draw off his cigarette. The attention made a flush creep up Xander’s cheeks, but he tried not to back down. The man still hadn’t said anything yet, but his eyes said plenty as they touched on the black eyeliner that was smudgy from the heat and spiked collar that was sliding on his own sweat. His black t-shirt and jeans were sticking to his body, which had to seem gross. He knew he couldn’t pull any of it off and he looked stupid and gangly. Not to mention, as it turned out, outdoor festivals were more of a casual affair than he’d expected. People had been staring at him all day.
Xander was so absorbed with self-pity that he almost missed that the man had spoken, mumbling something around his cigarette that sounded strangely like “pretty.”
“Sorry?” Do not stutter, Harris. And do not stare at the man’s hand, which is neatly framing his package in those tight tight blue jeans…that were threadbare in nearly all the right places….
The man exhaled and smirked at the direction of Xander’s eyes when he failed miserably at keeping them above the waist.
“Not that I’m complaining about the visual, but you’re dressed a bit wrong for a thing like this, pet. As a public service, out of concern for your well-being, I should offer something more comfortable of my own that we might get you into.”
Xander was so transfixed by the accent, the flow of the words, that he barely heard the content. “Um…thanks?”
The man grinned, and it was edgy and nerve-wracking, like he’d just tricked Xander into something, but Xander didn’t know what.
“What’s your name, pet?”
“Well Xander, I’m Spike.” He took the hand that Spike offered, but Spike just held it, squeezing and rubbing instead of pumping up and down. It was a smooth move, and Xander’s hand tingled after he let go.
“And how old are you, Xander?” Cool blue eyes were laughing at him.
“Eighteen,” he answered without pausing.
Spike tilted his head back and released a plume of smoke, appraising Xander again out of the corner of his eye. “Very convincing, but try again.”
Xander considered lying again, but then this guy might go away, and Xander didn’t fully understand why they were talking. “Sixteen,” he said.
Spike looked mildly skeptical at that, and Xander got defensive.
“What, it’s true! My birthday was Thursday.”
Spike’s eyes flicked lazily down to his mouth and back, and Xander licked his lips, heartbeat accelerating. “Well if anyone asks, you told me you were 18. That way I can say I thought you were legal.”
Xander choked on the aborted inhale of smoke, coughing heartily. “What?” he finally managed.
Spike grinned at him ironically. “For the cigarettes,” he said casually, as if it should be obvious, but Xander couldn’t shake the feeling that they were talking about something else. Something that was causing a tingle in his pants. His first clue might have been the way that Spike’s eyes were lingering on the small gap between Xander’s t-shirt and his jeans. He was growing so fast these days, his parents couldn’t keep him in clothes. Self-consciously, Xander tugged it down.
Spike tossed away the remains of his cigarette and looked poised to go, so Xander figured his age had ended their conversation. “You here by yourself, Xander?” His name sounded odd in the other man’s mouth…sexier than it ever had, actually.
“What?” Xander laughed. “No, of course not, all my friends are….” Spike was looking at him knowingly. “Uh. Sorta.”
“’S no way to treat a birthday boy. C'mon.”
Spike didn’t wait for him, just turned and disappeared into the crowd, so Xander hurriedly stomped on his cigarette and followed the shock of white hair.
Xander leaned his back against the tree and tried to look as though this weren’t the most exciting thing that had happened to him all year. Spike and his friends had a little tent city set up practically to themselves, apart from a lot of the other campers. The tents were all pitched really close together in a ring, and they were sitting in the open space in the middle. Xander had tripped on a tent stake on the way through, predictably, but Spike had caught him and given him a muscle-melting smile which was just…guh.
The sun was starting to go down and the bands had stopped playing for the day, and Xander was oh-so-glad that he had found people to hang out with. Really cool people, who were all beautiful and all had that…thing that Spike had, that made you want to look at them.
Xander tried really hard to remember all of their names. There was Faith, who kept watching him knowingly with a secret smile that made him uncomfortable, in more ways than one. There was Willow, who had smiled at him in a nice way, and Oz, who was a small guy but seemed totally comfortable with that. There was Cordy, who was really pretty but who Xander didn't think he liked very much, because she had just scoffed, rolled her eyes and turned away when Xander said hello. There was Lindsey, who was hot but also a little creepy, and Darla...ditto. And there was Angel, who didn’t say much. Xander guessed you didn’t have to, when you were that big. He thought he was going to be tall one day too, because his feet were so big, but for now he was just kind of medium height. Maybe that was why he always ran his mouth too much, although he was kind of scared to talk around Spike and reveal what a big dork he was.
Angel had said something kind of funny when Spike had introduced Xander to him. His dark eyes had crawled over Xander much the same way Spike’s had, then he had looked at Spike and smirked.
“How old’s this one?” he had asked Spike, as if Xander wasn’t even there.
“I just turned sixteen,” Xander had supplied. Angel had looked at him and laughed low, until Willow had told him to ‘leave the kid alone.’
So now Xander was mostly just trying to sit out of the way and not be noticed, too much. Oz and Lindsey were playing their guitars and Lindsey’s voice was husky and perfect. Darla was in Angel’s lap, and the two were practically fornicating right there in front of everyone. No one seemed surprised.
Xander felt warm and loose from the beer they’d given him. The fire in the middle was somewhat hypnotizing, and Spike’s hand had come to rest on his knee, burning him through his jeans as he rubbed his thumb in a little circle. Xander’s body felt on high alert, and the superconsciousness of Spike’s sexy laughter and teasing voice and casual touches made him feel even more buzzed than the alcohol.
The guitars were eventually put away, and everyone (except Darla and Angel, who were still attached at the face) laughed and joked around and talked about other concerts and festivals and roadtrips. They all seemed like they had been friends for a long time, but Xander couldn’t put his finger on….
“How old are all of you?” he suddenly blurted out, and everyone turned to stare at him, the circle growing quiet. Xander wanted to melt back into the tree, to hug the tree, to become the tree, because trees didn’t say stupid things.
Darla pulled her lips off of Angel’s long enough to give him a patronizingly derisive smile. “Told you,” Angel said, and she laughed merrily before she started attacking his mouth again. Willow offered him an encouraging smile.
Spike chuckled and squeezed at his leg, so he turned towards him. He was sitting close, and was somehow even hotter than the last time Xander had looked at him, which had been a while, because he didn’t want to seem…you know, weird.
Spike didn’t seem as put off by his question as everyone else, which was a relief. “Well, I’m 24,” he murmured. Xander tried to keep from gawking at that, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. “As for everyone else, dunno…never asked.” Spike looked around at everyone speculatively. No one was looking at them anymore, the conversation having moved on. “In the neighborhood, thereabouts.” He shrugged, as though he didn’t know and didn’t really care. It seemed weird to Xander, not knowing how old your friends were.
“Let’s take a walk, Xander.” Spike got up and held out a hand to boost Xander off the ground. But then Spike didn’t drop his hand like Xander expected. When Xander tugged, Spike held fast and nodded to the tent stakes by way of explanation. “Can't have you cracking your head open, pet.” Xander blushed, because—true—and also because everyone was looking at them. Spike flipped off Faith, who was calling after them to ‘have fun.’
Spike didn’t walk like they were holding hands. He walked as though he was on a mission, and Xander was on a leash. When they finally came to a halt beside one of the fairgrounds buildings, Xander didn’t get why they were there.
“Why are we—” The floor dropped out from under the thought when Spike gently shoved him up against the brick wall and crowded into his space, so that his body was pressed lightly against Xander’s. Spike’s face was close, really close, and his eyes probed into Xander’s like they were looking for any traces of a ‘no,’ but mostly everything in Xander was screaming ‘holy shit.’ Then Spike’s face dipped in towards his and Xander stopped breathing.
Spike’s mouth was warm and soft and tasted like nicotine. As if there was so much of the stuff in his lungs that he exhaled it, even when he wasn’t smoking. Xander couldn’t believe Spike was kissing him. He opened his eyes to check. Yup, definitely Spike. Xander had thought he had maybe been hitting on him…but he’d thought it had been wishful thinking, because hello, hot man and…he was Xander. Things like this didn’t happen to him.
Spike’s hands came up to lace into the edges of Xander’s too-long hair, and Spike tipped his head to the side a bit and pressed in closer. His tongue was sliding along the seam of Xander’s mouth, licking at the corner and Xander was definitely hard now, because, holy shit. He parted his lips and Spike’s tongue slipped through, and it was cool and slick and Xander couldn’t help the little pathetic noises that were coming from his treacherous throat. His own tongue felt thick and clumsy by comparison to the ease with which Spike’s moved in his mouth.
Spike pulled back and considered Xander carefully as Xander panted for breath. Spike cocked his head to the side. “This is your first real kiss.” There was no question in his voice, but there was a little…confusion, maybe.
Xander felt himself turn bright red. God, was it that obvious? Because if it was, that was…really freakin’ embarrassing. “I…I don’t really….”
But the promising grin that Spike gave him suggested that Spike didn’t mind in the least. Which Xander found a little…odd, if he thought about it, but not at all bad. A world of good. Because maybe they could do it again.
Spike’s thumb stroked over the corner of his mouth. “’S ok, pet. Just relax, and be mindful not to choke the other person with your tongue. Pay attention to what I do.”
It was sound advice. “Um, ok.”
Spike pressed forward again and took his lips, coaxing them apart until he admitted Spike’s tongue. Xander still felt like he was strung so tight, nervous that he’d be bad at it and he’d lose the chance to do this some more, not to mention, his only friend at the festival.
Spike must have felt how tense he was, because his long-boned hands stroked soothingly down from where they were tangled in his hair, gliding over his neck and shoulders and down his arms as if he were petting a wary animal. Over and over, in long firm strokes, until Xander could feel himself melt back against the wall, and Spike melted further into him. Xander tentatively began to stroke his tongue back against Spike’s.
Spike pulled his mouth back just a hair’s breadth. He purred. “Yeah, that’s it, Xan. There’s a boy.”
They continued to kiss, and Xander participated more, liking the way it obviously turned Spike on, making him moan into Xander’s mouth. Xander’s whole body was on razor’s edge, and when Spike’s fingers glided down his side to slyly slip under the hem of his shirt, Xander jumped like he were on the wrong end of a live wire. Spike didn’t pull away this time, but his touch on the soft flesh of Xander’s side soothed him, and soon the hand was teasing around to his back. His touch there was cool and light and titillating as his mouth continued to bewitch Xander.
Before long, that hand was dipping low against the top of his jeans, into that soft space just above the part of his cheeks, and pressing Xander forward, into Spike’s erection. Xander tore his mouth away from Spike’s and his head thudded back against the rough brick as he breathed hard against the mind-numbing grind of Spike’s hips. Spike never paused, hot mouth dropping over the rim of Xander’s jaw into the softness of his throat, and Xander’s heart was racing too fast.
Spike’s mouth nuzzled against the collar that Xander had never taken off. His breath puffed hot against Xander’s skin.
“Interesting to see you wearing a dom collar.” Spike licked along the edge of it, and Xander shivered. “When you’re clearly such a perfect little bottom. For me, anyway.” He nipped, and his hips gave an emphasizing shove forward, which would have cleared things up nicely if Xander’d had any doubts about what that meant. Which he actually had, until Spike confirmed his suspicions. His face flushed, and he groaned against the image.
But when Spike reached for his belt, Xander panicked. He placed his own hands over Spike’s, stopping him.
“Wait, wait. What are you doing? I….”
Spike nuzzled into the soft spot behind his jaw, tucked under his earlobe. “Relax, pet,” he murmured with hot breath that made Xander capitulate. Hands were stroking him through his jeans, and his hips twitched towards them. “Not going to take your cherry in an alley, standing up. Just want to make you feel good, yeah?”
Well when you put it that way…. Panting, Xander nodded. Dimly he reviewed what Spike had said and realized it implied there would be cherry-taking, elsewhere. But the thought was shoved aside by the hand on his cock, and then he heard another zipper and there was soft soft flesh rubbing up against him.
“Urrgghh.” Xander’s eyes rolled back and then he pulled his head from the wall to look down between their bodies, where his cock was rubbing against one that was unfamiliar but clearly attached to Spike. Spike’s hand stroked them both, holding them together.
Spike chuckled, and Xander looked up to see Spike watching him with intensely lidded eyes. “Blushing so hard I can see you in the dark. ‘T’s delicious.” Spike’s voice was low and rumbling, and Xander felt himself blush harder.
Spike lunged forward to kiss Xander aggressively, and Xander let him, swept up by the the hot gush of sharp arousal from where Spike was thrusting them together, working them both with a fist. It was too much, the excitement of having someone else’s hand (among other things) on his cock for a change, and the lust he had for Spike, and the dangerousness of the man and the place. Xander’s body tightened up and convulsed, and he spilled hotly onto Spike’s hand.
Xander gasped in the night air in big gulps, and Spike stopped moving and kissed him in a non-pushy way. Xander could feel that Spike was still hard, and he was even more mortified than before.
“God, I’m sorry, I—”
Gentle hands stroked his scalp. “Sshhh. I like that I got you so hot.” Spike thrust against him, and Xander could confirm that yes, Spike had liked it.
Xander licked his lips, and Spike’s eyes followed the path of his tongue. “Can I…is there something I can do….”
Spike lips twisted up, smug. “So glad you asked, pet. Matter of fact—” He paused, and his finger traced along Xander’s bottom lip, dipping just inside to touch the velvety soft lining of his mouth. “I do rather fancy your pretty mouth.”
It took Xander a second, mostly because…well…guh. “Oh! Oh, well I can….” Butterflies were dancing in his stomach as he started to sink to his knees, but Spike caught his elbow and stopped his descent. He looked up at the older man, mortified that maybe he’d misunderstood.
“Not gonna make you get on your knees in this filthy place. You have a tent?”
Xander nodded. He’d put it up first thing.
Spike tucked himself back in his pants, and Xander followed suit.
“Right. Then show me.”
The boy’s tent was small, two-man, but they didn’t need a lot of room for what they were about, so that was fine. Tomorrow they’d just have to stay in Spike’s, since they’d need the stretching room, if he had any say.
Spike sat back on the sleeping bag that took up the whole tent, and Xander crouched on his knees, smiling nervously in the lantern light.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he joked.
Spike just lay back and studied Xander for a moment. Lad was uncertain of himself. Saw this as a life-altering event, which Spike supposed it was, for him. Though unlike some boys, Spike could see that this one had already known he liked men. Didn’t put up nearly as much of a fuss as the ones who didn’t know or didn’t want to know. Those were always more work, though for the rebel in Spike, the bastard, the man who couldn’t leave well enough alone, they also brought a dizzying kind of glee. To bend someone’s self-image. To be that event that forever marked two segments of a person’s life: before, and after.
He liked to think of it as his claim to immortality. He was a liaison from the closet, if you will.
Xander began to fidget under the silent attention, uncertain what to do with himself. His heart must be pounding. Didn’t know the rules or the protocol. He was a blank slate, and it made Spike just want to sink his teeth in and have a taste. Spike’s lot was always pestering him about why he did this sometimes, picked up young inexperienced boys, but this was why. This nervousness, this shyness. Later, their enthusiasm. They reminded Spike of things he’d forgotten and lost. Reminded him of a time when sex was new, as fascinating and compelling as it was terrifying. It was intoxicating and refreshing, to immerse himself in their innocence, for they were, even when they weren’t virgins. Couldn’t help but be innocent when you were that age. And when they were untouched, Spike liked to think that he did them a favor by making their first time something pleasant.
Outstanding, come to that.
Spike liked his women knowledgeable and jaded…but in boys, he couldn’t resist a fresh face. And Xander here was as fresh as they came. Never even been kissed, with his soft floppy hair and pleading puppy eyes.
“C’mere,” Spike beckoned. The boy crawled over, and Spike settled his awkward puppy-bulk over him. Xander kissed him enthusiastically, even though Spike could feel his chest rapidly expanding and deflating with anxiety. Boy had picked up kissing fairly quickly, which was promising for things to come.
When Spike began to fuck the boy’s mouth with his tongue, all the tension drained out of the slender body above him until it was acquiescent and squirming. Spike moaned and ran his hands down the healthy muscles of his back to clutch at the lad’s arse, pressing it down into him, causing Xander to whimper in the most appealing way. Xander would grow into his hands and feet eventually, and Spike reckoned he’d be big enough someday to be a brilliantly domineering top…but not before Spike had gotten inside of him to school him in just how pleasurable it could be to be penetrated. He’d meant it when he said that everything about Xander begged Spike to fuck him. Since that first moment when Spike had looked over and seen the boy gawking at him in lust and hero worship, Spike had instantly recognized that it was his lucky day.
Spike’s hands slid from that lush ass to gather the material of Xander’s shirt upward. “Let’s get you out of this shirt, eh, little one?”
Xander made a noise in his throat and started to sit up, but first Spike removed the piece of fetish wear that the boy had taken for a fashion statement. His fingers caressed the nape of Xander’s neck as he unbuckled it, and the boy shivered delicately. No, a dom collar clearly had no place between them. Spike, for one, didn’t need a visual cue to know who was in control here.
Spike set the collar aside and Xander sat up, straddling his hips, to strip his shirt over his head. Spike practically purred in approval of the position, as well as the visual. Xander’s torso was lean and lightly muscled, as many boys’ were, before they discovered beer.
Thrusting upward a tick, Spike’s hands slid up Xander’s sides, thumbs erring northward until they could tease at the dusky brown nipples. The rib cage in his hands expanded and contracted with a slow, shaky breath.
“Grind against me,” Spike suggested, and immediately the boy’s hips did just that. Spike’s cock was butting against the part of Xander’s ass through two pair of jeans, and the friction of the rough material against his sensitized skin was titillatingly painful. His palms slid up and down on the smooth skin of the boy’s chest, encouraging the movement and stimulating his hardening nipples. Xander’s eyes were slightly glazed over and his lips were parted wetly.
Spike wanted to fuck him so badly he could taste it.
Too bad he couldn’t, yet. Whole trick of this business was not to push them too far, too fast. Xander was only this relaxed because he expected that Spike wanted a blowjob, something he was nervous about but willing to do, to please Spike. And probably because he had fantasized about it himself, though that was probably secondary in his mind at this point. Spike had a feeling that pushing things any further just now would send him bolting, regardless of the fact that this was his own tent.
Spike trailed one teasing finger down the naked torso until it bumped over the waistband of the jeans that were straining with a renewed erection. The marvels of youth. Xander’s breath quickened as his eyes slid shut.
“So,” Spike began in a low voice that made the boy’s eyes pop open. “Want to do this with the lamp on or off?”
A blush graced Xander’s cheeks as his eyes darted to the light source and back. “Does it matter?”
“Only if you care whether the people walkin’ by see a silhouette of your head bobbin’ in my lap.” When fresh color flared up the boy’s face, Spike refrained from mentioning that people would probably hear them anyway—because tent walls were thin, and Spike was loud. And had no shame.
“Oh. Well then, uh. Off.” Spike smiled up at him lazily for a long moment, making the kid shift restlessly against Spike’s hard-on, before reaching over and clicking the lever to plunge them into darkness.
There was still enough light outside the tent that Xander was backlit above him, but Spike was unable to properly see the color on his cheeks, the eager part of his lips, the excited dilation of his pupils. He would have preferred to leave the light on, but he’d anticipated long before the question had been asked that the boy would be more comfortable under the cover of darkness. Important to make him comfortable, for the sake of progress, but also, to make this a pleasant memory for Xander. To reduce the terror that must be boiling in his gut at the prospect of sucking off another man. Important too for Spike to ask the question, give the boy a choice, light or dark, even if he already knew what that choice would be. Otherwise, the lad may have nervously interpreted the gesture as an indicator that Spike thought him unattractive or would rather imagine someone else.
And Spike’s mates said he couldn’t strategize.
Spike pulled Xander down by the neck until his torso lay flush against his own. Xander breathed in quick nervous bursts against Spike’s mouth before Spike leaned up and grasped his lips, pulling him back down against the ground. One hand stroked the smooth cheek, soothing the ragged nerves until his breath calmed slightly. Spike nibbled at his mouth.
Spike imagined that the boy was blushing again. More blood throbbed to his cock.
“Might be nice, yeah,” he answered, not unkindly. “Whenever you’re ready.”
There was a sharp bark of laughter above him. “Whenever I’m ready. That’s—” He laughed again. The boy sounded like he was near panicking, but bit down on what promised to be nervous babble.
Then Spike said something which pained him—literally, as hard as he was—but which was necessary.
“Don’t have to do this, you know.”
A murmured reassurance that Xander had an out. Luckily, the phrase did what it was designed to do, and the boy didn’t take him up on the offer. Spike was going to be crippled for life if he didn’t have those pink lips wrapped around his cock soon.
Xander took a deep breath, but then the babble he’d dammed up earlier burst forth. “No, I want to, I just…I’ve never done anything like…well I guess you know that, since you know I’ve never kissed anyone before. Although I could be like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and give head all the time, but never kiss on the mouth. Out of principle. Oh God—not that I watch Pretty Woman. Much. Or give head. But uh—” There was a pause, and Spike could practically hear Xander scrambling mentally to recover from the embarrassing confession. “Can we just forget I said any of that?” he finished weakly.
Spike smirked in the darkness, charmed by the boy’s convoluted train of thought. “It’s a deal, mate. Now get down there and suck my cock like a good little whore.”
There was utter silence. Xander’s body was stiff and shocked above him.
“Kidding,” Spike said dryly, and grinned when Xander burst into relieved laughter. It was a cleaner, happier sound than his earlier hyena-like outburst, and Spike smiled to himself as he felt the tension go out of the boy.
Xander’s laughter wound down until he was just sitting atop Spike, sucking in deep droughts of air. Soon he shifted, and then knee-walked backwards silently, until he was kneeling between Spike’s legs. He fumbled with the button and zipper at Spike’s crotch, and Spike swallowed and closed his eyes, willing himself to be patient. His pants were pushed down his thighs, and then his cock was just bobbing freely in the air.
There was a long moment of stillness, in which he imagined that Xander was talking himself up to his task, with quite a few side trips into hysterical non-sequitors, if his earlier outburst was any indicator. Then a tentative hand closed around his cock, and squeezed a little. Spike shifted restlessly and made an encouraging sound deep in his throat.
The boy’s body weight shifted, and then a nervous tongue caressed the underside his head, wriggling against the sensitive skin, lips brushing his head and shaft.
The long moan was genuine, torn from his throat by razor’s edge anticipation and pleasure. “Ohh pet, that’s—” He panted, and swallowed the saliva pooling at the back of his throat. “Put your mouth around it,” he instructed.
Soft lips wrapped around his cock, anchoring themselves under the edge of his head, and a light tongue danced across his flesh. Spike’s body bowed up carefully, so turned on by everything that had led up to this moment that his skin was humming, now that it was here.
Unexpectedly, Xander applied a light amount of suction, and Spike grunted and thrust up further into Xander’s mouth on instinct. Caught by surprise, the boy made a small sound of distress and scraped Spike with his teeth.
“Sorry,” Spike mumbled breathlessly. Xander hummed an assent that made Spike want to crawl up the wall, and took his cue from Spike’s pelvis, sliding further down his shaft. Breathing heavily, Spike rubbed teasing fingers over his own nipple.
“That’s brilliant, Xan,” Spike praised as Xander withdrew and sank back onto him. All of Spike’s thoughts were bathed in wet heat. Xander’s tongue swept skittishly against his skin as his mouth eased back and forth. “Feels so good.” Spike’s body writhed under Xander’s mouth. He fought the instinct to thrust.
Xander took him too deep and choked a little, scaring himself.
“Careful,” Spike soothed as Xander sat up, no doubt working his throat against the burn. “Way you were going was fine, no need to take too much. Here, use your hand too, at the base. That way I get to feel you all over.”
Xander nodded in the dark, a mass of vague gray tones, and bent to apply this new advice. Spike’s breathing grew harsher and he slipped one hand into the boy’s soft thick hair. Xander stiffened slightly until he realized that Spike intended to do nothing other than hold on.
Spike’s hips twitched with the need to thrust. “Faster,” he begged. The urgency of his impending orgasm clutched at him. “Massage my sack,” he managed, and when a clumsy, warm hand clasped him, squeezing and rubbing and tugging, Spike shuddered violently.
“Fuck, Xander. Coming,” he warned, just before he shot into the boy’s mouth. Xander gagged in surprise before swallowing, but released Spike prematurely to spurt all over his shirt and belly.
After he came down, Spike stripped off his soiled shirt and used it to mop the rest of the come off his belly. Xander was awkward and stiff, sitting before him.
Spike shifted up on his knees and wrapped himself around the boy. “That was bloody brilliant,” he said sincerely, because it was, for a first try, and Xander beamed so brightly that it was visible even in the dark. Spike kissed him gratefully, and then closed one seeking hand over the bulge in the boy’s jeans.
“Lay back,” Spike nudged. He was more than ready to be unconscious, but this wouldn’t take long. One good turn, and all that rot. He tongued the boy’s navel as he released him from his pants, and Xander squirmed enough to be helpful in getting the waistband of his jeans and underwear down past his hips.
Spike nipped sharply at the tender skin just above the dark wiry curls, and Xander whimpered pleasantly. When Spike licked up his cock in one long stripe, Xander’s body seized upward with excitement.
In fact, it took only a few bobs and Spike’s firm fingers running against the seam of the boy’s ass before he came. Spike sank down deep on the trembling body, swallowing the head of the boy’s cock into his throat, and Xander cried out high and grasped at the bedding as he emptied himself into Spike’s gut.
Spike pulled back when the boy was done, licking his lips clean. He tugged up Xander’s pants and his own, and collapsed onto his stomach, yanking the pillow half out from under the shaggy head for a place to lay his own, as the boy was still reeling from orgasm. He let his eyes drift closed.
And sighed when the lad started to speak. “Wow. Um, thanks. I mean, I’m sure that was a lot better than mine. But practice makes perfect, right?” He backpeddled in panic of offense. “Not that I think you’ve had a lot of practice! Well, maybe you have, but I’m not saying that—”
“Xander,” Spike interrupted wearily.
Spike threw an arm over the boy’s waist. It was more possessive than affectionate, but it would reassure him. “Go to sleep, yeah?”
There was a silence, with the elastic stomach rising and falling peacefully against the crook of his elbow. “Ok. Yeah. I can do that.”
Spike was asleep before the boy had the opportunity to relax beneath his arm.