Book 1 in the Mischief and Porn: the Journals of Xander Harris series
Siring by Spike
Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night- Go Screaming
One of my favorite movies is "Back to School" with Rodney Dangerfield. That's how I learned about that Dylan Thomas poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night." I first watched it when I was 11, and I thought it was a good idea. So I vowed that I, one Xander Harris, would fight death. This became especially relevant once I met the Buffster and figured I'd be killed by vamps. So I was determined that if the bloodsuckers ever got me, I'd take out as many as I could.
I was wrong about that. After the Hellmouth closed and I returned from Africa (which, by the way, is REALLY FUCKING HOT), I settled into the mentor/teacher/repairman role at the new Watcher's Council. I didn't patrol anymore, so I figured I'd die of old age, shaking my fist at hooligan kids and gumming my steak. I was wrong about that, too. Last fall, I started getting pains in my stomach and felt cold all the time. I figured it was an ulcer induced by shepherding a teenage horde of Slayers. I was totally wrong about that that too. It was stomach cancer that spread everywhere before I got it check out. I ended up only having two months left. I lost weight quickly, turning into Skele-Boy in just a couple of weeks.
Willow started looking up spells like crazy and Buffy started beating up anything that moved, including human criminals. They had to cope somehow, the both of them so used to fixing things and saving me. Giles and Dawn spent the most time with me, talking about everything and nothing, Giles even going far enough to talk about his Ripper years to us, including a story involving a solstice, Ethan Rayne, and fertility statue spell. Andrew would come by my room and watch Star Trek, Star Wars, and every sci-fi DVD he could get. But every night, the Sunnydale gang got together and talked, ate take-out, and watched movies. Spike and Angel even came to London to say goodbye, having finally finished arranging things in LA.
That was when Willow got her bright idea and Giles had agreed to the plan. A spell and a tattoo using india ink mixed with Buffy and Willow's blood would anchor my soul. Angel had even volunteered to be guinea pig, getting the tattoo, then getting chained to a bed. Buffy never called the "Angelus-is-back" red alert, so apparently the soul stuck. And they didn't leave the room for a day. The tattoo worked, so I got it. Then when I was ready, I'd be gently drained and turned, a quiet, peaceful, death that didn't involve becoming thinner and screaming in pain as my body fell apart. But I messed up my death too.
Last month I sat on an English beach, watching the sunset. Once the sky was dark enough, Spike and Angel emerged from the car. I'd immediately shot down Angel as a sire, asking Spike instead. To my surprise, Spike had readily agreed without Dawn or Buffy begging him. He said he owed me after I'd put up with him as roomie and having shagged Anya. So there I was, sitting on a blanket, surrounded by Buffy, Wills, Giles, Dawn, Andrew and Angel. Spike sat down in front of me, pulling my jacket and blankets tighter around my shoulders. I was always so cold. Then he surprised me, running his hand gently down my cheek.
"Ready, Xander?" he'd whispered, smiling gently at me.
"Sure am... Sire." I weakly snickered at the last word, eliciting giggles from my friends.
"Watch it, Donut Boy, I'll be your sire; you'll have to treat me with respect."
Spike pulled me onto his lap so I was straddling him. I remember thinking "Well hello, Spike Junior," as I settled against his groin. Spike must have felt me tense up (cuz you know, I was so not gay), because he started rubbing my back, telling me to relax. He lowered his head and nudged the blanket aside, nuzzling my neck. He dragged his tongue against my pulse before nibbling and sucking on it. It felt good and I moaned. I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin; behind him, I could see the gang shifting around uncomfortably. I gasped as his teeth broke the skin. It hurt at first, but as he sucked my blood out, my mind drifted to the "repress" section of my brain. Strange images floated to the surface, memories of how Spike looked shirtless, of his grace while fighting, and his ass in general. I'd noticed guys in high school, but then I fell for Anya. Then between Africa and Slayer duty, I hadn't done much with either sex other than looking.
But cradled in Spike's arms, his lips at my throat, our groins pushed together, I felt that hidden desire surfacing again. As I started getting hard, Spike chuckled. He pulled away from my neck and started nibbling on my ear. "Knew it, Xander. And now you're mine."
Then he looked in my eyes and said something that took my dick from interested to harder than a rock. "Can't wait to fuck you, Childe. Make you scream." I heard a collective gasp and looked up as Spike returned to my neck. I'd never seen Willow's eyes so wide before- never. Buffy looked shocked, but amused, and Giles was polishing his glasses so hard he looked like he was going to break them. Andrew looked like he was going to start taking notes, while Angel looked a bit green. And Dawn- Dawn just had that lecherous look on her face that she got watching Brad Pitt shirtless in "Fight Club." At this point, I started getting really lightheaded. Between the blood leaving my throat and going to my dick, there wasn't much in my brain. I remember one of Spike's hands going between us and opening our pants, I remember weakly trying to thrust my hips against his, and I remember Buffy squeaking before covering Dawn's eyes. He reached down, holding our cocks together with one hand, pumping us both as he drained me.
So in the end, I didn't go gentle into that good night; I came screaming.
2: Ain't No Party Like a Costume Party
Prompt:This prompt is from babysquid and is simply "codpiece."
Summary: Several months after being turned by Spike, Xander and his Sire meet up with their friends. Xander's POV
I stared at Angel's crotch in wonder. It was like a car wreck and I couldn't look away. After
"See something you don't like?" I turned around and saw a grinning Willow. She'd dressed as Indiana Jones, complete with leather jacket, hat, whip, and everything. She looked really good as Indy, and Dawnie was dressed in Willie Scott's red dress from "The Temple of Doom." After the junior-high drama that was Kennedy and Willow's relationship, my favorite witch decided to take a break from the ladies and instead was focusing on teaching young witches the control Willow had learned almost too late.
"Angel's crotch." Dawn busted out laughing while Wills just shook her head.
"Hmm . . . maybe you should have picked him to be your Sire,"
"Funny, Wills, real funny. No, I was just thinking, Angel and Buffy always say that they're going 'patrolling' but then someone always ends up catching them making with the smoochies and the smoochies don't always happen on the lips, either."
"Well, it makes me wonder just how many species of demons are located in Angel's underpants."
"Doesn't wear 'em."
"Fine, underpants, pants, boxers, briefs, crotch whatever!" I continued. "I just want to know if there's like, a Hellmouth down there." We all turned and looked at Angel and Buffy again, who had commenced with the kissing.
"I'm guessing an active Hellmouth, one that Buffy is determined to guard 24/7," Dawn said, eying the couple with a Watcher-in-training's skill.
Spike chuckled. "I just can't believe she got him into that dress. Never would have guessed he'd get into a dress, let alone a pink one. Although he doesn't look too bad, really. You know, aside from the caveman brow."
"She probably just bribed him with lots of sex," Dawn theorized.
"Ew, God, Dawnie, no!" I started screamed, having one of those full-body shudders. "I didn't need to know that! Ew, I need brainsoap!"
"What? We all know that they're playing 'chase the undead mongoose,í" she shot back, rolling her eyes. God, that girl, always with the eye-rolling! She'll probably be the first Watcher to have more attitude than the Slayer. (Oh, and speaking of eyes, I have two now! One night on patrol, a real patrol, not a Buffy/Angel smoochie patrol, Spike ripped out this vampire's eye and made me put it in my socket. My undeadness took the eye and made it mine. It was creepy, gross, and pretty damn cool. There's a chapter devoted to my new eye in the Council records now.)
Dawn kept talking. "I mean, it's not like he lost his soul drinking tea and eating biscuits."
"He lost it eating something else." I could hear the smirk is Spike's voice.
I groaned and gave up. Apparently my Sire and so-called friends weren't going to be happy until I got in some good time with a wire-brush and brainsoap.
"Good Lord, is that Angel in a dress?" We turned around and saw Giles, staring at Buffy and Angel in abject horror. He'd lost a bet to the supposedly-reformed Ethan Rayne so Giles was dressed as Aquaman.
"So, Seaman, where's your roomie?" Spike snickered. No one was precisely certain as to the exact nature of Giles' relationship with Ethan. (One of the Slayers, a New Jersey graduate of MIT, had started a betting pool. Buffy was betting on 3 more months before Giles and Ethan started playing butt pirates. I was betting one more month, while Dawnie was maintaining that they'd already started up with the butt piracy.)
"He's in the corner dressed as Death," Giles answered with a sigh. He really didn't seem happy as Aquaman, but then again, any character that can called "seaman," and thus "semen," isn't good times.
"Oh, I see him." Dawn frowned and continued. "Is it just me or is Faith waay too interested in his stick?"
Giles' head snapped up, eyes turning icy. "She's what?" he asked, voice cold.
I snorted. Platonic relationship my ass.
"She's looking at his sickle, you know, the sharp thing he's holding." Dawn explained with a sigh. "Don't worry, she's not going to hit on him. Why would she hit on him? She's too busy boinking Andrew."
Willow's mouth dropped open, Giles sputtered, and Dawn, Spike and I snickered. I don't really know how Dawn had found out about Faith and Andrew's relationship, but Spike and I had smelled it from a mile away. (After that discovery and Buffy and Angel's continual "patrolling," we'd started wearing cologne to block out their combined scents, because ew.) We all turned and watched Faith talking with Ethan.
"That can't be right. That seems too...." Giles started.
"Bizarre, unnatural, unholy, yucky?"
"All of the above," Giles murmured, watching Andrew and Faith with a look akin to horror. (Yeah, thatís right, I said "akin." Hanging out with Watchers and having a Sire that's read nearly every great English work of fiction helps you learn big words.)
"Makes perfect sense to me," Spike said. "She's one dominant, tough chick, always needs to be in control. And Andrew is a total sub. He's a nice little dork, perfect for keeping her light, happy, and secure in the knowledge that she's unreservedly adored. 'Sides, they must be shagging. How else do you think he got her into that Princess Leia metal bikini?"
"Probably in the same way Xander forced you into that Flash costume," Giles snickered.
"Oi! I'll have you know I've been a Flash fan for decades."
"Really? 'Cuz you know, I would have figured you for a Batman type what with the black and kick-assness,"
"Nah, broods too much. Always reminded me of Peaches."
At this point I became Angry Bat-Xan. "Oh great, now I'll never wear this costume again! I do not want to be Bat-Angel, for Christssake!" I yelled. I took off for the snack table, cape billowing. At the table, I grabbed a brownie and scarfed it down. Behind me, I could still hear them talking.
"I'm actually surprised you guys are the Flash and Batman. I would have figured you guys would have done costumes that were a couple or something," Dawn said.
Spike snorted. "We did."
"What? They're not a couple, Spike,"
"You ever seen that cartoon? Justice League?"
"Oh come on, you know they are," Spike shot back.
Dawn apparently agreed. "I guess it makes sense. They're always fighting like you and Xander did. Well, do."
Smiling, I turned and walked through the diningroom and into the kitchen. I was only a couple of months old at the time, so I was still developing. I was hungry all the time, mostly for blood although I did (and still do) indulge in the occasional Hostess snack food. I walked over to the small fridge reserved for souled vampires. I grabbed a bag of human from it and put it in my "Boondocks" mug. As I started the microwave, Spike walked into the kitchen.
"You're not really mad at me, are you luv?" He grabbed my waist, turned me around and pressed my back against the counter, trapping me between a rock and hard . . . piece.
"Yes, I am," I said, pouting. Spike pouted back at me. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. Batman is my favorite superhero, and now I'll always think of Angel when I think of him."
"Well don't. There's no way in any dimension that Angel would look anywhere as good as you in this," he purred, leaning up to kiss my chin. As soon at the microwave dinged, Spike grabbed my mug and handed it to me. I drank it quickly, and the whole time, he stared into my eyes. (And is it wrong that looking in his eyes can get me hard?)
"I'm so glad you got the cartoon Batman costume and not the movie Batman costume," he said, slipping his fingers up under my top. Slowly, he ran his fingers over my skin. It always feels so good when he touches me.
"Oh really? Why is that?" I asked, staring down into his eyes. The red of his costume really set off the blue of his eyes. I knew it was naughty time as he curled his tongue behind his top teeth. He used his other hand and grabbed my dick through my costume.
"No codpiece to get in the way."
I lowered my head and kissed him. You'd think that kissing him all the time would get boring after a while, but it really doesn't. I moaned as he started massaging my cock through the soft fabric. Man, he's got talented fingers. Stepping away from me, he reached around my neck and unhooked my cape. Tossing it over his shoulder, he shot his lascivious smirk #6. (Just for your information, I've learned that each smirk means a different thing. #1 indicates severe taunting head, usually sexual in nature and aimed not at me. #2 means naughty comments to follow, #3 equals petting and touching. #4 is nice; it means a great make out session involving heavy petting, and #5 means oral sex. #6 means a quickie, and is my favorite. Apparently it's Spike's favorite too.)
As my cape fluttered to the ground, he pulled my head down for a searing, bone-melting, cock-hardening, brain-'sploding kiss. I'm pretty sure we both started moaning as we rubbed against each other, biting each others lips as the kiss intensified. Pulling back, his eyes flashed yellow (hah, the Flash's eyes flashed!) as he spoke.
"Turn around, Childe." Ohhh god, and that took me from rock hard to adamantium hard. (I don't know if this holds true to other vampires, but god, that whole Sire/Childe dynamic is a total turn on. I wonder if itís a general vampire kink, or is it just me?)
He ran his hand down my back, tracing my muscles. I'd gotten pretty muscley in the past months. While one hand kept stroking my cock, the other grabbed my ass. He pressed his hand between my ass cheeks and pushed against my butt plug so it massaged my prostate. (Yes, I have a butt plug you pervs! Spike refuses to hurt me even though I heal fast now, so he made me get one so I'd always be ready for Spike Jr. During that shopping trip, I learned that vampires can indeed blush.) Spike moved his hands away and shoved his pants/tights down past his hips, chuckling when I whimpered in a manly fashion. He pressed his body against mine. "Lean forward, hands flat on the counter," he growled. (Did I mention I have a Spike-growl kink too?)
He jerked down my stretchy Bat-pants and rubbed Spike Jr. against my ass. His cool fingers reached into my cleft and grasped the plug, wriggling it around until I was a whimpering puddle of Xander Goo™. Finally, he pulled the plug out and drove himself into me. Growling (did I mention my growl-love?), he hammered his cock into me. I don't really remember what I was saying, but it was something along the lines of "PleaseSirefasterharderohGodI'mgoingtodi
He reached up and pulled the collar of my shirt down, exposing the side of my neck. With the other hand, he ripped my mask off. He leaned forward and drove his fangs into my neck. I screamed and came, every muscle in my body clenching in pleasure. His cock pounded into me one more time before he came, tearing his fangs out of me and roaring.
As we calmed down, we became aware of a human presence in the room. We knew that smell and giggle: Dawn. We looked toward the door, where a smirking Dawn stood, watching us from behind the partially-closed kitchen door. (I'm pretty sure she was aroused, but as previously stated, I'd taken to drowning out my sense of smell unless I was patrolling. And I don't really want to think about Dawn being aroused either, because again, ew.)
"Dawn!" Dawn spun around as Buffy called for her. She quickly closed the door before speaking.
"Hey Buff, whatís up?"
"Costume competition time. Where are Spike and Xander?"
"In the kitchen. Busy."
"Busy with what?"
I could practically hear the smirk in Dawnís reply. "Patrolling."
Originally, Giles was dressed as Harry Potter. But since I decided to do a crossover with HP, I went back to change his costume. Anyways, I'm just letting you know so you don't think you've gone crazy if you remember Giles being dressed as Harry.
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