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Book 2 in the Mischief and Porn: the Journals of Xander Harris series
Fandom: BtVS/Harry Potter. |
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Ride the Broom
by
Vinniebatman
Part One
It was a dark and stormy night, the kind that was all dark and stormy. With Spike as my Sire, things were getting kinda weird around Watcher HQ. And by weird I mean dangerous. Because Spike and I have become public enemy number one. (Or is it public enemies numbers one and two, or are we considered one entity? Have to check on that.) And it all happened when we discovered what I liked to call the "Super Sekrit Wizards Club," a hidden society of magic users. Actually, we didn't so much discover it as finally notice the giant, magically cloaked area of Diagon Ally. We also found out about the floo network, which allows you to travel between fire places. Andrew discovered the danger in using floo powder if you say "diagonally" instead of "Diagon Alley." He ended up in Creepy-Town and got molested by some old hag. He spent the next two days in his room muttering "the warts, the warts," before Faith got pissed and used her patented "Faith LeHane Angry Sex," cure.
Anyways, back to the dangerous. See, while in Diagon Alley, Spike and I discovered the greatest place on Earth, a joke shop called "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." God, that place is awesome! The toys, the gags, the pranks! (Okay, speaking of toys, I will have to revise my opinion; the actual greatest place on Earth is this sex shop we found in London, but moving on.) We only discovered the store a week ago, and since that time, the pranks we have pulled are mighty! The best ones were when we turned Angel into a Canary, made Buffy puke during a meeting with the Prime Minister, and gave Faith a Ton-Tongue Toffee. God, the only thing funnier than making someone lisp and mumble around their massively oversized tongue is when that person is mumbling and lisping with a Boston accent.
So Willow (who we decided not to prank beyond dying her skin frog-green because she is mighty and could squish us like bugs) told us to take off before we got killed by an angry horde of Slayers. And we did. We've decided to complete my road trip (with a few stops in the UK), so a couple days ago we rented a car and drove from London to Scotland. Willow needed us to go to Scotland to meet some old lady and give her some magic jewelry we found in the Council's Super Sekrit Vault in Wales. We don't need it and apparently it's kind of important. We figured we can drop off the car at an airport and take a night flight from the UK to the States. Over those few days, Spike had made it his personal mission to cause as much damage to the car as possible. (Well, actually, he's made nailing me in as many different cities and states his personal mission. I know because he said so. Causing damage to the rental is just his short-term goal.)
As our craptacular chariot wound its way through the bonny hills of Scotland, we came upon a large, wrought iron gate, which was the only visible opening in a tall, stone fence. Rolling hills and a lake were visible beyond the gate. And as soon as we got within five feet, the car died.
"What the fuck is wrong with this piece of shite?" Spike growled. (Ahh, there is nothing better than Spike's growl. Except his eyes. Oh, and his mouth. And his penis is really good, too . . . moving on.) I frowned at him.
"You mean aside from that ditch you drove though and the log you ran over while chasing that herd of sheep for a mile over rough country?" Spike turned and glared at me. It was his "you suck and if I didn't fancy your arse so much, I'd totally kick you out of the car" glare. (I didn't really care, though, because he's not really mad at me unless he gives me his "Bad Childe! No Sire-sex for you" glare. Which I hate, because then it means I have to go for like, twelve hours without sex. Twelve hours! But moving on . . . )
Spike shrugged. "I hate sheep. Creep me out."
"I can see that," I agreed. "They're so . . . smug. You know, I think Willow said that the school is protected by magic so electronic stuff doesn't work."
"Stupid new cars. More computer than machine nowadays," Spike pouted. (He's so cute when he pouts. Just don't tell him I said that. Not that you can, I mean, you're a journal . . . moving on.)
"Well let's just get inside, okay? I'm kind of hungry and I'm tired of having sex in the car. It's too small!" I whined, giving him my puppy dog eyes. (I know I've mentioned it before, but I really dig having two eyes again. Depth perception is awesome!) Spike rolled his eyes, but reached into the back seat and grabbed our umbrella, big enough for us to share as long as we held hands. (Yeah, I know I'm a sap.) As we neared the gate, a feeling of dark foreboding rose in me. Spike's arm around my waist tensed and I knew he felt it too. Willow told us we were expected, but this place practically screamed "turn and run!" Then the gate opened, and the feeling of fear lifted like a curtain. A castle appeared, one that hadn't been there when the gate was closed. It was looked old and creepy, but it also looked pretty cool. We relaxed and felt pretty calm. Until a giant showed up.
Now when I say giant, I don't mean some super-tall guy like that Chinese basketball player. I mean a real giant, with the tallness and a beard.
"'Allo, name's Hagrid. Professor McGonagall asked me ta fetch ya," he said, smiling. He turned and walked away, waving us after him. He was so friendly and well, jolly, that we didn't really consider not following him. Well, I just started in surprise while Spike followed, pulling me along. We followed him while he talked about the lake, its squid, and something called a quidditch pitch; I dunno what he talked about. I was still staring in surprise. I mean, he was really a giant!
"Damn, I need to get some of those magic Wheaties," I muttered. Spike snorted.
"What for, pet?"
I shrugged. "Buffy. The only Slayers shorter than her are the preteens. She'd dig the magic Wheaties, maybe even enough to not want to kill us any more."
Eventually the path ended as we reached the castle. As Hagrid entered the building, while Spike and I smacked into the magical barrier.
"Oi! Hagrid!" The giant stopped and turned toward us, a bright grin on his face.
"Yes?"
"You need to invite us in, mate. Didn't McGonagall tell ya?" Spike asked. At this point I wasn't really watching the giant; I was too busy staring at the entrance hall. It was huge and I started to wish I'd gone to school there.
"Oh, tha's right; yer vampires. Forgot about it," he smiled.
"Vampires? Since when do we invite them into the school?" sneered a voice. Looking over, a thin, creepy, smelly, greasy looking guy with a cat oozed out of the shadows. And he smelled, did I mention that? He smelled like old clothing that wasn't dirty, but had gone unwashed for too long and bore the scents of cleaning products and sweat. To a vampire, it's pretty strong and nasty.
"The Headmistress invited them, Argus, an' I'm not about to go 'gainst 'er wishes," Hagrid drawled. Straightening his posture, the giant proudly declared: "I, Rubeus Hagrid, invite you into Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Spike and I grinned at each other. Hagrid definitely wasn't the most educated guy, but he was nice and took his job seriously. We entered the hall and followed him. He led us through two doors to a room filled with screaming young children. It was kind of wiggy for me. I'd been a vampire for almost a year, but sometimes (mostly when I was really tired and hungry), being around so many beating hearts would make me all growly. So of course I started getting growly until a flash of lighting drew my attention to the ceiling. Barely visible amid the clouds and falling rain were the arches and supports for the roof. Judging by the fact that it was dry inside, I figured that the ceiling was just somehow showing the sky outside, but either way it was pretty damn cool.
"Holy shit, Spike! This is way better than those glowing stars I had on my ceiling back in Sunnyhell!" I heard Spike chuckle next to me. Looking down and around, I realized that every student was staring at me. "Uh, hi!" I said, waving. The students just gawked at us, probably all crushing on Spike.
"Good evening, gentlemen." A female voice with a faint Scottish brogue grabbed our attention. We looked to what I guessed was the professor's table (you know, since it was filled with older people) where an older woman stood. We headed toward the table and moved toward the two empty seats between the older woman and a sneering man in black robes with black hair. Once seated, the Scottish woman, wearing green robes and square glasses, smiled and extended her hand.
"Hello, I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall," she offered.
"Xander Harris," I returned, shaking her hand. Spike was already sprawled out in his seat, ignoring all the stares of the students. "And this is Spike."
"I'm well aware of whom you are; I don't suppose you'd be willing to do a guest lecture in our 'Defense Against the Dark Arts,' class?" I looked at my Sire and he shrugged.
"Why not?" he drawled. "Always enjoy corrupting young minds."
"Excellent. Now, I believe you have something for us, don't you?" she hinted, using an authoritative tone that made me feel like I was a student. Spike tossed a package from inside his jacket onto the table.
McGonagall then introduced us to the other teachers. Spike and I immediately pegged the werewolf, who taught the Dark Arts class. The Headmistress must have told the professor's we'd be visiting, because the werewolf didn't seem the least bit surprised or bothered by our presence. She must have also told the kitchen staff too, because a small elf came out and brought us mugs of pigs blood, flavored with otter. (It was pretty damn good. I should have asked for the recipe or otter/pig ratio or whatever.) The mugs were also magiced to always stayed full. During the meal, I watched the students as they watched us warily. At one point, the elf that had served us popped (literally popped, here one second, there the next) over to the red table and started talking to a boy in glasses. The students next to him, a bushy-haired brunette and beefy redhead turned to look at us. Their eyes held a wary curiosity, as though they expected anything new to bad. The group then stared at Spike and me, suddenly suspicious. I figured that they'd brilliantly deduced (Journal, note the sarcasm) that Spike and I were vamps. Looking away, I scanned the other tables. A head of white-blonde hair attracted my attention. At a table under a green banner, sat a young man that looked like, well, Spike.
"Hey Spike, it's a mini you!" I joked, smiling. He followed my gaze before making a dismissive snort.
"Eh, he's not as cute as me." I turned to him. His face bore his customary "I Rock!" smirk, but his eyes were affectionate.
Seeing his eyes like that sent my mind spinning. I like it when he looks so relaxed, so comfortable with me. But sometimes he closes himself off around me, and I hate it. It makes my demon want to curl up and die, viewing his hesitance as rejection. And the fact that he doesn't trust me, Xander, hurt. In all honesty, my attraction to Spike started earlier than I'd like to admit. It started in some unconcious part of my mind, back in Sunnydale. Before, I was always so jealous. I knew he was an evil bloodsucker, but he was always so confident and attractive, a great fighter. I wanted to be like that. And of course Spike oozes sex appeal; I may not have wanted him at the time, but I was always aware of how fucking beautiful he was. I just didn't really think about it when I was human.
But when you get turned, all those little hang ups and fears disappear. I mean, I'm still nervous about what people think about me, but now I just don't feel like I need to hide things about myself. Spike said he'd turned me because he felt he owed it to us, to the Scoobies. But one night he'd let it slip that he'd always found me attractive. (Actually, the exact phrasing was "God, pet, always knew you'd feel like this. Always knew how good you'd look underneath me, writhing and begging for my cock" . . . Wow, that's a really nice memory . . . moving on). Knowing that he'd wanted me before all of this happened... it changed something.
I'd already started to learn what kind of a person he is; he put up with my jokes, would sit with me through a science-fiction movie, and hold me when my demon gets too close to the surface and I started to freak out. I started feeling something like what I’d only felt for Anya, a love that I couldn’t fully describe, a comfort and need. Over the months that followed his revelation, I somehow fell in love with him. It wasn't just because of the Sire bond. Childer look up to their Sire as the center of their world. There's that love, and there's lust, a lot of it. But there are all these parts that I love about him, little quirks and oddities.
But he still thought of me as an attractive Childe. And it's not like he was ugly and would have trouble getting someone into his bed. At some point, he'd find someone more attractive than me. I knew that this was never some love match; he'd still done it as a favor for all of us, not just me. And since I'd fallen in love with him, it started killing me to know that. Because some day, he'd tire of me tagging along, of sleeping only with me (I can't help that I take up all his time! My libido is worse than it was when I was sixteen!) and he'll move on.
Blinking away my thoughts, I smiled at him.
"No one's as hot as you, Sire," I whispered, letting the desire I felt flash my eyes to yellow. Spike growled and his eyes flashed back at me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the werewolf lift his head and sniff before smothering a grin. The black-haired man, introduced as Snape, sneered and began muttering under his breath. I grinned at Spike before returning my attention to my mug. Eventually the students began to leave the dining hall, followed by the teachers. The werewolf, Remus Lupin, led us out of the dining room.
"The house elves brought your belongings up and put your car in storage," he said, leading us out of the hall. Spike and I tensed as we exited the dining hall. We could hear three heart beats in the entry hall, but couldn't see anyone aside from the Professor. Spike followed Lupin, pretending not to have noticed anything. I followed Spike's lead, acting like nothing was out of the usual as we headed up the stairs.
"So, were you born wolfy?" Spike asked. (Tact? What is this word you speak of?)
"Um, no. I was bitten as a child," Lupin said softly.
"Really, wouldn't have thought so with your name," Spike muttered as we turned a corner at the top of the stairs. At the end of the hall we climbed another flight of stairs.
"I know, it is a bit of cruel irony," Lupin replied with a wry smile. "My family descends from an old wizarding line whose symbol was the wolf."
"Wow, sucks for your team. So how good are you at controlling the wolf? Do you still need to be locked up on the full moon?" I asked. Remus stopped in the middle of a hallway and looked at me before walking again.
"Of course I do. I wouldn't want to injure someone," he said, mystified. "I've heard of some wolves who, with the use of Wolfsbane potion, can calm their wolves during the full moon, but not control it. The potion merely helps me control my baser instincts, but not totally."
"I should give you my friend Oz's cell number or address or whatever it is you wizards use. He can control his wolf, even prevent changing during the full moon," I said.
Lupin stopped again. "That's impossible."
"Uh, no it isn't. It's just a matter of control. For a long time, Oz could control the change, keep from changing unless he was emotionally upset. Now he can keep from turning, but he usually does anyways. It helps him keep his balance to give into his wolfier aspects. And he can control himself when he changes, so it's like having a dog that plays baseball instead of fetch. Or something."
"Remarkable," Lupin whispered. He led us down the hall to a painting of a manticore. "The password is 'Norwegian Ridgeback.' I'll see you tomorrow in class. Or should I stop by in the morning and lead you to the dining hall?"
Spike shook his head. "Nah, we'll meet you down there, then you can show us to the classroom."
"Alright. Thank you for agreeing to speak with my classes tomorrow. It will be a tremendous opportunity. Good night," Lupin said, walking away. He walked through a patch of moonlight and paused. "Also, we charmed the windows and doorways. Any sunlight entering the building passes through a necro-tempering spell, rendering it harmless to vampires."
"Good to know, night." Spike called. I waved as the werewolf walked down the hall. Spike and I turned to face each other. Spike raised an eyebrow and imperceptibly nodded his head toward the right where our invisible watchers stood. I grinned.
"Let's go inside." We said the password and the manticore snarled before the portrait swung open. We walked inside and I suppressed a grin as muffled footsteps hurried in after us and went into a corner. The room wasn't too big, but it had a nice bed, a couple chairs, and fireplace. Spike stood near the doorway. I turned to face him, smiling.
"Sire, how long has it been since you've fucked me?" I asked, an innocent smile playing at my lips. Three quick, small gasps sounded from the corner. Their hearts started beating faster. Spike raised an eyebrow and suppressed a smile.
"'Bout seven hours. Far too long if you ask me," he murmured. I sauntered closer to him, rolling my hips. Leering, Spike reached out and grabbed the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me closer. Our lips met in a fierce kiss, our tongues sliding into each other's mouths. We practically devoured each other, our tongues visible. With a frustrated whimper, I pushed off Spike's jacket, then gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it off. I shivered as I saw his body and good God what a body it is. Sooo pretty. I love it. And apparently so did one of our ivisi-spies. Spike stepped away and pulled off my jacket and shirts, tossing them on the ground. Pressing against me again, Spike kissed me passionately, his tongue driving into my mouth and mimicking the thrusts of his hips against mine.
Pushing me to the floor, he kept pressing against me until my back was resting on our pile of clothes . . . right in front of the door. (God my Sire is eeeevil, like Dr. Evil evil, and I love him for it.) He started kissing me again, and I started losing my focus on our guests. Instead, I was focused on his fingers on my skin, his tongue, the way his hard cock rubbed against mine though the layers of our clothes. Spike reached down and began tugging on my belt and I suddenly remembered the others, mostly because one of them, a girl, smelled like she was two inches from an orgasm, while the heartbeats of the other two were reaching heart attack stage. I couldn't help it. I started laughing. Spike pulled away and looked down at me, his eyebrow raised before he started laughing as well. We were practically rolling on the ground with laughter. Finally, Spike rushed forward and grabbed at the three, pulling away a shimmering piece of cloth to reveal the black-haired boy with glasses and his two friends, bushy hair and red head. Their eyes widened as they quickly pulled out their wands.
I sat up on the floor, my laughs slowing. "You guys almost had a heart attack," I laughed.
"You knew we were there?" the girl said, blushing furiously.
"Sorry luv, but we knew you were there the second you started following us," Spike said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his cigarettes. The red head's face started to darken.
"They why did you do all . . . that?" he yelled, his hand waving in our general direction. Spike tapped out one cigarette and lit it before answering.
"Why shouldn't we, privacy of our own room and all that," Spike smirked, sitting on the ground behind me. He leaned against the wall and pulled me back against his chest. "What are your names?" he asked.
"I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley," she offered, gesturing at her friends in turn while blushing.
"Oh, are you related to those guys that own the joke shop in Diagon Alley?" I asked, excited. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, they're my brothers."
"That's great! Their stuff is the reason we're on the run . . . sort of," I said.
"Really? I would have thought it was because you're vampires or something," Harry said, wrinkling his nose.
"Nah, it's more due to us pulling various pranks on a house full of Slayers." I snickered as I remembered Canary Angel. (Dude, that would be a hilarious comic, a vampire who turns into a canary to fight crime. Good times. Must email Andrew with ideas.)
"I thought there was only one Slayer," Hermione replied, as if on automatic.
"Yeah, that's this whole thing involving armies of caveman vampires and CPR-," I started.
"For fuck’s sake, we'll be speaking in your classes tomorrow, he can explain it in the morning! Now bugger off so I can bugger the hell out of my boy here," Spike yelled. "That show we put on for you got me all ready to go."
Ron and Harry turned a pale green while Hermione's pheromones spiked. Naughty girl. Hurriedly, the three huddled under the cloth again and moved to the door. As soon as they left, I heard my favorite sound in the world: horny Spike!
"Xander," he purred. I shivered. He reached over and put his cigarette out on the stone floor, then leaned forward and pressed his lips to the back of my neck. With his hands on my hips, he urged me up onto my knees. Instead of the urgent sex I was expecting (hoping) for, Spike started trailing little kisses down my spine. You know, Spike may be very impatient when it comes to evil schemes, but not when it comes to sex. But this was kind of new. Before, it had all been about mind-blowing, shagging-like-bunnies sex. Sometimes he would draw things out just to torture me, but this was different. It was . . . tender, I guess. And just thinking that made breath catch in my chest, and made my stomach clench. His fingers just skimmed over my sides, tracing features that he'd seen often enough. His kisses wandered away from my spine, trailing up to my shoulders, then down around the small of my back. His hands moved to the front of my pants, quickly unbuttoning them. He shoved them partway down my thighs and began to pull on my cock.
"Spike," I whispered. I don't know how he does it, but in two minutes he can take away any higher brain functions I may have. Spike moved up onto his knees behind me and pressed his chest against my back. He buried his face in my neck, nipping at the flesh where neck meets shoulder. One of his hands moved up to my chest and began tugging and pinching my nipples. The other hand moved from my cock to my balls, rolling them gently. I whimpered and began wriggling against him, impatient.
"Now now, pet. You behave. Sire wants to play," he whispered. My response was another gasp, and something along the lines of "mmmeh." Using his nose, he nudged my chin back until my head rested on his shoulder. He moved his head up to nip at my lips, then started kissing me again. His hands moved to my hips, holding me in place as he ground his denim-clad cock against my ass. Spike broke the kiss and moved away from me, sitting on the ground behind me again. He moved his hands to my ass and began massaging me, his finger sliding between my cheeks and thumping against the plug lodged inside me. As I began to pant, he chuckled again.
"Take your kit off and get on the bed, Xander." I moved as fast as I could, standing and pulling off my shoes before pushing and kicking my way out of my jeans. I turned around and looked at him as I walked backwards to the bed. Spike had stood as well, but was just standing there, watching me with a mixture of amusement and . . . something. Once I was laying on the bed, I watched him as he slowly stripped, baring his body. He moved forward, stalking toward me. The firelight danced across his skin, and I just kind of stood there, mesmerized by how fucking beautiful he is. Being a vampire was still pretty new to me; sometimes I forgot that I'm a hunter now, not dinner. But even when I do remember, he can make me feel like prey again, especially with the "mmm . . . Xander" look he was shooting me.
When he reached the bed, he started crawling toward me. (And that makes want to thank whoever for inventing crawling 'cause that was really hot.) Stopping before he reached me, he grabbed my ankles and pulled me until my knees were resting on top of his thighs. Then I had another wiggy moment as he simply stared at me while his hands caressed my legs.
"What?" I asked, wriggling nervously. Instead of answering me, he smiled and leaned forward to kiss me. His mouth moved against mine, his body stretching out to lie on top of mine. Once I'd been snogged senseless again, he moved to my side.
"On your side, luv," he growled. I turned onto my side, shivering as he softly ran his hand down my side, then across my ass. He moved his hand between my legs, then up between my cheeks. He began to twist the plug around, a movement that felt good but was nowhere near enough.
"Please let me touch you," I whimpered (okay, I know whimpers aren't manly, but you try being all manly when Spike is playing your ass!). I love to touch him. I love to see him lose control because of how I'm touching and biting him. I love knowing that I'm good enough to make him feel good. But Spike didn't answer me, only pulled my plug out and slid two fingers inside of me. His fingers zeroed in on my prostate and started to caress it gently. My fangs dropped as I panted, my hands tangling in the blankets. "Please Spike, please. Need you," I groaned.
Spike added a third finger and began to rub my prostate even harder. "Please, I can't . . . I can't hold on," I wailed. I was desperate; somehow getting fucked by Spike had become an addiction. He removed his fingers and before I could mourn their loss, he was pushing inside of me. He filled me, a feeling I can't fully describe. Maybe it's because he's my Sire, or maybe it's because I'm in love with him, but when he's inside me, I feel complete, whole. Then he started moving; quick, shallow thrusts that hit my prostate and drove me crazy. I can't remember what I was saying, only that an unconscious stream of babbling and begging was coming out of my mouth.
He moved one of his legs between mine and placed his foot flat on the bed. Anchored, he began to pound into me. One of his hands moved up and untangled one of my hands from the bedding. He laced his fingers with mine, holding my hand tight. His other hand sought my hand, then moved our joined hands to my cock, pulling on it. My mouth fell open and my body tensed, and with one more thrust, I came. I arched my throat to the side, offering all of myself to him. Spike kept pounding into me, his mouth sucking on my throat. Suddenly, he was coming, but he hadn't bitten me. As I slowly stopped breathing, he pulled away from me. Standing, he pulled the blankets from beneath me, then crawled into the bed beside me and covered us. He hadn't bitten me, accepted my offer. It made my eyes prickle with tears. But between the driving and sex, I was exhausted. Spike spooned against my back, his arm around my waist.
At this point, I think he'd thought I'd fallen asleep. But I wasn't. As his fingers stroked my skin, I heard him whisper "I love you, pet."
That woke me up. I rolled over and faced him. He was pretty shocked, which a part of me cheered for because I never seem to surprise him anymore. Another part of me was kind of freaked out. Since he'd turned me, he'd been really honest with me. Aside from the occasional "I don't want to talk about it," he told me everything. And at that moment, he was completely closed off, his face guarded. I couldn't understand it, because our relationship was pretty well cemented so far. He Sire, me Childe, and no matter what, I was bound to him, loyal. I figured that maybe a part of him was still hurt from Dru's rejection, even though he rejected her last. And it was at that exact second that I figured it out: sure he'd turned me, but I could still leave him. That's why he was being so careful, why he didn't want me know he loved me. He was afraid that if he said the wrong thing, I'd leave him too. That's why his eyes were so guarded. He thought that I only cared for him in that Sire/Childe way, and that someday I'd move on. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I moved on top of him and straddled his waist. I reached down and laced our fingers together.
"Do you love me just 'cause I'm your Childe?" I asked. At that moment I was so glad that I didn't have to breathe, or else I would have held it. I looked into his eyes and they were frozen, cold like when he'd mocked me back in Sunnydale. I squeezed my eyes shut as my heart clenched in my chest. I took a deep breath and started to speak, but was unable to open my eyes and look at him.
"It's all mixed up in my head, Spike. It's not an easy thing for me to sort out, because I didn't really see you again until you turned me. Maybe after those years apart, I would have liked you on my own. But anything I've started feeling for you is tied up in our bond. A part of me looks up to you. You’re my universe. And that part adores you, worships you. But then there's the Xandery bits of me, the human parts, that remember everything that happened in Sunnydale." I felt the tension in his limbs return, so I kept speaking. "I remember you trying to kill me, I remember you chasing after Buffy, I remember you taking care of Dawnie and bitching about Angel. My demon loves you, my Sire, just because you are my Sire. But me, plain old Xander Harris, loves you because of all the stuff that makes you Spike. I love you, Spike," I whispered. Spike was frozen for a split second that nearly killed me. Then he sat up and cupped my face, forcing me to look at him.
"How do you know?" he asked. His eyes were dark, worried.
I grinned at him even though I felt like throwihg up. And although I'll deny it to his face, I was kind of bashful. "Because my demon isn't the one getting excited about pulling pranks on Angel and Buffy, or the one that gets all wibbly in the tummy when you bring me Twinkies and blood when I wake up. And it probably doesn't care so much about whether you agree with me about my theories on George Lucas. You like all the parts of me, and I like all the parts of you, including the parts that my demon doesn't. Sort of like when I fell in love with Anya. I knew it was happening because no matter how much the things she did annoyed the others, I loved them. And no matter how much some of the things you do bother my demon, I still love those parts of you. I love all of you."
Spike raised his eyebrow. "Really? What doesn't your demon love about me?" I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down. I didn't need him to ask me question, I needed him to tell me how he felt.
"Same stuff it hates about me. That I'm friends with Buffy and the Slayers and won't drink human blood unless it's bagged." Spike dragged his thumb over my lips.
"Open your eyes, Xan." I looked at him. He smiled at me before he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his forehead against mine.
"I love you, Xander. I love all the parts that amused me back in Sunnyhell, including the mouthy, sarcastic parts. I love the way you think of everyone else first, and I love the parts of you that are still innocent." The knot in my chest loosened, and even though I was tired, I felt like I could take on a gaggle of smelly fledges.
"And you love my naughty parts too," I snickered.
"Yes, I love your naughty parts, too," he smiled. He moved his head and pressed his lips to mine in a quick kiss.
Spike lay down again, pulling me with him. Reaching down with one hand, he pulled up the blankets and covered us. As the fire died out and cast us into darkness, I started falling asleep again. Spike ran his hands up and down my back, just touching me.
"I love you, Xander."
"I love you, too," I answered before I fell asleep.
God, I'm so going to enjoy boinking him for all of eternity.
Part Two
Soon after Spike turned me, Dawn (that little perv), made a snarky and porniful comment to me about fellatio and vampires not needing to breathe.
And you know what? It's true.
The next morning at Hogwarts, I got my favorite wake-up call (well, one of my favorites): I awoke to Spike proving the truth of that rumor as he attempted to suck my brains out via my penis. Now we vampires may not have a lot of body heat, but Spike has the oral skills to make up for it. I believe my first words of the day were "Oh boy."
Spike started laughing, the vibrations causing me to whimper. Looking down, I could see him moving under the covers. I threw the blankets back, revealing Spike sucking on me like I was the nummiest lollipop in existence. He looked up at me, his blue eyes laughing as he sucked hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. My response was to scream something (I so don't remember what I said) and come in his mouth. As I panted, he moved off of my soft dick and started kissing his way up my stomach and chest. He settled between my splayed thighs and rested his body on mine. He smiled down at me, cupping my face with his hands.
"Did you know I love you, pet?" he teased. I covered my squishy, smooshy feeling by rolling my eyes as I wrapped my arms around him.
"Yeah, I heard something like that." He leaned down and kissed me, rubbing his hard, leaking cock against mine, which, in response, was getting hard again (yay vampire recovery time!). I get that some people think it's oogy to kiss someone who has your come in his mouth. But tasting myself on his tongue (at least for vampire me), gets little Xan excited. And my demon sure likes it, knowing that my Sire smells and tastes of me. Sort of like a dog marking its territory, but with mad amounts of sex. When he broke the kiss, he smiled down at me.
"I love you, Xander." I smiled back at him, my grin so wide I felt like my cheeks were gonna pop.
"I love you, Spike. So what now?" I asked, wriggling Xander Jr. against Spike Jr. Spike raised an eyebrow, then jumped off the bed to dig through our bags. Pants, shirts, socks and sex toys flew through the air as he rummaged through our bags.
"Ha ha!" he crowed as he held aloft Excali- I mean, the lube. He sauntered over, his hips rolling as he crawled back into bed.
Great googily moogily; I heart me the gay vampire butt sex.
~*~*~*~*~
After our customary second round of morning/early evening/when we wake up sex, we showered, had sex in the shower and brushed our teeth before heading downstairs. And just like the night before, once we walked into the dining hall, we were the center of everyone's attention. Probably because I was grinning like a well-shagged loon and shooting Spike gooey looks.
"Hi everyone!" I waved, grinning widely. Most of the students stared at us like we were Klingon flamenco dancers. But those three sneaky kids were blushing; oh yes, they knew the reason behind my mad grinning and Spike's smirk of sexual superiority.
Once I became a vampire, I lost a lot of my self-consciousness. Maybe it's because I'd actually died and gained a demon, so most things seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Or maybe it's because I'm Spike's, so I always know I'm doing it like a monkey on Viagra with the hottest guy in any hemisphere.
So I sauntered through the hall and up to the teacher's table where I sat down between Remus and the short one, Flitwick. Remus was trying (quite badly, I might add) to not laugh at the look on my face as Flitwick tittered. Professor Sprout was grinning at us like we were the cutest bunnies she'd ever seen, while Professor McGonagall had that totally unimpressed and coolly detached look that I can't ever get right, but really wish I could. And Snape looked like he'd swallowed a hundred lemons at once. After chewing on glass. Again.
"Hello all, how goes it this fine, bright sunny day?" I asked as I started drinking a mug of steaming coffee. Spike was smirking at me, trying his hardest not to laugh. "What?"
Everyone fell silent. Giggling softly, Flitwick nudged me with his elbow and pointed up. I looked up to the ceiling and saw that it was, in fact, not a bright and sunny day, but a rainy and ominous day, the sky filled with black clouds.
"Fine then. So, how goes it this most dark and ominous day?" I revised, smiling again. After all, just because the weather is gloomy it doesn't mean I have to make it worse.
"If you'll excuse me, some of us have students to educate," Snape sneered, before stalking out of the room, his robe billowing behind him. He wasn't a super friendly guy, though he did make some bad-ass exits. But his attitude didn't matter because I was in a good mood. I'd had dirty sex with my Sire and was going to have yummy blood for brekkies (man, I love silly British words!); unlife was good.
"Fuckin' hell, he really needs to get laid," Spike said. Flitwick tittered again while Remus tried to suppress a laugh. And I was still smiling, because having wild, naked fun with your Sire (who loves you) is the mood enhancer of all mood enchancers. A sudden pop gave me a scare as the little elf dude from the previous night popped in again, carrying two mugs of blood. He set them down before popping out. Breakfast passed quickly as Flitwick started to fill us in on the gossip while we drank our blood. You know, you'd never think it just from looking at her, but Professor Spout is a real party girl. Well, lady, actually. Eventually, the room began to empty of students.
"Well, gentlemen, it’s time for class," Remus said, standing. Spike and I quickly drained our mugs before following Remus out of the room.
"Now, since a lecture by a pair of vampires is rare, we'll be holding class in one of the larger rooms so that all fourth through eight year students can attend," Remus explained. "Normally, there are only seven years of students at the school, but last year was interrupted by the war, so many of last year's seventh years have had to return."
When we arrived at the room, some of the students were already entering. Dozens of students who looked to be fourteen or older entered the room. We waited a few minutes, the students stared at Spike and me warily. But before he could introduce us, the door opened to reveal Professor Snape, followed by another group of students. After everyone was seated, Remus stepped forward.
"Today, we have a wonderful learning experience for you older students. So without further ado, here are your guest speakers," he finished before going to sit down. A few of the students clapped unenthusiastically, while most stared at us in pure fascination.
Spike swaggered forward, smirking as he shifted into game face. "My name is Spike, also known as William the Bloody, Childe of Drusilla the Mad, from the line of Aurelius, former member of the Scourge of Europe. And this is my Childe, Xander Harris, all around White Knight and friend of Slayers."
As gasps of recognition sounded, a hand near the middle of the room started flailing. It was Hermione.
"You said slayers, there's only supposed to be one Slayer at a time," she pointed out.
Spike looked over at me expectantly.
"I don't wanna," I whined. "You tell 'em."
"Hey, you were the one in the thick of it, Childe. You tell them," he ordered me.
"But-." My protest died on my lips as Spike shot me the "No Sire Sex for You!" warning look. I whimpered.
Taking a deep breath, I told them the tale of how the world went from one Slayer to lots of slayers. I started at the beginning with Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale and ended with the closing of the Hellmouth. Of course, I did leave out some details, like the specifics of Faith's dark period, my multiple possessions, Dawn's origins, and Buffy's second death.
Then a young lady in a blue robes asked the big ol' pain in the ass question: "If you're friends with the slayer, why'd she let Spike turn you into a vampire?"
That led to a big ol' explanation of my dying, which caused Hermione to ask a zillion questions about souls and stuff. By the time we satisfied that part of that girl’s curiosity, we'd explained everything we knew about souls, including the ways a vampire can get one, lose one and keep one.
Then the blond mini-Spike raised his hand.
"Name?"
"Draco Malfoy. Who tastes better: wizards or Muggles?"
"Well," Spike leered, "Depends on the person."
Ron and Harry's faces (along with several others) turned red again, and Snape started sputtering, indignant.
"I'm just messing about," Spike smirked. "You don't taste that different. Wizards just give you a bit more of a buzz, like the difference between drinking a cup of coffee and an espresso."
Draco's lip curled, offended. "You mean I taste the same as some Muggle?"
"You wizards, you get so much satisfaction out of waving your little sticks around. You're worse then humans with their computers. At least Muggles like to use force to kill each other," Spike sneered. "I can get the value of using a spell to torture someone, because then you don't have to worry about them dying on you before you're done. But a killing spell?" he snorted. "Y'know, there's nothing like draining a human, feeling their blood run down your neck while you drink away their life."
The class stared at us, horrified.
"Okay," I said, grinning, "how about I take this over before you really scare them and tell them something they won't be able to forget, like that Christmas you spent in Amsterdam with Dru."
"What happened in Amsterdam with Dru?" Hermione asked.
I winced before I answered her. "Uh, I don't think I'll answer that; just thinking of it makes me squeamish. I really never needed to know that clogs could be used in that way," I said, shruddering. "So, does anyone have any more questions?" I asked.
The students didn't say anything, looking somewhere between bored and horrified. So I decided to shift to the one subject that even I was interested in during school: sex. "Hell, I'll even tell you about mating habits. Like, did you know that vampires have zero recovery time?"
I watched as Snape's face turned a bit red and Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. I think that if Remus'd had eye glasses, he would have been polishing them.
"Recovery time? What's that?" a slightly chubby boy with sweet eyes asked.
"Well, uh, what's your name, kid?" I asked.
"Uh, Neville, sir, Neville Longbottom."
"Well, Neville, when two men love each other-."
"It means we don't have to wait however many minutes before we can get another stiffy," Spike interrupted bluntly. "We can just have sex for hours at time, no stopping until we pass out from exhaustion."
Neville's eyes rounded to size of tennis balls.
"I don't think I needed to know that," he said, whimpering.
Across the aisle from him, Ron mumbled: "You have no idea."
Another boy raised his hand. I called on him and he immediately began speaking.
"'Ello, name's Dean. So were you two friends when he was all evil?" the boy asked.
"No, we hated each other," Spike recalled with a fond smile.
"Can't imagine why," Snape muttered under his breath.
"But if you hated each other, why did you agree to turn him?" Harry asked, his green eyes narrowed.
"Because even though we fought and occasionally attacked each other, it didn't change the fact that I found Xan attractive and his personality appealing," Spike explained. "Watcher kept me chained in the bath, and Xander here kept me tied to a chair, and not in a fun way either. But Xander was always passionate, loyal to a fault and quite shaggable."
A bolt of lighting hit me (not literally), and I got a brilliant idea. "Spike, we totally need to find a chair like the one I had in the basement."
"What? Why?" Spike frowned.
I rolled my eyes as I stared at him, waiting for him to catch the hint. I knew he'd figured it out once he started leering at me.
"Ahh, I get you, pet. Sexy restrained vampire and reluctant yet enticing human teen," he said, smirking.
Spike kept leering at me, his eyes flashing yellow. Mine flashed in response as I unconsciously walked closer to him. Reaching out, he grabbed my belt loops and pulled me close. I could hear a frustrated Snape mutter behind us, but I wasn't really focusing on him.
"Okay, so, does anyone have any other questions for our guest speakers?" Remus interrupted suddenly, his voice just a bit too loud.
A dreamy-eyed blonde raised her hand. I smiled and nodded at her.
"Hello, I'm Luna," she said.
There was a pregnant pause as we waited for her question; it never came.
"You have a question, luv?" Spike prompted.
Luna smiled.
"Have you ever seen a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" she asked.
Several students groaned, and I noticed Hermione rolling her eyes.
"Sorry pet, but no, they don't exist, least not anymore," Spike answered.
"How can you be sure?" she asked, frowning.
"Because my Sire had us tromping through Sweden an entire winter looking for them," he explained, smiling.
"Just because you couldn't find them doesn't mean they don't exist," Luna countered.
"Look, Dru was a seer, and after four months of looking, one night she wakes up and says, 'the stars said there are no more of the Crumpled Horns. The beasts have eaten them all up.' Bloody well wish the stars had told her that earlier before I nearly froze my bollocks off."
Luna's face dropped. "Oh. Okay then."
I then became more certain than ever of Spike's sweet side when he frowned slightly, feeling bad for having crushed Luna's spacey dreams.
"But I think from what she said, she meant that they’d died out, not that they'd never existed. Though I have seen a Blibbering Humdinger," Spike offered. Luna's eyes widened as Spike continued. "See, those little buggers like to hide, and on a Hellmouth, the rules of physics can get a bit barmy. So because they want to remain invisible, they actually become invisible. You don't know you've even seen one until one day, you're rearranging your crypt, minding your own business when suddenly, you step on a patch of air that starts angrily squeaking at ya."
Luna smiled, her gaze turning contemplative.
"Just don't go poking around a Hellmouth," Spike warned. "They're dangerous places to be on your own."
Luna nodded. The class fell silent once again.
"So, did you know babies taste like chicken?" I asked suddenly.
Several of the students paled as a Snape practically freaked out. You know, I really need to stop making references to Eddie Izzard. People just don't get the joke.
~*~*~*~*~
After finishing our lecture, the students and Professors filed out for lunch. Spike pulled on my arm and we slipped away from the group. Listening for heartbeats, we snuck around until we found and ducked into an empty bathroom. Spike pulled a screwdriver out of a coat pocket (which I don't know why he carries in his coat) and jammed it in between the door and door frame, effectively locking us in. He turned around and cupped my face in his hands. Our mouths soon met in a gentle kiss, our lips brushing together softly. Breaking the kiss, Spike rested his forehead against mine.
"So, what should we do now, pet? You hungry?"
I smiled widely at him. "Well, not for blood," I said, leering. Yes, a cheesy line, I know this. But it was worth it to hear Spike's chuckle. He arched an eyebrow and curled his tongue behind his teeth, stepping back to look me up and down.
"Clothes off," he ordered softly. I grinned and complied, hurrying to pull my clothes off. I'm beginning to think my Sire has a thing for getting me naked in semi-public places. Not that I mind. 'Cause me naked almost always equals me and Spike doing it. In under a minute I was naked. Again, he looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my dick for a minute, which started getting harder each split-second he looked at it. He stepped closer and reached out a hand, wrapping his cool fingers around my dick. Slowly, he started to pull on it. I was just starting to buck my hips when I heard a giggle. Spike and I both froze. While we aren't exactly the poster boys for the religious right, we don't really want to corrupt the minds of little kids, like the first years. I tried to *ahem* calm myself down.
"Who's there?" Spike asked with a growl (and you know Spike's growling really wasn't helping me calm my guy down!).
"No one. Just keep playing," the disembodied girl's voice giggled.
Spike frowned and looked at me. We stayed still, listening, but we couldn't hear anything. Not a heartbeat or stilled breathing or the gurgling of someone's digestive tract. Finally, a ghost drifted out of one of the bathroom stalls. She looked like she was in her early teens, with thick glasses perched on her nose. And her very presence did what Spike's growl could not: in one second flat I was soft again.
~*~*~*~*~
After a sadly sex-free afternoon break and second lecture, we cornered Harry in the hallway. Harry gladly provided the information we needed, though he made it quite clear that he didn't want to know why we needed the details. He probably figured that whatever prank we played either involved sex or something that could get him arrested.
We knew that all the professors would be in the dining hall, so it was time for us to wreak our vengeful havoc. We hurried through the halls, following Harry's directions until we reached the empty classroom. It was dark as we opened the door. The room was pitch black, but as we entered, several lights flared to life.
"Alright, luv, where do you want to shag?" Spike asked, pressing his chest to my back and wrapping his arms around my midsection. As he sucked on my neck and began peppering my skin with nibbles, a spark of heat started at the base of my spine.
I turned to face him, smiling.
"Duh, the desk."
Spike eyes narrowed. "You make a lovely vampire, pet. Positively evil," he said, smiling as he used his body to press me back against the desk.
Leaning forward, he nipped sharply at my lower lip before sucking on it. His tongue flicked out, teasing my lips before he finally started kissing me. Our tongues tangled together as we started to grind against each other. The heat flared, and suddenly it felt like I was human again, warm with hot blood rushing under my skin. It was awesome. Spike slid his hands up under my shirt, stroking my skin, pinching my nipples. Moaning against his mouth, my hips bucked forward. Occasionally I think Spike lies about his ability to use a thrall, because sometimes it feels like I'm helpless, a puppet, and Spike just pulls the strings.
He pushed me until I lay on the desk, my feet still on the floor as papers scattered. Spike pushed my shirts up until they were gathered under my armpits. I watched as he rippled into his game face, snarling. Before I was turned, I thought his game face was terrifying. Now it's just a major turn on. I whimpered as he scraped his fangs against my skin, not hard enough to draw blood, but with enough pressure that small welts raised in their wake. His eyes locked onto mine, and he opened his mouth and sank his fangs in around one of my nipples, his teeth tugging on my flesh while his tongue flicked the hard nub. I wailed and bucked up against him, panting as he released my skin and licked up welling drops of red. Smirking at me around his fangs, he quickly bit around my other nipple. My game face dropped and I snarled, my arms flailing as I searched for something to hold onto. I vaguely noticed the sounds of ink pots crashing to the floor and glass breaking. Spike moved on and bit his way down my torso before opening my pants.
He stopped and I had to fight the urge to cry like a baby. I watched as he pulled my cock out, slowly fisting it. I started to wriggle, and he started to smirk. His game face fell away and I forced mine back. His beautiful lips were twisted as his eyes stared into mine, showing love and desire. I watched, hypnotized as he opened his mouth just enough for his tongue to slip out, then slowly dragged it over the drop of precum beading at my slit. I moaned loudly, frustrated. I wanted to force him to do something, even though he generally prefers that I follow his wishes. And even though I kind of enjoy (okay, really enjoy) how he controls me during sex.
He quirked his scarred eyebrow, then opened his mouth and swallowed my cock down to the root. I cried out, arching my back as his throat contracted around my dick. One of his hands moved behind my balls and tugged out the plug lodged inside my hole. He slipped two fingers inside me. As he swallowed around me again, he pressed hard against my prostate. With a strangled cry, I came. But he didn't stop sucking my cock, his tongue and throat still working it. It was overly-sensitized, with each lick sending pain and pleasure through my body. In only a few seconds, I was hard again. As I started to buck up into his mouth, begging, he pulled off of me with a smirk.
I watched as he practically tore open his jeans, his cock springing out. My mouth watered as I looked at it, entranced as precum leaked from the tip. I sat up and moved toward him, only to find myself tossed back on the desk, face down. As soon as I could, I gripped the edge of the in preparation for what I knew was coming. To my eternal joy, I was right and the next thing I knew, Spike was slamming his cock into me. I keened and arched my back as Spike pulled out, then pounded into me again, faster than would be humanly possible. It felt like a continuous wave of friction inside me, hitting my prostate with every move. My knees buckled and I collapsed forward, my head dropping onto the desk. The next time he slammed into me, the fingers of one hand tangled in my hair and roughly pulled me up until my back was against his chest, his mouth against my neck.
I cried out, the pain making my body tighten in a really good way. My hands reached back, looking for something to hold onto. They finally decided on his arms, clutching desperately at his wrists. He kept tugging on my hair and his tongue slithered across my neck and I began to sob. The continuous stream of pleasure and pain was too much; it felt so fucking amazing that I wanted it to send, sure I'd die (again) if he didn't stop. I began to beg and plead with him as a dark chuckle made my balls draw up. I heard him snarl, and then felt his fangs sink into my throat. I howled (possibly roared or keened, not sure) as I came and my vision whited out. I could feel him coming in me, and it was perfect. My arms dropped as my body shuddered uncontrollably. It had been so good, too good, too much. His arms wrapped around me as I started to fall, my super-strong legs having mysteriously turned gelatinous.
"Shh, pet, you're alright," he murmured. I turned in the circle of his arms, still shivering as he spoke against my temple. I gripped his duster, hanging on for dear life. As I regained my balance, I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of my lover, my Sire.
"I love you so much, Spike," I whispered.
"I love you, too, Pet," he said, smiling against my forehead. After standing there for a few minutes, his hands left me. When they returned, I felt one pulling me open as the other gently pressed the plug back into me. I smiled against his throat. I was a vampire, capable of so much, but most of the time, he was so careful to not hurt me. He wasn't afraid of hurting me, he just didn't want to. Slowly, he replaced and righted my clothing. Once that was taken care of, he sought out my mouth, kissing me sweetly, slowly.
"Bloody fucking hell."
Our heads swiveled toward the door where Snape looked to be two inches from a stroke. Personally, I don't think anyone has ever seen as much color on his face as I was seeing then. Surprisingly, his face managed to darken even further when Spike moved his hands to close his jeans. Snape was visibly trembling with rage as he stiffly walked toward the desk. Snickering, Spike pulled me toward the hallway.
I glanced back one last time as Snape curled his lip in disgust, staring at his desk. As Spike and I moved down the hall, giggling, we could hear him mutter: "There are not enough cleaning charms in the world." We could only imagine his reaction as he walked over to the desk and discovered its... dampened state. We only had to wait two seconds.
"You bastards!" he roared. Snickering, Spike and I ran using our vampiric speed, careening through the school and to the front hall. Various staff members stood waiting for us, as were Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville. We skidded to a stop, smiling.
"Where are our bags?" Spike asked, his eyes casting about.
"In your car, which is outside the gates," Professor McGonagall explained, eyebrow raised.
Grabbing my hand, Spike pulled me behind him as we ran.
"Thanks, luv!" he called over his shoulder. "It was lovely to meet you all, we must do this again, sometime!"
As we neared the front gate, we could hear Snape in the front hall, cursing at us. We heard his scream above our laughter, and just as we dashed out the gate, a bolt of green magical energy hit the wall beside the gate, causing bricks to explode. As we neared the car, I could hear Neville questioning Snape.
"Wow, would a killing curse really work on a vampire, Professor?"
The last thing I heard from the school was Snape snarling, followed by the snickers of Ron, Hermione, Luna and Harry.
I've decided we totally need to visit Hogwarts again. Snape baiting is my new favorite sport.
Next to sex.
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