A stand-alone, offered up for Spray Your Shorts Day.

Ask Him About The Handcuffs


From Beneath You It, Well,

Let’s Just Say It’s Waiting,
And There’s Handcuffs

Xander arrived at the crypt door rehearsing his requests in his mind. Saying them over and over, screwing up his courage to ask the Vampire to do specific things to him (or to stay still so XANDER could do specific things to HIM) required a lot of forethought, a lot of rehearsing.

And, of course, if Xander spent enough time thinking the lines over and over again, maybe Spike would catch onto his thoughts and he wouldn’t have to say anything at all!

Then again, voicing his desires out loud felt good. It felt manly, empowering.

And it turned his Vampire on like nobody’s business.

So Xander was silently trying out different wordings and practicing his request when he realized he was standing in the crypt, and the crypt was empty.


That he said out loud.

“You’ll have to come down here for that,” came a voice from below, and Xander smiled, because he knew that voice was smiling.

“Come up here,” he requested, noting the darkness below, where not a single candle was lit.

“Open your present first.” Xander saw a wrapped box sitting in the dumpster-diver chair, and he opened it excitedly. “Vitamin water?” he said a minute later, not as excited.

“Have a few, and come on down,” the suggestive voice suggested.

“Light the candles so I don’t break my neck,” Xander complained, taking a few swigs of something he could definitely live without, feeling a little insulted. Vitamin water? Was this suggesting his blood was weak, or that he was dehydrated??

“You know the way down.” The silky voice was seductive, sexual, and Xander’s disappointment over his gift was forgotten. The Vampire downstairs seemed to have something very… well….. naughty on his mind, and Xander found his whole body was eager to find out what it was.

But descending into the lower part of the crypt in pitch darkness was no easy feat. For one thing, it was impossible to do with any grace. Xander wanted to stalk his prey like a cat, stride up to him manfully, seize him and throw him onto the bed. Hold him down firmly and tower above him and demand….

…..well, Xander’s demands might not sound too manly, in fact, really, they would just reveal how naive and inexperienced he really was. Ok, so maybe the “thrown-him-on-the-bed” fantasy and the “dare-to-ask-for-it-out-loud” fantasy didn’t belong together.

This was his train of thought when, standing in pitch blackness, Spike seized him, whirled him around and threw him into the darkness.

Xander cried out (ok, he screamed like a girl) and landing onto the familiar bed didn’t help his panicking heart, nor silence that one lone logical part of his brain shouting “TOLD YOU SO! EVIL VAMPIRE! GOING TO EAT YOU!” over and over again. Even when a shirtless Spike pounced on him and he realized *he* was on the receiving end of the “stride-up-to-seize-hold-down-make-demands fantasy”, even then he struggled to catch his breath.

“FUCK!” he said, when he could speak. “You gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Even in the total darkness, Xander could tell Spike wore a shit-eating grin. “And now you're going to taste good."

And the feeding began.

Xander shucked his shirt and toed off his shoes and socks while Spike concentrated on the mark right above Xander’s boxers, but couldn’t get to his jeans to remove them, so while he waited for Spike to finish he satisfied himself with leaning forward and stroking, kneading, even clawing Spike’s muscular back and shoulders. He tried to reach all the way into Spike’s pockets in hope to find the silver lighter, until he realized Spike was already down to his boxers, and thus all hope of light was gone. He cursed the darkness ….. he was a man in desperate need of a candle.

“No fair, you can see and I can’t,” he moaned, stroking one side of the face he saw every time he closed his eyes; all angles, all wickedness and attitude, all promises of pleasure. But Spike was too busy to answer.

Finally the feeding was finished and, panting, he moved to catch up Xander in his arms, holding his close, skin to skin, navel to navel, his entire body covering his lover’s body, lifting him up and moving him to the head of the bed. Xander took this as an amorous, even emotional embrace until….

.....until he found one wrist in a handcuff, and the handcuff, apparently, being laced through the headboard. “Wait…….what……WAIT!” was the best he could do.

“Trust me?” Spike asked, and in the darkness Xander could hear the grin.

“Was that a trick question?” Xander squeaked. The only answer was a long, cool finger inserted into his mouth. Xander turned toward the hand and began sucking on the bleeding digit with a will, in hopes somehow the Vampire’s blood would give him the ability to see in the dark. As always, he felt a surge of power coursing through his bloodstream and vibrating in his bones, but when he opened his eyes he still saw darkness.

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked, he dry mouth trying to form around the words from his dreams.

“Anything I want to love, isn’t that the point?”

“I do NOT approve,” he lied, his lip quivering. He jerked at the handcuffs in a manly fashion. “You’re sitting on top of me and you’re practically naked and I can’t see you and I can’t even touch you and *what* am I laying on??” The Vampire gave a low chuckle, but didn’t explain the soft, possibly wet things that seemed to cover the bed, feeling so cool against his skin.

“Bollocks, I can see you just fine.” Spike teased, stroking Xander’s face.

“Hello? Vampire?”

“Oh, OH, you mean………..you can’t see this?” There was a movement and a sound that might have been sucking…….”Or this……ahhh” Now his body was grinding against Xander’s, but his hands were strangely lacking, and what WAS he doing up there?!?”

“Did I mention how much I don’t like you?”

“Oh, wait, then you probably can’t see this….”

Xander grinned suddenly, but Spike, (who had bent over double and was attempting to bite his own thigh,) didn’t see it. He sat up just in time to feel Xander’s legs move, then suddenly found himself forced up and into the boy’s chest when Xander used his knees to move the Vampire towards him, folding him up in his own body. Spike fought (sort of) to untangle himself and avoid Xander’s mouth, which was reaching forward blindly to lick or bite any body part he came in contact with. Finally he was free of the boy’s body.

“I, Alexander Harris,” Alexander said breathlessly, “resident of Sunnydale, California do NOT AGREE to this.”

“Oh, pouty lip….” Spike started, but Xander was adamant. “I can’t SEE you and I can’t TOUCH you, so what’s the point?”

There was a movement and a click, and a single candle right next to the bed was lit, and then a beautifully sculpted ivory body climbed menacingly on top of him, now hovering above him, and suddenly his bravado before the Vampire vanished, because now there were wicked eyes holding him captive and making his knees weak.

Spike was looking at him. Had anyone ever really looked at him before?

With a moan, he turned his head and closed his eyes.

“I thought you wanted to see" Spike whispered in his ear, then proceeded to kiss, lick and bite his way his way, first to Xander’s left nipple, then his right. As Xander writhed beneath his hands Spike made his way patiently and oh, so slowly down.

“Spi…aaaaah” Xander’s attempts at communication only made Spike chuckle. Soon he came to rest on the boy’s navel, favoring it with tongue, lips and passionate kisses, his hands firmly holding onto rotating hips, maddeningly avoiding all contact with Xander’s aching erection.

“Ah, the Big Bad,” the boy finally managed, with a groan of frustration as he failed to touch Spike’s face with is cock no matter how many times he tried. “He has me chained to the bed in his crypt and all he wants to do is forcefully KISS my bellybuttAHHH SORRY SORRY SORRY” he pleaded as the Vampire tortured him with several bites along the most ticklish parts of his ribcage. The Vampire ended the punishment quickly, but only to strip him clean of his jeans. Now his tormentor stopped and stood, admiring, and Xander’s eyes were once again screwed shut.

He heard a low chuckle, then felt his boxers slowly, but surely, being pulled down and down and down, freeing his aching erection, leaving him exposed in the (not dark enough!) darkness. He was completely and utterly naked and helpless and suddenly realizing why he had been told “be careful what you wish for.” He shivered, and didn’t open his eyes again until the Vampire had covered his nakedness with his own long body.

Xander opened his mouth for a kiss, but got none, so he lay his head to the side, exposing his neck, but it was left untouched. He opened his eyes, waiting, panting, in the silence.

“Are these roses?” he asked, suddenly realizing what the cool petals were, covering the bed.

“Special for you, love,” his lover whispered against his cheek. Xander turned his head for a kiss, but the lips withdrew, and the wicked eyes were looking at him again.

“What …..what are you doing?”

“Nothing, love. Not until you ask.”

Xander groaned and pulled at the handcuffs, looking up at his helpless hands.

“No pointing, no gesturing, and no guessing. I want to watch your mouth form around those dirty words.”

“Does it make you hard?” Xander asked breathlessly, remembering a fantasy he had thought was his own.

“It makes me crazy.”

Xander closed his eyes and pulled at his bonds. His hands were unavailable to make requests now, and his words would certainly fail him. He was wishing for the darkness again, and was wondering how ask for THAT, when something occurred to him.

His eyes flew open when he realized the obvious – of course! A myriad of requests could be made with the shortest word.

“Fuck me,” he said forcefully, suddenly, looking into the cold blue eyes.

But Spike just grinned. “There’s hundreds of ways to do that love, which one did you have in mind?”

“I have to chose with just one?” Xander whimpered.

“One at a time.”

With a moan Xander tried to bring Spike closer to him by bringing up his knees again, moving his head forward to touch Spike’s face. There, cheek to cheek, he picked the easiest of the requests.

“I want to come in your mouth again.” he lied, and instantly Spike was turned around, his boxer-clad ass sticking up into Xander’s face, his face buried between two willingly open thighs.

Perhaps Spike had enjoyed his pet’s hesitant kisses and exploratory licking and false-starts that were necessary in his slow approach to actually taking his lover completely into his mouth. Enjoyment or none, Spike simply wasn’t one for wading into the water, he simply dove in, and any addendums Xander had intended to add, any “wait, there’s something I want more” s he wanted to throw in when he wasn’t looking the Vampire in the face, well, they were far away thoughts, now, driven right out of his mind by the maddening suction that was surrounding him, working him, sucking him, CLAIMING him in ways he hadn’t known were possible. Forming coherent thoughts now, let alone SAYING them out loud, was currently impossible, and Xander had to content himself with clutching the ornate headboard to which he was bound, and looking down at the beautiful alabaster body sitting ass-first in front of him. And moaning.

It wasn’t an unpleasant task.

“Oh……JESUS CH…. sorry! Sorry! I meant to say fuck……oh JESUS did I ever mean to say fuck…”

Feeling your lover laugh in his low, luscious way, especially when he had a mouthful of you, was an experience he would never forget, Xander was sure. Saying good-bye to the request he MEANT to make, he lay back his head against his bound hands and prepared to come inside Spike’s excellent and skillful mouth. His plans changed, however, when strong, insistent fingers began gently wandering, no, purposefully moving below his ball sack, stroking, caressing, exploring. And now, oh yes, and now….

Spike removed Xander from his mouth to wet his fingertips with his tongue. He shot the bound man a wicked smile, then devoured his cock whole again. But now Xander’s mind only knew that slow, cool hands were spreading his ass cheeks and one gentle, moistened finger was pushing it’s way inside him.

Spike said he wanted *words* from the boy, but words, as his Vampire once told him, require air, and at the moment Xander had none. Instead he bucked his hips up, pushing himself towards his lover’s hand urgently, finally finding the presence of mind to moan. His wordless enthusiasm enthused the Vampire who went to sucking him off with a will, hands kneading the muscles in his ass while pushing into the most intimate place of him, deeper, deeper.

“Yes, yes,” Xander managed, but when he felt a rushing sensation coming upon him he made a quick decision. “Stop, not both, not both……no, don’t stop THAT…” he cried when the fingers disappeared. Spike’s face came up again, confused.

Now or never, donut boy,” Xander thought, and, breathlessly, he managed to explain, “I don’t want to come yet, but I want you…..I want you to keep touching me there.” Here he closed his eyes because Spike was looking at him again. He held on for dear life as the fingers worked magic in impossible places, but he didn’t dare look again (didn’t he ASK for the candles?) knowing he would only see those eyes that were now boring into him. His knew his lover was devouring his face now, watching every tiny expression that crossed his face as knowing, loving fingers undid him.

But something had changed – now he felt Spike’s mouth biting his inner thighs again. Both hands were molding and working his ass and now it was Spike’s mouth, Spike’s tongue that was actually entering him and Xander wondered if it were possible to die of sensory overload.

His dry lips were moving, and something resembling words were coming out, and his lover left his legs to look up. “Yes, love?”


That wicked smile. Fingers inserted into the smile to wet them……them? Yes, two, now three, in and out, in and out, going in no deeper than that incredible tongue had gone, but playing with him, spreading him wider. Xander held the Vampire’s gaze now, watched him intensely as he looked back and forth between his fingers and the results as they played across Xander’s face. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what, pet?”

“Don’t stop fucking me with those beautiful fingers.” His lover grinned at his daring and rewarded him by caressing his face. One hand on the face, the other hand inside his body, eyes watching the boy writhe. “More?”


Both hands were removed and Xander’s eyes flew open in time to see the tall glass jar, the one with the obscene lid, brought to the bed. The hand that held the lid was now dipping fingers into the jar (have you ever noticed how *long* those fingers are?) and now slick, smooth digits were being pressed farther into him than he thought possible, long and sweet and slow. And at all times the eyes were on his face.

“Like this, love?”


“And now, what do you want?”

But Xander was beyond speech, because Spike had touched *something* inside him, something that had set every inch of his skin on fire and moved through him like the feedings never had, and he clenched his fists and he gasped for air, and in the moment before he completely gave up his mind he whispered, “Now swallow me when I come.”

The pained groan that emerged from his Vampire was worth every effort as Spike fell on his engorged cock and pulled him with his vigorous suction, greedily consuming every drop as Xander came endlessly, shouting words that must have been heard above ground, throughout the cemetery, confusing the random prowling demon. Then Spike’s mouth was on his, kissing and biting as he lay helplessly, insensate.

Not for long – Spike had shed the rest of his clothing and was climbing on top of him, furiously jacking off and aiming for Xander’s chest, his long body bending so that their mouths were still glued together, and given the groans vibrating against his lips Xander brought himself back to reality before the moment was gone. Wrenching his face away with some difficulty.

His lover wanted words? Here were words.

“Fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you like I did last night?” the Vampire was gasping, sitting up and pulling Xander’s legs apart.

“NO! I want you to fuck me, don’t take care of me, don’t go easy on me and don’t come on me, for God’s sake I want you to stop acting like we’ve got the rest of our lives to do this, I want you to fuck me, for real, I want you to fuck me into the fucking floor and if you’re NOT going to do me then take THESE off, because there’s no POINT, is there?”

He was shouting. His wrists were on fire; he had gestured with his bound hands so violently he had hurt himself, and he was looking into a dangerous, silent face and wondering if he should be afraid.

"Hello? Vampire?" one lone logical part of his brain was saying (the one part of his brain that had NEVER agreed to this) when the Vampire moved with preternatural speed – one moment sitting on top of him, mouth hanging open, the next moment lip to lip with him, jaw caught in an iron grip. “Might hurt, love” the deadly voice was saying into his mouth. “Might cause you pain, which might put a dampener on the evening. Might give a body a blinding headache.” “Distract me, then,” Xander whispered back, trying to look down at the fingers holding his chin.

Four slim (and long!) fingers appeared before his eyes, and then a thumb ran across the fingertips. How his lover cut his own skin without a blade Xander never knew, and knew he would never ask. Instead he took the bleeding fingertips into his mouth two at a time, drinking more willingly than he ever had before, needing the feel the rush of power that might dull any pain that would distract his lover. Two fingers were retracted and replaced with two more, as Xander heard the rushing sound filling up his ears and strength coursed through his body, the only thoughts banging through his head: let this happen, let this happen, please God let this happen.

Now the hands were gone and the alabaster box, the one with the wrought iron lid, was being brought out, being opened, and when it was opened he caught wild scent of spices and roses (of course, that could have just been the roses.) A graceful finger dipped into the liquid within. “Hang on, love,” his Vampire said, and with no other warning the finger was inserted completely into the center of him, sliding in smoothly and causing him to cry out. He was immediately filled with fire and ice and his whole body seemed to tingle as the ointment anointed him, one finger, now two, now three, his whole narrow passage prickling, then relaxing, almost going numb. Three fingers, now four, and all the time the two eyes on his face, waiting, watching.

“What is that?” Xander asked, although further conversation seemed irrelevant. Spike smiled. “Special concoction, been around for a while. Grape seed oil, St. Joseph’s Wort, and a perfectly useful, mundane substance which is currently illegal, which gave me a devil of a time making it.” “You made it?” A wry smile. “Just for you, pet. I’ve been thinking about this for some time.”

Suddenly the fingers were gone and Spike was generously greasing up his own substantial cock, at least, that’s what Xander saw him doing before the world went dark.

“Open your eyes, love.”


“Please, for me.” When he did Spike’s face was lying next to his, cold lips speaking into his ear. “Anything for you, love. Anything. All you ever had to do was ask.”

And then he was inside.

One swift, merciless motion and his lover was buried up to the hilt, taking him and possessing him in ways that he had never dreamed of, all care and concern vanished, dominating and demanding, driven. Xander was lost in the onslaught (but wasn’t this what he had himself demanded?) and all he knew was motion and sensation and sound. And if he heard the growling and the snarl of “You’re MINE, Harris!” he did not respond. He only pulled and pulled and pulled at the handcuffs, desperately and heedless of the bruises, aching to put his hands on Spike as he watched the face above him grimace, teeth grinding, and now the face flexing as Vampirc ridges flashed in and out of existence until the man threw his head back, mouth open, as if in agony.

“I want to watch, I want to watch you come,” Xander thought (or spoke, he couldn’t’ tell.) But at the last moment Spike’s hand shot out to catch his head and slammed it to his chest, coming with a roar above him, filling him, filling him with his cold and burning seed.

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