Night Of Nights

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Night of Nights

Sajinn

No, they aren’t mine. I wish they were, but they aren’t. They belong to their creators. No money is being made. I just take them out, put them in pretty dresses, and make them fight each other. No harm, no foul. Feed the writer. Review.

The Seventeenth

Happy Birthday, Judd Nelson.

"I hate being chased!" Xander shouted over to Spike.

"What? And I do?" Spike shot back, reaching out to help Xander over a short headstone. They were being chased by a pack of hellhounds. Normally Spike would turn and fight them, but there must have been fifty of the buggers, all slavering and growling, eyes glowing and nasty. So now, instead of getting a bit of fighting in, Spike and Xander were running the thousand-meter hurdles through a graveyard.

"Tree!" Xander huffed, pointing to a nearby oak. Spike nodded and swerved in that direction. As they approached, he grabbed Xander and boosted him into the lowest branch. The vampire then leapt up himself. The two men quickly climbed up a few more branches, until they were a good thirty feet off the ground.

"Can hellhounds climb trees?" Xander asked, panting.

Spike glanced at the howling pack of rabid demon-dogs on the ground below them. "I hope not." Indeed, the hounds seemed to be pacing, growling and acting nasty--but not actually trying to climb the tree.

Xander relaxed visibly and pulled out his cell phone. A quick call to Buffy and Giles informed the other Scoobies of Xander's predicament. "So now we wait for the big dogs," The boy muttered, leaning back against the main trunk.

Spike shuffled back to lean against Xander. "Unless you fancy becoming a Xander-shaped rawhide chew toy," He commented. Mmm, Xander was so very warm and cozy, particularly when he breathed out against Spike's neck. The vampire hoped it took Buffy a long time to get around to saving them.

Xander grinned against Spike's neck, sliding one hand down to the vampire's crotch. The blonde began to purr as Xander fondled him through tight denim. Soon, however, Xander took pity on him and unzipped those constricting jeans, freeing the vampire's erection. "You know, I love doing this," Xander commented as he wrapped hot fingers around Spike's cock.

"Hmm?" Spike hummed, already boneless and fully draped against the boy. The howling dogs below them faded away as blood warmth sank into his body.

"Touching you, jacking you off," Xander murmured. "I love your cock. Did you know that?" He continued. His fingers teased and pinched, palm sliding over a moist, leaking head. Spike thrust helplessly into that hot hand, growling when Xander's other hand came down to press and massage his testicles. "Of course, I like it best when it's hard and inside me. The way you taste is almost enough to make me come, and feeling you shoot inside me does it every time."

Spike's head hit Xander's shoulder with a thump as he shifted into gameface. Xander bent his head to that pale throat, teeth latching on as he began to work Spike’s cock furiously. The vampire was close, he could tell; that pale hardness was swelling and pulsing and just any second he'd come, spill out over Xander's hand and...

Spike bit his lip as he came, swallowing his scream. His eyes tracked a long, strong arc of his semen as it shot through the air, slowly falling to the earth. Xander milked his cock with a few more gentle strokes before tucking him back into his jeans. It was then that Spike noticed the sounds of battle below; Giles and Buffy had arrived with more effective anti-hellhound weaponry.

"Seventeen," Xander whispered, tapping Spike on his ass as they climbed down. Spike nodded, his smile promising something for Xander a bit later.

When they got back to the ground, they found Buffy and Giles finishing off the hellhounds, Willow and Tara just a short distance away, also helping. "It's about time you crawled out of that tree!" Buffy shouted at the newcomers. "We're almost done!"

In fact, they were done--Giles killed the last hellhound with his sword and sheathed it angrily. "And now that we have saved your sorry arses, we can get out of here," He grated out, turning on his heel to march off.

"What's gotten into him?" Xander asked Buffy, scratching his head in confusion.

Buffy shrugged. "Ah, nothing, really. Some big bird shat on him while we were fighting. Left a big white stain on his jacket." She pointed at the retreating man's coat, which was indeed covered with a ropy line of white gunk.

Xander glanced at Spike, who was blinking hard. Very hard, as in 'if I blink enough, I won't break down in hysterical laughter' hard. "Er, it'll come out with some elbow grease," Xander suggested to the girl.

"A bit of club soda, maybe?" Tara offered.

Spike choked. "Dry cleaners?" Willow asked. "Maybe it was a good jacket."

"That's a big stain, though," Buffy said, shaking her head.

"One big pigeon," Xander agreed. "Thanks for the save, Buffy. We'll finish up now, ok?"

"No problem," Buffy threw over her shoulder, heading off to finish her own patrol, the girls tagging along behind.

"Pigeon?" Spike muttered. "One big pigeon? I'm no bleedin' pigeon!"

Xander smirked. "No, you're more of a hairy woodpecker."

Spike's growl sounded very much like a hellhound as the two men left the graveyard.

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