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 Twenty-Seventh

Happy Birthday, Smokey.

"I can't believe I agreed to come back out here again," Xander groaned. They were once more out on the prowl for hellhounds. Where just a few nights ago they hadn't been able to lose the hellhounds, now they couldn't seem to find a single one.

"Maybe we should try over by the butcher's," Spike suggested. "There's a nest of Harskcha demons there. Hellhounds love 'em."

Xander shrugged. "Sounds good to me," He said, following the vampire across campus. "So, what do hellhounds do with Harskcha demons?"

"Before or after they rip their guts out?" Spike inquired.

"Never mind," Xander replied, grimacing. "Let's just go hunting the hellhounds and not think about devil dog chew toys?"

Spike laughed. "Right. We'll just prance on over to Bradley's for a pint of cow and hound chasing. Come along, then."

•••

"See? Nothing," Xander spat. "Not a paw print, not a puppy swirl. There's not a hellhound in all of Southern California, much less Sunnydale."

Spike was wont to agree with the young man. The Harskcha demons were prancing about in the shadows like twisted little squirrels, obviously scared of nothing. The diminutive things could smell a hellhound from five hundred paces; if they weren't running scared, there wasn't anything around. "Right. Why don't we pop inside to stock up, then?"

"Sure," Xander murmured, opening the butcher's door for Spike. The vampire placed an order for whatever tickled his fancy that week while Xander studied the floor with great intensity. He wasn't fond of the all-night butcher's shop. The owner freaked him out.

"Could you carry this?" Spike asked Xander, holding out a huge paper bag of blood. The vampire had several items under one arm, ones that looked nothing like blood containers.

"Sure," Xander said. "What's in those?"

"Steaks, lamb, Cornish hens," Spike replied lightly. Xander blinked. Wow, Spike was in a good mood. Xander knew that because those were the types of meat the vampire cooked himself. He didn't trust Xander to do them justice. Then again, Xander had tasted what Spike could do with a leg of lamb, and he wasn't complaining.

They walked down the street together, Spike smoking a cigarette with his free hand. About halfway to the car, Xander's cell phone rang. He glanced down at his burden and scowled. "Spike? Could you get my phone? I can't reach it."

"Alright," Spike sighed, slipping his hand into Xander's pocket. He flipped open the phone and paused, puffing on his cigarette.

"Phone?" Xander murmured.

Spike grinned and held it up to his own ear. "'Ello?"

"Spike!" Xander hissed. "Give me the phone!"

Spike covered the receiver. "Quiet, mate, it's Rupert. 'Sides, your hands are full." The vampire went back to the phone conversation, ignoring Xander's irate stare. "Rupert? Yeah, we're still on patrol."

Xander glared at the vampire, willing the demon to give him his phone back. Spike steadfastly ignored the boy's best efforts. "Where's Xander?" He's lookin' at a bevy of Harskcha demons."

"Spike!" Xander tried one more time. The vampire turned slightly away, as though Xander was rudely interrupting his conversation.

"I know that, Rupert. An' I told him that Harskchas are about as evil as lemmings, but you know the boy. No, I won't let him do anything stupid like take one home. Yes, I'll get him back on task. No, I won't feed him to the hellhounds. Fuck, Rupert, we haven't seen one all night."

Xander was suddenly struck with a very, very evil thought. That thought grew into a devious, cruel idea. He carefully set the bag of blood containers down and stepped in front of Spike again. Then he fell to his knees.

"What? The mall? You want us to look for them at the fuc--" Spike's rant ended in a squeak as Xander unzipped his jeans and swallowed him to the root. Xander dragged his teeth along Spike's length as the vampire tried desperately to finish his sentence. "Er, no, Rupert, the mall is fiiiine."

Spike glanced down at Xander, eyes crossing at the sight of his pale cock disappearing into that rosebud mouth. Rupert was a fly buzzing in his ear, a minor annoyance keeping him from enjoying the full effect of that liquid heat burning him. "Ah... no, Watcher, I don't think the hellhounds are..." The blonde moaned as strong muscles rippled around his cock and clever fingers reached in to fondle his sac.

"What was that? No, no one's getting hurt. That wasn't a moan, just a drunk walkin' by. Bloody hell, Watcher, I'm not killing the boy..." Actually, Xander was trying his damnedest to off the vampire. Fingernails scraping tender flesh, lips closing around just the tip of his erection, sucking hard.

Xander teased Spike with his tongue, rasping the rougher surface across sensitive tissues. Then he sank back down, swallowing hard, almost biting down. At the same time, he twisted the hand on Spike's balls ever so slightly.

"Yeah, fine, I'll go fetch the boy and ahhhh--" Spike screamed as he came, bucking into Xander's warm, wet mouth, the pain and shock of the act bringing him to a fast and unsteady climax. Giles was forgotten as Spike shot his mind across Xander's tongue.

Xander licked Spike clean and then stood up to take the phone. "Giles? Yeah, it's Xander. No, I just gave the phone to Spike 'cause I left my jacket in the car and I was going dumpster diving. Didn't want to lose it. We'll look over by the mall tomorrow, G-man. It's late, you know. And yes, I'm aware that you hate that nickname. Good night, Giles."

Spike tucked himself back into his jeans while Xander got rid of the Watcher. The smack on his ass was not unexpected, but he jumped nonetheless. A quiet snick signaled the end of Xander's phone call and the boy hefted his paper and blood burden off the sidewalk, joining Spike. "Twenty-seven," Xander said cheerfully as they resumed their walk. "Was it good for you?"

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