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href="non90.html">90Sajinn
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.
Happy Birthday, Trixx.
Xander watched Spike finish up his blood. The vampire had gotten into the habit of washing out his mug right after he drank. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to Xander. Then again, Spike was generally very considerate, something that would shock Buffy and the others. They probably couldn't fathom how loving, how caring Spike was. Hells, they couldn't even see past the brittle shell the vampire put forth. Just beneath the surface was one of the most generous people, human or otherwise, that Xander had ever met.
The vampire had no qualms about indulging Xander, happily participating in almost everything. That included what Xander wanted to do that evening. He'd been leery of asking for this ever since his rather humiliating breakdown. However, he needed to do it, to go back, to show Spike that he wanted it for what it was and what it meant between them.
"You're thinking again, pet," Spike commented. "Something bothering you?"
Xander smiled and shook his head. "Nope, I'm fine. Just thinking about getting ready to go out tonight."
One sculpted eyebrow lifted up. "Is that so?"
"Mm hmm," Xander hummed. "I'll just be a few minutes." Spike watched Xander disappear into the bathroom. After a moment, he took a seat on the sofa and turned on the television. He knew the boy was up to something, but that was just fine. Spike knew that Xander liked surprising him, and so far that had been a good thing. He'd learned that letting Xander do things for him was mutually beneficial. Xander liked it, he liked it, and they often couldn't walk afterwards.
Xander jumped into the shower, grabbing his sharpest razor. He'd shaved that morning, so now he only needed a quick once-over. It didn't take any time at all and soon he was dried off and smoothing richly scented oil over his skin. He ducked out of the bathroom and ran into the bedroom before Spike could get a good look at him.
Spike listened to Xander rustle around. He'd caught a whiff of the boy's favorite, spiciest oil when the bathroom door had opened. Perhaps the evening would prove to be particularly... stimulating. Soon, though, he got caught up in the documentary on the atrocities of colonization.
Xander padded across the living room floor, moving to kneel at Spike's feet. As he fell to the ground, the chain around his neck tinkled lightly. The boy waited, holding in his hands a second, leather collar.
Spike heard Xander exit the bedroom and walk towards him. The telly was entrancing, so Spike didn't look over right away. No, the vampire's attention was riveted on the show--until he noticed leather. The combined scents of leather, spice, and pheromones hit him like a sledgehammer. That managed to get his attention. He glanced around, eyes flashing.
"Xander," Spike whispered. Oh, his boy was... at his feet, waiting for acknowledgment. His perfect, beautiful boy, in leather and steel. The vampire leaned forward, using one cool hand to bring Xander's face up. "What's this?"
Xander raised his hands up, presenting Spike with the leather collar. "Master," Xander whispered, eyes already turning liquid.
Spike glanced from Xander's open face to the collar. It was... exactly what he would've chosen. Unrelieved black leather, plain steel fastenings. Thin strips of leather overlaid the base piece, coming together in the back in a column of four buckles. "Put it on," He ordered hoarsely.
Xander nodded and lifted the collar to his throat. He buckled it slowly, stopping every time his breath hitched. Every buckle bound him to Spike, each leather strap tying him down, holding him to his lover. As soon as he was done, Xander's hands dropped down to his thighs as he waited for Spike's next order.
Spike reached out with a trembling hand, caressing the smooth, enticing leather. He was entranced by this very external sign of Xander's submission to him. The brunette shivered as the collar pressed into his throat. Spike abruptly grasped the chain that still encircled Xander's neck. He loosened it and slipped the thing over his boy's head, undoing the loop. The vampire used the spring-loaded hook on the long end of the chain to leash Xander. Then he stood, beckoning Xander to rise also.
Spike studied Xander's face. "My name. Call me by my name," He commanded. "Now, where should we go tonight?"
•••
The Absinthe Club was considerably busier than the first time they'd gone in
together. Xander followed behind Spike as they passed the bouncer and Spike
made brief, casual conversation with the owner. Enough of their admirers from
before were present to draw a small crowd.
Xander felt hot eyes on him and stood straighter, holding himself proudly. He had to be at his best to earn his place at Spike's side. Everyone in the club wanted Spike, he knew it. The very thought of Spike with one of the other slaves made Xander's eyes tear up. No, Spike would never look at one of them because Xander was going to be that much better. Perfect--that was what he was going to be. Without fault. The ideal slave. There would be no reason for Spike to be disappointed in him. Xander quelled his excitation, tamping it down expertly. It just wouldn't do to tremble and shake, now would it?
Once Spike ordered his whisky, along with something milder for Xander, he led his slave through the club. The vampire noted how Xander's attention was drawn to the couch where they'd spent their last visit. While dallying on the sofa would no doubt be pleasurable, Spike had other ideas. There was something he had long wanted to see, and now was the perfect opportunity for it.
Xander obediently followed Spike through the club. He knew he was on display, and it showed with every step. Head high and proud; strong, leather clad muscles flexing with every step. If Spike was the most desirable, most powerful being in the club, Xander was the closest thing to his equal.
Spike led Xander to a large fireplace that graced the back wall of one of the club's many rooms. A roaring fire sent waves of heat out onto Xander, making him sweat slightly underneath his leather clothing. "Are you warm, Xander?" Spike murmured, letting the heavy links of Xander's leash slide along the boy's arm.
"Y-yes, Spike," Xander answered. Blue eyes, lit with flickering firelight, captivated him. Spike was always an arresting figure, but now he was positively captivating. Pale blonde hair glowing; skin almost on fire, it glowed so brightly.
"Too warm?" Spike asked. He reached for Xander's shirt, easily unfastening the constricting leather. It fell away, revealing smooth, honeyed skin. Spike's mouth watered. "Finish undressing yourself," He ordered.
Xander immediately knelt to remove his shoes and unfasten his trousers. Once the leather was opened to his thighs, he peeled away the leather and remained kneeling at Spike's feet. The waves of heat from the fire were much more pleasant this way, almost a gentle caress stirring his hair.
Spike looked down on Xander with a soft smile on his face. He could smell the flood of pheromones that poured off the boy. How could he have doubted that Xander wanted this, loved this interplay between them? In the crazed, hectic world of slaying and simply staying alive and housed, Xander took a lot of responsibility upon himself. In this situation, the only thing Xander had to focus on was Spike. The lack of stress, the freedom, was apparent in every cell of the man's body. He was so relaxed, so... young. If he could, Spike would keep Xander here forever, just to never see his boy in pain ever again.
Xander turned his face upwards as a cool hand drifted over his cheek. He pressed into the caress like a cat, almost purring with contentment. When a smooth fingertip stroked his lower lip, Xander opened his mouth and briefly, tentatively, tasted that salty skin, worshipping his master.
Spike pushed his finger inside Xander's mouth, stroking the boy's tongue. Xander shivered and wrapped that warm, wet muscle around Spike, sucking softly. The vampire slid another finger inside as Xander closed sinfully hot lips around him.
Xander moaned softly as he suckled on Spike's fingers, working them in his mouth as though they were something larger, harder, and more sensitive. He could almost taste Spike's cock on his tongue, leaking bitter-sweet-salty fluids as he took that lovely flesh deep into his throat. Yet what he had was Spike's nimble fingers, and whatever his master gifted upon him was ambrosia, pure and more than enough to satisfy his every need.
Spike bit back a groan as Xander dragged his teeth along his fingers. Then Xander opened his eyes and looked up at Spike. Their eyes locked as the boy took those same fingers as deep into his throat as he could get them, swallowing around them as he did so. Spike felt his cock jump and twitch, as though the boy had been servicing that organ instead of a few fingers.
Xander kept his eyes focused on Spike's as he moved faster and harder. He needed to show Spike the depths of his love, had to express in some way just how he felt about his vampiric lover. This surrender, this absolute gift of self, was all that he had. In turn, Spike stood between Xander and the rest of the world. Even if that protection was gone when they stepped out of the club, while it was present, Xander felt incredible. He could let down his guard, be defenseless. In return, he was Spike's, without reserve.
The vampire was close, Xander could tell. He was panting and his eyes were flashing gold. Xander was deeply grateful that the club catered to a multispecies clientele. Spike didn't have to hide who he was.
Spike reached for his jeans, suddenly desperate to be inside Xander's mouth, to bring them together in the act his boy had been mimicking so very well. He was so close that a single touch of that liquid tongue would probably make him lose control. Regardless, he released the constricting pressure on his cock and immediately withdrew his fingers from Xander's mouth. The boy almost edged forward to envelope his cock, but stopped, remembering that such things were not his to take. Waiting was torture and time openly mocked Xander. He needed this, craved it, and every fibre of his being begged Spike to take pity on him.
Xander breathed heavily, warm air rolling over Spike's cock. The blonde thrust forward, painting the brunette's lips with precome. Xander almost whined, nearly ready to beg. Then Spike placed one hand on the back of Xander's head and pulled them together.
Spike's eyes fell shut as Xander took him in. Long, warm slide into silken heat and then his boy tightened around him, sucking him down, dry, over the edge...
Xander felt the first jet of semen hit his throat. He wanted to pull back, wanted to taste that precious fluid, but he stayed as he was, fully sheathing Spike's cock as the vampire trembled and hissed through his release.
Spike slowly came down from a sharp, shattering climax, enjoying the blood heat that surrounded him. After a moment, he withdrew from Xander's mouth, letting the young man sit back on his heels.
"Twenty-eight," Xander murmured reverently, sighing with contentment.
Spike opened his eyes and looked down at Xander, who was resting on the floor. He knew that around them stood scores of people, all panting and aroused by what he and the boy had been doing. None of them mattered, though. No, the only creature that Spike saw was his lovely boy.
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