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 Fifth

Happy Birthday, Jant.

Spike pushed Xander back, toppling the young man onto the bed behind him. Such a lovely sight, his boy was. Golden skin sheened with sweat, slight flush on that adored face. He climbed on top of Xander, licking his way up the brunette's stomach and chest until he reached already-bruised lips. Tongues met, greeted each other like old lovers reunited and danced slow and sweet between mouths warm and cool. Spike tasted himself on Xander's tongue, underneath the heady flavor of chocolate and the boy's own taste. He chased that rapidly disappearing trace of his essence. He knew that all too soon Xander would taste like himself and not Spike, but for now the boy was marked. His.

Xander stroked Spike's back, one hand gliding smoothly, the other catching due to the sticky chocolate still left on his palm. He loved it when Spike kissed him like this, as though there was nothing in existence other than their tongues and teeth and lips, as if words could be transformed into sucking and nipping, and Spike was reading him sonnets. Still, while his tongue and most of the rest of his body were quite willing to let Spike whisper sweet nothings into his lips for hours on end, Xander's cock was making it known that he'd been somewhere between semi-hard and aching for most of the day. Now Spike was positioned just so, cold cheeks pressing down on Xander's weeping erection. Xander wanted nothing more than to sink into that tight body and watch Spike's eyes roll back. Hearing the vampire wail and moan wouldn't be bad either.

Spike reluctantly left Xander's mouth so that the boy could draw a decent breath. Besides, Spike wanted something else. He reached for one of the bottles of lube on the nightstand, reaching back to press it into Xander's hands. It didn't take long for the young man to grasp the bottle, but his face held confusion. Spike leaned back down, pressing his and Xander's faces together. He whispered in the boy's ear, letting his cold breath stir dark hair. "Prepare me?"

Xander's cock twitched. Oh yeah, he could do that, no problem. He slicked up his cleaner hand and brushed the tips of his fingers across Spike's hole. The vampire shifted back, trying to increase the contact. "Just do it," Spike growled into Xander's ear, inhumanly strong hands clutching at the boy's shoulders. Xander obeyed, slowly pushing one finger inside the blonde's body, just resting there. After a moment, he pushed in another alongside the first. Spike gasped, and then thrust back hard, impaling himself. Xander groaned as the vampire's body pressed down on his trapped cock, squeezing him cruelly, teasing him with promises of perfect ecstasy. This is yours, Spike's body said, and you are mine. You and I want the same thing: grinding, opaque oblivion.

Spike sat up suddenly, reaching back to position Xander's cock. The boy started to protest, wanting to make sure Spike was stretched enough, slick enough for this. Spike ignored him, sinking himself down on Xander's erection. The blonde stared down at Xander, daring him to argue. Spike tightened himself around the boy, milking him with inhumanly strong muscles. Xander took in the sight above him; long, ropy body, iridescent blue-yellow eyes, jutting cock. Spike looked...powerful like that. It seemed odd to Xander, that the one on bottom would be so dominant. But like this, Spike was very definitely in control. Xander felt like the one being taken instead of Spike.

"Move," Spike hissed, rolling his hips. Xander thrust up helplessly, drawn by the slick movements of Spike's soft-hard body around him. He watched as Spike shifted back slightly, adjusting the angle of Xander's thrusts until, with an almost painful cry, got it just right. Blue disappeared in a flood of yellow, smooth planes roughening into demonic ridges. Xander reached up to catch Spike's hands as they reached for him, tangling their fingers together. Spike bore down on this new support, riding Xander with short, staccato thrusts.

Xander bent his knees slightly, managing to get his feet flat on the bed. Then he pushed up with more force, meeting the vampire's brutal pace with equal intensity. Spike's eyes never left his; the vampire seemed to be commanding him silently. Faster, harder, my lover. I can take whatever you give and give it back twice more. This between us is not roses and silk but iron and leather; we are musk, not flowers. Xander answered in kind, meeting Spike's every touch, obeying each directive.

"Xander, more," Spike ordered, moving faster and faster, demanding more of Xander's body with each downward thrust. He wanted the boy with him, coming inside him, filling his cold self with something living and hot and what was his by rights, because this man underneath him was his, *his* boy. Xander's pleasure was his, his to give and his to take. When he was like this, split open and crammed full of his darling lad, he knew with absolute certainty that the boy's pleasure came to him and him alone. There was no doubt in his mind that when they were like this, the boy thought of no other. No one had given to Xander what Spike had, or taken from him in the same manner. This was one thing over which Spike was lord and master.

Xander was caught by those hypnotizing eyes, powerless to disobey Spike's voice. He bucked up underneath the vampire, thrusting hard inside that grasping, cool hole. He was being used, worked over for Spike's pleasure. That didn't bother Xander at all, though. He'd been used before, by Anya and others, but this was different. When he looked at Spike like this, when the vampire was wringing him dry, he saw something beyond the relentless hunt for pleasure. There was a need there, a real, deep-seated need. Spike wanted Xander, needed him to belong, to be utterly *his*. This wasn't simply Spike fucking himself on Xander's cock; this was Spike *owning* Xander. And no one had ever wanted to own Xander before. The knowledge that Spike was branding him, even if the mark was invisible, drove Xander higher, bringing him that much closer to his own climax.

Spike moaned brokenly as Xander hit that perfect spot yet again. He was so close, muscles clenched to the point of cramping from holding back and not coming all over his lovely boy, marking him with his dead seed. He needed Xander, needed... Spike clenched himself around the young man, thrusting so quickly the friction between them made his own cold skin hot. Xander screamed hoarsely and arched, back leaving the flat comfort of the bed as strong shoulders bore their combined weights. Impossible heat filled Spike's body, rushing inside him. He had Xander, possessed the boy as no other could. That knowledge alone pushed Spike over the edge and a sharply fanged mouth fell open in a helpless groan as he came, falling forward to cover his perfect boy.

Xander came to sometime later, still weighted down by Spike's boneless body. The young man eased out of the vampire, feeling a trickle of still-warm fluid accompany his withdrawal. There went another set of sheets. At least he'd invested in more. He reached one now extremely sticky hand up to cover the chocolaty handprint he'd left earlier. "Five," He muttered into Spike's gel-stiffened hair. "And I'm thinking you need a shower."

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