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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, Lisa. Sorry it's a day late. Hope it's not a dollar short. Words to poem are based on e.e. cummings.
Spike returned to consciousness with the exquisite sensation of being filled. Sleepy blue eyes slid open, fixing on Xander's beloved face. A new scent joined the perfumes of roses and sex, drawing Spike's attention.
"You never did tell me what you wanted for Valentine's Day," Xander murmured, thrusting forward slowly. "So I got you a little of everything." As if by magic, a bit of dark chocolate appeared on the vampire's lips. A quick tongue darted out to catch it, brushing against Xander's fingers. Bittersweet chocolate, a hint of salt from the human's skin, and what might have been wine. Spike held the confection on his tongue, wishing he was warmer so that it would melt.
Xander seemed to have read his mind, however. The youth leaned forward, sliding his tongue along Spike's lips, begging entrance. The blonde was helpless to deny him, not the lovely creature who had him pinned in a sea of things vampires just didn't want, even when they did. Strong, rhythmic strokes of their joined tongues mimicked Xander's cock inside Spike, moving with great purpose but no hurry. Time was theirs and no one else's, for them alone to enjoy.
Spike marveled in how each of his senses was strangely enhanced by what Xander was doing. He was always aware of how he heard Xander's heartbeat and the flow of blood through the boy's veins. Now, however, the vampire was certain that he could hear every tendon and ligament as they shifted, each muscle contracting and relaxing. If he focused, Spike knew that the whispering noise he heard was Xander's thoughts, pouring out over him like ribbons of water and blood. His skin burned with each caress of those careless murmurings, invisible marks raised like welts. His boy, his lovely boy, was so pure, so sweet, that his very existence was like holy water; perfect and unsullied and therefore an anaethema to Spike's demon. The vampire was addicted, though--to the keening pleasure of this man as well as to the pain that their closeness entailed. Any pain would be worth bearing because each time Xander looked at him with those liquid eyes, Spike was healed. Torturer and savior in one person, the perfect mate for a demon who thrived on darkness amongst light.
Right now, though, Spike was entranced by how the bitter chocolate, with its hint of hazelnut, was such a perfect foil for Xander's taste. Alone, both were intoxicating, but together there was a sharpness, an undertone of sour accenting the bitter and the sweet, that forced Spike to deepen the kiss even as Xander dove into his body, unerringly finding his prostate to elicit plaintive wails. Spike didn't bother trying to restrain those cries, knowing that Xander would swallow each one with heartbreaking willingness.
Much to Spike's chagrin, Xander broke their kiss. Those cherished lips drifted across his cheek, pressing warmth to him as they moved. The vampire shuddered with the contact, rippling around Xander's cock inside him. "Sometmes I am alive," Xander whispered, echoing words said earlier by the blonde, "Because with me your alert treelike body sleeps."
Blunt fingers danced across Spike's chest and down his belly, to lay claim to the aching hardness that stood there. "Which I will feel slowly sharpening, becoming distinct with love slowly," The young man said, taking up a slow motion with his hand. Spike trembled, not sure what he'd done to earn the prize of Xander's affections. How was he to repay such caresses, such words?
Xander felt Spike's body shake and grow tense. He crooked his head, arching his neck over the vampire's parted lips. He needed the connection between them, to feel Spike inside him even as he was taking the blonde with his own body. "Who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth," He urged, practically commanding Spike to bite.
Spike felt his fangs descent with aching slowness, their points crying out for the silken flesh above him. The first touch was torture, the second perfect as he slid gum-deep, knowing that Xander could only feel ecstasy from the bite.
"Until we shall attain the Springsmelling intense large togethercolored instant," Xander whispered, thrusting in time to his hand on Spike's cock, which in turn tugged and slid in rhythm to each draw on his blood that kept Spike at his neck. "The moment pleasantly frightful when, his mouth suddenly rising, wholly begins with mine fiercely to fool."
The words were orders, edicts that Spike could not refuse. He tore his fangs away from that sweetest spring and found Xander's mouth, letting the boy's own blood lubricate their tongues. Xander nipped and sucked, breaking to gasp and whisper words to break Spike's heart. "And from my thighs which shrug and pant," He said, licking blood away from Spike's lips, "A murdering rain leapingly reaches..."
"The upward singular deepest flower," Spike replied. He captured Xander's lips again, desperate to give the boy his screams of pleasure. The vampire's body crowed and curled, grasping cruelly at Xander's as a pleasure sharp as glass ran him through.
"Which he carries in a gesture of his hips," Xander finished, letting his body find its long-denied release. Spike held him through the convulsing, gasping ecstasy, soothing him with wordless murmurs and kisses.
"Fifty-nine," Xander said, digging his fingers into Spike's hip.
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