![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: In Sunlight or in Shadow (9/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chocgood84
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 overall
Notes: This is a turning fic, and this part in particular has bloodplay and man-shagging – if it squicks you, don’t read!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike, Xander, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did, this wouldn’t be fanfic, it’d be cannon. These belong to Mutant Enemy and its creator, Joss Whedon. No harm, no foul.
Previous parts: here.
Daylight had dawned and faded away once more before Spike and Xander managed to pull themselves from the bed.
Xander opened his eyes to find the bedroom shrouded in the cover of night, the hard vice of Spike’s arms wrapped around him.
He glanced over to find Spike awake, watching him with a smile on his lips and passion in his eyes. Xander returned the smile, rubbing sleep dust out of his eyes with the heel of his palms.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Spike rasped, leaning in and pressing soft lips together, tender and gentle.
“Mmmm…morning my oh-so-sexy vampire lover.” The kiss was returned, and Xander was surprised to find certain parts in the nether region stirring.
“You’re hard, love,” the blonde whispered, nudging his thigh just so, softly rubbing still-tender spots.
“And don’t ask me how that’s possible. Oh wait, I know how: because it’s you in my bed.”
Another kiss and Xander found himself bearing the weight of a particularly spry sex-in-Doc Martins vampire as Spike straddled Xander’s hips, making lazy circles across his bare chest with chalk white and ice cold fingers.
“Spike…oh, God, Spike…” Xander gasped as Spike found the scar on his neck, licking and sucking lightly at the tender skin.
“Mmmm…yesss?” Spike answered, gyrating his hips lightly, a slow grind that sent every hair on Xander’s body standing on end.
“Spike, I don’t – I don’t think I can, love,” he answered truthfully. They had spent the rest of last night and most of the daylight hours doing anything and everything in just about every position imaginable, and some that weren’t. Xander had never had that much sex in his entire life, even with himself. To say he was a bit…oversexed…was an understatement. Not that he wasn’t enjoying…
“No such thing, Xander. All it takes is a little…encouragement.” Spike said, velvet sex in his voice and golden lust in his eyes.
In two seconds flat, Xander found himself inside his mate as Spike impaled himself on his swollen cock. Still slick from the day and night before, Spike slid down with the ease of a well-oiled machine.
That satisfying “thwack” as skin smacked against skin, and both men sucked in a breath, whistling it back out as Spike pulled himself up. Dropped himself again, leaning down and locking his mouth against Xander’s.
They fell into a rhythm akin to a locomotive’s churning wheels, clawing and steaming towards some unknown but altogether heavenly destination. Spike exploded upwards like a rocket, falling just as hard, just as fast. Xander’s hands on his hips, his ribs, his cock – tugging and pulling, teasing and twisting.
Xander’s eyes rolled back into his head and he arched his back, pushing himself further into Spike. No voice left, he silently screamed as climax burned through his body again, wracking it with shakes and tremors no earthquake could counter.
Spike did scream as he felt Xander gouge into him one last time, his body bowing and shaking, filling Spike’s insides with that precious silver ice. All his muscles tensed, his bones locked, his eyes went blind as he let go again and again, draining himself on Xander’s chest, shoulders, face and hair.
Spike collapsed on top of Xander, his still hard cock bobbing between their sticky groins. He felt Xander’s own slowly-deflating cock slip out of him.
Xander finally came down from his orgasmic high, opening his eyes to find Spike smirking down at him, one eyebrow perched high above the other. He wriggled his hips a little, smearing his frigid cum between them.
Beat.
“Okay, maybe I could.”
One hour and two more orgasms later, they emerged from the shower, dripping wet and intent on hunting before further vampsex could be had.
“So, love, where to tonight? Down to the docks for a dope selling drugger, or will it be uptown for a stock broker who likes to take asphyxiation a little too far?” Spike asked, tossing a towel at Xander and drying himself off.
“Don’t know, your pick,” Xander offered, feeling the demon inside him doing a staccato soft-shoe at the prospect of danger, violence, and blood. He finished toweling himself and made his way back to the bedroom, tearing through the closet to find something better than a parrot-print muscle shirt to wear.
“Don’t bother looking, pet. Nothing good in there, I told you before.” Spike followed, picking up his jeans own jeans off the floor. He sniffed slightly and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor. “Time to go pick us up a little something, pet.”
“Spike, it’s one o’clock in the morning, what’s going to be open besides Wally World?” Xander gave an upturned nose at that – he didn’t go there voluntarily when he was human, he damn sure wasn’t going to go now that he was a vampire.
“Who said anything about being open?” Spike asked, wincing as he pulled the stiff jeans on. Xander stared as he watched Spike tuck his cock into the left side and so very carefully zip them up. “See something you like, Xander?”
Xander shook himself and pulled the gray t-shirt of his head, laughing to himself.
“Well yeah, but now I can have it whenever I want,” he replied, crossing to where Spike said and pulling him into a slow exploring kiss.
“I just always thought you carried on the right. All those times I fantasized about ripping your jeans off, it was always on the right.” Xander dropped his hand to cup Spike’s rapidly swelling cock, squeezing firmly through the stiff denim. Spike slapped Xander’s hand away.
“No time for that now, love. Grab some britches, and let’s get, yeah? Sooner we finish, sooner I can shag you back to life.” Spike grinned, pulling one of Xander’s too-small black tank tops over his head.
Xander’s cock twitched at almost everything in that sentence.
“God, when did I go back to being 15? Suddenly even looking at it makes it hard.” He muttered, pulling his orange kakis up and buttoning them. He slipped into a pair of bright red flip-flops. He turned to find Spike grimacing at him.
“What?” He asked a little too sharply.
“Oh nothing, love. Just – not really a ‘creature of the night’ outfit, now is it?”
Xander glanced in the mirror, startled for a moment to find no reflection.
“Alright, you pick out what I should wear then Mr. Fashion. Because black tank tops and jeans four sizes too small are soooo stylish.” Xander rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“Follow my own style, I do.” Spike murmured, sitting on the bed and lacing up his Doc’s.
“So do I,” Xander countered, wishing so hard that Spike wasn’t right.
“No, you follow Crayola’s style.”
Beat.
“Can we go now, I’m hungry!”
“Alright, first we hunt, and then we shop. Wouldn’t be caught alive with someone wearing that. Just hope no other demons see us together, or you’ll have to be punished later.”
“In that case, I hope they do.” Xander snarked as they made their way out of the apartment.
Morning mist was swirling around the pavement when they returned home, packages and bags crammed with shirts, jeans, shoes, coats, and of course, new sheets.
“You know, I know I shouldn’t say this because it was all kinds of wrong, but that was kinda fun.” Xander exclaimed, plopping ungracefully onto the couch in the living room, dropping all his bags to the floor.
“Love,” Spike began, setting his bags next to the door and finding his way to the couch to crawl on top of Xander. “You’re a vampire now, no such thing as wrong.”
Xander wrapped his arms around Spike, enjoying the weight of the older man curled up on his chest, their legs tangled together.
“’Sides, we got you some good stuff. Can’t wait to see you… out of them” Spike purred against Xander’s neck, his hands roaming.
Xander reached his hands down, grabbing handfuls of jean-clad butt cheeks.
“Spike, I don’t think I’m normal…” Xander confessed.
“S’matter, love?” Spike asked, concern in his voice as his hands came to rest on Xander’s chest.
“I just – I don’t know. You keep saying stuff like that…I think, somehow, I still have a conscience. I just didn’t feel right stealing that stuff tonight.” Xander wouldn’t meet Spike’s gaze, could stand to see Spike disappointed in him.
“Xander, love, it’s alright. Trust me, pet, you’re completely and utterly abnormal. S’why I love you, innit?” Spike turned Xander’s face so that their eyes would meet.
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, really. You follow your own path, pet. Your own drummer, and all that. It’s your heart I love. It’s your eyes, your words, your mind. You, Xander. Take it or leave it, love, and I’m taking it all. S’okay you feel bad…s’probably good. One of us has to have a conscience, and gods know it’s not me.” Spike’s eyes told no lies, held only love and trust and please don’t leave me.
Xander sighed, stared into the trustful eyes of this gorgeous man that loved him. Loved him like no one else could, would.
An intense and all-powerful need of lust and touch and want and love came over Xander, and the demon roared inside him craving what only silent touch and burning passion could deliver. Xander stood, cradling Spike in his arms, and practically ran to the bedroom.
As passion and confirmation, possession and the madness of the touch overtook them, Xander vaguely heard a ringing in the distance.
Author:
chocgood84Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 overall
Notes: This is a turning fic, and this part in particular has bloodplay and man-shagging – if it squicks you, don’t read!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike, Xander, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did, this wouldn’t be fanfic, it’d be cannon. These belong to Mutant Enemy and its creator, Joss Whedon. No harm, no foul.
Previous parts: here.
Daylight had dawned and faded away once more before Spike and Xander managed to pull themselves from the bed.
Xander opened his eyes to find the bedroom shrouded in the cover of night, the hard vice of Spike’s arms wrapped around him.
He glanced over to find Spike awake, watching him with a smile on his lips and passion in his eyes. Xander returned the smile, rubbing sleep dust out of his eyes with the heel of his palms.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Spike rasped, leaning in and pressing soft lips together, tender and gentle.
“Mmmm…morning my oh-so-sexy vampire lover.” The kiss was returned, and Xander was surprised to find certain parts in the nether region stirring.
“You’re hard, love,” the blonde whispered, nudging his thigh just so, softly rubbing still-tender spots.
“And don’t ask me how that’s possible. Oh wait, I know how: because it’s you in my bed.”
Another kiss and Xander found himself bearing the weight of a particularly spry sex-in-Doc Martins vampire as Spike straddled Xander’s hips, making lazy circles across his bare chest with chalk white and ice cold fingers.
“Spike…oh, God, Spike…” Xander gasped as Spike found the scar on his neck, licking and sucking lightly at the tender skin.
“Mmmm…yesss?” Spike answered, gyrating his hips lightly, a slow grind that sent every hair on Xander’s body standing on end.
“Spike, I don’t – I don’t think I can, love,” he answered truthfully. They had spent the rest of last night and most of the daylight hours doing anything and everything in just about every position imaginable, and some that weren’t. Xander had never had that much sex in his entire life, even with himself. To say he was a bit…oversexed…was an understatement. Not that he wasn’t enjoying…
“No such thing, Xander. All it takes is a little…encouragement.” Spike said, velvet sex in his voice and golden lust in his eyes.
In two seconds flat, Xander found himself inside his mate as Spike impaled himself on his swollen cock. Still slick from the day and night before, Spike slid down with the ease of a well-oiled machine.
That satisfying “thwack” as skin smacked against skin, and both men sucked in a breath, whistling it back out as Spike pulled himself up. Dropped himself again, leaning down and locking his mouth against Xander’s.
They fell into a rhythm akin to a locomotive’s churning wheels, clawing and steaming towards some unknown but altogether heavenly destination. Spike exploded upwards like a rocket, falling just as hard, just as fast. Xander’s hands on his hips, his ribs, his cock – tugging and pulling, teasing and twisting.
Xander’s eyes rolled back into his head and he arched his back, pushing himself further into Spike. No voice left, he silently screamed as climax burned through his body again, wracking it with shakes and tremors no earthquake could counter.
Spike did scream as he felt Xander gouge into him one last time, his body bowing and shaking, filling Spike’s insides with that precious silver ice. All his muscles tensed, his bones locked, his eyes went blind as he let go again and again, draining himself on Xander’s chest, shoulders, face and hair.
Spike collapsed on top of Xander, his still hard cock bobbing between their sticky groins. He felt Xander’s own slowly-deflating cock slip out of him.
Xander finally came down from his orgasmic high, opening his eyes to find Spike smirking down at him, one eyebrow perched high above the other. He wriggled his hips a little, smearing his frigid cum between them.
Beat.
“Okay, maybe I could.”
One hour and two more orgasms later, they emerged from the shower, dripping wet and intent on hunting before further vampsex could be had.
“So, love, where to tonight? Down to the docks for a dope selling drugger, or will it be uptown for a stock broker who likes to take asphyxiation a little too far?” Spike asked, tossing a towel at Xander and drying himself off.
“Don’t know, your pick,” Xander offered, feeling the demon inside him doing a staccato soft-shoe at the prospect of danger, violence, and blood. He finished toweling himself and made his way back to the bedroom, tearing through the closet to find something better than a parrot-print muscle shirt to wear.
“Don’t bother looking, pet. Nothing good in there, I told you before.” Spike followed, picking up his jeans own jeans off the floor. He sniffed slightly and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor. “Time to go pick us up a little something, pet.”
“Spike, it’s one o’clock in the morning, what’s going to be open besides Wally World?” Xander gave an upturned nose at that – he didn’t go there voluntarily when he was human, he damn sure wasn’t going to go now that he was a vampire.
“Who said anything about being open?” Spike asked, wincing as he pulled the stiff jeans on. Xander stared as he watched Spike tuck his cock into the left side and so very carefully zip them up. “See something you like, Xander?”
Xander shook himself and pulled the gray t-shirt of his head, laughing to himself.
“Well yeah, but now I can have it whenever I want,” he replied, crossing to where Spike said and pulling him into a slow exploring kiss.
“I just always thought you carried on the right. All those times I fantasized about ripping your jeans off, it was always on the right.” Xander dropped his hand to cup Spike’s rapidly swelling cock, squeezing firmly through the stiff denim. Spike slapped Xander’s hand away.
“No time for that now, love. Grab some britches, and let’s get, yeah? Sooner we finish, sooner I can shag you back to life.” Spike grinned, pulling one of Xander’s too-small black tank tops over his head.
Xander’s cock twitched at almost everything in that sentence.
“God, when did I go back to being 15? Suddenly even looking at it makes it hard.” He muttered, pulling his orange kakis up and buttoning them. He slipped into a pair of bright red flip-flops. He turned to find Spike grimacing at him.
“What?” He asked a little too sharply.
“Oh nothing, love. Just – not really a ‘creature of the night’ outfit, now is it?”
Xander glanced in the mirror, startled for a moment to find no reflection.
“Alright, you pick out what I should wear then Mr. Fashion. Because black tank tops and jeans four sizes too small are soooo stylish.” Xander rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“Follow my own style, I do.” Spike murmured, sitting on the bed and lacing up his Doc’s.
“So do I,” Xander countered, wishing so hard that Spike wasn’t right.
“No, you follow Crayola’s style.”
Beat.
“Can we go now, I’m hungry!”
“Alright, first we hunt, and then we shop. Wouldn’t be caught alive with someone wearing that. Just hope no other demons see us together, or you’ll have to be punished later.”
“In that case, I hope they do.” Xander snarked as they made their way out of the apartment.
Morning mist was swirling around the pavement when they returned home, packages and bags crammed with shirts, jeans, shoes, coats, and of course, new sheets.
“You know, I know I shouldn’t say this because it was all kinds of wrong, but that was kinda fun.” Xander exclaimed, plopping ungracefully onto the couch in the living room, dropping all his bags to the floor.
“Love,” Spike began, setting his bags next to the door and finding his way to the couch to crawl on top of Xander. “You’re a vampire now, no such thing as wrong.”
Xander wrapped his arms around Spike, enjoying the weight of the older man curled up on his chest, their legs tangled together.
“’Sides, we got you some good stuff. Can’t wait to see you… out of them” Spike purred against Xander’s neck, his hands roaming.
Xander reached his hands down, grabbing handfuls of jean-clad butt cheeks.
“Spike, I don’t think I’m normal…” Xander confessed.
“S’matter, love?” Spike asked, concern in his voice as his hands came to rest on Xander’s chest.
“I just – I don’t know. You keep saying stuff like that…I think, somehow, I still have a conscience. I just didn’t feel right stealing that stuff tonight.” Xander wouldn’t meet Spike’s gaze, could stand to see Spike disappointed in him.
“Xander, love, it’s alright. Trust me, pet, you’re completely and utterly abnormal. S’why I love you, innit?” Spike turned Xander’s face so that their eyes would meet.
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, really. You follow your own path, pet. Your own drummer, and all that. It’s your heart I love. It’s your eyes, your words, your mind. You, Xander. Take it or leave it, love, and I’m taking it all. S’okay you feel bad…s’probably good. One of us has to have a conscience, and gods know it’s not me.” Spike’s eyes told no lies, held only love and trust and please don’t leave me.
Xander sighed, stared into the trustful eyes of this gorgeous man that loved him. Loved him like no one else could, would.
An intense and all-powerful need of lust and touch and want and love came over Xander, and the demon roared inside him craving what only silent touch and burning passion could deliver. Xander stood, cradling Spike in his arms, and practically ran to the bedroom.
As passion and confirmation, possession and the madness of the touch overtook them, Xander vaguely heard a ringing in the distance.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
Hmmm. Nice.
Was it eeevil of me to read this bit before the rest of the story?
From:
no subject
Me, I'm usually terrible about reading the last paragraph/page of a book before I start it.
From:
no subject
“No, you follow Crayola’s style.”
*snickers* I could so see Spike saying that to him. And aww, Xander's heart! Loved the vulnerability Spike and Xander showed. So sweet!
And the ringing can't possibly be any good. Looking forward to more!!
~Nebula
From:
no subject
More next week!
Thanks, honey!
From:
no subject
so now, I'm wondering, are they gonna meet back up with the sunnydale gang, or perhaps angel? Cuz that could be interesting.
From:
no subject
From:
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