Five Golden Rings
by Josie_h
Notes
<<<<<<<<< Amicitia
quod Solor (Friendship and Solace) >>>>>>>>>
What was Harris on about? He *was* sensitive to
‘slayer central’ decorum but Spike was becoming increasingly agitated by the
apparent need to constantly ‘justify’ to the entire household, the shift from
mutual antagonism to solid close friendship that Xander and he were
experiencing. He figured it was wartime now. Any affection displayed should
simply be seen as caring and sharing with a mate, natural friendship between
fellow soldiers, nobles oblige – that sort of thing. Oh sod it – even the
Greeks ‘n Romans knew that.
Leaning up toward the open basement door, Spike shook
his head, wondered at his level of desperation then bellowed for the second
time, “Bloody hell Harris! Will you just get down
here…. Got summit to show you …..is all.”
So it came out like a demand, rather than the intended
invitation. Spike pursed his lips, and spun to pace again, hands on hips,
returning to the stairwell as an afterthought….. “And don’t blooming-well bring
anyone else with you either – just you Harris, got it ?!”
The consequent sound of feet on the basement stairs
were definitely female.
[Ahhh Bugger!]
“Hey Man….Are you seriously trying to push these guys
to stake you? ‘Cause gotta say Spike….. doin’ a damn fine job… What’s with the
yelling?”
Faith – at last, a bint with more than two brain cells
still functioning.
“ ‘Lo Pet, didn’t mean to disturb you… Just fixin’ to
give the injured lad a bit of a surprise, y’ know, ‘boys
at the local’ type moment. You reckon you can keep the troops away for the
duration?”
After a minute to interpret Spike-speak, she smiled at
the former ‘Big Bad’s’ thoughtfulness and replied, “Yeah, ‘s cool. I’ll find
the man, but you gotta promise me to go a little easy on him, no betting
kittens or whatever, yeah?”
“ ’Course,….. just trying to cheer the lad up … figure
one eye, no disadvantage in this game.”
Faith, was quietly touched by the vampire’s obvious
concern for Xander, shrugged her shoulders, then stated “So long as I get to
use it and kick you ass later”.
She eyed Spike’s new addition to the subterranean
space with some jealousy. Consoling herself with the thought that Spike might
enjoy going a round or two with ‘someone else’ tomorrow, then headed back up to
find the still recovering Xander.
Spike heard the pad of bare male feet on the steps,
eyes betraying the self satisfied smile that was currently hidden by the
‘unreadable’ expression he had worked so hard to perfect. He knew that Andrew
insisted on wearing his ‘slippers’ in the house, Giles’ loafers never seemed to
come off [wonder if he has sex in them?] Spike quickly shook off the thought
and concentrated on the task at hand…
“Spike?” Xander had one hand firmly planted on the
railing and as its proud - and now thankful – creator noted the solid pine and
craftsmanship. The unaccustomed tilt of his head to ‘judge the steps’ threw off
his balance a little, and a residual shakiness from the anesthetic and ‘meds’
highlighted his awareness of status as invalid. Xander tried to straighten and
look casual as he began a monologue, more to calm his own nerves than sound
witty.
“What? You needing to check if us optically challenged
types can ‘do stairs’ or something? Well just FYI, human seeing in the dark?
Really not affected by depth perception. Hello, just challenged in the number
of eyes department not the brain c…..” Xander
halted at the last landing.
He was greeted by the image of a cigarette touting
Spike, clad in the usual black jeans and t-shirt, casually leaning against a
pool table, twirling a pool cue.
“Hardly think I’d have you down here for the fun of it
did you? Just figured someone should rescue you from the carers for a bit…. ‘s
only so much bloody Florence Nightingale a bloke can handle before going
balmy…. You up for a game?”
Xander could have sworn he heard genuine concern in
the tone, mused that ‘The Big Bad’ really was slipping these days, swiftly
concluded that the additional soulfulness and too many hours of ‘Passions’
could probably do that to a guy, then shook off all such thoughts to make his way
toward the object of ‘pub’ desire.
“When did you…?”
“Bronze, yesterday.” Spike grinned, satisfied that the
lad was obviously impressed.
“Seeing as the lovely folks of this here city are
movin’ on, figured they wouldn’t be needin it, so might as well have it down
here. Fixed us with a few free beers as well, as they were on offer.” The
vampire pointed casually at the corner of the basement where several cartons of
welcome amber liquid awaited attention.
“You went looting??”
“Who said anythin’ about looting - this is *clearly*
requisitioning in times of war!”
Xander’s feigned annoyance was ruined by the broad
smile as he captured Spike’s spinning cue, and positioned himself to casually
break the new game ‘triangle’ with the white ball.
“Very suave, you git! Care to inform a chap prior
stealing his nearest and dearest next time?!” Spike’s mock agitation was
accompanied by eyes twinkling with relief and enjoyment as he recognized a
confident, good natured friend replacing the self conscious, maimed Xander who
had resided upstairs since the vineyard ‘skirmish’.
Xander lined up a shot easily, good eye sighting down
the cue, and tipped the number five ball expertly into a waiting pocket, his
choice of “Smalls” defining Spike’s game objective.
“Don’t think I need to try out for the Special
Olympics just yet, Bleach boy. The pirate chic makeover is simply to put the
great undead off their game.”
“Oh please, sinking the first ball does *not* get you
out of the needy basket, Cyclops. So what’s the wager?”
“You are *so* not going to get me down here just to do
me out of beer money in the middle of an apocalypse Spike!”
Spike leaned back on a wall casually, lit another
cigarette and caught Xander’s eye through the new smoke, answering quietly and
very seriously, “No mate, really just wanted to do som’t for a comrade ‘s all.
Least I can do right? Couldn’t take out preacher boy in time… ” Spike trailed
off, looked at the floor, then snapped from melancholy to wiggle a suggestive
eyebrow and add with a smirk, “ ‘Sides, figure you’re hardly good for the
family silver.”
Spike pocketed his first ball with nonchalant ease,
took a second, then stepped back to wait his turn, “Well mate, why don’t you
and I just pretend the rest of the world don’t exist while we’re down here
then. No harm, no foul and all that rot….?”
It was Xander’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He had
expected some additional agenda – or at least a mildly sarcastic remark but
looked around to see a fellow fighter, equally convinced that their imminent
demise might be at hand and keen to share the denial of that same possibility.
Spike flicked the small CD player on, and drowned out any female footfalls from
upstairs with a surprisingly inoffensive blues number.
Spying the bemused look of his companion, he simply
commented “Figured you’re not one for Messers Rotten and Co…. Well
have the courtesy to not look *so* surprised would you!”
<<<<<< Of Obscurum quod moeror (of darkness and grief) >>>>>>>
Some three beers and four games later the score stood
at two games all (with Spike graciously ‘missing’ several obvious shots). The
mood had shifted to one distinctly less adversarial, and discussion sliding
toward easy reflection. Xander was currently staring at Spike’s fine boned
fingers caressing the neck of his fourth beer. They were scholar’s hands and
now distinctly devoid of their customary silver adornment, bracelet missing and
all rings apparently replaced by a single gold one. With the slow down in play
at this late hour, the lull in conversation was edging toward awkward, he
decided to risk filling ‘the gap’.
“ K …. Worst and Best…..”
“Sorry?”
“Worst and Best experiences, Willow and I used to do
it – you pick a day of the year and tell the worst and best memories …”
Spike exhaled loudly, stared at the ceiling, sighed
heavily again, decided that present company was preferable to a silent
basement, despite the request for a ‘reveal the real me’ conversation.
Apparently preparing for the worst as balls were racked ready for a new game,
he stared at the formation for some time, finally muttering under his breath,
“Five Gold Rings – bloody Christmas carol.”
Xander hardly caught the words but couldn’t miss the
tone, and wondered at his own stupidity as his pool partner flashed him a
pained look. Playing Confessions 101 with a hundred and twenty something,
ensouled vampire might not prove the most jovial accompaniment to a pool game.
“Hey, dumb idea, leave it... we don’t need to do the
share a thing….” His voice tapered off as Spike began to talk quietly. The
blonde was staring at some unknown point in the dark corner of the basement
with both hands clasped tightly around the pool cue, repetitively twisting the
garnet and gold ring on his middle finger.
“The darkness and damnation of December.”
Xander had the courtesy to look puzzled but remained
silent.
“Fifth day of Christmas, 1861 - bloody awful year,
foggy and raining for nigh on seven months… any wind from the south carrying
the stench of Thames mud all across London. Putrid sewer in those days… Father
died on that day, typhus they said, same thing as killed the Queen’s better
half ‘pparently. Must’ve picked on blokes called
Albert that year.”
His voice hitched a little and the commentary paused
just long enough for Xander to recognize the wry statement as a well rehearsed,
stiff upper lip, auto response.
“Was always just the two of us for Christmas after
that, no flashy fare or visitin’. Remember the present that year though....
Mother wasn’t much for presents ‘course – too common or some such… always gave
me one...Never missed…. That
year she wrapped it in one of his kerchiefs with a black ribbon - father’s
familial ring. She insisted I put it on, told me I wasn’t to cry ‘cause I was the
man of the house now, then took to her bed. Never seen a person hurt like that
before.….Had to wear the thing on my thumb for ages.”
“God Spike, how old were you?”
Dark lashes lifted to reveal blue eyes brimming with
barely contained tears, “Seven.”
Xander reached out reflexively, placed a warm hand on
the shoulder of the story teller, and was met with a clear glimpse of the
grieving young William in Spike’s expression. Momentarily leaning toward the
touch, Spike recognized the comfort offered for what it was, and graced Xander
with an appreciative, openly thankful, half smile.
“Your turn mate…. ‘s your game and I’m *not* doin’ the
Dr Phil thing without you getting in on the act… without some reciprocity
here!”
Mood effectively broken, Xander shifted to the table
and following Spike’s conversation quipped, “Gotta watch those five syllable
words Spike, wouldn’t want folks knowing you’re well educated or anything!”
“Master bloody vampire mate, course I’m educated! Some
poncy bugger Angelus made sure of that – not to mention a hundred or so years
on me savvy onesy”
“Save the pirate speak Spike, we all know you’re a
librarian in disguise.” This time the good humor and slight relief that they
were back on the usual banter was conveyed in the smiling eyes.
“Oi! None o’ that! Here’s me barin’ me soul and you
start in with the aspersions.”
“Thank you for coming ladies and gentlemen of the
jury, I rest my case! Behold, the scholar!”
“Oh please!” Spike took a stab at the white ball,
effectively scattered the contents of the table, and sank one of Xander’s balls
along two of his own.
“So, worst or best….
Audience is waitin’ here.”
Xander saw the flick of yellow through the usual blue
of the vampire’s human face and knew he needed to continue the game he’d started
without further delay.
“K, Christmas…. Not really the fifth day I guess – but
this is kind of the best and worst story I can think of at the moment –
besides, short of ‘Lord of…’ it’s the only ring story I can think of to segway
with….” Xander suddenly realized he was babbling rather
than telling, paused, took a breath and then began again.
“I guess it’s the last Christmas I remember with
family around – not just the oldies, but you know, a *whole* family, aunts,
uncles, tree, that sort of thing….” He took
another shot, missed, then turned his back on the game and continued.
“She was the Aunt with the moustache – Agnes – hated
her name, but she was my mom’s aunt… and she always smelled of violets for some
reason. Her hug was all about acceptance and belonging; I remember getting lost
in it, cause my ears had gotten blocked with warm flesh; I swear I was the
youngest person to say a prayer for support bras – was the only thing that kept
me breathing courtesy of the gap commonly termed ‘cleavage’!
“Her arms had big soft layers underneath – and they
seemed to cover your whole body… and she always called me her ‘favourite
boy’…..” Spike was shaken from his thoughts of similar cherished yet long dead
relatives, by the sight of two crystal tears tracking from Xander’s good eye.
“She was always knitting or embroidering something…
That Christmas she gave me my first ring ever, straight from her sewing kit -
think it was actually left overs from making curtains or something…. I remember
being *so* pleased ‘cause I was looking through the bag with all her crafty
bits and found it and she just handed it over… was shiny, and I knew not really
gold, but it looked like the one Willow wore…so had to be a valuable on some
level.”
At this point Xander paused to mumble, “God I haven’t
thought of this in years…
“Anyway we never saw her again after that year, Dad
managed to yell at her *and* piss off the rest of the family in some stupid row
over the relative real estate values in Sunnydale verses LA. Mum blamed the
‘punch’ later – but even at six I could count by twos so long as it was gin
bottles.
“ No one would come near us after that and the
holidays kind of took a down turn……
“Found out she died a couple of years ago – would have
liked to say thanks before… y’ know.”
It was Xander’s turn to take comfort. Spike recognized
the combined scent of loss and long borne misery rolling from the boy, so did
the same thing as worked for his own mother, swiftly pulling the lad into a
tight embrace and holding fast.
The tacit permission from a friend – albeit soul
possessed demon – simply served to open floodgates. Xander’s silent release,
soon escalated to body wracking sobs for himself, his aunt, and the whole mess
that his life had apparently been to date.
Hitched breathing quietened and between hiccups Xander
managed to grind out “Lost the ring, came home after school one time and Mom
had cleaned away it from under my pillow. Said it was ‘just as well’ when I got
a bit upset…” Another tear was accompanied by a sigh as Spike sat them both
down on his bed and continued to gently stroke the broad back.
They stayed in that position for some time until
finally Xander sniffed, wiped his nose on a sleeve, then without looking
directly at Spike, straightened and moved to leave.
“Hey….Spike…. um….. thanks, uhhh sorry ‘bout the um,
weepage…..”
“You don’t mention it again pet and neither will I.”
The answer sounded casual but when Xander glanced up, he found genuine concern
in the eyes of his erstwhile masseuse.
“Thanks….. night Spike.” With that Xander plodded up
the stairs, opening the door to the unwelcome cacophony of high pitched voices.
<<<<<<<Admiratio quod motum
(surprise and
affection)>>>>>>>
The following afternoon, Xander quietly bowed out of
the ‘crisis’ meeting upstairs that had somehow degenerated from battle strategy
to slanging match over the ‘morality of eating the last one of someone else’s
popovers’ and ‘naming etiquette’ for freezer contents. Obviously critical in
their battle plans for defeating the original evil….*or not*! Xander
ventured down to the private ‘pool room’ – noting the addition of dart board
and two strategically placed billiard table lamps ‘jerry rigged’ to the cross
beam and obviously non compliant with just about any municipal electricity
safety law he could think of. He couldn’t help smiling at the handy-vamp of the
month – fondly remembering that there had been a crypt with hot and cold
running television not so long ago.
Spike was already well on his way through a third beer
playing solo, lined up a shot, and struck perfectly as Xander descended the
last two steps. Having spent the better part of three hours earlier in the day
trying to reassure a certain head slayer of her self worth and capacity to
‘soldier on’ in the face of adversity, Spike was genuinely pleased to hear the
click of the basement door and careful male footfalls signaling casual company
and the distraction of a game or three.
“Pretty sure Churchill managed to avoid the pop tart
policy meeting prior to D-Day,” the player causally quipped as Xander moved to
retrieve a cue from the rack, newly tacked to an adjacent wall.
“Figured you’d give me the ‘wide berth’ after
yesterday…..” Spike took the lit cigarette from his lips and wave a vague
‘whatever that was last night’ sign in Xander’s general direction.
“Hope you appreciate the new décor by the way.…”
distracting himself gesticulating at the additions to the ‘Billiard Room’
interior.
“Hey Spike, look….. we could all be dead in a few days
right – well obviously you have the jump on that status but…. Last night….
Well….. thanks, OK? “ Xander, for a moment looked like the sheepish Scoobie of
old – but for the patch. The battle scar that would endure as ultimate reminder
of his innocence lost…..
“Ah hell Harris… just get your tight ass over here and
gimme a decent game would ya?!”
Xander grinned, nodded, then proceeded to knock three
balls pocket bound in quick succession.
“Ohh, ho! ‘Pot Black Master’ has arrived, I see!
Thousand ‘pologies mate - mistook you for a one eyed donut boy from Sunnyhell.”
Xander feigned horror at the suggestion, but
immediately followed with an open and genuine smile as single brown eye met a
blue pair directly. Spike unwittingly dropped his gaze in an uncharacteristic
move reminiscent of William’s shyness, and retrospectively hoped the boy hadn’t
realized his embarrassing slip.
Trouble was, Spike had been alone since the lad
stomped upstairs yesterday. All by his ‘savvy one-sy’ …again, left to ponder
the previous day’s confessional and consequent embrace. In every incarnation,
Spike had been a tactile creature, and truth be known, one who reveled in
expressing his feelings, of all varieties, blatantly. The difficulty lay in the
boy offering him an opportunity to reveal the past in relative safety, but to
bloody well follow it with warm, supportive touches, no wonder too much of the
‘real William’ had spilled out.
The reciprocal rescuing embrace from the pain for the
younger man could only be seen as natural reaction. Problem was, as the day
progressed, Spike oscillated between dismissal of all things ‘emotional’ and a
growing, and now desperate desire to connect. Impending doom notwithstanding,
there was *something else* there. This
was no longer one of the Slayer’s lackeys, age and life had molded a
courageous, loyal and capable man. Impending probable demise at the hand of the
First seemed to have distilled what was ‘important’ for them both.
Thoughts of Angelus, Dru, even Buffy, only served to
highlight that Spike needed the touch of another person right now, to feel….
Love of any variety (apparently now brunette colored and in the ‘carpenter’
package) prior to departure from this plane, was fast becoming an agenda
needing attention. And though gender had never been an issue, he wasn’t so sure
of Xander’s inclinations in such matters.
The rest of the day had been spent reading bits of the
Illiad, sipping JD and contemplating his moth-like attraction to dark haired
individuals over the centuries.
“You still in there Spike?”
Spike snapped from his reverie, realized his
borderline brood and turned to face his… friend.
“What
you reckon, can we do a proper wager so’s I might divest you of land, liberty
or shirt off your back?”
“Information”
“Come again mate?”
“Information Spike – you know, I’ll wager you a truth
or dare. Winner gets to ask or set the task.”
“Not much I don’t already know ‘bout you pet.”
“Oh I have depths buddy, you’re looking at onion guy
here, plenty of unknowns…. And hey! Who says you’re going to do all the asking
anyway?”
“Y banter’s is breathtaking luv… Can we just get on
with the bloody game?”
An hour later and Spike found himself distracted
watching the other player move around the table with growing fascination. So
much so, that he genuinely lost the game.
“K….. Truth”
“You’ve *got* to be joking!”
“Nope, c’mon Spike pay up….. Look I’ll make it easy….
Tell me your..um… all time favourite Christmas.”
“Alright whelp but we keep playing yeah? And the
teller requires another beer.”
Xander grabbed another ‘Bronze donated’ bottle from
the bar fridge, threw it to Spike, then proceeded to extract balls from their
channel under the table and set up for a new round.
“London 1895, us living it rich in a huge old place
just east of Hyde Park, plenty of servants in those days – strictly speaking,
minions but hey, ‘s long as someone did the dirty work, right?!”
“You were a vamp by then?”
“Too bloody right mate – favored childe in the most
famous line in Europe and 15 years of fledging done with.”
Spike leaned forward and took a shot before continuing
his ‘truth’.
“Member doin’ endless parties then, rich folks always
tasted of port and champagne that time of year…. Easy pickin’s.”
“First I say eww, then I put the 3 in the top pocket.”
Spike took another swig of beer and continued, “Yeah
well, truth you said…
“Darla and Dru insisted on a tree that year, huge
monstrosity, covered it in red and black bows then near set the bloody thing
alight when Dru lit candles all ‘round it.”
“So far, *so* not seeing a point here Spike – thought
the request was for ‘best ever’ Christmas. You’re not telling me you got off on
tree having?”
“Patience pet, workin’ up to it yeah… Christmas night
the girls headed out on their own, Angelus and I were left to our own devices…
Loved running with him in those days, bloody magnificent…
“Hunted southside that night – docks always good for a
quick, cheap meal – then took a ride ‘round the city, just him and me. He told
me then…. that after 15 years I was still his favourite, pulled a ring off his
own hand and put it in mine, then kissed me good and proper…. Was like kissing
God…. “ Spike’s voice lowered as he trailed off, “Ancestral seal of Aurelius on
my finger, and kissed by my god…”
Xander, who had been transfixed and motionless for the
last few seconds, knocked his own cue. As it
clattered to the ground, Spike was pulled abruptly to the present, sniffed,
looked over at Xander and shrugged.
“Yeah, well….. gods come and go, I guess”
Lost in his own thoughts, Xander pondered his own
‘favorite moments of ‘seasons to be jolly’. He finally settled on the ‘boys’
Christmas in junior high school when he and Jesse had taken a tent and set up
camp in his backyard. They had exchanged gifts, filled up on sugary goodness,
and talked for most of the night. He remembered waking comfortably spooned
behind his best friend, both still in sleeping bags, and Jesse hadn’t asked him
to move. All had seemed right in the world at that moment.
“C’mon you git – I win, pay up!”
“Wha..?” Xander hadn’t even noticed that play had
continued let alone he’d lost this round “Oh… sure, um…”
“I said dare… Dare you to do something that you’ve
always wanted to try but never had the nerve. Has to be in this room – oh…. and
*no* staking the help!”
Xander thought for a moment, grinned wickedly, then
moved to stand directly in front of Spike swiftly leaned forward and placed a
chaste but confident kiss on the vampire’s lips. He stopped momentarily to note
the rather stunned look on the blonde’s face but then matched it with one of
his own as a cool hand slid up to caress the nape of his neck and pulled them
together once more. This time, a cool tongue ventured over his lower lip pushing
for entry, once granted, Xander completely lost himself in the moment, allowing
loneliness and fear to translate to a passionate exchange.
They finally broke contact and stepped back a little,
both somewhat ‘thrown’.
Spike finally clearing his throat and venturing a
barely audible “Was nice pet, must say, unexpected….. but nice.”
“Yeah well, guess I dared, huh.”
“Care to dare again sometime?”
At this Xander looked up to see an eyebrow wiggle and
a mischievous glint in the smaller man’s eyes – but there was also a true
fondness there. He wondered how he had failed to noticed that before.
<<<<<<<< Fidelitas quod
Fides (Loyalty and Trust)
>>>>>>>>>
A rather disgruntled Xander stomped down the stairs
for the third time that day. After the confusing incident with Spike in the
afternoon, he’d removed himself from the basement to spend some time pondering
the meaning of the ‘vampire-kissage and the liking-of-the-same’.
The ‘ladies’ upstairs seemed to have decided it best
for Xander to stay out of the ‘line of fire’. Anya
vehemently pointing out that his seniority as Scooby was outweighed by his
human fallibility and injury, suggesting rather loudly that he was now ‘neither
asset nor ornament’ in battle and therefore had no place in the strategy
meetings. The last straw came when Andrew suggested he “go get some shut eye –
pun intended” which had actually drawn some sniggers from the younger slayers.
Xander had retreated from the meeting without comment.
He was genuinely enjoying the time with Spike and
figured they might as well expand their repertoire of activity to include
snacks and movies. Still needing one hand on the rail when descending steps,
Xander had taken two trips to carry in the supplies.
“Hey, be nice to the man with the entertainment and
give us a hand with these would you?”
“Sure mate, just tryin’ to get the bloody DVD hooked –
what ya got anyway? Not watching another bloody Arni flick with you!”, adding
almost as an afterthought “Yanks never *could* do comedy!”
“Oh ye of little faith… or global understanding! You
happen to be looking at a proud life member of the ‘Geeks of Sunnydale’, and!
Black Adder ‘aficionado’.” Xander punctuated the statement by depositing the
collection of Atkins, Python and Red Dwarf DVD’s mid table of play.
Spike’s trademark look of derision, though short
lived, left Xander no choice but to move the offending pile to beside the
television, not before noting that the vampire’s gaze had casually catalogued
the titles for later ‘viewing on demand’. It was Xander’s turn to smirk.
The dart game had been far more enjoyable than
expected, with Xander discovering his friendly vampire to be quite ticklish,
twice managing to cause his opponent the embarrassment of missing the board
completely.
“Bloody hell, you sodding cheat Harris! That’s it!!
Keep your hands to yourself or I’ll rip your arms from their sockets and use
them to beat you to death!” Spike’s eyes flashed gold, though it wasn’t until he
saw the crestfallen demeanor and registered a genuine apology that he realised
that something else might be amiss.
He watched as Xander made his way to Spike’s cot and
sat down heavily.
Spike dropped the ‘annoyed’ act and moved to sit
beside him.
“s OK mate, was just kidding ‘n all….. but I figure
you got some’t else on your mind.. Care to share?”
A litany of stories of rejections, lost friendships
and fears sprang forth, finally ending with his frustration over a lost eye and
his now ‘unwelcome status’ upstairs plus a general desperation for friendship
and connection.
Spike watched as the boy calmed again, noting that he
repeatedly twisted a gold wedding band obviously kept after the botched
ceremony with vengeance-girl and wondered what drove the need to keep that
symbol of bad times.
“Know what pet – you need to let things settle for a
while yeah.” He flicked on one of the ‘Adder’ DVDs, deliberately left the sound
low and shifted the conversation to something more distracting.
An hour or so later, Spike
blew a thin plume of smoke upward then exhaled the rest hard and stabbed out
the cigarette – apparently resolved. They had been discussing their most
unusual climaxes – goodness knows why, thought Spike – the lad was as boring as
blanc mange in the vampiric picture of carnal relations! Still, he’d listened
with patience, only once letting the highly bemused look permeate an otherwise
unreadable poker face. (Fortunately the lad had been so engrossed in his story
of ‘Cordy and the broom closet’, that he failed to notice the raised eyebrow
and incredulous smirk.)
In the light of this
discussion, Xander continued to mull over his own response to the kiss that
afternoon. Finally asking Spike if they could talk about ‘it’.
“What the hell is ‘it’?”
“You know, ‘it’ Spike… the
whole gay loving thing. The kiss on the lips ‘it’. The ‘it’ between vampires…..
I mean you do seem to have ‘broader tastes’ than me and God… there is so much I
haven’t tried …. and…. damn Spike – I really liked ‘it’. And was just thinking
that….”
“Oh hell Harris, there’s
nothin’ wrong with a couple of fellas distracting ‘mselves in the middle of a
war with a bit of personal exploration.”
Spike turned to face Xander
directly “Look, do you trust me? Then we do this my way, ‘n real slow for the
breakable human, yeah?”
Xander nodded, looked down
at his hands and muttered “I really do…. Trust you, you know.”
“Well good, because you’re
gonna have to trust me lying down………Told you – takin’ it slow, now strip off
and lie on your front”
Spike busied himself on the
other side of the basement while Xander did as instructed with relative
privacy.
Face in a pillow that
smelled vaguely of Spike, Xander felt the bed dip as Spike moved beside him and
lightly stroked his back. When there was no flinch or protest, Spike began to
massage it in earnest. He leaned over and grabbed a bottle of oil from the
floor by the bed, dropped a generous amount into his hand and proceeded to
dribble the cool fluid into the small of the back.
Despite the obviously
relaxed status, the boy’s muscles bore the tension of months of worry, fighting
and very real fear. They were the strong, thick muscles of a man who had worked
manually hard; muscles that had seen too much hunting and protecting; muscles
that were strengthened by pain. Spike’s thumbs systematically relieved the
tension across the tanned shoulders, followed on to neck and nape of hair, all
tended with strong caring strokes. Finally the back was kneaded from base to
skull, always pressing hands tenderly from out to in.
Confident in the contented
human clay of his creation, Spike finally straddled the prone figure and began
to acquaint himself with the maleness of these limbs. Nice to feel thick
muscles again, he focused in on the rhythm of his own hands… it had been a long
time since he’d ‘treated’ another body like this – even longer since that body
was male – and there was ‘a line’ that needed to be tested each time before
being crossed.
He paused as he found
Xander’s upper thigh, leant down and whispered “Is this still OK?... I can
stop….?” The tentative question
linked to his own unwritten rule – this could *only* happen if the friend still
welcomes it – because no games were to be played, no extra agendas sanctioned,
this was about adding pure physical pleasure to the genuine burgeoning
friendship – a gift given with grace; the touches exclusive to this someone
special; all were ‘consent only’ actions. Xander implicitly understood, nodded
slightly, then relaxed further into the bed and groaned out a welcoming, “s’
OK.”
Educated fingers began to
work the inner thigh, higher and higher finding the folds and creases, then
moving out again to work the tension from the hamstrings and up to the lower
back.
Xander relaxed into the firm
rhythmic touch… his masseuse leaned forward and whispered into his ear….
“Is it still OK?......Do you
want to play – I mean…are you up to it…. or you wanna be done?”…..
A very quiet “Hmmm..s’ OK” indicated
some sort of agreement, so he moved down the legs further… His massage
recipient felt the hands begin to gently knead and rub around tender knees,
then focus on the strong calves, back up and down…..
It was dark when he woke
some hour or so later to the surprising feeling that an index finger was slowly
etching a figure eight around his balls, careful never to apply pressure, while
another hand continued its firm path over the small of his back and down each
leg in turn. Spike sensed the boy’s return from slumber and could feel he was
struggling not to react, but the slow pulse that throbbed near his fingers
betrayed the body and its growing interest…..
Leaning forward, Spike ran
his tongue along the tip of the boy’s ear then whispered “Hey, figure from what
you said that you have never done this with another bloke yeah? So, happy to
stop if you want… You need to go back to sleep or would you up for adventure?”
A very relaxed groan into
the bed covers was the only reply….
Still not sure he had a
‘yes’, he gently bit Xander’s ear lobe, heard the hiss of approval then watched
with a grin when arms moved above Xander’s head as he simultaneously rolling
onto his back
“So…. You let me do the
drivin’ yeah….? We stop as soon as you want luv – your call.”
One hand traced circles down
the tanned torso while the other teased Xander’s left nipple, at the same time
the right nipple was laved by a willing tongue then the hand and mouth swapped
– this time alternately sucking hard then biting delicately. All the while
Spike’s second hand moved to stroke slowly down between muscular buttocks and
around increasingly sensitive groin – always careful to avoid the boy’s
obviously growing erection.…
Spike slithered down the
body until his nose was nestled in the patch of wirey dark curls and evidence
of Xander’s interest, just within touching distance… for his tongue.
“Here is something that
should be familiar… though I still reckon a bloke has a better idea of what
works.” With that he pressed his tongue flat on the root of the erection, and
measured its length in a series of hard licks. It occurred to Xander that the
tongue felt cool and for some reason, much wetter than that of other partners,
and even more strange – he was not in the least concerned that it was Spike.
Xander reveled in the
delicious sensations. He was just beginning to log the ‘differences’ with other
partners when all such comparisons ceased, and he gasped as Spike took mushroom
top into his mouth and teased the very end with tiny flicks the tongue. The
cool lips proceeded to purse gently, gripping the ridge and tickling the
underside of the head lightly with a simple shift of lip muscles, then finally,
released grinning, as Xander pushed unconsciously forward seeking more contact.
Spike repeated the act, heard a sigh, the finally starting long sweeping (and
satisfying!) strokes up the entire length. Each pass to the top saw him swirl
his tongue around the tip again, then flick across the small slit, deliberately
lapping circles over the vein as he traced it back to curls for another pass.
Xander was struggling for control as he felt a hand cup then pressed his balls
gently toward his body, suddenly realizing the truth in Spike’s claim of same
anatomy advantages in a lover.
Spike’s tongue departed, and
Xander’s quiet murmur of disappointment was short lived as his balls were in
turn, engulfed in the cool mouth, sucked, laved by a firm confident tongue,
then left as a trail was licked back up his body concluding in a whisper in his
ear.
“K that’s your starters pet,
seems like you enjoyed it, yeah? … Still, up for something new? Promise you’ll
like it….” The tongue pausing momentarily before continuing its trace around
the ear, down behind the lobe then tickled a trail down the adjoining neck as Spike
coated fingers with some sweet smelling cream that had apparently just
‘appeared’ on the side table. Xander’s now rather distant thoughts registered
raspberry….
Spike pressed the heel of
his hand lightly onto the evidence of the boy’s arousal, he paused to caress
the side of the shaft with a feather-light touches using the back of his hand
then continued on down. He shivered at the feeling of the cold substance as
Spike moved the fingers down the crease of his backside and toward the puckered
entrance, sliding them deliberately over his perineum and stroking the
sensitive skin.
Xander bit his lip in
anticipation, suspecting what was coming next, but still let out a low groan
when a lubricated finger pushed past sensitive pucker and cool mouth took his
whole length to the back of a throat then slowly retreated to the tip.
Sphincter muscles clamped down against the invasion and he threw his head back,
panting a little for breath. It was (were he to be honest) a little more bold
than expected, though nothing he and Anya had not tried before.
Spike leaned back up….
"Relax for me" he whispered, and began to stroke his new bed buddy
from the inside with one finger. With his other hand, he teased the underside
of the erection with feather light touch in an achingly slow tempo up and down
the vein, then placed his mouth back on and took the shaft fully to the back of
his throat swallowed, then sucked as hard as he could.
Spike’s lustful groan during
this act sent a shiver through Xander, also letting him relax around the
intruding digit. Timing the withdrawal of the finger with a particularly strong
down stroke of his mouth, more lotion was added to the invading digits. Before
he could tense up again, two fingers slid inside. Spike stilled for a moment to
let Xander adjust then commenced a slow movement in and out, perfectly matching
the rhythm made by the mouth taking his solid erection deep to the depths of
his cool throat. Xander’s world jolted as the encasing throat swallowed hard….
Spike’s other hand was busy
roaming, alternating fluttering touches with firm pinches and light scratches,
teasing already sensitive nipples, left to right then tickling a track down to
his navel. The hand circled the belly button then moved down to find an inner
thigh.
Spike began to thrust harder
with his fingers crooking them slightly as he went, seeking the magical point
to demonstrate to his charge *exactly why* the male body enjoyed this. He felt
for the firm internal nub, stroked it hard and sent bolts of pleasure through
his charge. Xander arched on the bed, shuddered, then let out a strangled “Oh
God, Spike …. More!” Spike grinned around the member in his mouth, crooked his
fingers again, and continued to press and brush against it with every thrust.
Apparently having lost the
power of speech, Xander’s attempt to beg emerged as a series of cries and
groans. Spike’s answering growl around the shaft in his mouth, simply served
only to heighten the most exquisite torture. Xander’s world was swiftly
distilled to that talented cool mouth, the sparks coming from within, and the
fire burning from his groin outward. Just as he thought he might pass out in
bliss and need to come, Spike varied the timing, placed his free hand around
Xander’s warm sack and literally squeezed the climax from him.
Swallowing as fast as he
dared, a dribble spilled from the corner of Spike’s mouth. He gently laved the
perineum and licked his sated friend’s swiftly softening sex. Xander looked
down with slightly glazed eyes to see Spike lick the last little spill from his
chin, then he felt fingers withdrawing slowly and gently, brushing the over the
now too sensitive area. This time it elicited a hiss and protective tensing
from the recipient as nerve ends protested their *far* too ‘touchy’ status.
Spike crawled back up the
bed tugging the sheet with him, put a chaste kiss on the boys chest then cheek
and fell back onto the mattress.
“Hmmm nice…..” he grinned
and rolled toward Xander to gauge the after effect….
Virtually asleep, Xander
managed to roll into the spooned embrace, casually threw an arm around Spike’s
waist, pulled the slighter figure closer and muttered a just audible
“Yup….Nice.”
The vampire purred in his most seductive baritone, “Y
know, be even better with you ‘sleepin’ over’ tomorrow night and the next when
we’re all done with the First…. Celebratin’ be an adventure with *you* pet!”
<<<<<<<<<<<
Bellum, veneratio
quod diligo (war, respect and love)
>>>>>>>>>
He’d had to ‘send the lad home’ eventually, but only
after a kiss that screamed promises for the coming day and firm hug that spelt
friendship …. So Xander returned the following evening – this time, struggling
down the narrow staircase with the mattress from an upstairs double futon and
accompanying bed linen.
Spike had tried hard not to
smile too broadly when Xander had enthusiastically agreed to the concept of the
‘sleepover’. And grinned broadly as the boy proceeded to explain, at the usual
morning meeting of the household upstairs, that he ‘just needed some quiet’ and
‘male bonding type stuff’.
Xander’s announcement had
been met with only mild surprise by the audience present. The fact that Andrew
had immediately pouted and begun whining complaints of how he should also be
allowed to sleep downstairs, concluding with the quintessential “Anyways, I
should so be down there, ‘cause it’s like Piccard cutting out Number 1 in the
heat of the Borg invasion…. Bad things happened…. And I so count as the manly
man?… just as much as Spike?……. thank *you* mister!’. All said whilst
attempting to untie his apron with oven mits still firmly in place. This little
display followed by Xander’s pointed “Dare you to say that to Spike’s face”,
effectively silenced any other queries regarding the “whys and wherefores” of
Xander choosing to spend so much pre battle time of late with the former target
of all his ‘cutting humor’.
Spike now looked toward ‘removalist ruckus’ on the
stairwell, “Planning to stay, pet?”
“Well…… you did offer, and I….” Xander paused half way
down, suddenly unsure that his arrival was what Spike wished. Reassuring smile
flashed his way and he proceeded with gusto.
As the afternoon moved on,
the pool table was utilized again, and conversation again became interspersed
with long periods of comfortable silence. Click of white ball on coloured while
one or other player leaned casually on the upright at the base of the stair,
took on a timeless quality. And for
Xander any question of ‘other’ orientations, angst over lost body parts, nerves
regarding new experiences, or troubling thoughts of mortality were temporarily
banished. Spike was a true friend….. and they were playing pool…. Nothing else
mattered
“So when did you get your nipples pierced?”
Xander’s cheeks immediately
flushed scarlet, “What?.... um …. Few months ago…. But… How did you know??”
“Don’t get me wrong – just
wondered. Can see the scars – only tiny mind… Just curious as to why….”
With blush fast threatening
to reach his ankles, Xander took a deep breath and admitted his post
jilting-Anja penchant for pain and marking himself….
“Nothin’ wrong with that,
mate. All get ourselves a few quirks when love goes wrong…. But why’d you let
them heal over?”
“Dunno – just guess it was
kind of symbolic…..”
“You keep the rings?”
Now Xander’s voice took on
the huskiness Spike had enjoy, “Yeah, you can have them if you like…..” then
ventured a shy “I think they would suit you…” He reached down to the pocket of
the duffle bag now housing all his remaining clothes, scrabbled around for a
few seconds then presented Spike with two gold circles.
Spike stared at the faded
Tshirt covering the broad chest and the open expression on his erstwhile
companion’s face he held out his hand and accepted Xander’s offer. With his
other hand thrust into his pocked he fisted the amulet Buffy had handed him
earlier that day, and silently pledged to make the boy feel…. wonderful…
tonight….whatever it took.
They all knew the coming
fight was going to be fierce. Buffy had allocated tasks earlier that day, so
daunting in their scope that none of them were in any doubt the journey to meet
the First was likely a final one for some of them. This time was precious, and
that Xander was choosing to spend what could be their last night on earth with
Spike, touched him deeply.
Spike realised he had
absently heated a mug of blood during his interim ‘brood’, drank it quickly
then turned to the corner of the room where Xander had set up the ‘share bed’
and was now lying spread-eagled and surprisingly nude (!) but for the corner of
a sheet slung around his waist. He was apparently freshly bathed judging by the
fruity scent, and appeared… ‘warm, comfortable and relaxed’. And now Spike was
anything but, as evidenced by his rapidly tightening jeans.
Xander turned, winked and
almost purred, “So, we going to play?”
With that Spike let out a
feral growl of delight and moved to join the delicious figure on the bed.
He started slowly, speaking
low into the boy’s left ear with a gravelly undertone.
“You talked last night about
some being 15 or some such. ’Dry’, ‘instantaneous’, ‘no actual contact’, ‘never
happened before or since’ and ‘staring at lino’???” ….
Spike pondered the
possibilities….It was a hell of a challenge and the *only* bit that made sense
was the fact that the kid had been 15 years old when it happened.
“This may take some
experimentin’ but if your up for it, I’ll see what I can do….”
It was all Xander could do
to nod – words suddenly departing with his own blood – all taking up residence
in the groin area.
“You reckon it might have
been about context? You thinkin’ ‘bout ‘objet de luxure’ for too many days
without ‘relief’ or summat?…You *do* know that eventually it wouldn’t matter
who it was that turned up, just s’ long as they took the edge off it right?”
Spikes tone dropped an
octave, so close now to a purr that it evoked a shiver with every sentence.
“I guess I’ll need to work
up to actual ‘relieving’…. It may not even be needed ‘cause you know…. we want
you on the very edge of coming again and again…. Want you so hard, that all
worries disappear, and you only have one reality….
….Until your body begs for
satisfaction, and every nerve end is enveloped by the need for completion…
….When all other thoughts
are overruled by the all encompassing drive to attain ultimate release…
…Until you finally do tip
over the precipice, then pass out with relief… ”
His eyes closed, as Spike
continued in a slow, purring tone, “There is nothing but this now, right now….
No tomorrow… no work…. no worries….just you…your body and all the pleasure it
can bring…. this is all you are….”
Xander felt the cool breath
as Spike *almost* nuzzled his neck and became aware of the instantaneous shift
to game face then back again as his neck was caressed by ridges, then jaw line
lightly brushed by the ‘human’ nose.
“You will forget
*everything* except your nerve ends,….”
His left nipple felt the
feathery touch of cool torso…..
“Your arousal…..”
Spike shifted his weight
leant down hard, apparently intent on pressing down on the bulge evident under
his towel with his own obvious erection, then chose to fall just short of
making contact…..
“The sensations from your
skin…”
He pushed himself up the
body, flicked the right nipple with the very tip of his tongue then blew over
the same, sensitive pebble…..
“Your muscles doing as nerve
ends demand, ….”
He lifted a little, blew
another cool stream over the sensitive dark hairs just below Xander’s navel,
then returned to the measured monologue.
“You are going to *be*
simply your own exquisite tingling groin…..”
Xander felt the gentle
removal of the sheet and noted a tickle as the very tips of platinum locks
brushed his inner thigh.
“Live only for the
breathless anticipation….”
He felt weight shifting
again and a cool stream of air caress the tip of his arousal….
“Find relief in panting your
ecstatic climax……”
Still not quite touching
him, Spike’s hands ghosted over the skin of the boy’s inner thighs and groin,
causing hairs to stand at attention at each pass…..
“Then lie sated in the
physical and mental silence of the petite morte that follows….”
The body over Xander shifted
up again, still not touching.
“Your traitorous body at the
same time wishing that it feels like this forever…”
“And since this is about
imagination and the here and the now……
we don’t want you thinking
of lying on a broad rug on the edge of a river bank on a warm sunny day, summer
grass and wild flowers bending gently in a light breeze…….
Or have you almost hear the
rustle of leaves and swish of the water;
the faint scent of pollen;
sense the delicate fingers stroking up your inner thigh from your knee…”
Xander feels the weight
shift a little as Spike leaned toward him – achingly close but still no touch.
“And we wouldn’t want you
imagining those same fingers tracing lazy circles on the skin just below your
belly button, or brushing feather light strokes around the shell of your ear….
Or the tip of a tongue licking the merest caress from base to tip as you
harden”
Spike blew a gentle stream
of cool air over his subject’s groin, and agitated the hairs just enough to
increase arousal by one more notch.
“And we definitely wouldn’t
want you sensing some legs straddling you and wet inviting space moving so
close to your sex that you can feel the moist softness even before it engulfs
you; nor the powerful climax building as your lover lowers himself onto you,
sheathing you in the cool slick channel, so tight…. Then establishes the
*slowest* of paces.”
“Particularly because…… if
you open your eyes and the object of your imagination happens to be in the
room…. The sensation of filling him might just bubble over and become
reality….”
Xander felt the bed shift, a
body join him on the bed, and silence reigned for a few long seconds before a
husky voice whispered….
“May I touch you now?”
Xander’s back arched in
supplication, he silent begged for the contact and nodded his most definite,
yet wordless consent.
Spike began tender
ministrations and sealed lips around the ridge below the tip of Xander’s sex
and sucked as hard as he could, flicking his tongue over the slit.
Xander hissed and arched his
back. His tutor relaxed the throat muscles and started swallowing, never releasing
the seal or stopping the deep sucking. Xander’s sex hit the back wall of his
attendant’s throat, then slipping even further in. Spike began a methodically
slow progression up and down the shaft. Even with limited experience of such an
expert mouth, Xander knew he would last no more than seconds if it continued
and was just beginning to regret the enjoyable yet lengthy lead in, when gasp
replaced groan as he felt a hand clamp the base of his erection, and firm cuff
replace fingers. The seductive commentary stated, “Know your ex had a gold one
for this purpose – but my pets find leather *so* much more comfortable.”
Spike sat back to admire the
tableau then placed one of Xander’s own hands firmly on the tight shaft and
encouraged him to stroke up its length while he shuffled down between the
thighs, removed his jeans and attended the tightening sac.
“Now… let’s see what else is
possible.” Spike pulled several items from the bedside drawer, Xander heard the
snap of a tube top then a ‘tut tut’ as a dollop of lube dropped onto his chest. With the slick entry, mimicking hand into silk
glove, he felt a slim, lubricated butt plug push into a tight, smooth space..
‘You OK with this?’ Spike
waited – noting that the boy’s eyes were shut tight but the look did not seem
to be one of distress – so he gently continued…
‘The trick is to push back
against me, pet. Try to squeeze it out; it’ll make it easier for you.’ Xander
complied, and the toy moved forward, embedding deeply. Everything was held
still for a few minutes as Spike waiting for him to adjust fully. Xander’s face
finally turned toward his partner with a look of relaxation and ecstacy… and
was rewarded accordingly with a sound petting. ‘Hey mate….. You okay? Feel
good? I have other sizes if you feel like playing larger.’
Despite the vehement shaking
of the head, there was a whispered ‘Can I change my mind about what ‘way’ I
like most, cause…. uhhhh…. This is *really* OK.”
Spike growled out, “Oh Pet,
you have no idea……..”
Then Spike flicked the
switch. Buzzing initiated, the vibrations from the plug managed to scramble all
cohesive thought, whilst Xander’s erection reached its own painful conclusion –
now hard against his belly, and still bound, Xander found his existence once
again reduced to a single imperative – the need to come.
Spike started moving the toy
with very slow, very drawn out movements in and out of Xander’s ass. Every few
stokes he added a little more of the heating lube he’d procured from the
‘everything’s free now’ chemist during one of his ‘shopping’ trips to the
Bronze. He experimented to see what Xander liked, tried withdrawing completely,
and when the response was a groan of pleasure, played with that for a while,
insistently pushing the tip of the plug in and out, teasing the sensitive ring.
Eventually Xander could bear
the torture no longer and began to push back in earnest. Spike relented,
rotated the toy a little and pushed in deeply again vibrating its way past the
small, soft swelling that made it ever more pleasurable. Xander’s eyes snapped
opened and body jerked as he groaned and hissed his pleasure, ‘There! Just do
that…. Right there….Oh G….’ He flung his arm over his face, but Spike pulled it
away. No fun unless you could watch that face as he came.
Spike continued to find the
target with the toy while guided Xander’s hand again to the urgent cock lying
between them, smiling that his subject was so lost in the new sensation that he
had neglected to tend to this unprompted. Spike deliberately helped him form a
fist and kept there hand there, working them together until encouragement was
no longer needed.
Spike shifted his legs
again, this time placing one over each of his shoulders, gently caressing the
backs of his thighs, from here he could work the toy, have a spare hand and
lick forcefully down the perineum, eliciting joyous buck of hips and “Oh God”
Spike simply continued to lave the area. [Luv I’ll answer to anything on a good
day]
“Hey c’mon Xan, talk to me
mate, want me to stop?’ Spike grinned knowing full well that speaking at this
point was almost impossible for the boy. The cock ring had done its job and the
restrained member was all shades of deep pinks and purples.
‘Hmm, good boys
deserve presents yeah?’ With that Spike moved swiftly, continuing the
vibrator’s rhythm. The restraint holding back his climax was flicked loose,
momentarily removing the vibrator as Spike straddled him and leaned forward to
maneuver his erection alongside Xander’s then returned the vibrator to its warm
passage. He arched and ground the two cocks together. He sensed the pulsations
in the twin erections, then felt the tension deep inside release and they
climaxed simultaneously
He collapsed onto the
broad chest, removed the vibrator and felt the boy shudder once more as he
gradually ‘came down’….
Xander could feel
Spike’s smirk against his chest but still managed to mumble, “OK, toys -
definitely of the good.” Then promptly fell asleep.
<<<<<<<< Spes quod Infinitio (Hope and Eternity)>>>>>>>>
A morning glow back lit the
curtains over the tiny basement windows. Spike had been awake for a while. He
twisted to admire his sleeping companion.
If this was to be his last
day, then he was just going to enjoy the quiet and try to memorize the feeling
of him, the contours, the corded muscles, his scent, all for future reference
‘cause it might help to have that memory as he was likely to be spending
eternity in hell after today…..
This was indeed the rarest
of moments, and he determined it be savored… He ventured a tentative hand down
to find Xander’s early morning erection taking form……Spike wondered what he
would dream if he were to ‘have a play’, wondered if he would continue to
snooze… He wondered if he could manage to get him to climax without waking the
lad. It was the morning before the ‘big battle’, nothing to lose really…..
Spike’s leg had been resting
over Xander’s thigh, he eased it over further and began to lightly rub his bed
buddy’s now semi erect member. Pale fingers found the dark curls surrounding,
tugged and teased them and lips latched onto the closest nipple for long enough
to prompt it to pebble under his tongue….
Decision made, he shifted
onto his side, eased up to his knees then slowly licked and caressed his way
down to the dark curls. Then reached for the tiny brown bottle of oil he’d kept
by the bed ‘just in case’.
{{{{Xander was lying on a
warm deserted beach, could feel a light caressing breeze on his skin but
couldn’t quite register the other feelings except somehow he knew he was nude.
He became increasingly aware of many hands and many tongues massaging and
laving his body but seemed powerless to move, even to the point of being unable
to lift his head to view the source of the increasingly pleasant sensations.}}}}}
Spike felt his boy respond,
as hands now slippery with massage oil, moved constantly taking each leg in
turn, lavishing attention on toes, feet then legs. He gently eased Xander’s
legs apart moving between them, reaching for the left arm and moving it wide of
his body. Xander’s right arm was (as usual) already thrown above his head,
emphasizing his well defined muscles and an appearance of sheer relaxation.
{{{{The beach morphed into
the inner workings of a dark bedroom, he was lying enveloped in the softest of
beds, still apparently unable to move with a vague awareness that there were
restraints holding his arms and legs spread eagled…. A blindfold descended and
he registered a shiver of excitement}}}}
Xander’s erection now almost
at full attention (as was his torturer’s), Spike ceased his ministrations
momentarily, checking for signs of consciousness. Satisfied his charge was
still asleep Spike proceeded to lick up the vein on the underside of his shaft,
stroking the base and cupping his balls ever so gently. He slid his mouth over
the tip, careful not to graze it with teeth; he savored the mushroom running
the tip of his tongue around the ridge and over the small slit, smiling as he
detected the salty droplets at the entrance. He reached up stroking both sides
the relaxed face and down jaw line, gradually letting the now rigid shaft slide
from his mouth, enjoying the texture of the thick vein slipping past his
tongue.
{{{{It was warm and soft,
the bed seemed to be moving in and all around him, he could hear a strong
heartbeat, was aware that he was being caressed. But with a shift in this
bizarre dream it was apparent that he had somehow *become* his own hardened
member, feeling himself wholly sheathed in a warm mouth aware that his head was
being stroked, coaxed and now enveloped deep inside a very warm, wet, silken enclosure. He
was surprised that he could still breathe in such a tight space, but all wonder
was brushed aside as an overwhelming urge to thrust forward took him}}}}
Grabbing for the tube of
lube Spike swiftly prepared himself – not that a little pain would be a problem
– but he was still trying to do this without waking his impaler and a dry entry
would hardly go unnoticed! Slick and ready Spike straddled his friend gingerly,
paused momentarily – again checking for signs of waking, gently lifted the
thick shaft to position it just so then eased down. Sliding Xander deep and
stifling a groan as the delight of brushing his own prostate confirmed once
again that knowing one’s own body could sometimes be an advantage when angles
of entry were critical. He leaned forward, grabbing the head board and took
some of his weight with his arms then began to ride the boy at an
excruciatingly slow pace. He glanced at the clock by the bed; casually
wondering how long he could keep this up and whether or not Xander would wake
on release. He felt the hips underneath him begin to respond to the rhythm
though apparently still in slumber-land and resolved to increase the pace.
{{{{There was urgency, a
feeling of agitation, he needed to move, and he knew he had opened his mouth to
yell but to no avail, then he felt the rhythm start again…. He leaned toward
it, yearned for it, reached up to it. The stars were falling toward his knees
and gathering, moving up his legs, they tingled and still the rhythm continued
and he wanted…. He needed…..
and
he watched the stars and the heat and tingles as they moved up through his body
through his mind then with a scream he let them burst free…… again and again
}}}}}
Spike felt the thrusts
become stronger, he held his own climax at bay and varied the rhythm a little
and angled himself a little higher to force the shaft even deeper with each
stroke.
Xander came hard with a
muffled yell, Spike registering four powerful jets of deliciously hot liquid
and several aftershocks inside his own channel, then watched with dismay as a
single glistening tear tracked from the corner of Xander’s good eye. Suddenly
fearful that he had somehow hurt his friend, Spike caressed the damp cheek with
his thumb and contemplated another lifetime without this. He lifted off gently
then moved to Xander’s ‘sighted’ side and resolving simply enjoy the moment and
hope that there would be no need for ‘damage control’, after all he hadn’t
really ‘taken advantage’, had he?
Awareness crept over Xander,
the warm bed of his dreams dissolved to be replaced by the early morning light
and an equally unfamiliar bedroom. He slowly registered that there was a soft
cool body lifting off him then spooning his side, and a relaxed pale arm
casually thrown over his waist.
He adjusted his position a
little but remained on his back – one arm still casually resting above his head - Spike wriggled a little to accommodate the move
then threw his leg over Xander’s again, pushing his hips forward. Spike heard a
groan and the rumble of what he thought might be approval, simply answering
with a self satisfied ‘hmmmm’, which rapidly became purring, breaking *any*
illusion of slumber.
“Hey” Spike’s voice still a
little husky from the purring, but the definite smirk and twinkle in azure eyes
indicated to Xander that Spike had indeed been awake for some time, “Finally
the rest of you is up…. …. You OK pet?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine… ‘s the time?”
“Around seven I figure…..
you have a nice dream?”
“Hmmmm the best”, came a
rather languid reply.
“Care to elaborate?” Spike
tried his best to appear the epitome of innocence, and failed dismally.
Xander’s face broke into a
broad grin, “Figure you may already have the Cliff notes, would you like me to
relive some of the highlights with you….”
“Delighted to keep the dream
alive for you mate – might relieve the tension for meself, ya never know”
One eye brow raised, he
flashed a lascivious grin…. They both knew that the battle was coming and that
this might well be their last moments together, so time was precious……. and not
about to be wasted. Xander pulled the sheet over his head, moments later Spike
felt a heated mouth enveloping his very definitely interested appendage,
arching off the bed as his own completion was consumed with gusto.
“God Harris… Xander….. ‘f we
get out the other end of this, you an I need a really long talk – and possible
a condo in San Fran!....”
The statement was greeted by
a heartfelt smile from the now rather ruffled lover emerging from his sheeted
‘nether region’. Spike took this as permission to continue the proposal that
had been weighing on him for hours….
“So, I need someone to take
m’ two rings for safekeeping like and seeings as you’re goin’ to be ‘rear
guard’, I figured you might be willing……”
Xander saw the ‘young Will’
for a second time in five days as Spike’s gaze and tone dropped, and he
nervously rolled two golden objects in the palm of his left hand…..” Special
friend n’ all…. You know…… just don’t want to get a chink taken out in the heat
of the moment, that sort of thing….”
Xander rolled to his side,
letting his arm rest gently over the alabaster chest…. Spike space. He looked down
and suddenly understood, cupped in the elegant hand of the former scholar were
his human father’s familial ring and the seal of Aurelius. He wasn’t sure where
Spike had been hiding the ring so painfully accepted as a young boy, but looked
upon both with reverence. This was about an unstated promise to be safe; a
pledge that they’d both ‘get through this’; the promise to ‘play another day’
together; and even to risk the need to ‘out’ any consequent relationship to
friends. This was the last desperate act to define a commitment and quell the
fear that they might well lose their newly discovered friend and emerging
lover; acknowledgement of respect for the significant longtime ally, important
even before current crisis and passion had pushed them along the ‘more than
friendship’ course.
“I’ll wear yours, if you
wear mine,” Xander stated, as he tugged off the wedding band he’d so furiously
locked onto a middle digit of his ‘wrong hand’ months before, and handed it to
Spike.
They each found the fingers
best suited to taking the foreign circles, stood and dressed in silence. Then
with one final grief stricken, passionate kiss and terrified embrace, turned to
ascend the steps. Xander grasped Spike’s hand until the last moment in a
desperate effort to convey his strength and love. He smiled when the squeeze
was returned and whispered, “Hope you’re free for carols next Christmas?”
“You’re on…… ‘Five golden
rings’ - What ya reckon pet…. three ringed fingers, two pierced navels and your
partridge in my pear tree – they’ll never guess, mate!” Spike’s intense azure
gaze demanding of Xander that they both live to share *that* moment….
…And with that, they both
put their free hand to the basement door and opened it to join the ‘final
offensive’.