Hello Iowa

 

 

 

Xander stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of sweet scented steam to find Spike waiting exactly where he'd left him, in the middle of their red-covered bed, burned down candles still fused to the night stands on either side, and a manacle around one of Spike's ankles.

What do you mean there's no key to this one and the shop is closed until Monday?

So you'll have a captive vampire until Monday, pet. Nothing wrong with that, Spike had said. And of course, Spike was right. Captive vampires, Xander was thinking, were of the good, even when it was unintentional.

In fact, only one thing was wrong with this picture.

Spike was reading the newspaper.

With glasses on.

"What is this, co-ed naked newspaper reading?"

Eyebrows lifted, Spike folded the newspaper and regarded Xander over the rims of his spectacles. "Think you need co-eds for it to be co-ed naked newspaper reading, luv."

"Do I want to know what was so interesting it was worth reading while chained to the bed? I'm pretty sure I didn't take that long in the shower."

"Not just interesting, pet. Relevant." Spike folded the newspaper, stretching. "Students being stripped of their rights. Terrible tragedy."

Xander crawled onto the bed, easing up until he could straddle Spike's hips and look at the newspaper from upside down. "Since when do you care about university students?"

"Care about worthy university students, don't I?"

"And what would constitute worthy university students, o wise one?"

"Funny enough, co-eds." Spike turned the paper around, laid it on his stomach, and folded his arms behind his head, watching Xander while running the tip of his tongue behind his teeth.

"Iowa State U has a campus bondage club?"

"That they do, pet."

"Why didn't I go to Iowa State?"

"Bit of a commute from Sunnydale, isn't it?"

Xander leaned forward, resting his hands on either side of Spike's rib cage, then twisted to look back down his body at the cuff around one slender ankle. "Think of all I could have learned if I'd only gone to college."

"Hey, now!" Spike caught Xander's jaw, turning him back to face him. "Over a hundred years of experience, here. I'm better than any sodding Iowa bondage club."

"Yeah, but did you ever go to
college to study bondage?"

"Didn't have to, did I? Had the best private tutors in Europe, and that sort of subtle mastery, you don't learn at sodding university. I mean it's all right for Bondage 101, but if you want to get creative, you need to study the real artists."

"Okay, you learned advanced bondage techniques from one of the worst mass-murdering artists of torture in the 18th and 19th centuries and are now practicing it with me for jollies. Feeling the creepy coming on here. Waiting. Waiting." Xander shuddered violently. "And
there it is."

"That so?" Chuckling, Spike reached between them to trail a finger up the under side of Xander's erection, swirling it around the dampened tip until his finger gleamed wetly. He watched Xander's eye track it all the way back to his mouth and between his lips, giving him just enough flicker of tongue for Xander's pupils to dilate, then released the finger with a soft, wet pop. "See part of you hasn't got the creeped out memo."

"That part of me ignores memos. All of them. I'm thinking of reporting him for mutiny or insubordination. One of those."

"Dunno, pet," Spike said, letting his hand drift back down to circle Xander, jacking him slowly, negligently, but keeping his eyes fixed on Xander's. "Seems to be standing up like a good little soldier. All ready to do service."

"Um. You're the one chained to the bed. Aren't you supposed to be servicing me?"

"That's not the way it has to work, is it? Here's the bit they don't teach you in college, the bit where it's not all so black and white." Spike leaned up, sliding his unchained leg along Xander's, and wrapping it over his thigh. His knuckles, where they brushed his own stomach were leaving slick, damp trails with Xander's pre-come, and Xander's eye was taking on that hazy, unfocused look that signaled the end of the conversation every time. "That's not the way you want it to work. I may be the one who's chained, but I'm also the one in charge. You like it that way, don't you pet?"

"Why don't you tell me what else I like?" Xander muttered. Leaning heavily on his arms, he let Spike do what he wanted to his body, ignoring the little voice of masculinity that stomped its foot and demanded to know why the guy chained to his bed on his back, who was supposed to lie there and get fucked was calling all the shots while Xander took it like a nancy boy.

And okay, definitely too much time in England now, Xander thought, or maybe just too much time around Spike. Who was he kidding? With hands like that, there was no such thing as too much time around- "Spike!" He yelped as Spike's hand clamped down on his balls.

"Pay attention."

"I'm thinking I don't have any choice."

"Got all the choice in the world, boy. That's what makes it so exciting, isn't it?" Spike's palm warmed to the friction, molding just the way Xander liked it.

"Or maybe that's your hand on my dick talking. Another guy's hand on my dick. Pretty exciting," Xander said, firmly stomping the little voice of machismo into the floor once and for all.

"Nah. More than that today. You love knowing I'm chained here waiting for you, knowing you'll come back in here, come within reach of my evil, molesting hands because you just can't resist. Like to think that you're all in control, but you love to know I'll twist it all around on you the moment I can reach that luscious body of yours." Two fingers sneaked back, slip-sliding over skin that Xander had never known was so interesting before hooking up with Spike, and stabbed through the ring of muscle that only gave token protest before shuddering open to the invasion.

"Twist- Twisted is a good word."

"Lets you dance around the danger, put it off, torture yourself with it, tell yourself you've got it, me, under control this time, and you know why you always do, pet? Why you keep coming back in here to play with me?" Spike asked, the fingers dancing, pressing, sliding over that spongy flesh that made Xander's entire body see stars. "Answer me, or I stop."

"B-because I really like sex?" Xander managed to ask, because stopping was
so not a valid option.

"Well, yeah, but more than that, pet. It's because it feels so bloody good, so much better," Spike said, sliding his fingers out, and jerking Xander's hips forward, positioning him over the untouched steel of Spike's erection. "When you give in," he finished, releasing Xander's hips, and hissing when Xander impaled himself in one hard, greedy thrust. "Ah,
fuck, pet. When you let yourself give in the way you want even more, when you think you're not supposed to."

 

 

 

 

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