Ashes to Ashes, 4/30
Oct. 10th, 2007 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
psych_30 table prompt # 18: instinct and tamingthemuse prompt # 64: promise
Summary: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Grief and a kind of madness take Spike and Xander places they aren't sure they want to go....
Xander wanted to cringe as he lay next to Spike. Somewhere deep in his mind, he could hear a furious screaming. It sounded vaguely like himself, the voice cracked and broken from constant use.
Spike was naked now, lean and hard, crawling up the bed. Every so often, he’d stop to kiss or nip at Xander, sending shudders through the human’s body. The voice got louder, reminding him of Anya who waited at home for him, of Buffy, dead and probably watching him from heaven. Dirty, rotten, disgusting, the voice railed hoarsely. Get up and beat him down, teach him his place.
The problem was that the voice made sense. Three months ago, he’d hated Spike. Actually, he hadn’t hated Spike because he hadn’t thought Spike was worth the energy hate required. No, he’d wielded far more effective weapons three months ago. Boredom and indifference cut much deeper than hate. Now his entire world focused on the blond vampire whose presence called out the sensual darkness inside him.
As Spike bit down on his nipple, he jerked spastically and moaned. His body knew what it wanted and somehow, Xander couldn’t resist. His hands traced over Spike restlessly, unable to settle on any of patch of skin. Spike pulled back a bit to stare at him and Xander mewled in the back of his throat, the loss of contact a physical pain.
Something he saw in Xander’s face had Spike smiling and reaching for his hands. Spike grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms above his head. Xander’s muscles, taut and straining, burned slightly and he reveled in the slight discomfort. The little bits of him that fought against this quieted, and Xander relaxed into Spike’s grip.
“Know what you’re doing,” Spike murmured, teeth sinking into his shoulder. “Sweet little boy, you’ve got no secrets here. You can’t let this be you, can’t bear to disappoint them. Don’t worry, pet. Big Bad’ll make you accept it.”
Xander wriggled, a last pretense at resisting what they both knew he was craving. Spike’s strength was his bulwark, his last shield against fear. Spike wouldn’t let him fall, wouldn’t let him fail. There was no rhyme or reason for that knowledge, nothing in their mutual past that gave him hope or security. Every particle of Xander’s body knew it. The touch of Spike’s hands on wrists promised him freedom from an endless circle of blame and loathing.
“Spike,” he breathed out, hips rocking instinctively towards what he craved.
“I’ve got you,” Spike reassured him, easily keeping him pinned down. “Let go, Xander. Show me what you want.”
Xander closed his eyes, pulling up slightly to reach Spike’s lips. As he kissed Spike, lips parting to grant the other man access to his mouth, he felt the bottom of his stomach drop. This was just bodies, just skin and blood and sweat, but something about Spike compelled him to offer every last bit of himself. Spike told him to show, to use his body where his words didn’t, couldn’t, explain. This was what he wanted, someone strong and fierce and dangerous to take him outside himself and stop him from doing what he couldn’t, shouldn’t, do.
As his tongue wound around Spike’s, his legs worked their way around Spike’s hips. Spike moaned into his mouth as their slippery cocks collided. Xander arched underneath him, desperately seeking to prolong the lovely pain.
Spike continued to kiss him, dragging their cocks together with lazily pumping hips. The hands on Xander’s wrist shifted, leaving only one hand covering both wrists. Xander began to buck, testing the limits of Spike’s ability to control him.
“Fight me,” Spike hissed against his lips. “Go on, get free if you can.”
The moist finger sliding around the crack of his ass stilled Xander as violently as a slap. His legs splayed open in invitation, he didn’t move a muscle. The finger parted his firm cheeks, touching him gently, almost tenderly.
“This is mine,” Spike told him, peppering his face with barely there kisses. “You’re not giving, Xander. ‘M taking. Gonna give me quite a ride, little lamb. You’re a sweet little treat, all spread out and aching for what I can give you.”
Xander’s breath whooshed back in, but he shook his head. Spike smiled at this token protest and it bathed Xander in a strange warmth. Spike’s finger wormed its way past the tight ring of muscle, gliding deep inside him.
“You’re fighting a one-man war,” Spike said. “Not gonna let you be a casualty, Xander. Gonna take you, keep you, give you what you need.”
Xander shook his head again, but when a second finger joined the first, his hips began to pump. Spike withdrew his fingers, and Xander choked out a small cry. No more protests, no more berating himself, he wanted. The rough burn, the stretch and painful heat, and he knew without a doubt that the sad empty pieces of his life would die.
Spike pushed forward quickly, allowing the satiny heat of Xander’s body to draw him in. Xander shouted, but he didn’t pull away. Spike could see the shiny look of confusion and welcome in Xander’s eyes. The younger man was losing himself in his body, finding gratification in being quiet and still. When Xander’s eyes closed and his head tilted back, Spike stiffened, trying to control himself. He couldn’t bite, couldn’t take what was his by right, but the invitation was so damn intoxicating.
He began to thrust in earnest, pounding into the delectable body and reveling in the heady sensation of finally being a Master again. Xander was babbling, begging and pleading for Spike to hurt him, to take him, take me please make me yours need it need you fuck me use me nownownow…
His orgasm tore through him like fire, stilling his hips as he flooded Xander’s body with spunk. Xander quaked around him, little tremors that told Spike how close he was to coming. Spike smiled shakily, trailing a finger down Xander’s thick cock. He’d promised to take, and he always kept his word. If Xander wanted more, he’d have to earn it. Chapter 5
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for my
psych_30 table prompt # 18: instinct and tamingthemuse prompt # 64: promiseSummary: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Grief and a kind of madness take Spike and Xander places they aren't sure they want to go....
Xander wanted to cringe as he lay next to Spike. Somewhere deep in his mind, he could hear a furious screaming. It sounded vaguely like himself, the voice cracked and broken from constant use.
Spike was naked now, lean and hard, crawling up the bed. Every so often, he’d stop to kiss or nip at Xander, sending shudders through the human’s body. The voice got louder, reminding him of Anya who waited at home for him, of Buffy, dead and probably watching him from heaven. Dirty, rotten, disgusting, the voice railed hoarsely. Get up and beat him down, teach him his place.
The problem was that the voice made sense. Three months ago, he’d hated Spike. Actually, he hadn’t hated Spike because he hadn’t thought Spike was worth the energy hate required. No, he’d wielded far more effective weapons three months ago. Boredom and indifference cut much deeper than hate. Now his entire world focused on the blond vampire whose presence called out the sensual darkness inside him.
As Spike bit down on his nipple, he jerked spastically and moaned. His body knew what it wanted and somehow, Xander couldn’t resist. His hands traced over Spike restlessly, unable to settle on any of patch of skin. Spike pulled back a bit to stare at him and Xander mewled in the back of his throat, the loss of contact a physical pain.
Something he saw in Xander’s face had Spike smiling and reaching for his hands. Spike grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms above his head. Xander’s muscles, taut and straining, burned slightly and he reveled in the slight discomfort. The little bits of him that fought against this quieted, and Xander relaxed into Spike’s grip.
“Know what you’re doing,” Spike murmured, teeth sinking into his shoulder. “Sweet little boy, you’ve got no secrets here. You can’t let this be you, can’t bear to disappoint them. Don’t worry, pet. Big Bad’ll make you accept it.”
Xander wriggled, a last pretense at resisting what they both knew he was craving. Spike’s strength was his bulwark, his last shield against fear. Spike wouldn’t let him fall, wouldn’t let him fail. There was no rhyme or reason for that knowledge, nothing in their mutual past that gave him hope or security. Every particle of Xander’s body knew it. The touch of Spike’s hands on wrists promised him freedom from an endless circle of blame and loathing.
“Spike,” he breathed out, hips rocking instinctively towards what he craved.
“I’ve got you,” Spike reassured him, easily keeping him pinned down. “Let go, Xander. Show me what you want.”
Xander closed his eyes, pulling up slightly to reach Spike’s lips. As he kissed Spike, lips parting to grant the other man access to his mouth, he felt the bottom of his stomach drop. This was just bodies, just skin and blood and sweat, but something about Spike compelled him to offer every last bit of himself. Spike told him to show, to use his body where his words didn’t, couldn’t, explain. This was what he wanted, someone strong and fierce and dangerous to take him outside himself and stop him from doing what he couldn’t, shouldn’t, do.
As his tongue wound around Spike’s, his legs worked their way around Spike’s hips. Spike moaned into his mouth as their slippery cocks collided. Xander arched underneath him, desperately seeking to prolong the lovely pain.
Spike continued to kiss him, dragging their cocks together with lazily pumping hips. The hands on Xander’s wrist shifted, leaving only one hand covering both wrists. Xander began to buck, testing the limits of Spike’s ability to control him.
“Fight me,” Spike hissed against his lips. “Go on, get free if you can.”
The moist finger sliding around the crack of his ass stilled Xander as violently as a slap. His legs splayed open in invitation, he didn’t move a muscle. The finger parted his firm cheeks, touching him gently, almost tenderly.
“This is mine,” Spike told him, peppering his face with barely there kisses. “You’re not giving, Xander. ‘M taking. Gonna give me quite a ride, little lamb. You’re a sweet little treat, all spread out and aching for what I can give you.”
Xander’s breath whooshed back in, but he shook his head. Spike smiled at this token protest and it bathed Xander in a strange warmth. Spike’s finger wormed its way past the tight ring of muscle, gliding deep inside him.
“You’re fighting a one-man war,” Spike said. “Not gonna let you be a casualty, Xander. Gonna take you, keep you, give you what you need.”
Xander shook his head again, but when a second finger joined the first, his hips began to pump. Spike withdrew his fingers, and Xander choked out a small cry. No more protests, no more berating himself, he wanted. The rough burn, the stretch and painful heat, and he knew without a doubt that the sad empty pieces of his life would die.
Spike pushed forward quickly, allowing the satiny heat of Xander’s body to draw him in. Xander shouted, but he didn’t pull away. Spike could see the shiny look of confusion and welcome in Xander’s eyes. The younger man was losing himself in his body, finding gratification in being quiet and still. When Xander’s eyes closed and his head tilted back, Spike stiffened, trying to control himself. He couldn’t bite, couldn’t take what was his by right, but the invitation was so damn intoxicating.
He began to thrust in earnest, pounding into the delectable body and reveling in the heady sensation of finally being a Master again. Xander was babbling, begging and pleading for Spike to hurt him, to take him, take me please make me yours need it need you fuck me use me nownownow…
His orgasm tore through him like fire, stilling his hips as he flooded Xander’s body with spunk. Xander quaked around him, little tremors that told Spike how close he was to coming. Spike smiled shakily, trailing a finger down Xander’s thick cock. He’d promised to take, and he always kept his word. If Xander wanted more, he’d have to earn it. Chapter 5
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no subject
on 2007-10-12 12:48 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-10-12 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-10-12 01:37 pm (UTC)*Mwah*
no subject
on 2007-10-13 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-10-12 06:23 pm (UTC)Very nice.
no subject
on 2007-10-13 03:09 am (UTC)*helps you up*
I'll be sure and tone it down next time so you don't fall...hehe! :)
no subject
on 2007-10-13 03:33 pm (UTC)I love this. It is so dark and sexy.
Shay
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on 2007-10-14 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-10-14 03:31 am (UTC)Please provide the next installment at earliest convenience.
I shall wait anxiously.
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on 2007-10-14 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-09-23 03:07 pm (UTC)