PART 29 – Saturday Night Fever
"I'm going to open my pants before my hard-on kills me," Spike
announced.
Xander could hear a loud bang, probably the door of the car being
slammed.
“Right, I should be in Sunnyhell in about two hours,” Spike said. It
sounded more like a question than a statement.
"Uh... wait!" Xander said hurriedly.
Involuntarily, he was straining to listen to the sounds the vampire made
on the other end. A jingling noise. *Car keys.* Another metallic sound. *Belt
buckle.* He gulped. He found himself waiting for the sound of a zip being
pulled down. *Buttons,* he reminded
himself. *Spike's pants have ...a zip?
Oh. Now, that is a very interesting sound and I bet he knows I'm listening. Oh
boy.*
Arousal made his skin prickle.
"Yeess?" Spike asked softly.
"Um..." Xander tried again. He had been about to say something
conversational or witty, like "drive carefully," okay, maybe not so
witty, but when he tried to remember what, his mind drew a blank.
Instead, his imagination eagerly supplied him with a visual. Spike. In
the car. With a cell phone. Opening his pants, reaching inside and...
"Uh... Spike?"
"What is it, pet?" came the amused answer.
"Are you doing what I think you're doing? Cause If you are, and I
think you are…uh doing what I think you're doing, then... um... well...
hmmm...?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" the vampire asked. His voice
was deep, slightly husky and very very sexy. Xander swallowed.
*Oh man, he’s really doing it. To the
sound of MY voice!*
“Uh… could you…? You know.” Xander stifled an embarrassed groan. *He has to be a mind reader to know what I
mean.* How was it that the vampire made him so utterly inarticulate? Why
was it so difficult to talk to Spike about his… - *Feelings? Desires? Desires. Feelings?* – …whatever?
“Where are you right now?"
"Home. Bedroom." Xander replied with a lump in his throat.
Before Spike could ask, he added: "Anya's having a bath and doing I don't
know what with her hair, so she's kind of around but not right now.”
Thinking of his fiancé dampened his spirits somewhat. He sat down on the
bed.
“Did you talk to her?” Spike asked as if reading his thoughts.
*What? Did I tell her that I’ve been
having mind-blowing sex behind her back? I’m not suicidal, thank you very much!
Although… I could always say I’ve been practicing for that threesome she’s been
pestering me about, but that would only be half the truth…*
“Not yet,” Xander admitted reluctantly.
“But you will.” It wasn’t a question.
“I will, okay?” Xander agreed. *Just
not now.*
“See that you do, or I will. Cause I really don’t wanna piss ‘er off,
and - trust me - neither do you,” Spike said. “Anyanka is one who plays by
certain rules, you gotta respect that.”
“You like her!” Xander said, frowning. There was something strange about
the way Spike talked about Anya.
“Well, yeah.”
“Oh,” Xander merely said, not used to anyone liking the woman he was in
love with. He knew that his friends
were prepared to put up with Anya and her less than endearing public persona,
but they didn’t actually like her.
“Now, are you lying on your bed?” Spike interrupted his thoughts. His
voice had changed back to silky and seductive and Xander found himself growing
hard again.
Xander flopped down on the mattress. “Now I am.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Pajamas, dark blue.”
“Well, I’m sitting behind the wheel, wearing the usual. Duster. Black
t-shirt. Only the pants are new… got
myself a nice pair of black leather pants.
Tight fit.” Spike sounded pleased with himself.
Xander closed his eyes. His breathing quickened. He had no difficulties
conjuring images of Spike. The black leather upholstery of the deSoto, Spike
all in black, *oh boy, black leather pants!* - leaning against the
backrest, head thrown back, eyes closed in concentration. Xander could easily
picture the stark contrast of Spike’s bleached hair and his pale naked skin
against all that gleaming leather. That pale erection poking out of opened
pants…
“Anyway,” he heard Spike say, “I think I’ve got a head start, cause I’m
already holding my dick, thinking how good your lips felt on me, that night in
my crypt? Bloody marvellous, that was! So, tell me, Xander, what’s on YOUR
mind?”
Xander laughed nervously. “You are.
William the Bloody, touching me.”
“Well, I would. Gladly. But I can’t reach THAT far. So, you better use
your own hand,” Spike suggested, teasingly. “Go on!”
Xander shuddered but didn’t hesitate. He changed the receiver into his
left and slid his right hand underneath the elastic waistband of his pajama
pants and grasped his hot erection. “Okay,” he breathed.
“Are you hard?”
“You betcha,” was Xander’s flippant reply.
“Say it!”
Xander swallowed. “I’ve got a nice tent in my trousers,” he said evasively.
The vampire chuckled. “You don’t want to talk, you want to listen, is
that it? That’s all right. Just do what I tell you.”
“Oh, okay,” Xander said with relief and a hint of nervousness.
“Well then, I remember your dick, it’s very nice, all hot. Now, I want
you to pull those trousers down a bit. Give it some room, eh? Done? Right, hold
your cock and then touch the tip with your thumb. Circle it, lightly, okay?
Round and round and round… And keep those hips still.”
Xander listened attentively to that smooth voice. Throwing all thought
or reservation overboard, he eagerly followed Spike’s instructions. He could
hear the vampire breathing heavily, finding that simple expression of arousal,
so common for humans, incredibly intoxicating.
His shaft responded eagerly to his touch, and it didn’t take long for
the first drops of pre-cum to moisten his fingers.
Meanwhile, Spike continued to talk to him in that quiet, almost hypnotic
way. “Yeah right, Xander, now lick your fingers, go on, taste yourself… more,
the palm too. Get those fingers nice and slick for me.”
Xander’s heartbeat began to race as he did what he was told. He felt a
tingle of anticipation.
“I’d love to lick you all over, taste you,” Spike continued. “Breathe in
your scent…When I close my eyes I can almost smell you. God, I really like the
way you smell, you know. You remember that night you tied me up in that chair
in your basement? You smelled real nice, it gave me a raging hard-on, just
watching you sleep, inhaling your scent. That was the first time I ever thought
about shagging you senseless.” Spike paused, wistfully.
*Oh wow, that was over two years ago.* Xander worked
out, not without difficulty.
He was yearning to touch his straining erection again. His hips were moving
on their own, thrusting into the air every time he exhaled, desperate for
friction.
“Now, reach down with your hand, ah ah, not to your dick this time. Cup
your balls. Fondle them for a moment.”
Xander felt almost entranced. He caressed his balls, wishing fervently
it was Spike’s hand and not his own that was touching him. He heard muffled
sounds from the other end, and imagined Spike moving around trying to get more
comfortable.
“God, I never thought this could actually happen. I don’t know how often
I sat in my crypt, tossing off, thinking about the way you smell, or about the
way your ass looks when you’re bent over the billiard table. But this?”
Suddenly there was a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “Are you still there?
Xander?”
“Keep talking,” Xander said with difficulty. He was panting heavily.
“Good, cause this is kind of novel for me too, you know. Just checking,
pet.”
"I… um… really like your voice, Spike," Xander blurted out.
“Please, don’t stop.”
For a moment both men were quiet.
Spike cleared his throat. “Right then,” he finally said, sounding more
confident. “I want you to do something for me. I want you to move south,
between your legs. Go where you want me to be.”
Xander hesitated, momentarily torn between embarrassment and desire. His
heart was racing and he felt like he was on fire.
“Pet? Are you there?” The vampire’s voice sounded hoarse with desire.
“Oh God, how I’d love to see you now, sprawled out, all hot and hard. I want to
touch you, taste you, want to slide into you, bury myself in your heat…”
The human trembled at the raw need in the other man’s voice. One hand
still clutching the phone, Xander moved the other one between his thighs. He
shivered as his arm brushed his erection and caught his breath as his middle
finger found its target.
Apparently Spike took that sound to mean ‘yes’, for he took a deep
breath and continued. “And now, Xander, push, slowly. Relax, luv. Just one
finger. Come on, push it in, for me…as far as you can.”
“Spike...” Xander whimpered, turned on to the point of desperation.
“Now think what it will feel like when I do that with my tongue…” he
heard Spike say. The image was so powerful that Xander was almost aching with
want.
“Oh my god, yes… Spike… Yes, oh please, let me…” Xander babbled. His
hips were moving faster now, rubbing his rock hard cock against his arm.
“Please, Spike, anything… just let me… I need to…”
“Right then, touch your cock for me, grip it hard, real tight, hot… oh
God!”
With a sigh of relief Xander grabbed his leaking shaft and began to
wildly thrust into the tight channel of his fist. “Oh god, Spike, oh yes,
fuck,” he exclaimed, as he increased the speed of his pumping movements. “I’m…
gonna… come, Spiiike ooooh…”
He came with a loud, drawn out groan, shooting his come in several
spurts all over his pajama top.
When he had stopped convulsing in what was definitely the most intense
orgasm he had ever achieved without anyone else touching him, Xander could
still hear Spike panting and moaning urgently, as he strained towards his own
release.
“Spike, I want you,” Xander said, still out of breath and still too much
in awe of that powerful climax to feel inhibited in any way. “I want you so
much. I wanna hear you come, Spike. Come for me.”
“Oh yeah, pet, I… oh Xan…!”
HONK! Xander almost dropped his phone.
“Spike?”
“It’s alright,” was the delayed and slightly sheepish response. “Hit the
horn by mistake.”
“Tsk tsk.” Xander grinned.
Xander heard a “clink” and identified it as Spike’s lighter being used. He
sat up, squinting at his messy top. He grabbed the tissue box and began to wipe
off his come from his fingers and his now flaccid but content cock.
“Are you coming here or are you going to your crypt?” he asked, as his
capacity for coherent thought returned. “Ahn and I are going to sleep, it’s
already past midnight and it’ll be really late by the time you get here, but I
could get the sofa ready and leave the door to the balcony open. We could have
breakfast tomorrow. No work on Sunday, remember? Maybe, I dunno, it might be a
good idea if you’re around, when I tell Anya.”
“Right then. I’ll come over. But only if I can use your bathtub again.
And I’m not promising breakfast, you hear me, Harris?”
Xander didn’t need to see the smirk to know it was there. It was
strangely reassuring that after everything that had happened Spike was, well,
still Spike.
“Sure, Spike. Just drive carefully. This is America, the country where
cars are extra flammable, in movies anyway, and so are you.”
“I’m touched. You’ll want me to wear condoms next,” Spike snickered.
“Say hi to Anya. See you in the morning.”
The connection was cut.
Xander smiled, took off his pajamas, hid them underneath the bed and
slipped into clean ones. Then he made his way into the living room to pull the
blinds and get the sofa ready for his favorite undead house guest.