TITLE:
Payback's a Bitch
AUTHOR: mailto:Xanpet2000@aol.com
SERIES: None, absolutely not. Do not encourage me to start any more
series.
RATING: NC17
WARNING: M/M slash. This story contains, violence, non-consensual
sex, and other nasties. It has a positive message, but if these things
squick you, please don't put yourself through it.
PAIRING: S/X
SUMMARY: Based on the challenge issued by Steffi: In order to make peace
with Xander, (or at least a kind of ceasefire) Spike offers Xander an
opportunity to get even: One hour of payback for past insults and Spike's
involvement with Anya.
"Sixty minutes. You say it - I do it. You dish it - I take
it."
What does Xander do with his one hour of power?
CATEGORY: Angst
SPOILERS: The challenge stipulated that this had to be set in season 7 so
there are some spoilers for that season, bearing in mind I have seen just three
episodes! All the slights Spike committed are from seasons 2-6 and I mean
all of them. I went through and watched every one of their scenes.
I don't think I've missed anything.
DISCLAIMER: If you can name the actor that plays them, they're not
mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and all his little friends. I do
earn a living but not from this. This I do for fun.
DEDICATION: To Steffi who came up with the idea and beta read for
me. You're great as always.
Payback's a Bitch
"Oh Jesus!" This was
the last thing Xander needed when he came in from a hard day's work and a hard
night's slayage. He looked at the crouched, absurdly frog-like figure,
with his arms cradled over that 'Billy Idol reject' hair, more with derision
than sympathy.
It was pitiful sight but he found it difficult to summon up an ounce of pity
for the poor deluded vampire in his home. "Go do insanity mambo
number five in your room," he snapped, pointing uselessly in that
direction. Spike was coiled foetal and couldn't actually see him.
Spike said something but in his hunched position, Xander heard no more than
mumbles. "What was that?"
The vampire raised his head. His blue eyes glistening, "They're
weak, 's all. The weak can never forgive."
"Whatever Spike. I'm going to bed. Have a nice rant!"
Xander didn't even feel Spike move, but by the time he reached the bedroom
door, Spike was leaning against the frame, "Can you?"
"Can do a lot of things, Mindfuck. Can kick your lily-white butt for
a start. Now move."
"Forgive me?" Said Spike as if Xander hadn't spoken.
"Forgive? That's just me, giving up my right to hurt you for hurting
me. So not gonna happen. Now payback - that I can handle.
Guess I'm just a child of a vigilante society."
"Or maybe you shacked up with a vengeance demon too long."
Xander grunted and shoved Spike aside. The vampire let him pass but
stayed in the doorway, "What would you do anyway? If you could pay
me back for any little slights?"
"LITTLE SLIGHTS! You had sex with my..."
"You dumped her."
"It hurt."
Spike sighed, "Wasn't meant to. I'm sorr..."
"Don't. Just go away Spike."
But still Spike didn't move, "An hour." He said suddenly,
"Anything you want. Hurt me like I hurt you. If I'm not in the
dust buster by the time it's up - I'll consider myself forgiven."
With that, he was gone.
Xander mulled it over while he washed up for bed. Before he hit the sack
he knocked gently on Spike's door, "Did you mean it or was it the pixies
talking?"
"I meant it," said a detached voice in the dark.
It was deep and rumbling, "Almost sexual," Xander thought.
"One hour of power, to prove payback's a bitch?" He said aloud.
"Sixty minutes. You say it - I do it. You dish it - I take
it."
"Do I get time to plan?"
"You plan?" That was said with a slight hint of humour.
"You're just adding to it aren't you? God, are you in a self
flagellating kinda place?"
"You want me to flagellate? Cos that can be done."
"No, I want a twenty-four hour thinking window, glorified bricklayer,
remember? Oh, oh, had an idea - payback's suddenly grown a shiny coat and
a tail."
"Twenty-four hours. Then maybe we can bury the hatchet. Find
some kind of peace." The last wasn't said to Xander, he was
sure. "Peace and quiet. Quiet and peace. Let me rest,
please...." Spike was away again so Xander went to bed.
It took him the best part of those twenty-four hours, to find and buy the
equipment he needed. That and to get just drunk enough to carry out the
acts he had planned. Xander called in a few favours and was generally
pleased with what he had lined up for the blond bombshell.
However, it surprised him just how nervous he felt when he got home, despite
the drink. Ultimate power alone was a heady brew. He literally had
the existence of another in his hands. Spike was in such a mental state
he wouldn't save himself. Xander had no real intention of destroying the
vampire, but when your bottom had no safety triggers...? Maybe this
wasn't such a good idea. Nope, Spike was the one who'd suggested it, for
whatever reason and Xander wasn't passing it up.
"Ready?" Asked Spike, waiting in the living room, "Not
backing out."
Xander shook his head and steeled himself. It wasn't as if the vampire
hadn't had it coming to him and Xander was just the person to deal it out.
"When does the sixty minutes of pain start, then?"
"Now," snarled Xander producing a baseball bat. The wood made a
sickening thud as it collided with Spike's skull and the vampire crumpled to
the floor.
He came round, nearly naked, but otherwise still lying on the living room
carpet. "Thinking you've wasted the best part of your hour there,
pet," he groaned, sitting up and touching the egg on the side of his head
gingerly.
"Let me worry about the clock and don't ever call me pet. While
we're on the subject, don't ever again call me special ed, lack-brain, tenth
grade loser, groupie or nit either. And yes, I know what they are.
You're the big cootie. Oh and case you're wondering, that was for
wrapping a microscope round my head."
"The witch gave it to me."
Spike suddenly looked past Xander to some unseen voice. "And don't
you start. I'm trying, 'kay? Atoning. Can't do it while
you're watching." He waved his arms wildly, at his invisible
tormentors.
Xander looked behind him, involuntarily. Oh, this was going to be
fun! Spike and all his little wizards.
"Look could we, maybe, do this without the invisible Greek Chorus, cos I
have to say, not doing a whole lot for my concentration here."
Spike shook his head aggressively but it didn't help. Trying his best to
ignore the raving, Xander pulled out a tub of live fish bait, "In the
words of Weird Al Jankowitz, eat it."
"Huh?" That brought Spike back to the land of the vaguely
coherent.
"That's for the bug man. Order of Maracas."
"Taraka."
"Whatever. Just eat it."
Spike seemed almost his old snarky self, "Not exactly challenging for a
vampire," he smirked and, using the lid as a scoop, he began to shovel
down the wiggling bait.
Alcohol and this scene did not go together and Xander's stomach did the once
over. He knew he'd gone green when Spike grinned. "Not gonna toss
your cookies on me shoes?" The vampire asked with his mouth full,
revealing the squirming bait on his tongue.
"Eww. Okay, okay enough evil undead. Go. Bathroom.
Now and be quick. Time's a wasting in Spike and Xander's hour of
fun."
"That was not one of your best ideas, X-man," Xander berated himself
mentally, once Spike had disappeared to clean out his mouth. He took a
few long deep breaths. Payback was not sitting and begging like a good
little puppy.
Spike returned, "Is it all going to be that entertaining? Tickled
all the way down, they did."
"If you don't shut it, I'll use this!" And the young man
produced a ball gag from his bag of goodies. The vampire's eyes widened
appropriately, "Then the rest of the time won't be nearly as
entertaining."
"What you got in mind?"
"Anything can happen in the next half hour. Might peel you in one
long strip."
It was meant to be a joke, really it was. But Spike flipped at that
remark. He roared, his features morphed and Xander reached hurriedly for
the bat.
He watched while Spike fought to regain control. "Didn't do it
though, did I, you saggy-arsed hell bitch. Not then, not now.
Didn't tell. Hands in me and I didn't tell. Never hurt the little
bit. Never hurt her."
Xander finally lost patience, "Tell your pretend buddies to get
lost!" Spike stared at him, like he'd spoken Vulcan. "For
this hour, I'm the master, I'm the top. I'm big, you're small, I'm smart,
you're dumb, I'm right, you're wrong and there's not a damn thing they can do about
it, so they can beat it. Got that?"
He stalked back to his bag, dumped the bat and produced a tube of gel. He
tossed it at Spike who read the label with interest. Maybe it was shock,
at Xander being so forceful but as quickly, as the psychotic episode started,
it stopped, almost as if Xander had scared the demons away with the vehemence
of his rant. Holding the tube, Spike looked quizzically at his would-be
torturer.
"You'll find out," said Xander in answer to the look. He
removed his own pants and boxers, and spread himself luxuriously on the sofa,
trying to get back into the mood, "The set isn't right of course.
Not dank and dark enough for most of my humiliations. Too many utilities
in full working order, so just work with me here. Angel offered you a
taste of Crème de la Xander, but you didn't bite."
"Are you blaming me for not biting you...or for considering it?"
"Yes. No. Both. It doesn't matter. What matters
is, that's where it started, right? Ground Zero. Cordy, Anya,
everything that's gone wrong can be traced back to you. Six degrees of
separation, and there you are. So for threatening to eat me once I'd died
of Syphilis, for scoping my ass, while you were tied to a chair..."
"Did NOT!"
"Did too! And for calling me a nummytreat..."
"You were the one who used moist and delicious."
"Yup and you're about to find out just how. Now on your knees and
lick my butt."
To be fair Spike went about his punishment with practiced ease. Some
might even say relish. Xander tried not to think about what had been on
Spike's tongue minutes before and concentrated on the amazing sensations from
below. Apart from smoothing cool, raspberry-flavoured gel, against his
hole, Spike didn't use his hands. He blew gently and Xander
contracted. He lapped and suckled at the puckered opening, wiggling his
tongue into the hole until Xander gasped.
It felt so good. Was payback supposed to be this good? Spike
continued his ministrations. Cool palms were pressed against Xander's
inner thighs, holding him open. Soft hair brushed intermittently across
Xander's scrotum and that magic two inches between there, and his burning hole.
Spike's rough cat-like tongue warmed against Xander's body. He would stop
licking every now and again to suck hard, making Xander moan above him. It
was so achingly good that Xander nearly forgot the rest of his revenge
campaign.
"Stop," he said eventually. His voice sounded husky, full of
lust and he was sporting a raging hard-on courtesy of a damn fine
rimming. That was okay; it would come in handy soon. "But not
yet. Ritual humiliation of nemesis first," he thought.
Staggering slightly, he got up and went back to the bag. "Here, put
these on and lose the jeans," and he tossed a dress, falsies and a wig at
the still kneeling vampire.
Although Spike didn't looked up, he caught all the attire neatly and examined
it, "Don't remember this, Xander. You sure this is my payback or am
I reaping someone else's seed?"
"Told you, you're humiliation central. Now do I have to remind
you?" And he retrieved the gag, swinging it menacingly at the blond.
He knew Spike had nothing to do with this. Not every bad could be pinned
on the vampire, but payback wasn't about fair. It was about having a
convenient punch bag for all your little achies. It was about allowing
years of degradation to boil up into a monster and setting that monster
loose.
Spike looked...well - frankly ridiculous but then that was the point
right? Xander pulled out a Polaroid and took several shots, while the
vampire stood unmoving, his expression blank.
Now for the coup de gras, "On your knees." Snapped Xander,
pushing him from behind, "Now who's the puffed up manly man? Lean
forward. You told my friends I was joining the army. Like taking my
orders, Spike? Head down, boy. That's right, arms wide. Now
spread 'em." Just like the best drill sergeant, Xander had Spike
exactly where he wanted him. He was bent forward, head resting on the
sofa, arms out-stretched, crucified. The dress had ridden up to reveal the tops
of his tightly muscled legs and creamy buttocks.
He stayed perfectly still, while Xander again dug in his bag. This time
he came up with a paddle. He brought it down hard, without warning on
Spike's behind. The vampire bucked with the savagery of the blow but made
no sound. "This is for slapping my ass at the hospital."
"I hit your head," Spike muttered into the sofa cushions.
"Then my ass. There was definitely hand to ass contact,"
another resounding slap. The paddle came down again and again.
Xander found the whole scenario increasingly turned him on. Here was a
sub, dressed in a frock, allowing him to beat his ass with a piece of
wood. The power rush was intoxicating. Spike was no longer an
individual; he was a thing, a piece of meat for Xander to vent his spleen on.
The harder Xander hit him, the harder he wanted to. He'd played with
spanking with Anya but never like this. Never with such a conscious
desire to inflict pain. By now Anya's ass would have been bright red and
throbbing, hot to the touch, but Spike remained as pale and smooth as
ever. Thin welts were appearing, Xander kept going until he realised they
were turning purple. The vampire was bruising, shit!
Xander tossed the paddle over his shoulder and reached for the gel. He
quickly slicked the first two fingers of his left hand and, bending over
Spike's shoulder whispered into his ear, "You just gotta hate being
British, don't ya? See if you were American, you'd have flipped me the
finger, then you'd only be getting one of these babies. But as you Limeys
got that whole two-fingered gesture going...you gonna get both, right up your
ass."
Spike gasped in pained surprise. Xander wasn't trying for gentle.
He knitted the fingers together and thrust them inside with one push.
"Head down, fangless," and Xander held him in place by the back of
his head, while he finger fucked that tight cool space. He had no idea
what he was doing. He wasn't trying for pleasure; he just hammered in and
out, without mercy.
"And this is for doing bad Anya impressions in a crap American
accent. Scratch that, this is for doing crap American accents,
period. And for pointing a gun at me."
"The.... Oh fuck! ...The gun...was fake." Spike
struggled to answer him, "You really...agh.... You really are...fishing
now."
"Is anyone talking to you?"
"They all are. ...All of them."
The demon chorus was back. Shit! Pulling out his fingers, Xander
quickly slicked his cock and ploughed back in. He pounded at Spike's used
entrance, ignoring the fact that his victim was having another episode,
"Setting us against one another, adding to my pain when I was travel sick,
ramming me into a tree, thinking I was ever going to swallow that exercise
crap. And this," he kept on fucking, fucking and ranting, "this
is for Anya. You had no right - say it." He wrenched off the
wig and grabbed a handful of bleached hair.
"Had no right."
"And for blabbing on Buffy, touching Buffy, sniffing around, harassing and
trying to rape Buffy. What does it feel like, huh? Having a glorified
bricklayer jump your bones."
Spike rocked back and forth with the ferocity of the assault. The falsies
dragged against the edge of the sofa. The dress ripped at the
seams. Xander carried on in his fury, "She didn't want it, didn't
want you. She likes her men dangerous and mean, not homicidal and
useless!"
The room swam. His vision blurred. Xander felt his pulse in his
throat, his ears sang and his face burned. The last time he'd felt like
this was so long ago. Memories surfaced of being sixteen again, of
demanding to be noticed. Of a classroom, a girl and....
"Oh Godddd," he groaned, throwing his head back in sudden realisation
of exactly what he was doing. He pulled himself from Spike and headed for
the bathroom to vomit in the toilet pan. He retched up beer and bile.
"Oh God, oh God!" What had he done? "It's quite
simple lack-brain," said the snarky voice inside his head.
Rape. He had one good, old-fashioned buggery under his belt. He'd
raped the mentally unstable vampire throughout a psychotic episode. He
braced himself against the sink, the room still swaying gently, "Oh
God," he whispered.
"D'you think he's listening?" Said a soft English voice from
the doorway.
"I'm so sorr..."
"Don't apologise. Payback's a bitch." Spike came into the
room. He'd shed the costume but there were fabric burn marks on his chest
and stomach. He helped Xander to his feet and sat him down on the edge of
the bath. Wetting a washcloth, he placed it against the young man's forehead.
For a while, they sat there, saying nothing. Spike naked and Xander in
nothing but his shirt.
"You know," Spike started, "funny thing, revenge. It's
never as sweet as it sounds. Try to pay a monster in his own coin you
just become the monster. Think, for a while there you took a walk in my
shoes."
Xander shivered. He knew the truth of this. He understood the
vampire better now than he ever had before. He knew what drove him, what
base desires and hidden nasties had pushed him to do what he did. For
without a soul there'd been nothing to stop him.
Spike filled a tooth mug with water and Xander rinsed his mouth, "I was
possessed once you know," he said finally, staring at the lino
tiles. "This hyena spirit thing, when I was sixteen. I...I
tried it on with Buffy. I thought I could make her want me. I tried...I ..."
"Shh, it's okay,
pet." Said Spike gently, running a finger against Xander's
jaw. Xander didn't tell him not to call him pet. "That demon's
gone."
The brunet gave a short laugh and pulled away, "How are yours?"
He asked.
"Strangely quiet. Maybe you exorcised them an' all."
They sat until Xander, looking up, met Spike's eyes directly. He could
see William's soul, concerned, staring back at him. He leant in towards
it, Spike closed the distance between them, and they were kissing. It was
deep and sweet. Xander felt Spike thread his fingers through his hair,
the other hand resting on his knee. He brought both his hands to the
vampire's naked waist and still they kissed.
It was Spike that broke it. "So two questions, how long is this hour
and when does it finish?"
"I cheated."
"I get that."
"Kinda asked Willow for a magical extension on the hour. Told her I
wanted you to do housework. The spell started when I said now and stops
when I say finish. Which I guess I just did so... " His voice
trailed off. Spike was gonna want some serious payback for tonight and
that puppy had teeth!
Spike cupped his hand under Xander's chin, "Wanna finish what you
started?"
"Raping you!"
"No. But it wasn't all bad. Vampire, remember? A little
violence goes a long way. Never dared to dream you'd want me at
all," and he swept Xander up into his arms.
Xander was too surprised by the confession to react except to think, "Eep,
vampire strength!" as his feet left the floor.
Still holding the washcloth, Spike carried the young man into the
bedroom. He carefully placed him on the bed and cleaned the gel, and a
little blood, away from Xander's cock and balls. He tossed the cloth
quickly under the bed. It wouldn't do for Xander to see that. He
was shocked enough as it was by what he'd been capable of.
Spike knew what it was like to have that much power over another being.
He should never have given it to Xander. Now he just wanted to make it
right. Make it right between them. He lowered his head to Xander's
clean but flaccid cock and began to suck, laving the shaft from root to tip.
Xander's eyes opened wide at the sensation, "Spike please, you don't have
to. Not now. The hour was up hours ago, honest."
"Want to, Xander, let me?"
Xander paused before nodding his head and Spike went back to his
ministrations. He was pleased when he felt the young man relax and his
cock begin to fill and swell. He took him all the way down, coating his
cock in saliva, making it slippery and wet. He hummed gently, fondling
Xander's balls, caressing the inside of his thigh. He knew that every
sensation he created meant another plank in the bridge of reconciliation.
Once Xander was fully aroused, Spike rose over him and lowered himself onto
Xander's hot member. Xander sucked air through his teeth as Spike's cool
body enveloped him once more.
Spike rode on Xander at a leisurely pace. He took the brunet's hands,
knitting their fingers and holding them high above Xander's head. Their
eyes met, locked and Xander thrust upwards, increasing the pace.
Letting go with one hand, Spike wrapped a fist around his own cock, only to
have it batted away, "Let me," said Xander, his voice thick with need
and want.
The vampire allowed Xander to wank him in his searing palm, riding him harder,
straining to reach climax. "Yes, oh Xander. Fuck!
Yessss." He cried shooting semen in pearly drops onto tanned skin.
"AGHHHhhhhh!" Groaned Xander, almost dislodging his lover with
the force of his orgasm.
Spike toppled off him and for a while they both lay spent and done. Spike
slid towards Xander, spooning into the young man's back, carding his thick dark
hair.
"You know, maybe I'm not as bad to you, as you think I am, luv."
"Don't love me," said Xander sleepily.
"Don't love you? Might be a bit late for that."
Xander didn't answer. Spike smiled to himself, listening to the change in
the young man's breathing that told him Xander was drifting into a settled
sleep. They'd certainly reached a kind of truce if not the peace he so
desperately needed. And for now, that was enough. Payback was
indeed a bitch, he thought, "She's finished her kibble and bitten us both
in the arse."
And not even Ultimate Evil was going to disagree with him.
The End