Pairing: S/X
Rating: NC-17-ish, I guess…
Disclaimer: Joss owns them. I don’t. But I can offer a shiny new nickel at auction…
Archive: At will and at own risk. Just tell me, k?
FB: Pretty please with nekkid Spander on top...? And whipped cream?
A/N: for and at the suggestion of the lovely, wonderful, fabulous vamptastica, who also made the incredibly porny banner for my LJ. Thanks, babe! You are truly grand! Not sure if this is what you had in mind, but if it doesn't suit, LMK and I'll do another. *grins*
A/N 2: This is a little one-off, really, and I guess as close as I get to PWP.
A/N 3: As usual, this one-off MAY end up with a sequel. *rolls eyes at self* Cuz I'm a masochist that way.

WARNINGS for 20/20 Vision include: Voyeurism, illegal surveillance, um... dunno. But I'm sure someone will be offended by this. LOL

20/20 Vision

by
Tisienne Blue

He’d bought the building for one reason and one reason only, and that reason was currently walking through the front doors even as he thought it.

One finger toggled the zoom lens on the camera—one of nearly twenty that were arranged throughout the parts of the building the man was likely to travel—zeroing closer on the toned form.

That shape was still clothed, but he knew without any sort of doubt that that situation would be changing just as soon as the man entered his unit—number 44B.

He watched closely, fingers tapping out the well-known sequence as the man moved.

Tap… the picture on the monitor changed to show the interior of the elevator.

Tap… the man’s apartment door as it was opened.

Tap… the living room while the man in question closed and bolted that same door behind him.

The watcher moaned softly, his free hand—the one not involved with the buttons on the console of his own apartment on the top floor—finding and releasing the buttons at the front of his pants.

His fingers spread the fabric, dipping inside to wrap around his already seeping shaft and he moaned again as he pulled it completely free of its cotton prison. “Oh… yeah…” he whispered, watching the man open the refrigerator and bend down for one of the beers on the bottom shelf. “Just… like… that, baby…”

He released his cock for a bare moment, dipping his fingers into the open jar of Vaseline beside him before coating himself willfully. He knew what would happen next, after all, and he’d never been a fool, so… slick. Slick was good.

He knew he was being a little perverted; knew he was breaking not only one or two laws but a whole slew of them and yet… he couldn’t seem to care. Just as he couldn’t seem to manage to approach the man in person, not after all the things that had happened in their shared past.

So he watched and felt dirty but also felt… free.

Fingers danced on the console again, following the lean, toned shape into the bathroom, and a long, slow groan echoed in the still air of the penthouse as clothes were removed and a splattered, gore-flecked body stepped into steaming hot water.

It was only then that the watcher allowed himself to flip the toggle for sound.

“So… good…” he heard, the voice slightly tinny as it echoed around him.

But that was fine, he told himself, just as he’d done a good twenty times now. He knew what that voice sounded like without the mechanical tinge. He could remember it very well, even after all this time.

The fingers on his shaft wrapped tighter, starting a slow slide through the Vaseline, and when the naked man stepped from beneath the pounding water and toweled off briefly, he groaned, squeezing hard while his other hand hit another button.

He sighed softly, wantonly, watching the long, graceful form lay down on the bed… and when one hand rose to mirror his own actions, he moaned.

“Yesssss… do it, baby. Let me watch you…”

As though the man had heard him, that hand tightened, sliding slowly up then down that clearly aching shaft and the watcher had never been so glad that he’d spent the extra money for high-resolution colour monitors.

One finger moved seemingly on its own and tabbed the zoom key, the rest of that hand clearly in cahoots with it as they angled the hidden camera to close in on that deep pink, seeping tip.

“Oh… fuck. So… hot…”

The watcher stilled almost completely, but for the hand on his cock, when the man he was watching spoke again—this time with words he hadn’t heard before.

He lay on his bed, slowly pumping himself, and all the while his eyes were closed, picturing one perfect ass, one amazing body.

The fact that he could smell that same body—just as he’d been able to smell it for the last month—only added to his excitement.

It was time, he figured. Time to take the next step. Their secondhand courtship couldn’t go on much longer, and he, for one, wasn’t shy about pushing things.

“Walk into th’ bar,” he said, loud enough that the microphone in the lamp beside the bed should be able to pick up his words, “An’ I see him… likely enough bloke, all dark hair an' eyes… sittin’ with his friends, he is.”

He smirked internally, even as the images he was creating took shape behind his eyelids.

He gasped, mouth open wide, solely for the benefit of the camera in the ceiling above him. It had taken him a good few days to notice the brand new pinprick-sized hole, but he had noticed it in the end.

“Can’t seem ta make myself look at anyone else…” His hand moved a little bit faster as he became more absorbed in his own fantasy, whether it was for himself or not.

“Only see him. All tall an’ dark… bettin’ he’s got another layer of tan on him after th’ last week of bloody heat and sun, I do… or maybe he was always just as dark as he is right now. Don’t know, do I?”

His other hand slid slowly up his chest, nails digging lightly into pale skin and raising small welts until he reached one small nipple.

“Give him a look,” he grunted, one finger slowly circling his own tip, gathering slick droplets of clear fluid and spreading them down, around his throbbing length. “Sees it an’ licks his lips… an’ when I tip my head towards th’ stairs, he gives me a bare nod.”

He pinched and tweaked at the small nub of male flesh he was touching, even as his other hand continued to stroke his yearning cock, then he found himself teasing his other nipple to equal attention before abandoning it.

“Meets me on th’ catwalk, he does,” he mumbled, no longer caring whether his watcher could hear him clearly or not. “Strolls up ta me and just… grabs me. Presses his lips ta mine.” He groaned.

“So bloody hot… those lips, that tongue… ‘s like he’s known what he’s wanted for ages but never had th’ invitation… but I’m invitin’ him now, right? Close ta beggin’ him never ta even take a step away…”

His fingers slowed, matching the pace of the narrative he was engaged in.

“An’ in th’ moment, feels like I’ve always known too, yah…? Been months, years maybe… knowin’ he’s never been cared for th’ way I want ta care for him. Knowin’ nobody’s seen him.” He moaned softly. “Don’t mind that, though, because I see him… see th’ heart inside him. See his brave bloody spirit.”

“Kiss him back, just as hard. Harder. Try ta climb inta him from th’ mouth down, I do… an’ he’s not complainin’. Hell, he’s meetin’ me all equal-like…”

His hand moved faster, the increasing pace eased by the steady dribble of pre-cum, and he rubbed him palm quickly over his tip, gathering more while his other hand skated down pale skin to cup then tug lightly at his tensing sac.

“Can’t bear ta pull away, not even ta ask if he knows what he’s doin’, an’ it doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll know exactly what he’s done by th’ time I let him go back ta his friends, won’t he? Hell, he’ll remember it every time he sits down for a week, won’t he?”

The words were almost enough to have the watcher seeing nothing but black behind closed eyes, and yet… he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t pull himself away from the vision on the screen. Not even when he shifted and pushed the jeans down to his ankles; not even when he leaned back, legs spreading wide as his hands resumed their former occupations could he look away.

He moaned loudly, mirroring the continued actions of the man on the bed, shivering at the suggestive tone as he imagined himself to be in the fantasy… to be the fantasy, although that was so unlikely he’d cry if he thought too much about it.

So no thinking. Instead... “Gods… yes… fuck me. Right there. Please…”

Long, toned legs spread slightly as cool fingers stroked with a carefully measured pace, and when he decided he’d tormented his watcher enough for the moment, he spoke again.

“Let my lips find his jaw… nip just a bit. Just enough ta make th’ skin nice an’ red… just enough ta make him moan all soft an’ wanton-like… an’ he surprises me by diggin’ those thick fingers inta my sides, holdin’ me hard.”

He licked his lips slowly, almost convinced that he could taste the boy there.

“ ‘s not enough. Not even close, yah…? Need ta feel him. Feel his skin, his heat, that bloody stunnin’ cock I know is all hard an’ waitin’ for me.”

“Suck his neck hard, distractin’ him from th’ fact that I’ve got my hands on his pants, an’ by th’ time he does notice, they’re ‘round his knees… boxers too… an’ his bludgeon of a prick is in my palm, my fingers tight just under th’ ridge at th’ top an’ he’s moanin’, whimperin’, beggin’ me ta do somethin’, anythin’, bloody hell, mate, so fuckin’ good.”

His hips rocked slowly against the quickly rumpling sheets as his hands worked faster, moving more firmly on his own throbbing flesh. He gasped softly, eyes closing as he went on.

“Cries out when I stroke him… brown eyes getting’ wider an’ hotter when I sweep my finger—just th’ tip—over him an’ bring one drop of thick wet ta my lips. And when I taste him, know for a fact I have ta have him.”

“Kiss him again,” he panted, groaned, growled, muttered. “Harder, deeper, press inta him an’ then pull away. Need ta deal with my own kit, don’t I? An’ then he’s hot an’ hard and right there touchin’ me, his fuckin’ cock burnin’ inta my skin like a brand… an’ when I turn him ‘round, push him against th’ railing, he holds on to it, lookin’ back at me over his shoulder like he doesn’t know what we’re doin’ but for bloody damn sure wants ta find out an’ I’m just th’ bloke to show him, aren’t I?”

“J-jesus… fuck…”

More Vaseline, this time stroked down his cock and around his balls, over the soft skin just behind them.

A low, deep grunting moan as fingers traced slowly around his own tightly puckered hole and he imagined—yet again—that it was the man on the bed touching him… that he was the one in the blond’s mind, although he wasn’t entirely sure of why he was so set on the one person he could never have.

“Yes… show me… show me what you want, tell me…”

The deep breaths weren’t helping, but then again, he hadn’t truly expected them to.

His hands moved faster still, stroking, squeezing, tugging… staving off the looming orgasm until he could finish his story for the benefit of the man watching him.

“Use his own pre-cum ta slick him up. Wasn’t expectin’ ta find such a perfect bloke in a place like this, after all, so I didn’t come prepared. But he’s excited enough that he’s makin’ more than enough lube for us, an’ when I press up against his back an’ wrap one arm ‘round his waist, he shivers for me… an’ pushes back against my finger.”

He gasped, picturing it in his mind as his head ground back on the mattress, body arching and bowing from the images and his own attentions.

“So bloody tight, he is… an’ he’s whimperin’ again, but not like I’m hurtin’ him. More like… ‘s not enough. So I push another finger in an’ twist my hand, spread him a bit… an’ oh, he jumps like a bloody rabbit when I find that spot, but then he’s pushin’ back even harder, an’ if I’m not in him soon, just might blow on his ass instead of in it, an’…”

He opened his eyes, staring at the pinprick hole fixedly, the otherwise featureless ceiling wiping the pictures from his mind. And good thing, he figured, or he really wouldn’t be able to finish this seduction, or not that night anyway.

“An’ he gasps an’ begs more… ‘Gods… yes… fuck me. Right there. Please…’ he says, not carin’ that he’s just about shoutin’ th’ words out over th’ heads of his friends.”

“ ‘Goin’ ta, luv,’ I tell him, gatherin’ a bit more of his juice an’ mixin’ it with my own… an’ when I move in closer, pressin’ my thick, hard tip ta that tiny little hole of his, he yelps an’ bucks back an’ next thin’ I know, I’m in him, an’ he so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ hot, so fuckin’……”

His eyes slammed closed, hips rising, spine arching almost double, and he couldn’t hold on, couldn’t even try.

“Xander…!” he howled, his face tightening, clenching, twisting quickly to true as he gave up the fight and spilled wild, wicked spurts of thick, rich jism high into the air.

He blinked quickly, eye going almost comically wide at the name the vampire yelled. His fingers twitched reflexively and Xander screamed as they curled into his prostate, his sac tightening and releasing suddenly, sending rough, nearly painful streams of cum onto his chest.

“Z-z-xander…?” he gasped, entirely unaware of the fact that he was still slouched in his chair, three fingers up his own ass, he was that shocked. “Did Spike just say…”

The vampire chuckled silently, even as he scooped one small dollop of milky fluid from its landing spot on his cheek and brought it to his lips.

He laved his finger clean then circled the damp digit around one small, pale pink nipple before jumping gracefully to his feet on the bed and smirking into the camera.

“I’d ask if it was good for you, pet, but I know it was.”

He chuckled again, this time out loud, then cocked a brow at the bloke he knew was there, probably staring blankly at whatever sort of monitor he had set up.

“Fifteen minutes, Xander. Th’ bar on th’ corner. Think we need ta talk, yah…? An’ then… not talk.”

He leapt from the bed and pulled jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser before returning to the mattress and laying back, staring into the camera again.

“Don’t be late. An’ that’s twelve minutes, now.”

It wouldn’t occur to Xander until much, much later that he could have simply ignored Spike’s demand.

In fact, it wouldn’t even be a whisper of an inking of a suspicion of a thought until exactly a month after he literally ran into that bar, panting and short of breath from doing his best to clean himself up and still make it on time.

Then again, even when it did occur to him, he simply pushed the thought aside and spread his legs wider, eye rolled so far back in his head and mind so very in the moment, he neither knew nor cared that there was an entire club full of people only ten or so feet below them as he and his lover celebrated their one month anniversary by enacting the scene Spike had so clearly described.

The End