Spike’s POV

My new cage: Xander fucking Harris’ bloody basement.

When I'm not tied to a chair; I'm trapped by the sun.

Fucking nuts is what I get here, bleeding fucking damn nuts.

 

But I found myself a prezzie today. Strolled through the house while Harris’ idiot parents were out. Discovered a nice stack of booze. Cheap booze, nevertheless alcohol to make the time pass faster, make it blur and whirl without meaning.

 

It’s a way to avoid facing things. Alcohol is. Sometimes it’s the only way to face things without breaking apart and crying like some stupid bint. Or so I tell myself. More and more successfully with every drop of the liquid fire burning down my throat.

 

By the time I hear the heavy steps of working boots nearing, announcing the whelp’s appearance, I am in the 'everything-is-so-fucking-funny-I-will-start-to-bawl-any-moment-now' state.

 

Bloody fucking he… llo, gorgeous! Didn’t know the whelp was hiding that body from me! I can bloody well feel my eyes bugging when I take in the bared torso, the blue dirty jeans riding low on his hips, the t-shirt hanging out of the tool box he carries, making the biceps jump when he pulls it up to place it on the sideboard.

 

"Spike." He greets through gritted teeth. Angry. "Where did you get the bottles?" He points first to the two empty ones on the floor then to the one in my hand. I watch his pecs flex, working. Bottles? What bottles? Where did you get those abs?

 

I think I just keep grinning madly at him. It’s not that I could actually say something without making a slippery innuendo. And that was not the brightest idea I’d ever had.

 

Stomping hard on the floor, he comes towards me, his face distorted with rage, the muscles on the tanned torso dancing seductively.

 

With my mind still on the delicious body, I react on instinct only.

Like a child I pull my bottle behind my back. To do this while sitting on a chair, I have to arch my back, thrust my hips forward, square my shoulders.

 

Grabbing for the bottle, his hand follows mine behind my back, closes around the bottle neck, the other hand supports his weight on the arm of the chair. His face is now so near to mine, less than two inches between our lips.

 

And now I can feel it:

Through the red button-up and the black t-shirt seeps his heat.

His whole body radiates heat after he’s spent a day working in the sunshine.

Delicious, searing heat.

Nothing like the burning of the cheap booze down my throat.

This is real.

This is as close as I can get to the sun: bathing in the borrowed warmth, enjoying the lingering traces of deadly rays of sunlight secondhand.

 

I breathe in deeply, scenting what the shining globe did to him.

Smelling sun warmed dirt, sun caused perspiration, sun bleached hair, sun colored skin.

Smelling sunshine.

Pure simple spiritual light.

Cleansing light.

All devouring, all demanding, all causing, all including light.

 

I open my eyes to glistening dark pools.

"Spike have you…"

"Can I touch you?" My voice is hoarse, breathless and needy. "Please." Whispered.

 

The anger disappears from his eyes and confusion clouds them.

"Spike?" So confused.

"Wanna touch you. Can I touch you? Let me touch you…" I am whining now, I don’t care. I just have to have some of the heat, the light, the sun that clings to him.

 

"Spike, you’re drunk. You…" He trails off, when my hand comes up, hovers millimeters over the tanned skin of one of his pecs. He shudders lightly when he feels my coldness chilling his flesh. His nipple rises, begs to be touched. Standing taut and erect the tiny nub covers the missing distance, stretches to my waiting finger tip.

 

It feels like the littlest hot poker against my digit and he gasps, when finally the small contact is registered by his brain. My finger has to feel like an ice cube to his sun heated flesh.

Third Person’s POV

"Spike…"

"Ssshh." Gaze fixed on the finger barely touching the nipple.  Xander looks intently at Spike’s face, studying the sharp features, the long lashes.

“Spike…” No annoyance, just the need for an explanation is in his voice.

Long lashes blink as if clearing a picture and blue eyes snap up – Xander draws in a breath sharply, surprised to see tears hovering so close to the surface.

The vampire’s gaze drops again to the taut nipple pressed against the tip of his finger. The only place their bodies are connected.

“Tell me.” A whispered plea.

A slight shake of a blond head.

Xander sways forward a little, pressing into Spike’s touch, as if to nudge him into answering.

Absently Spike’s pale digit starts to play with the hard nub, rubbing it up and down and circling around it.

Up and down and around.

Up and down and around.

He begins to speak without lifting his head, whispering as if talking to himself.

“He took it away from me.” Voice hoarse from underlying pain. Need. Want.

Without thinking Xander slides his hand down the bottle’s neck, covers Spike’s cool fingers with his own. Spike’s hand stops playing with the nipple, lays down flat against the bulging pec. Feeling the coldness seeping into his skin, Xander gives a full body shudder.

“I am cold. Everything is cold.” Spike breathes in deeply, getting control over his wobbly emotions. “Don’t have no-one warming me. Not even the sun.”

A wave of understanding crashes over Xander.

His arm snakes around Spike without conscious thought.

He only wants to ease the pain.

The coldness.

He is shocked how thin, how breakable the vampire in his grasp feels. He fastens his grip, as if he is afraid the smaller man would slip away any moment.

“Don’t wanna be cold anymore. Warm me up? Just for a little while, just for…”

Words fading away when the warm arm around him pulls his body close, chest to chest. Whimpering and sobbing melt to a moan of ultimate pleasure, when searing, unexpected heat fades to enveloping warmth.

In time they both abandon the bottle, Xander to grab the vampire’s bottom and haul him up. Spike’s long muscular legs come up to close around Xander’s waist; his hand grips the collar of the black shirt, ripping it open.

Naked chest to naked chest.

Skin to skin.

Hot to cold.

Melting to comfortable warmth.

Now done its duty, Spike’s hand can tangle in brown hair, trying to force the youth’s face away from his neck.

“Spike, don’t.” Pleading for mercy.

“You feel so good, Xan. So warm, so hot against me…”

“Spike…” Moaning loudly. Not knowing if he wants the vampire to stop or to go on. Feels like he's about to lose control any moment. Like he will take advantage of Spike who only asked to be warmed ~ loved ~ for a while.

“Xan, wanna feel all your warmth. Feel your heat everywhere. On me.”

Thrusting desperately against the hard cock trapped in dirty blue jeans.

“Inside me.” Thrust.

“Please.” Thrust.

Xander’ s POV

 

“Spike…” throaty whisper against the skin of his neck. He's so cold. Is it normal that he is this cold?

“Please.” He whines again, close to begging. Desperation so heavy in his voice, in his movements. I feel his earlobe against my lips and take it between my teeth. I close my mouth around it and suck it, sharply. It makes Spike gasp, thrusting hard against me. God, just the right pressure, just enough friction to get me harder with every hip roll.

Whenever I pictured Spike with me, I never thought it would be like this. I saw him topping me, teaching and impressing me with skills you get when you are young and beautiful for more than 120 years. But this?

 

I am nearly overwhelmed by his need, it makes all this so much more complicated. He is a fantasy to jerk off to, not a secret crush, damnit.

He tugs my hair harder, wanting me to go on. I rub my nose and mouth against the side of his face, tongue sliding out to explore the sharp cheek bone. More moaning when I lick along that strong jaw bone to his chin. He lets his head fall back a bit and I nibble his chin, biting it playfully until…

 

Until he moves his head again, fusing our lips together. Have I ever thought about kissing Spike, ever tossed off to more than just imagining his cock buried balls deep in my hole? No, but I should have…

No playful licks or bites, just his tongue invading my mouth forcefully, gliding in and against tongue, palate and teeth…

This is not about control; this is just a man one time too often left back, alone and lost.

 

I carry him over to the bed and bow down, laying him on his back, helping him to get out of the shredded shirt and the button-up. On my knees, his legs still securely wrapped around my waist, I look down at him. He shivers. Anticipation or cold?

Covering him with my body, tongue joining tongue again, hoarse cries and soothing whispers mingle together.

 

Cool hands glide up and down my back, no nails, just feeling for more of my heat. My head is thrown back by now, Spike is licking and nibbling along my throat, I want him deeper, want him to suck and bite my nipples, but… His hands find the button of my jeans, open it and slide down the zip, freeing my leaking cock. I hold in a breath, waiting for his first touch, equally anticipating and dreading it. So much depends on it… But god, Spike does it just right. Soft, long fingers close around my hard shaft in just the right way. Firm but gentle, promising expertise and sensitivity.

Two strokes up and down the whole length and his hand is gone, leaving me twitching with want.

 

He unwraps his legs, opens his jeans too, but before I get a good look, his hands are on my hips, tugging on my jeans, tugging to get them off. I smile at him and lean forward, supporting my weight on my hands over his head on the bed so he can push them down.

His head shoots up, his mouth closes around my nipple. I gasp totally surprised; I did not expect to get this treatment any more. Cool lips around my areola, sucking the nipple hard, his oh so cool tongue laps over the hard nub roughly. I cry out and moan and lean further into his mouth, wanting more of this sensation. I start, nearly protesting when his mouth leaves my saliva slicked nipple, but he blows cool air over it, causing it to swell even more.

I get dizzy when his tongue wanders over to my other nipple; only stopping to lick up the thin layer of sweat between my pecs. His hands are in my half down jeans, holding my ass cheeks in a strong grip, spreading them as if presenting my opening to the room. My hips are thrusting against him, exposed hardness against equally exposed hardness, humping him mindlessly to the sounds of his sucking and lapping on my nipples. Just when I think, I can’t take it anymore, he holds my hips still, not allowing any friction or pressure and bites my nipples almost violently. My back arches and again I cry out, my voice hoarse and throaty. Thankfully, he avoids any movement of my hips or I would have just finished off like this.

 

He rubs his forehead against my chest like a cat seeking contact, gives me time to calm down a bit.

 

Slowly I start leaning back until I sit on my heels again, all the way pressing kisses to cool skin and licking the pale body. Forehead, cheeks, upper lip, lower lip, chin, throat, collarbone, nipples, chest, and belly. Finally I'm able to get a look from up-close and what I see is making my lips part on their own. I inhale his musky scent; increasing my own need for more. Just when my mouth makes contact with the soft skin of his fat cock head, he grabs me by the hair urgently, pulling me away. A frustrated groan escapes me. “Too hot, too close.” He chokes out, abs rippling seductively under tension.

 

I get up, sliding his jeans, boots and socks off on my way. While I pull off my own jeans, shoes and socks I look at him, trying to memorize this picture for the rest of my life.  His muscled body lying there, feet flat on the bed, legs spread, cock and balls taut, a drop of pre-cum glistening. Wide blue eyes, lips parted, unnecessarily panting.

 

Waiting for me.

 

My throat releases a sound, something between whimpering and sighing, before I am back on the bed, covering the shivering body again with mine. I kiss Spike, letting all the attraction and want I feel for him bleed into that soft but urgent mingling of lips and tongues. “Want you.” he murmurs against my chin. “Inside me.”

 

I think he hasn’t even realized I was searching for the lube under the pillow while I kissed him. Spike moans and stretches his legs even wider, when he hears the cap clack open. He pushes against me and with only one elbow bracing myself I roll on my back, taking him with me, chest to chest still. His leg comes up and he rests his knee on my hip. Now he is wide spread for me, I can easily reach between his muscled cheeks and prepare him for more.

Third Person’s POV

 

With practiced ease Xander got a huge drop of lube on his fingers. He grabbed Spike by the hair in his neck, pulled him into a kiss. The vampire’s moan was muffled against the youth's mouth when he felt the hot wet fingers slide down his buttocks.

Slowly Xander rubs just the beginning of the cleft, teasing. Spike feels the drop of lube slide down between his cheeks till it wets his opening. The rubs the dark haired man makes get longer until he reaches the puckered flesh and ... Spike’s hips jerk forward, shying away from the unfamiliar warm finger there.

"Ssshh..." Xander tries to calm the gasping blond, sucking the soft bottom lip in his mouth.

His finger never leaves the position over the clenched hole, just stays there, and lets Spike get used to the touch.

Only a few seconds go by until Xander feels Spike relax and he starts to caress his goal. His tongue mirrors the movement of his digit; licking circles on Spike’s half closed lips, dipping in between lightly, with every dip a little bit deeper.

 

Spike moans, stunned by the experience and tenderness Xander shows. He never thought of Xander as a gentle lover, at ease with a man in his bed. He hadn’t dared to hope for it.

A warm hand plays in his hair; warm lips are worshipping his mouth and one warm wet finger tip… oh so gently slides inside him, so slowly, careful not to hurt him.

Moaning, Spike pushes down on the digit, needing more of it inside him. Xander lets him go at his own pace, just giving enough resistance for the blond to work himself completely on it. Xander loves the intimacy of this, watching Spike’s eyelids flutter, when he clenches around the second knuckle, then relaxes and gives way for all of it.

 

“Want more?” Xander whispers against Spike’s lip, biting the addictive lower lip playfully.

“Morrrrre.” The vampire purrs, sucking Xander’s tongue inside his mouth with force, making clear, how much he needs more. Taking the hint, one more of Xander’s fingers joins the first. Whimpering, the blonde squirms higher on the hot body until his nipple is over the warm mouth, which latches onto the hard nub immediately.

 

After that everything seems to spin out of control, frantically Xander works his finger deeply in Spike’s tight hole. The blond trembles over him, moaning and crying out for more. Forcefully Xander pushes Spike on his back, rolls onto him and makes Spike mewl with the weight pressing down on him. Panting and hectically searching for the lube, finding it, squeezing out too much, smearing it over his hard cock, Spike’s leaking dick, when he gives it some strokes and even more over and in the tight hole, greedily grasping for his by now three fingers. Hard kisses, feverishly clashing tongues and bumping teeth but who cares? Not these two men lost in sensations.

Grunting Spike lifts up his legs, crosses the ankles behind Xander’s back, moving so that Xander’s hard dick rests in between his cleft, the hot tip pressed against his opening. He can’t wait anymore, he has to feel the heat of his partner inside him. NOW.

 

But Xander slows down everything; even the world seems to hold its breath.

 

Elbows resting besides Spike’s shoulders, both hands entwined with the blond hair, holding Spike’s head back, making him look in his eyes while he slides inside him inch by inch. Half way sheathed in that incredible tightness Xander stops, takes deep, deep breaths, desperately grasping for control.

“How long?” He gasps out. Hearing Xander’s voice rough like this, the warm breath puffing over his face, the cock head pressing firmly against his prostate, nearly does Spike in. He arches his back, wants so badly to be completely filled by this searing hotness. “Over eighty ye…” Crying out when Xander’s hips jerk forward, Xander’s balls hitting his bottom, finally he has the whole thick cock inside him as deep as it can go and all movement stops.

 

“Sorrysorry just couldn’t…” “Alrightalrightalright, feels so good…” Spike pants out, lust darkened gazes locked for several moments until… the first light thrust.

 

Spike groans when he feels the hard length move inside him. Everything feels new. Nothing is like he remembers it. The cock inside him is hot, pulsating and throbbing with blood. He panics when he feels only the head of Xander’s cock inside him and clenches down, hard, desperate to hold the searing hot meat inside himself. Xander screams and shoves forward again, deeply embedding his shaft inside the slim blond. “Don’tdon’tdon’tdon’t” he chants and Spike relaxes his ring of muscles, letting the pressure on the thick cock subside.

“God, you’re tight.” He whispers and opens his eyes again to look in Spike’s face. Wide blue eyes stare up in to his, raw emotions laid open. Spike blinks very slowly and then moves his hips.

“Ready for more?” Xander asks with a light grin and Spike crashes his mouth to his.

Taking this as a signal, Xander moves. Pulling his cock out until only the head stays inside. Pushing back until Spike feels filled completely. Long, slow strokes, hitting Spike’s prostate with nearly every deep shove.

 

They are both moaning, grunting, begging for more and they know they won’t last long. Both are desperate to hold back and to let go at the same time. “Harder!” Spike eventually cries out and Xander increases the speed of his thrust. Not enough, not enough.

 

Losing his grip on Spike’s hair, Xander leans back and grabs Spike under his knees, spreading him wide open, holding his legs up and bending the blond even more. Just the right angle to truly fuck him hard and fast.

 

Pounding into Spike without mercy. Getting faster with every shove. Getting deeper than ever before into the clenching tightness. Out of breath and only seconds away from coming he orders Spike to “Work yourself!”. Immediately the blond closes his long fingers around his hard length and starts to pump it furiously.

 

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me.” Xander grits out, fighting a losing battle of fulfilled lust. And Spike arches his back and howls when white creamy ropes of cum shoot from his cock onto his chest. The look of absolute bliss and the fluttering hole around his straining cock are too much for Xander and he cums. Hard. Hips jerking against Spike’s ass with every wave of his climax. Spike whimpers hoarse “Yeah, yeah.” ’s when he feels Xander’s warm cum spurt against his inner walls.

 

Long moments pass until the dark haired man lets himself collapse onto the grinning blonde, burying his face in the pale cool neck.

 

“Mhmm, that’s good. All cool.” He murmurs against the soft skin, sending shivers through Spike’s body. “I’ll just stay here.”

 

Spike’s hands close around the broader frame and he places tiny kisses against Xander’s ear.

“Still cold?” He hears the youth mumble sleepily and warm lips ghost over the skin on his shoulder.

“No, all good now. Feel all warmed up inside.” Spike answers with a light chuckle, but both of them know that he does not mean the cum or the still embedded cock.