Second Verse
"Decisions"
Second Verse: Chapter 7 from Spike's point of view
This is the scene where Spike first explores Xander's body but is unable to take him without destroying the smell of Cassidy that he needs to lure Cassidy into the open.
Spike couldn't believe that he was tellin' this boy-child about his life, his family. He never spoke of his turnin' and subsequent break from his family, not since Angelus left—abandoned them to bitch-Darla who hated them with such a passion that their lives had become a livin' hell. He remembered the day his beloved Dru had called Darla "grandmother" one time too many; he remembered the whip marks down her back. His reveries were broken by the boy's voice.
"So you became a master when you left Darla."
"Yep. Took my dark princess and disappeared so that the bitch would never find us. Now she's dead and souled-up Peaches is embarrassed to even think about what he did to me, so I don't have anyone in the line to answer to." Spike spread his fingers on the boy's back, enjoyin' the feeling of body heat under his hand. After Angelus left, Dru had become obsessed with a fear of being abandoned, and he had given up takin' any other partners. At first, he had struggled with it; after all he'd raped his way across Europe with Angelus. He smiled at the memory of the weddin' where Angelus had raped the bride and he had raped the groom in the middle of the church while the dyin' priest watched. Even now the memory warmed him but didn't fully excite him. He had lived for Dru's needs for so long he couldn't imagine takin' another, and in the years since her death, he hadn't. He started circlin' his hand over the boy's back, feelin' the muscles tremble beneath his fingers.
"And you're not smelling of fear any more, pet." Spike scented the air and suddenly the growin' arousal carried hints of embarrassment. He struggled to contain his game face at the thought that the boy might be a virgin. The ever-growing embarrassment certainly supported the theory. He allowed his hand to wander even farther, touchin' the sensitive scar.
"Shit." The boy swore even as his body trembled in anticipation. Now the arousal scent nearly overpowered him, and he continued to explore the scar with his fingers. He could hear the boy's heart rate accelerate, his breathing become heavy.
"Responsive, like that," he breathed into the boy's ear as he reached down to grab the chain.
"Why?" The boy's eyes filled with confusion and lust and even a little fear. He ignored the soft protest and continued toward the bed. "I mean, if you can't …" He ended the words by pushing the boy onto the bed. The arousal-scent now peaked, teasin' Spike's senses, and he could feel the stirrin's of his own excitement. Celibacy simply wasn't normal for a demon, and his body now demanded action. He fastened the boy's chain to the wall, ensurin' that the boy didn't try ta escape.
"I can play," he pointed out to the boy. So innocent. His demon demanded that he sink his fangs into the boy, feed, possibly turn, but he couldn't. His desire to humiliate Cassidy and force him into the open overrode his own lust; after all, he was a master capable of controlling himself. He examined the body below him. "Been years since I've played."
He undid the boy's baggy jeans, enjoyin' the sight of the boy's cock. Nicely built bloke, crossed his mind as he tossed the jeans and underwear to one side. Too bad he'd been mangled by the god-awful habit Yanks had of getting their boys trimmed round the willies. "Been years since I wanted to," he admitted. The boy gave him a slightly confused look, and Spike nearly laughed.
"What do…" the boy started, but he was through with talking. He eased himself down on top of his captive, pressing his hips down onto the boy's now dripping cock. He felt the tremblin' that preceded release.
"Not yet, luv" he softly ordered. Oh bloody hell yes, definitely a virgin, and a randy one at that. Spike resisted another impulse to take the body below him and drive himself into it from both ends, sinking his cock and his teeth into the soft flesh. Cassidy, he reminded himself. All well and good to have some fun and remind the boy who controlled the situation, but he had to keep Cassidy in mind.
He rolled his weight onto his knees and pulled the boy up toward the bed-head so that he had room to work. Settling in comfortably, he lowered his mouth to the scar and explored the shape of Cassidy's bite. The body under him bucked and squirmed, the boy whining incoherently in pleasure. He simply pushed down to hold the body still while he continued, and he felt the boy tilt his head in submission.
He growled his pleasure and struggled to restrain the need to bite, to taste, to take and own. When he had Cassidy, he was going to take the boy and never let him out of the soddin' lair again. Keep him here to squirm under him every night. He ran his fingers down the body, enjoying the feel of muscles tremblin' under his touch. Bloody hell, how could Cassidy let this one walk away, he wondered. Peaches assured him that the boy couldn't be Cassidy's while still reacting to another's touch, well that was the general gist of the conversation between all the threats anyway, but he could still smell Cassidy and his own demon demanded that smell be eliminated. He struggled to control the need. The body below him had calmed somewhat, the boy simply gasping for air, so he sucked at the scar, bringin' the blood near the surface, even while he continued his exploration with his hand. The boy returned to buckin' and writhin' in pleasure.
"Oh god," the boy gasped as he finally touched the inside of the boy's leg, the legs falling open instantly even as the hips rolled in an obvious invitation. How many times had he wished to hold Drusilla like this? He never did though; Angelus had broken his sire so that she writhed only under the touch of a whip. He could bring the whip down and watch the line of red appear as she begged and squirmed, but the minute he put his hand on her, she would still and beg for the whip again. One hundred and twenty years, and the feeling of a willin', bloody active body below his own was still a new experience. Well, can't let him get away with tryin' to call the shots from underneath, can he?
"Bad boy," he scolded as he moved his hand and ran his teeth over the scar. He chuckled at the boy's scream and sudden struggles to escape. Go on then, he thought to himself, pull those chains as much as ya want, but you're mine. The thought surprised him and he stopped and thought about it. Did he truly want the boy in that way, the forever type of want? He felt the body under him squirm and buck. Oh yeah, bloody hell yeah. He'd make his first childe just as soon as he took care of Cassidy.
"Lay still and don't come, or I just may have to find some leg irons in that closet," he ordered, and he felt the body quiver. "Don't come," he warned, and the body calmed at his order. Bloody hell, that shouldn't happen. He tilted his head and looked at the boy for a moment. Figure it out later, he would; right now, he just wanted to explore his prize. He moved his mouth down to the nipples, sucking and biting at one while pulling the other. He tasted every inch of the boy's torso, enjoying the spicy flavour of lust in the boy's sweat.
"Oh please, oh please, oh god, please," the boy muttered, and Spike smiled. Such a responsive body, one that he planned on enjoyin' for the next hundred years or so. Time to start teachin' the boy a lesson or two in vampire sex.
He continued his soft explorations of the boy's body with his hands before closin' his dull, human teeth over a small patch of skin. Rather than pull away as he had feared, the boy arched into the bite, the smell of his arousal becoming nearly intoxicatin'. Oh bleedin' perfect.
"Flip over…and don't come," he ordered.
"Huh?" The boy didn't move, but from the expression, he guessed that it had less to do with disobedience than confusion. The boy seemed to have lost the ability to think, and he smiled at the thought of havin' such an appreciative lover. Once the boy was his childe, he would enjoy this body in ways the human couldn't even imagine. Of course, he would miss the warmth and innocence of the human, but he would make the trade to gain the loyalty and devotion of a childe.
"Flip. Over," he pronounced his words slowly and carefully, makin' sure that the boy understood them before firmly guidin' him over onto his stomach. The boy had barely completed the roll when he started humpin' the sheets, and Spike had to pull him up before the boy could ruin his fun. But despite the boy's obvious desire to finish, the boy didn't even protest when he arranged him with knees spread and head down. "Stay," he ordered before going to the armoire for some lube. He wouldn't ruin the boy's first experience; he enjoyed the boy's enthusiasm too much for that.
When he returned, he ran his hands up the body, closin' his eyes and allowin' his game face to surface as he felt the muscles twitch under his fingers. So bloody responsive. He felt down the arms to the fingers which closed over his own, twinin' the digits as if they were already lovers. Pulling back, he explored the trembling legs that struggled to remain in position as he had ordered. Embracin' the boy, he reached around to the boy's cock, and he felt the intake of breath right before the boy screamed again, this time soundin' almost animalistic and humping wildly.
"Don't come," he commanded, and again the body responded to his order, but the boy squirmed in growing discomfort at not being able to hump. He finally took pity and released the boy, givin' each ball a quick squeeze before turnin' ta pick up the lube. Suddenly the scent changed, anger and sadness staining the wonderful scent of lust.
"What exactly are you looking for?" the boy demanded aggressively. What in the bloody hell? He cocked his head and watched the body below him. The body remained in position, obeying his commands, but the mind behind it had suddenly shifted.
"Oh, after 120 years, I know where to look," he promised. "Stay."
"Not a stupid dog," the boy snapped.
"You were happy enough a few minutes ago, what happened?" He trailed his fingers across the boy's back and up to the scar. As soon as he began to caress the injured flesh, the scent shifted again, the lust returned, this time with a tang Spike could only associate with the scent of animalistic submission. The boy moaned, and he took that as a sign to continue to the next step. Opening the lube, he squeezed out a generous amount. With one hand he continued to soothe his boy while he pressed his oiled finger on the outside of the boy's hole. Without warnin', the boy jerked away, kneelin' up on the bed and the scent of fury tickled his nose.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You said you weren't going to rape me, or have you changed your plans again?" He fought with the demon urge to dominate, to drive into the boy and prove his right to command. Cassidy, he reminded himself firmly, Cassidy.
"Shhh, you're fine luv," he used a voice near to the purr a sire would make to an injured childe even while he lowered his mouth to the scar, tastin' and nippin' at the irregular skin. The scent shifted again toward lust, and he had to wonder just what thoughts went on in the boy's head. He'd tortured and raped and seduced countless humans under Angelus' watchful eye, and never had he found one who reacted so suddenly, turnin' from anger to lust and back as if he had two minds which could switch at will. When the lustful mind regained ascendancy, he settled the boy back down into position. He rubbed the scar to avoid a re-emergence of the anger even as he returned his oiled finger to its goal. The sadness remained in the scent, but the anger had evaporated under the lust. The salt smell of tears now merged with the salt smell of sweat, and Spike realized that the human was afraid even as he desperately sought release.
"Relax, pet. Relax and don't come," he gently commanded. At the word relax, he could feel the boy open up under his finger, and he slipped the digit into the tight confines of the boy's body. "Ready pet?" The boy didn't respond, but the scent spoke of his lust, so Spike bent his finger and reached for the tiny gland hidden just on the other side of the rectal wall. The first touch caused only a tremor and gasp, so he pushed harder the second time, trying to judge this body's response.
"Oh god. Pleasetouchme Spike. Please. OhgodIhavetocome." Oh yeah, that's the amount of pressure that the boy wants. Spike continued to experiment with slightly lighter and slightly firmer touches, longer and shorter durations until he knew exactly what the boy needed to remain willin' and writhin' and desperate for more. Knowledge in hand, he decided to have pity. Moving his hand away from the scar for the first time since he had breeched the body, he ran a single finger up the sensitive underside of Xander's cock even as he applied perfect pressure to the prostate.
The boy stiffened and screamed for a third time before comin' in giant waves, his body buckin' and clenchin' until Spike could feel the tightenin' 'round his finger. He shuddered with a need to feel that clenchin' on his cock, but there would be time enough for that later. Suddenly the boy collapsed, slidin' off Spike's finger and landing directly in the wet spot on the bed. Spike smiled and shook off his game face in preparation. He expected the boy to sit up, to accuse him of rape, to sling profanity his direction until the boy earned a whippin'. Instead the boy lay there quietly.
"Planning on sleepin' in the wet spot, pet?" he finally asked. If he would have to force the boy to submit, he wanted to do it now. He suspected that if he curled up to sleep in all that warmth and willingness and then woke up to accusations and recriminations he just might beat the boy bloody.
"Never moving again. Fuck off." Spike laughed. The boy certainly wasn't plannin' on being a traditional pet, but he also didn't resist, didn't yell, didn't even fight the chains that still imprisoned his hands.
"I'll take that as a compliment. I assume that means we can sleep the rest of the day 'til sunset?"
"This was about getting me to go back to bed?" The boy looked up with such shock and fear that Spike wondered if the boy had managed to shift personalities again. He scented the air but didn't sense the flavour of anger.
"Not quite luv, but we'll talk this evening," he promised. "I've got to go clean up." He dropped the lube and hurried into the bathroom where he could have a nice wank to the thoughts of burying himself in a warm human body that wriggled below him. Despite havin' a painful erection when he started, he took his time, teasin' himself until the pain and pleasure had reached a perfect balance and then thrustin' firmly into his own fist so that his seed landed neatly in the toilet.
When he finished, he walked out to find the boy sound asleep, still in the wet spot. He considered removin' the chains, but he just couldn't take the risk while he slept, so he simply lengthened the lead chain. Crawling into bed, he watched the slow rise and fall of the boy's back as he breathed. Angelus had used pain to break Dru; he had used humiliation and insults to bend William; he had manipulated and confused Penn. Lookin' at the body asleep next to him, Spike promised himself that he wouldn't do any of those things to his newly chosen childe. He would show the boy that he was valued and wanted, so that when he turned him, the demon would know Spike not just as Sire but as the only source of protection and love. He would create for himself the lover that his lovely Drusilla could never be. Having decided the boy's future, Spike settled down and draped an arm over the still sleeping frame and allowed himself to fall asleep next to his future childe.