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Slightly to the Left

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Summary: With Spike safely tied to a chair, Xander engages in a round of Taunt the Vampire. Things go farther than either expected. Slashy, smutty (m/m) goodness.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > Romance > Spike/Xander(Past Donor)gleefulmusingsFR21211,5374223,41816 Sep 1028 Sep 10No

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Illustration Illustration

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Spike was prowling through the cemetery, trying to hone his senses to focus exclusively on his Nummy.

His delicious boy was hiding somewhere about, just waiting for his vampire to pounce on his hot, lithe body. He supposed the whole game was rather inane, but Xander loved being pursued, loved knowing that he was being sought, and there were few things Spike enjoyed more than a good hunt. Got his juices going, stoked the fire.

A gentle breeze wafted over him, and he tasted remnants of the demon bird’s perfume on the wind.

Still surprised him a little that a no-nonsense bint like Anya indulged in such a bid of plaintive femininity, but he had watched her apply it in a meticulous, almost obsessive, ritual, no doubt dictated by one of her ridiculous magazines. Behind her ears, hollow of her neck, back of her wrists, cleavage, behind her knees. The mediocrity of the whole thing seemed to soothe her.

He would sometimes watch Xander watching her, and it was a gut punch to realize how much his boy loved that girl. The Slayer and her witch dismissed it, as they tended to do with most things regarding Xander, their treatment of whom angered both Spike and Anya, but it merely rolled off Xander like water off a duck’s back. When pressed, the boy had simply shrugged and mentioned the cheerleader’s name, and that’s when both of them saw how much he had loved and continued to love Cordelia.

Very few mortals surprised him anymore, it was all pretty much old hat, but the boy somehow always managed. Xander thought nothing of admitting that he still loved the cheerleader, adding that it had nothing to do with his love for Anya and whatever he felt for Spike, which was still rather depressingly ill-defined. The vampire knew the boy had similar places in his heart for the witch and the Slayer, her mother, and probably the Watcher and the Souled One, as well; he was aggrieved to discern that there was a place for the soldier, too.

He wondered if there was a place for everyone whom Xander had ever encountered, as if not giving them one was somehow shameful, or perhaps it was the boy’s way of ensuring no one was ever forgotten. Those places weren’t all the same size, of course, and some were darker than others, but they were there. Xander didn’t see them as different, though. He loved; that’s what he did. There was no mystery about it to him, which made him all the more mysterious to Spike.

He shook his head and forced himself to concentrate, distancing himself from Anya’s scent, for he knew wherever she was lurking, he would not find his boy. When he and Xander played, she liked nothing more than to watch, so she would have found herself an ideal vantage point. Though he had expressed no hesitancy about including her in the game, Anya had no sexual interest in anyone who wasn’t Xander; odd, as she didn’t begrudge him whatever he had with Spike, though she ranted and raved at the Slayer and witch whenever either one of them looked at the boy twice.

It took a while, but Spike had finally cottoned on: Anya was scared. She believed Buffy and Willow had the power to take Xander from her, and now Spike wondered if that fear didn’t have merit. Before, he never would have cared, but after tasting the boy, after holding him, he wasn’t ready to let him go just yet, if ever. And especially not for the Slayer; she had cost him enough already.

Despite their games, Xander still refused to let Spike fuck him, and with the chip, there was little recourse left to the vampire other than to comply. Not that he would ever force the boy, of course, for he knew Xander could only be pushed so far. He couldn’t exactly determine the reason for this wait, however; he knew Xander wanted him. They slept in the same bed, sometimes even showered together. They brought each other off with their hands on a regular basis, and Xander never protested when Spike slipped a finger or three into his naughty boy’s tight heat, but his pet always called a halt before there was any penetration. It wasn’t so bad, he supposed; they still did lots of stuff, and nothing was more exciting than watching Xander’s face when he came, all mottled red and wanton, gasping for breath, his chest flushed with color and heaving.

Spike felt himself grow hard and softly growled. Where was Xander? So good at hiding was his boy, a talent with which he hadn’t been born but which had nonetheless been bred into him.

He angrily shook his head. Right, best not to think of those things.

Xander didn’t like to talk about his parents or his childhood, or anything other than Willow before Buffy had arrived in Sunnydale. The other boy, the one who had died, was off-limits, as was the great pouf. Xander absolutely refused to discuss Cordelia.

Spike wondered if sometimes the boy wasn’t thinking of Angel when they were panting into each other’s necks, and he wondered why it wouldn’t bother him were it true. Actually, the idea of watching Angel take the boy was a serious turn-on, and he came to understand Anya a little better through that realization.

He continued walking amongst the tombstones, his vision growing cloudy with the idea of watching his pet with others. Although Anya had authorized it, Xander refused to allow Spike to watch he and the girl fuck. Oh, Spike was allowed to listen, but never to watch, and the vampire realized his boy was rather evil. A welcome and disturbing thought, that was. Xander was tactile, Anya was visual, and he himself was aural; the boy had somehow instinctively known that Spike would come harder when he was forced to listen, his imagination more powerful than any image unfolding before him.

It was all one great big tease, and Spike was unsure as to whether he should be grateful or resentful. He liked that Xander had innately understood what he enjoyed, but was annoyed that the boy could so effortlessly impose and enforce limits upon him, and that he himself allowed it. Still, there was something rather delectable about being forced to cede control, and it was certainly different from acting as the Slayer’s training dummy. And the way Anya screamed when the boy plowed into her...

He stopped and doubled over, panting, trying to catch unnecessary breath.

And now he thought of his boy with the pouf, watching Angel lose himself in Xander’s sweet, tight ass, watching the other vampire pull out and shoot across the boy's back. It had been so long since he had been able to think of Angel sexually without both mourning and cursing Angelus. Now, he longed to see Angel undone, completely free, if only for a few brief moments, to see the consternation on his face, dreaming of how Xander would insist on his presence, warning Angel that he was not to touch the other vampire.

He thought of Xander and the soldier, Riley’s face a flushed mask of pleasure and pain as Xander took him over and over, watching his boy push the soldier’s smug face into the mattress and mounting him, invading him with no mercy. Spike knew Riley would be begging for it; natural bottom, that boy was. Thought about what the Slayer would do if she were to witness it. He snickered. Probably would send her spare, even as her fingers worked their way into her sopping panties. He snorted. Girl was a freak, even if she hadn’t realized it yet.

“Where are you, Nummy?,” he whispered, knowing no matter how far away his boy was, Xander would somehow hear him. “Your Spike wants a lil’ nibble.”

He thought he heard Anya's gentle laughter.

Xander was more versatile than either Angel or Riley, as Spike himself was. They both liked the power and control, but didn’t mind surrendering it to the person of their choosing. He knew Xander would allow Angel to fuck him, but had no doubt that the soldier would be grabbing his ankles for the boy. Spike began whistling a jaunty tune as he thought of his pet pushing into the soldier, only for Angel to come up behind Xander and begin slowly fucking him, every thrust causing Xander to burrow more deeply into Riley.

He’d have to tell that one to Anya; not only would she enjoy it, but she’d be able to flesh it out and parrot it back at him with wonderful detail. He was ready to start wanking right there, but another breeze caressed his face and he growled, knowing where he would find his pet.

Hunt was over. He wanted the boy now. Wanted whatever the boy was willing to concede. Needed him so bad it was like cold fire burning in his gut, like a fist which struck and then unfolded to knead the bruised tissue, infusing warmth. He leapt over a series of graves and dodged into a thicket of kudzu, not bothering to go around. No time.

And then he realized that Xander wanted to be found. Oh, his boy was ready for him!

He emerged into a small glen, in which a rather large statue of an angel was the only adornment. He took a moment to marvel at the irony. He scented again and moaned as the pheromones washed over him, eucalyptus underscored with the boy’s signature musk. Xander was somewhere close, doing something very naughty. And without him!

He stalked over to the other side of the statue and looked down.

“You started without me,” he mournfully whispered.

“Couldn’t wait,” Xander gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He laid there naked, the moonlight giving his dusky skin a carnal glow, his legs slightly bent at the knees, his back sprawled against the masonry, languidly pulling on his cock.

“Was thinking of you. Thinking of you looking for me, wanting me, doing things to me. Got so hard, couldn’t walk anymore.” He looked up at the vampire. “Take your clothes off,” he said slowly, deliberately.

Spike cocked his head and considered the request.

“Now. Everything. I want to see you, all of you. Now!”

Spike shivered at the proprietary tone, barely disguising the naked want and aching need. Up until now, most of their games still involved clothing. Xander liked the friction Spike’s jeans allowed when he rubbed on him, Spike liked Xander in a t-shirt, boxers, and white socks. Didn’t know why; didn’t much care, either. He looked over, and next to the boy were his clothes, carefully folded and stacked, a small physical reminder of order in their emotional chaos. Now, Xander was demanding a display. He smirked and shrugged out of his duster, the smirk turning into a smug smile as Xander stared longingly at his crotch.

“Fabulous, isn’t it?,” he purred.

“Less talking, more nudity.”

The vampire quaked at the hunger. He slowly teased the snug t-shirt up his torso, grinning almost self-consciously when Xander licked his lips. He tugged it up over his head and shuddered as the cool air hit his cooler skin, before suddenly turning shy.

“Beautiful,” Xander whispered.

Spike was about to beg, but stared in incredulity as Xander pitched himself forward onto hands and knees and began slinking toward him. “Pet?,” he trembled.

Xander knelt before him and looked up, blinking owlishly, his face that of an incubus, and Spike saw nothing but lust staring back. The boy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the vampire’s stomach, causing muscles to contract involuntarily. Slowly, Xander, now crouching on his haunches, kissed a trail up the alabaster skin until he found a pink, puckered nipple, which he immediately took into his mouth.

Spike swore a blue streak, his curses nothing but whispered filth as he viciously threaded his fingers through the boy’s hair and yanked hard on the sable locks. Xander offered an appreciative groan and bit down.

“Fuck, yeah,” the vampire growled. “Just like that, pet. Don’t be afraid to use your teeth. Don’t need my say-so.” He closed his eyes. “Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another.”

Xander pulled back and looked up at him before he burst out laughing.

“You,” he wheezed, “you’re quoting Madonna?”

“Hey!,” Spike barked. “I like that song! Was a good one!” He stepped forward and grabbed Xander’s head, forcing it back against his chest, reveling in the way the boy’s hair tickled at his skin. “You like it, too, don’t you, pretty? Wouldn’t you like to do those things? Run naked in a rainstorm? The sweet scent of summer hanging heavy in the air as the warm water hits your body? Me chasing you.”

Xander gurgled.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Thought you’d like that." He bared his fangs. "Gonna chase you, pet. Gonna hunt you down in the rain." He sighed and rolled his neck. "It’ll be difficult; the storm will wash away your scent, but I’ll find you. You can’t escape me, Xander. I’ll always find you.”

He delivered the last line with perhaps more menace than he had intended, but the effect was just as welcomed. The boy made a noise which Spike thought was a little too close to a sob. He didn’t want his boy to be sad, so it was time to step it up a notch.

“How’d the rest go, love? Make love on a train, cross-country? Yeah, that’s it. Would you like that, pet?" He frowned. "Although a train is rather boring, isn't? The subway is so much more interesting.” He gasped as Xander began licking his stomach, the deft tongue popping in and out of his navel. “So good, pet. You’re so fucking good.”

“More,” Xander rasped.

“Right. Subway, wasn’t it?" He nodded. "Yeah. The one in New York, I think. Ever been, love?,” he began stroking Xander’s hair. “No? It’s been a while for me. Good memories on the subway. The benches line up and down the sides of the car. None of those sodding booths the Europeans are so fond off. Wide aisles. But who needs aisles, right, pet? Not when I can take you on one of those narrow benches."

He smirked. "Hmm, what to do? Should I just pick you up and slam you down on my hard cock? Perhaps yank your hair and pull your head back, forcing you to take me deeper, to places you didn’t even know your body had?”

He punctuated his question with a vicious yank to the boy’s hair. “I'd like that, but I wouldn’t be able to see your face. See, I like to watch you, watch your eyes grow huge and bright, hazy with lust, all of it for me.”

He sighed almost wistfully. “Right. Think I’ll have you straddle me. My cock poking through the zipper of my denims. Have to make sure you’re wearing something soft, something cotton. No undies," he scolded, wagging his finger. "Can you feel the material caressing your ass?”

“Want it to be your fingers."

“There’s my naughty boy,” he smirked. “You like your Spike’s fingers in your tight little ass, don’t you?” He beamed at the boy's frantic nod. “Reaching, reaching deep, to find that spot. You know the one I mean. The one I hit that makes you see nothing but white and hear nothing but buzzing.”

Xander gave a piteous moan.

“There, there,” Spike consoled. “Soon, pretty. Such a good boy, you are. But for right now, back to the fantasy, shall we? Sweatpants, I believe. You’re straddling me, my dick free and hard, and I reach between your legs,” he paused as Xander’s breathing became erratic and labored, “find the seam, and tear open a hole right next to your own hole, yes? That’s nice, isn’t it? What’s that? You have lube in your pocket! How thoughtful! Have to give you a pressie, then, don’t I? Have to reward my good boy.”

“Please,” Xander whispered.

“Soon, lovely; quite soon, I think. Now, can you feel the slick as I pour it onto your fingers? Silky, isn’t it? Feels so good. Can’t think of anything that would feel better. You know what to do with that, don’t you pet?” The boy nodded again, his hands now fluttering at Spike’s belt. “What do you want, love?,” he softly asked. “Just tell me. I’ll do anything for my boy, but I need to hear the words.”

“Please,” Xander repeated, his voice broken.

“Please what? Be specific, pet. I want you to tell me exactly what you want your Spike to do.”

“Take your pants off,” the boy slurred. “Need to see.”

“You want to see my cock, sweet? See how hard it is? How hard you make me?”


“There, now that wasn’t so bad, was it? I’ll always do what you want, Xan. You just have to tell me.” With that, he began slowly unbuckling his belt, pausing when he heard his boy sigh. “What, pet? What is it? Oh, do you want to help?”

Xander looked up and nodded, his eyes impossibly huge and black.

Spike gave a spastic shudder. “All right, then. Go ahead, love. You do exactly what you want. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Keep talking. Dirty.”

The vampire groaned, knowing this was for his benefit as much as for Xander’s, as he felt his boy’s fingertips dip into his waistband, the strong, calloused hands clumsy and fumbling, racing desperately.

“Dirty, is it? You want me to speak filth, is that right? You naughty, naughty little boy. One day soon, I think I shall have to bend you over my knee and spank you.”

Xander began quivering, his hands now riddled with tremors.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?,” Spike leered. “You’d like your vampire to take you over his knee, paddle that sweet little behind of yours until it’s swollen like a ripe plum, yeah? Maybe when I’m done, I’ll be kind and stick inside a finger or two. Would you like that, pet? I think you would. You’re such a little slut, aren’t you, Xan? So dirty. Naughty boy. The others don’t know, do they? Our secret. Just between you and me. Dirty whore.”

And he knew he had said the wrong thing, even before Xander stiffened and pulled away.

“I’m not a whore.”

“No, you’re not,” Spike quietly said. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“I’m not bad. This isn’t bad.” Despite his conviction, Xander's voice was unsure.

“No, it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing; Anya knows and she approves. It’s no one else’s business, and I won’t ever tell. I promised. You remember, pet?" He cupped in his hand Xander's cheek. "That first night in the basement? I swore I would never tell, and I never will.”

“Why did you call me that?”

Oh, shit. This was worse than he thought; he had hurt his boy’s feelings. Blast! Always shooting his mouth off at the worst times!

“I’m sorry, love,” he repeated, “I didn’t mean to upset you, honest. I just got caught up.”

“Angelus used to call you that.”

He hesitated briefly. “Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

Spike bit his lip. “Sometimes. Depending on what he did to me.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

He set his jaw and shut his eyes. “I know you won’t. I won’t hurt you, either.”

“I know.”

“ you?”



Xander shrugged. “I just do. Spike, I...”

“Me too.”

“How do you know what I was going to say?”

“I don’t. Don’t need to, do I? Doesn’t matter right now, does it? Just words. But I do, too. To everything.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The words came easily, even though there was a dim awareness in his head which screamed that he was being manipulated, and while he didn’t put it past his boy to do such a thing, he doubted that, at that moment, either of them were thinking beyond getting off.

“Um. Can we rewind?”

He gave a light chuckle. “We can. Now, where were we? Ah, yes.” He pulled Xander back toward him. “I believe you were undoing my pants, and I was telling you about how I want to fuck you in the middle of a subway car. Did I tell you about all the people there, pet? How they’re watching us?”


“Love it when you scream my name,” he moaned. “Soon, one day soon, you’ll be screaming it for hours when you finally let me in. Gonna fuck you so good, my name will be the only word you know.”

“Oh, god.”

“Yeah, that’s all right, then; you can remember that one, too. You’ll be screaming for him, as well. Gonna scream for God, His Mother, and all the saints when I finally drive into you." He ran his fingers through the boy's hair, nails digging into the tender flesh of the scalp. "It’s gonna be so good, Xan. Gonna make it just right for you, do everything you want. And when I’m done, you’re gonna fuck me, too.”

Xander began babbling at such a speed that he became worried.

“Easy, pet,” he cautioned. “Easy. I won’t just take, I’ll give. You want to be inside me, Xan? You can be. It’s been so long, so long since there was someone I wanted that way. Someone who asked first.” He started at the sudden wetness on his skin. “Don’t cry, love. Don’t cry for me. All in the past. That was forever ago, and this is now, and we’re us, and that stuff doesn’t matter anymore. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Never,” Xander whispered, shaking his head.

“Then let’s move on, shall we? I believe you were about to pull down my jeans. I don’t wear underwear, you know.”

“I want you in my mouth.”

Spike stilled and swallowed heavily. “Pet, are you sure? We haven't... If you’re not ready...” But he was cut off as Xander tore the belt from the loops and savagely peeled his jeans down his legs, taking the large cock in a warm hand. “Xan?”

“I can taste you, even in my dreams.”

The vampire grunted; he knew what the boy was after, and he was more than happy to comply.

“You dream of my cock, do you? Like to fantasize about it in your mouth? I think I rather like that." He nodded. "All right, then; give it a go. Show me you deserve to suck my dick.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, knowing the boy had never done this before, but he didn’t care; as long as Xander’s mouth was on his prick, the boy could do anything he wanted.

Xander began gagging but was determined in his endeavor, even when Spike tried to pull back a bit, but the boy simply slapped away his hands.

“Oh, Xan, so good," he sighed, his head falling back. "You’re so good. Can you take me deeper, pet?,” he asked as he hit the back of the boy’s throat.

Xander forced himself to relax his throat, and Spike suddenly found himself sliding in more deeply.

“Glorious,” he whispered. “Here, love. Just hold still, all right? Let me fuck your face.”

Xander stopped his ministrations, offering a plaintive wail as he felt Spike grab either side of his head.

“That’s lovely,” the vampire purred, easing himself in and out from between the boy’s lips. “Fuck, Xan, do you have any idea how fucking hot you are right now with my cock in your mouth?," he asked, looking down into the boy's eyes. "Such a sweet, pretty mouth, too. So warm and wet. Feels like it was created just for me. Perfect size. Do you like my taste, pet? Is it what you thought?”

Xander growled, curling his upper lip and baring his teeth, his body thrumming when Spike slurred another string of invectives.

“Shit, yeah,” Spike whimpered. “Don’t be afraid to be a little rough. I like that, you know. I can take it. Don’t hold back with me, love. I can take it all.”

He sped up his movements, delighting in the copious drool now coating his cock, wanting nothing more than to flip the boy over on his stomach and bury himself in the tightest place he had ever imagined. Too soon, though, it was too soon. Xander wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t gonna push it. Didn’t want to do anything that would cause his boy to put an end to all of this.

He breathed in deeply through his nose and scented, smiling as Anya’s climax reached his nostrils. She was a dizzy bint, but a spot of all right. Just wanted her boy to be happy. Nice girl.

He began ramming his hips toward the boy’s mouth, every now and again pausing to fill it up, astonished and tickled that the boy had learned, in only a few minutes, how to suck a cock with more pomp and skill than Angelus had ever been able to muster.

“Good boy,” he praised. “Your mouth’s made for sucking dick, isn’t it? You do it so well." He bent closer. "Tell me, pet, just between us, am I the only one you ever thought of doing this to?”

Xander gagged again as his eyes swiftly looked up into his face.

“Not mad,” he whispered. “Gets me hot, thinking about you with others. Listening to it, watching it. Not sure I’d ever want it to happen, but I enjoy thinking about it.” He paused. "I wonder how Anya stands it. That's a great chit you got there, pet."

Xander blinked once, and Spike took that as agreement for everything.

“That’s a good lad. Angelus, was it? Remember how you asked me before how big he was? He’s fucking huge, pet. Bout ripped in two the first time he took me." He shook his head. "Don’t know how the Slayer did it, but maybe he was gentler with her." He shrugged and then grinned. "That’s not for us, though, is it, love? Like it dirty and a lil’ rough, don’t we? No shame in that. None at all.”

The boy gave a guttural moan, the vibrations causing Spike’s balls to tense up. Noticing the reaction, Xander began humming behind his palate.

“Fucking hell, pet!,” Spike all but screeched. “Genius! So good."

He ran his tongue over his lips and pinched a nipple, before softly sighing, loving the feel of Xander's mouth on his cock, of the boy's fingernails rending his ass.

"Who else, then? The soldier?" He looked around and then dropped his voice. "I’ll lie if you ever repeat this - not that you would, of course - but I bet that farmboy is an amazing fuck." He curled a lip. "Probably the only thing he’s good for." He smirked. "You’ve looked, haven’t you, pet? His tight ass, those feet and hands. Slayer’s prolly never been so satisfied. He’s even taller than the pouf, isn’t he? Such broad shoulders, could probably hang from them."

He cocked his head. "See, love, I don’t think it would take much work on your part at all for you to have him. I bet you could have his ass in the air ready to take your cock within twenty minutes.”

At Xander's choke, he laughed. “You think you’re the only one who’s looked? I’ve seen him watching you, stealing a peek when the Slayer isn’t looking." He shook his head in fond exasperation. "You all do that, you know. You’ve checked them all out, as they have you. No harm; it’s just looking, right? But I want you to know, to understand, there's not one of them you couldn't have.”

The boy reached down, and Spike looked to see what his pet was doing.

“Good boy,” he encouraged. “Touch yourself. Make it hard and fast, because I want to see you come. Your face is so fucking beautiful when you come, love. All flushed and tight, so free and debauched; like a cherub, you are, like something out of an old painting.”

He groaned again. “Close, I’m so close, pet. Are you? Good. Now, I want you to picture this: you’re in that chair, the one in the basement, and you’re naked. I come home from a quick snog and grope, but I don’t see you right away." He shrugged. "Don’t know why, don’t much care. I stalk past you, taking off my clothes, needing to get in the shower, because I’m dirty, and before I know what’s happening, your hands are on my waist, and you’re pushing me down on that lovely cock of yours."

He began panting at the thought. Of course! He should have just had the boy fuck him! Stupid!

"I scream, I cry, and I beg for more, because it’s all for you. Only want you. And then I’m bouncing on your dick, trying to take it deeper, wanting you to fill me up so completely that I won’t know anything but you.”

Xander screamed around his mouthful of cock and exploded into his hand.

“That’s my boy!,” Spike cheered. “So delicious. Wanna taste it. Wanna taste you.”

He held out his hand, and Xander grasped it, the come slick and oozing between their joined fingers. Spike pulled back and thrust his fingers into his mouth, shuddering at the exquisite taste; he should have know his boy would be sweet in all things. He cleaned his hand with his tongue and began retracting his dick from the boy's mouth.

“Close, love. Gonna come. Gotta come," he groaned. "I don’t think you’re ready to swallow, not yet, but when I return this gift, and I will, I’m gonna swallow every drop.”

Xander gasped as Spike pulled free, his lips tingling and jaw sore. “On me,” he hissed.

Spike blinked. “Wot?”

“Come on me, on my face.”

“Pet?,” he asked, his voice a strangled sob. He couldn't hold back much more.

“Do it! On me!”

Spike shuddered again, his entire body contracting and ready to fold in on himself, his toes curling in his boots and threatening to unbalance him. He saw nothing but black as he spurt forth, past control, past caring, and then he felt Xander’s hand wind around him, and when his vision returned, he looked down to see his boy’s face covered. He wanted to fall to his knees and lick it off, swirling it between their tongues, tasting him together, but Xander immediately inhaled his cock once more, the wet suction further inflaming the over-sensitized flesh.

“Jesus bloody Christ!,” he screamed. “More!”

Xander continued, milking every drop and cleaning him as best he could, licking here and there, around the head, sucking the balls into his mouth, placing gentle kisses on pale thighs still rigid with exertion and disbelief.

“Brilliant,” Spike sighed, voice hoarse, before he collapsed to his knees. He leaned forward and took Xander’s sticky face in his hands. “You’re amazing. You’re my perfect boy. My dirty boy. All mine.”


Eyes burned yellow at the acknowledgment, and Spike wanted to fuck him so bad, he almost lost consciousness.

They moved toward each other, a kiss the most fitting end, and were caught off guard yet unsurprised when they began seeing small flashes of light, like fireflies. Spike sighed as Xander snickered, their foreheads touching briefly, before they turned and saw Anya standing a few feet away, beaming, with a digital camera in her hand.

“New screensaver!”

The End?

You have reached the end of "Slightly to the Left" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 28 Sep 10.

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