Broken Revenge 22
Jan. 5th, 2006 11:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lit_galDamn it's late, and this is unbeta'ed, and I probably have a shitload of mistakes in this. Point them out and I'll fix 'em tomorrow.
Broken Revenge Part 22
Dom/sub, BDSM, SPANKING, yadda, yadda, yadda
Previous parts using tags
Previous parts using memories
Previously on Broken Revenge
Once he hit the bed, Xander scrambled toward the far side but couldn't make it before a hand closed over his ankle, holding him on the bed. As Xander turned, he found himself looking into the yellow eyes of a seriously pissed off Master vampire, and equal parts lust and terror ran hot through his veins as he realized that punching the big bad demon might not have been the smartest thing… not that anyone ever accused him of being smart in the past.
"What the bloody hell is going on with you?" Spike demanded, and for one second Xander froze, and then all his stupid genes conspired with his growing anger and he used his free leg to start kicking as he tried to free himself. He got in one kick to Spike's cheek before Spike grabbed the second leg at the ankle, pushing it to the bed so he could hold both ankles in one hand.
"Let go," Xander demanded. Yeah, like that would work.
"Not soddin' likely. Not until you've stopped going off your bloody rocker." Spike grabbed for his jeans, and Xander started struggling madly because he didn't want to feel lust, he didn't want to feel Spike's body holding him down and driving him crazy with desire.
"Bloody… just stop it," Spike snarled as he held on to Xander's legs with both hands.
"Angel!" Xander screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You fuckin' brat," Spike snarled as he pulled on Xander's legs, forcing Xander to slide across the bed, and Xander grabbed the edge of the mattress for leverage as he screamed louder.
"Angel! ANGEL!" Xander shrieked as Spike tucked both of his legs under one arm and went back to pulling at his jeans. Xander bucked up and tried to use his arms to pull free of Spike's embrace around his knees, but it didn't work and he collapsed onto the bed as Spike pulled his belt free and started wrapping it around Xander's ankles. Pounding footsteps in the hallway announced Angel's approach no more than a few seconds before the door flew open.
Xander didn't know what he expected, but Spike surprised him by not even reacting to his sire's presence as he finished buckling the belt that trapped Xander's ankles.
"Xander?" Angel asked from the doorway in a voice even more confused than normal.
"Get him off me," Xander begged, and yeah, having to beg Angel for anything fairly well sucked big time, but it was better than the alternative because Spike was still in game face looking seriously pissed.
"Spike?" Angel asked in an equally confused voice.
"Get out, Peaches. This don't have anythin' to do with you." Spike turned and gave his sire a long look before turning back around to pull Xander's shoes and socks off. Xander looked up at the larger vampire standing in the open doorway hoping to send his own silent message, but Angel refused to look at him.
"Aren't you supposed to be doing the whole rescue thing here?" Xander asked desperately as Spike pulled him even closer so that his bound feet touched the floor and Spike started pushing up on the shirt Spike had given him in the back of the van. "Angel?" Xander squeaked as he looked up desperately.
"Spike, maybe you should…."
"Angel, I don't have time to deal with your guilt on top of this, so if ya want to do any good, take your cheerleader out for dinner."
"The sun is coming up."
"Figure somethin' out, just bugger off."
"Angel?" Xander begged weakly as Spike forced the shirt over his head, pulling the shirt off him.
"Xander, I…" Angel stopped, and Xander suddenly knew that he couldn't look to Angel for protection. Spike was his family, and Xander was just the tag-along he put up with the same way Angel had put up with him for Buffy's sake. Xander turned his head, watching the green drapes and letting himself go limp as Spike pulled his hands together and tied them with the shirt.
"Not now, mate. Just get out," Spike said and then he grabbed Xander by the arms and shifted him so that Xander's head was on the pillow, pushing Xander's legs up onto the bed.
"Xander," Angel said, but Xander just continued to stare at the curtains. Angel had chosen a side, and Xander just had to accept that. Angel made small sighing noises. "I'll be right down the hall," Angel finally offered.
"Just stay the hell out of this, ya overgrown potato farmer," Spike said as he straddled Xander's body, and Xander trembled as he raised his hands over his head to give Spike more access to his chest. Spike had punished him in the past, and the whole throwing punches was way more punish-worthy than whatever he had done last time, which he couldn't even remember now.
Angel didn't say anything else, but the door closed, and Xander closed his eyes and waited. And he waited. He had intended to just stay quiet during the punishment, but he found he couldn't wait with the lack of punishment—he opened his eyes to find Spike just sitting on his thighs.
"Well?" he asked, and then shut his mouth quickly because antagonizing the demon sitting on him was a very Droopish thing to do.
"Well what?" Spike asked as he shifted and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his thighs. Xander just stared up silently.
"Bloody hell, can't keep up with your mood shift today. What the hell am I going to do with you?"
"Um, let me go?
"Is that what you want?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Why?" Spike asked in a curious voice, his head tilted.
"Um, huh?" Xander asked. Of all the possible responses, he would have guessed this one. "What do you mean why?"
"Why the soddin' hell are you suddenly so keen on walkin' away?" Spike asked, his eyes now blue and curious and locked onto Xander in a way that made Xander squirm. He looked away before answering.
"Um, to be free?" he answered in his best 'no-duh' voice. Of course, the minute it came out of his mouth, he flinched. Just stop trying to annoy the vampire, Xander ordered himself.
"Not buyin' it, pet. Start talking. What are you thinking right now?"
Xander simply stared off toward the curtain again, and then he gasped as Spike pulled his jeans open, the sound of the zipper loud in the silence of the room. Xander didn't even have time to bring his bound hands down to protect himself before he found himself flipped over to his stomach with his jeans around his knees. He heard the sound of Spike's hand hitting his ass before the heat of the strike registered in his brain. And even then, his brain obviously didn't get the right message because the sharp heat and sting made him groan in need and ache in ways that had nothing to do with punishment.
"Well? Ya ready to talk now?"
Xander remained silent, not really sure how to answer since the only answer he had would just make Spike more angry. Of course keeping silent wasn't smart either, and Xander gasped as another set of slaps landed on his backside, harder this time. He tried pushing up using his hands, and Spike easily pushed him back down to the bed before finishing off with three hard swats that definitely crossed the line between fun pain and not-so fun pain.
"Ow," Xander complained as he squirmed.
"So, tell me what you're thinkin', pet." Spike scooted backwards so that his weight was on the back of Xander's knees, and Xander blinked to keep the tears from his eyes, and he opened his mouth without saying anything. Five more slaps, harder than any previous hits sent him struggling to crawl up the bed, away from Spike, but strong hands closed over his hips and held him in place.
"Stop, please, just stop," Xander begged, barely getting out one word at a time with his ragged breath.
"What are you feeling?" Spike asked calmly.
"Scared," Xander immediately answered.
"Of what?"
"The vampire hitting me?" Xander could hear the incredulous, snotty tone in his own voice, and he braced himself for more hits that didn't come.
"What about you scares ya, pet?" Spike simply asked.
"Um, the hitting?"
"Why does the hitting scare ya? What do you think will happen?"
"Hitting… hurting… hurting… hitting, what's not to fear?" Xander gave a yelp when he found himself flipped onto his back, his hot butt hitting the bedspread and making him arch up away from the sting. Spike's hands on his hips pushed him back down and Xander tried to ignore his hard cock laying against his stomach just like he tried to ignore the feeling over every wrinkle and fiber in the bedspread pressing against his hot, tender skin.
"Do ya really think I'd hurt ya, pet?"
Xander looked up, and Spike had a confused and possibly even hurt expression. "There was the whole microscope thing," Xander pointed out, dropping his eyes back down and looking at his own treacherous cock still hard despite his own best interests to control it.
"Oi, that doesn't count."
"You gave me a concussion."
"That was before."
"Before Buffy," Xander said quietly.
"Before I fell in love with you, you git," Spike corrected him, and Xander looked up. "Bloody hell, have I ever hurt you since the day I came and found ya?" Spike demanded, and Xander had to think back on that.
"Um, no?" Xander didn't miss the way Spike flinched at his answer, and his own stomach knotted at the expression on Spike's face. However, Spike just reached down and cupped his cheek.
"Wouldn't ever hurt ya, pet. So what makes ya fear me?"
"Stupid not to, not that I'm all not-stupid guy."
"What are you afraid I'll do, pet?"
"The hurting isn't enough?"
"Don't really seem to be botherin' ya much, truth be told," Spike said, and Xander gasped for air as Spike's hand closed around his cock.
"And yet the lack of bothering is really kinda bothering," Xander answered, pulling at the shirt tied around his wrists even though he knew from experience that anything Spike tied was going to stay tied until Spike untied it.
"Bloody hell, you're feelin' afraid of not being afraid?" Spike demanded as he sat up and gave Xander the most confused look Xander had seen since the day Spike had first tried to figure out the washing machine.
"I'm not supposed to want this," Xander said quietly as he dropped his gaze back down to his own stubbornly hard cock.
"Bollocks, if we're going to worry about 'supposed to,' I'm supposed to be out there eatin' the villagers. Hell, after what Angelus taught me, I'm supposed ta be drinking down nuns and burning churches. Poof always did have a thing against the Catholic church. So, let's leave 'supposed to' out of this."
"And yet I'm not feeling better," Xander pointed out with a partial shrug. His tied hands made the gesture awkward and as his ass settled into a dull throb, his cock twitched in time with the pain.
"Balmy git. Why aren't ya supposed ta like this?"
"Um, hello. Not really manly to be all okay with getting tied up and spanked."
"So, you're afraid of me makin' ya enjoy this?" Spike tightened his hand around Xander's cock and started a slow stroke, the heat of dry skin pulling against dry skin heating Xander's cock deliciously.
"No," Xander objected, pushing against the hand Spike held on his chest keeping him down on the bed. Spike gave him a wicked leer, the tip of his tongue appearing between his lips, and Xander pushed harder. "NO." Xander bucked up and shoved Spike's hand off his chest.
The vampire was so surprised that Xander managed to knock him off balance and push him back. Twisting to his side, Xander threw himself toward the edge of the bed even though some part of his brain pointed out that he had less than zero chance of getting anywhere. Spike proved that by grabbing his shoulder, and then Xander found himself tossed back onto the bed, Spike's weight pressing down on him, his bound wrists trapped between their bodies.
"Off. Get off!" Xander demanded, bucking wildly but not managing to do more than rise an inch from the bed before Spike's weight and his bound ankles conspiring to trap him.
"Calm down."
"Off," Xander demanded again, and he got about as far as he had last time.
"Bloody hell, just calm down."
"Just—" Xander stopped as he anger suddenly flipped into hot shame that brought tears to his eyes. He wasn't strong enough to stop Spike. He couldn't free himself… he couldn't even stop his cock from lying between them hard and aching even now.
"Xander, listen. Can ya hear me?"
"Yeah," Xander let his body go limp under Spike's weight. "I can't. Please, just… please." Xander closed his eyes and tried to ignore his body's reaction to being trapped under Spike. Except now Spike was sliding off to the side, his body resting on the bed and leaning against Xander's side, a single arm around Xander's waist holding him in place.
"Just what, pet? You're actin' weirder than usual here, and I'm not following wherever you're goin' in your head." Spike's one hand traced small figures on the bare skin of his side while the other went to Xander's hair.
"I just want out." Xander knew Spike heard him because the body beside him went suddenly still. "Please, just untie me," Xander asked softly with his eyes still closed. He didn't want to see Spike's expression because he knew that if he had to see the betrayal on Spike's face he couldn't go through with it, and he needed to go through with it.
"Pet—"
"Not your pet."
"Xander, open your eyes and look at me."
Even though Xander didn't want to, he did open his eyes, his body trained to accept orders even when his common sense told him it was a stupid thing to do, and yes stupid was the word of the day because he could feel his stomach twist into a cold knot as he looked at the expression on Spike's face. The same cold, distant expression he'd sometimes use on Angel. The same expression he often got when someone mentioned Buffy.
"Remember what she said about this?" Spike asked, and the hand released Xander's waist to reach up and trace the edges of the tattooed snake and falcon.
"And this would be the woman that kidnapped you and does all this crazy stuff? I'm thinking she might not be the most reliable source of information," Xander pointed out.
"Tell me why."
"Doesn't matter."
"It bloody well does. I'm not letting go of you because some bug crawled up your butt and died."
"And you were the poet?" Xander asked, making a small laugh that immediately died when Spike's face took on a sharper look.
"Listen, if ya still want to be free in the morning, we'll call the Poof in here and he'll help ya get set up somewhere else. He'll make sure I don't even know where ya are, and he'll make sure ya have enough of my money to make a new life," Spike said. "Hell, it'll make him so happy we'll have to check and make sure his soddin' soul stayed plastered on."
"You'd do—" Xander stopped, not sure how he felt about that.
"I'd do whatever it took ta make ya happy, but I'm not walkin' away from this until you can give me a reason other than 'supposed to' or 'it doesn't matter'."
"That's about it for reasons. I got nothing else here," Xander quickly answered and then found himself even more quickly flipped back over onto his stomach, his hands trapped beneath his stomach, and Spike this time straddling his upper back and shoulders. And like last time, the swats on his butt made the skin burn and sting as Xander squirmed.
"So, let's get something straight here, pet. I'm not walkin' away without a good reason, and you're not goin' to lie ta me as long as you belong to me, which will be until you can come up with a better reason than any of the rot you've tried so far."
Spike spanked him five more times, and Xander yelped in pain. He just knew his ass had to be red with Spike-shaped handprints. "So, why are ya scared of enjoyin' this?"
"I shouldn't," Xander cried out, hoping to stop the swats. Spike's cool hand now ran over the heated skin, soothing the flesh and making Xander squirm and pull at the leather around his ankles.
"Why not, pet?"
"It's not normal."
"Not like you've had a normal life last year or so," Spike pointed out and Xander remained silent. "So what have you got to feel guilty about?" Spike's finger slipped down into the crease of Xander's ass, barely brushing the edge of the hidden hole and sending a hot spike of lust straight to Xander's cock.
Xander gathered his thoughts, trying to figure out a way to answer that, but he didn't answer fast enough. The hand that had soothed his bruised backside raised up and delivered five hot, hard, sharp slaps to the bottom part of his ass, right where he would have to sit and feel it. Xander yelped.
"What have ya got to feel guilty about?" Spike repeated.
"Rape would be one."
"Ya didn't rape anyone. Bloody hell, you lot with souls can turn anythin' into guilt. You happened to be attached to the cock the slavers used, but you weren't controllin' it any more than she was." And the hand that had spanked him not returned to soothing the angry flesh, gently tracing the lines curves of Xander's body.
"Like usual," Xander snorted as he tried to squirm his hands into a more comfortable position.
"What's that mean, pet?"
"What?"
"How is it you don't usually control your cock?"
Xander froze as he realized what he had let slip. "Just that it follows orders now… get hard, get soft, come now." Xander stopped when another set of slaps targeted his upper thighs.
"You usually lie better'n that, pet."
"Out of practice," Xander admitted after several deep breaths. He wasn't sure whether his needy gasps were to struggle through the pain of the spanking or the need to thrust his hard cock into the bed below him.
"So let's try this again. How is it you don't usually control your cock?"
"I just… can't we just skip the humiliation and get on to the blaming part of the breakup?" Xander asked, and a sharp pinch on his already hot ass told him the answer to that.
"I shouldn't want this," Xander said helplessly.
"And we're moving backwards now 'cause you already pointed that out. Why shouldn't you want this? What's wrong with knowing that I'm here to protect you and make sure you don't go hurting yourself? What's wrong with trustin' me?" Spike's weight disappeared off his back, and then Xander was pulled up so that he was on his side and half in Spike's lap as the vampire leaned against the headboard. Xander pulled up his knees so that he was curled up with his upper body resting against Spike's thighs.
"A real man should do the whole protector thing, and here I am curled up in your lap about two seconds away from crying, and this is doing bad things to my manliness," Xander admitted softly.
"Nothin' wrong with wanting to have a safe place ta hide after the things you've seen, pet." Spike's hand went back to Xander's hair, petting gently.
"Not really blaming the kidnapping and torture thing. I'm thinking I was wired wrong from day one."
"Ya aren't wired wrong, pet. Nothing in the world wrong with you except havin' too big of a heart."
"Not really. I shouldn't want this. I never should have wanted this because ya know, wanting something on a Hellmouth, not so smart. And I've lived on a Hellmouth long enough to know that wanting something on a Hellmouth is not so much with the smartness, and really I'm hoping you're going to do something to stop me here because the whole babble thing… not really my thing anymore." Xander took a deep breath as the tears he had so recently fought back threatened once more.
"What did ya want, pet?"
"Oh, that's the thing. It's not really what I wanted, but I kinda wanted it, but you know what they say about being careful for what you wish for. That goes double on a Hellmouth."
"What did you wish for, pet?"
"I was just so damn tired of being there for everyone, ya know?" Xander's guilt made the words hard to say.
"Yeah, pet. Always bein' there and not havin' anyone see that you're there. I know."
"And really, it was so damn stupid."
"We all wish for somethin' stupid sometimes. Me, I wished for Cecily. She probably turned into a bloody shrew who verbally emasculated her husband. Lots of Victorian women did that."
"I wished for Faith," Xander admitted in a whisper so small only a vampire could hear.
"From what I hear, ya got Faith."
"Yeah, but I wished for more, ya know. I was so tired of being scared and fighting, and I'm really a coward and no one figured out that I was this big fraud. Nearly peed my pants taking on Angelus with a rock."
"Most men pee their pants when faced with Angelus. Armed and trained soldiers peed their pants. Takin' him on with a rock should've made you pee your pants."
"But Willow and Buffy, after they got over being mad about the whole 'kick his ass' comment, after that they were all complimenty about how I would always back them up, and really, I just wanted an excuse to not have to, which is, you know, big time wrong. And then along comes Faith… she just grabbed me and threw me down and oh buddy was that a good time, at least for me because I finished a little quick for her I think."
"You thought she'd be the excuse." Spike's words were soft but sure, and Xander flinched as he realized Spike had untangled his disjointed story.
He nodded. "I used to have this daydream where she came to my house and just took me, and then I'd be her love slave and I'd have an excuse to not have to be the cavalry with the rock, and how pathetic am I?"
"Lots of people have fantasies, pet."
"I fucking fantasized about playing sex slave to evil slayer girl. My fantasy was how to abandon my friends and get away with it. My fantasy was to have evil ride up and take me away and turn me into their little pet, and you know, I'm thinking I kinda deserved Leshar because with the exception of the whole male thing and evil thing and selling my services thing, that was sorta my whole fantasy, wasn't it?" Xander's words rose in volume as his anger returned, his anger at himself and at Leshar who had made that dirty little thought all too real. Of course, his dirty little thoughts never included the death… the pain… the fear and the guilt and the hatred.
"Soddin'… ." Spike paused before continuing. "Pet, fantasy isn't reality. Ya don't have anything to feel guilty about."
"And when I was with Leshar, and he killed that girl, when I looked at her blood-- I told myself it wasn't my fault because I was *just* a slave and I didn't have choices and I didn't have to be the hero any more, and a part of me was way too okay with that," Xander blurted in one breath.
"You were just tryin' to survive."
"And now? I'm the little slave serving master and I can hide, and this… it isn't right. I shouldn't want this. I should want to be free."
"Why isn't it right?"
"Um, thought that was a little obvious."
"No soul, pet. Sometimes you lot with souls have funny ideas about right and wrong."
"I'm hiding. I should be out there fixing what I screwed up and instead I'm lying in your lap crying." Xander reached up as he finally realized he was crying, and wiped his tears away.
"Right. So let's take this one soddin' issue at a time. First, why do you feel guilty about abandoning your friends? Ya never did that. Ya stood by them until the day someone ripped you away."
"And yet I wanted to leave." Xander wiped at the new tears that appeared.
"The slayer bloody well *did* leave. Red thought about leavin', goin' to college somewhere else and lettin' you lot handle the Hellmouth. Peaches left—couldn't take it any more. Love Joyce like a mother, and yet her first reaction to findin' out 'bout the slayer package was to push Buffy away. Everyone wants to walk away when it gets tough, but you stayed put. You kept right on playin' white knight even when ya didn't want to."
"Doctor Spike," Xander said with a small smile. "Not to be confused with Doctor Spock or Mr. Spock or Mr. Rogers."
"Loon." Spike answered with a familiar tug on a lock of hair. "And havin' fantasies doesn't mean Leshar is one bit less evil, and while I don't have a problem with evil in general, evil that touches my humans has a short life expectancy."
"I shouldn't want—"
Spike interrupted. "Bloody hell, Xander, millions if not billions of dollars get spent on cuffs and restraints and bars and bloody fancy silk rope. If it's so bloody wrong, why the hell are so many people doin' it? And there are not that many soddin' demons out there with internet shopping habits and credit cards."
"They don't hate themselves like I do," Xander pointed out as he stared at absolutely nothing, the entire room out of focus.
"Pet, listen to me. I'm not Leshar, and I'm not goin' ta force anythin' on ya." Spike voice had a small tremor that Xander could barely hear. "People give themselves to each other because it makes them feel whole and needed. People make commitments because it's what works for them… it's how they make each other feel good." Spike's hand stopped stoking Xander's hair, and Xander allowed Spike to push him up so that he was leaning against the headboard as Spike reached over and untied Xander hands.
"There's nothin' wrong with you and there's nothin' wrong with wanting to feel good and wantin' to make someone else feel good." The shirt came free, and Xander rubbed his wrists and watched as Spike reached down and pulled Xander's jeans up far enough for him to reach the buckle of the belt.
"You're a stupidly brave human, always fightin' for other people, and this rot about you tryin' to run away *is* rot. Otherwise, you would have made Faith the offer. She was tempted away by her need for approval, but you were the one who stayed strong." Spike pulled the belt free before dropping it on the floor next to the bed.
"I'll miss you, but if you can't be with me without tearin' yourself apart, I understand that." Spike kept his back to Xander as he walked over to the dresser and grabbed the duster draped over the chair next to it.
"Just don't ever tell me where ya are because I will come lookin' for ya, and you will find yourself chained to my bed for the next decade or so. Angel probably already has some safe house picked out, and trust me, he might be broody, but he can keep a secret." The click of the lighter and the smell of cigarette filled the silence as Spike lit a cigarette, and it was only in the silence that Xander suddenly understood Spike's offer. He pulled his jeans up and stood next to the bed.
"Spike?" Xander asked.
"You never gave yourself to me. Should've seen that, but I never have been very good at seein' what I didn't want to see. You needed somewhere to heal and find yourself again, but don't ever think that needin' that makes you any less strong. Different kinds of strength in the world, that's what the unsouled version of Peaches never did figure out. He thought he needed to run around killin' and that anyone who did somethin' different was weak."
"You aren't weak," Xander said, recognizing the pain in Spike's words.
"You aren't either, pet," Spike answered without turning around, the smoke from his cigarette drifting up to the ceiling. "Just always keep that in mind." Spike took a deep pull at the cigarette so that Xander could see the reddish glow like a halo around Spike's head in the dim room. He waited for something else, but Spike didn't say anything else, and Xander stood in the dark not sure how to mend the sudden rift he could feel between them. He wasn't sure he knew how to or if he wanted to or if he should. Standing in the dim room, Xander suddenly wasn't sure of anything any more.
Broken Revenge Part 22
Dom/sub, BDSM, SPANKING, yadda, yadda, yadda
Previous parts using tags
Previous parts using memories
Previously on Broken Revenge
Once he hit the bed, Xander scrambled toward the far side but couldn't make it before a hand closed over his ankle, holding him on the bed. As Xander turned, he found himself looking into the yellow eyes of a seriously pissed off Master vampire, and equal parts lust and terror ran hot through his veins as he realized that punching the big bad demon might not have been the smartest thing… not that anyone ever accused him of being smart in the past.
"What the bloody hell is going on with you?" Spike demanded, and for one second Xander froze, and then all his stupid genes conspired with his growing anger and he used his free leg to start kicking as he tried to free himself. He got in one kick to Spike's cheek before Spike grabbed the second leg at the ankle, pushing it to the bed so he could hold both ankles in one hand.
"Let go," Xander demanded. Yeah, like that would work.
"Not soddin' likely. Not until you've stopped going off your bloody rocker." Spike grabbed for his jeans, and Xander started struggling madly because he didn't want to feel lust, he didn't want to feel Spike's body holding him down and driving him crazy with desire.
"Bloody… just stop it," Spike snarled as he held on to Xander's legs with both hands.
"Angel!" Xander screamed at the top of his lungs.
"You fuckin' brat," Spike snarled as he pulled on Xander's legs, forcing Xander to slide across the bed, and Xander grabbed the edge of the mattress for leverage as he screamed louder.
"Angel! ANGEL!" Xander shrieked as Spike tucked both of his legs under one arm and went back to pulling at his jeans. Xander bucked up and tried to use his arms to pull free of Spike's embrace around his knees, but it didn't work and he collapsed onto the bed as Spike pulled his belt free and started wrapping it around Xander's ankles. Pounding footsteps in the hallway announced Angel's approach no more than a few seconds before the door flew open.
Xander didn't know what he expected, but Spike surprised him by not even reacting to his sire's presence as he finished buckling the belt that trapped Xander's ankles.
"Xander?" Angel asked from the doorway in a voice even more confused than normal.
"Get him off me," Xander begged, and yeah, having to beg Angel for anything fairly well sucked big time, but it was better than the alternative because Spike was still in game face looking seriously pissed.
"Spike?" Angel asked in an equally confused voice.
"Get out, Peaches. This don't have anythin' to do with you." Spike turned and gave his sire a long look before turning back around to pull Xander's shoes and socks off. Xander looked up at the larger vampire standing in the open doorway hoping to send his own silent message, but Angel refused to look at him.
"Aren't you supposed to be doing the whole rescue thing here?" Xander asked desperately as Spike pulled him even closer so that his bound feet touched the floor and Spike started pushing up on the shirt Spike had given him in the back of the van. "Angel?" Xander squeaked as he looked up desperately.
"Spike, maybe you should…."
"Angel, I don't have time to deal with your guilt on top of this, so if ya want to do any good, take your cheerleader out for dinner."
"The sun is coming up."
"Figure somethin' out, just bugger off."
"Angel?" Xander begged weakly as Spike forced the shirt over his head, pulling the shirt off him.
"Xander, I…" Angel stopped, and Xander suddenly knew that he couldn't look to Angel for protection. Spike was his family, and Xander was just the tag-along he put up with the same way Angel had put up with him for Buffy's sake. Xander turned his head, watching the green drapes and letting himself go limp as Spike pulled his hands together and tied them with the shirt.
"Not now, mate. Just get out," Spike said and then he grabbed Xander by the arms and shifted him so that Xander's head was on the pillow, pushing Xander's legs up onto the bed.
"Xander," Angel said, but Xander just continued to stare at the curtains. Angel had chosen a side, and Xander just had to accept that. Angel made small sighing noises. "I'll be right down the hall," Angel finally offered.
"Just stay the hell out of this, ya overgrown potato farmer," Spike said as he straddled Xander's body, and Xander trembled as he raised his hands over his head to give Spike more access to his chest. Spike had punished him in the past, and the whole throwing punches was way more punish-worthy than whatever he had done last time, which he couldn't even remember now.
Angel didn't say anything else, but the door closed, and Xander closed his eyes and waited. And he waited. He had intended to just stay quiet during the punishment, but he found he couldn't wait with the lack of punishment—he opened his eyes to find Spike just sitting on his thighs.
"Well?" he asked, and then shut his mouth quickly because antagonizing the demon sitting on him was a very Droopish thing to do.
"Well what?" Spike asked as he shifted and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his thighs. Xander just stared up silently.
"Bloody hell, can't keep up with your mood shift today. What the hell am I going to do with you?"
"Um, let me go?
"Is that what you want?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Why?" Spike asked in a curious voice, his head tilted.
"Um, huh?" Xander asked. Of all the possible responses, he would have guessed this one. "What do you mean why?"
"Why the soddin' hell are you suddenly so keen on walkin' away?" Spike asked, his eyes now blue and curious and locked onto Xander in a way that made Xander squirm. He looked away before answering.
"Um, to be free?" he answered in his best 'no-duh' voice. Of course, the minute it came out of his mouth, he flinched. Just stop trying to annoy the vampire, Xander ordered himself.
"Not buyin' it, pet. Start talking. What are you thinking right now?"
Xander simply stared off toward the curtain again, and then he gasped as Spike pulled his jeans open, the sound of the zipper loud in the silence of the room. Xander didn't even have time to bring his bound hands down to protect himself before he found himself flipped over to his stomach with his jeans around his knees. He heard the sound of Spike's hand hitting his ass before the heat of the strike registered in his brain. And even then, his brain obviously didn't get the right message because the sharp heat and sting made him groan in need and ache in ways that had nothing to do with punishment.
"Well? Ya ready to talk now?"
Xander remained silent, not really sure how to answer since the only answer he had would just make Spike more angry. Of course keeping silent wasn't smart either, and Xander gasped as another set of slaps landed on his backside, harder this time. He tried pushing up using his hands, and Spike easily pushed him back down to the bed before finishing off with three hard swats that definitely crossed the line between fun pain and not-so fun pain.
"Ow," Xander complained as he squirmed.
"So, tell me what you're thinkin', pet." Spike scooted backwards so that his weight was on the back of Xander's knees, and Xander blinked to keep the tears from his eyes, and he opened his mouth without saying anything. Five more slaps, harder than any previous hits sent him struggling to crawl up the bed, away from Spike, but strong hands closed over his hips and held him in place.
"Stop, please, just stop," Xander begged, barely getting out one word at a time with his ragged breath.
"What are you feeling?" Spike asked calmly.
"Scared," Xander immediately answered.
"Of what?"
"The vampire hitting me?" Xander could hear the incredulous, snotty tone in his own voice, and he braced himself for more hits that didn't come.
"What about you scares ya, pet?" Spike simply asked.
"Um, the hitting?"
"Why does the hitting scare ya? What do you think will happen?"
"Hitting… hurting… hurting… hitting, what's not to fear?" Xander gave a yelp when he found himself flipped onto his back, his hot butt hitting the bedspread and making him arch up away from the sting. Spike's hands on his hips pushed him back down and Xander tried to ignore his hard cock laying against his stomach just like he tried to ignore the feeling over every wrinkle and fiber in the bedspread pressing against his hot, tender skin.
"Do ya really think I'd hurt ya, pet?"
Xander looked up, and Spike had a confused and possibly even hurt expression. "There was the whole microscope thing," Xander pointed out, dropping his eyes back down and looking at his own treacherous cock still hard despite his own best interests to control it.
"Oi, that doesn't count."
"You gave me a concussion."
"That was before."
"Before Buffy," Xander said quietly.
"Before I fell in love with you, you git," Spike corrected him, and Xander looked up. "Bloody hell, have I ever hurt you since the day I came and found ya?" Spike demanded, and Xander had to think back on that.
"Um, no?" Xander didn't miss the way Spike flinched at his answer, and his own stomach knotted at the expression on Spike's face. However, Spike just reached down and cupped his cheek.
"Wouldn't ever hurt ya, pet. So what makes ya fear me?"
"Stupid not to, not that I'm all not-stupid guy."
"What are you afraid I'll do, pet?"
"The hurting isn't enough?"
"Don't really seem to be botherin' ya much, truth be told," Spike said, and Xander gasped for air as Spike's hand closed around his cock.
"And yet the lack of bothering is really kinda bothering," Xander answered, pulling at the shirt tied around his wrists even though he knew from experience that anything Spike tied was going to stay tied until Spike untied it.
"Bloody hell, you're feelin' afraid of not being afraid?" Spike demanded as he sat up and gave Xander the most confused look Xander had seen since the day Spike had first tried to figure out the washing machine.
"I'm not supposed to want this," Xander said quietly as he dropped his gaze back down to his own stubbornly hard cock.
"Bollocks, if we're going to worry about 'supposed to,' I'm supposed to be out there eatin' the villagers. Hell, after what Angelus taught me, I'm supposed ta be drinking down nuns and burning churches. Poof always did have a thing against the Catholic church. So, let's leave 'supposed to' out of this."
"And yet I'm not feeling better," Xander pointed out with a partial shrug. His tied hands made the gesture awkward and as his ass settled into a dull throb, his cock twitched in time with the pain.
"Balmy git. Why aren't ya supposed ta like this?"
"Um, hello. Not really manly to be all okay with getting tied up and spanked."
"So, you're afraid of me makin' ya enjoy this?" Spike tightened his hand around Xander's cock and started a slow stroke, the heat of dry skin pulling against dry skin heating Xander's cock deliciously.
"No," Xander objected, pushing against the hand Spike held on his chest keeping him down on the bed. Spike gave him a wicked leer, the tip of his tongue appearing between his lips, and Xander pushed harder. "NO." Xander bucked up and shoved Spike's hand off his chest.
The vampire was so surprised that Xander managed to knock him off balance and push him back. Twisting to his side, Xander threw himself toward the edge of the bed even though some part of his brain pointed out that he had less than zero chance of getting anywhere. Spike proved that by grabbing his shoulder, and then Xander found himself tossed back onto the bed, Spike's weight pressing down on him, his bound wrists trapped between their bodies.
"Off. Get off!" Xander demanded, bucking wildly but not managing to do more than rise an inch from the bed before Spike's weight and his bound ankles conspiring to trap him.
"Calm down."
"Off," Xander demanded again, and he got about as far as he had last time.
"Bloody hell, just calm down."
"Just—" Xander stopped as he anger suddenly flipped into hot shame that brought tears to his eyes. He wasn't strong enough to stop Spike. He couldn't free himself… he couldn't even stop his cock from lying between them hard and aching even now.
"Xander, listen. Can ya hear me?"
"Yeah," Xander let his body go limp under Spike's weight. "I can't. Please, just… please." Xander closed his eyes and tried to ignore his body's reaction to being trapped under Spike. Except now Spike was sliding off to the side, his body resting on the bed and leaning against Xander's side, a single arm around Xander's waist holding him in place.
"Just what, pet? You're actin' weirder than usual here, and I'm not following wherever you're goin' in your head." Spike's one hand traced small figures on the bare skin of his side while the other went to Xander's hair.
"I just want out." Xander knew Spike heard him because the body beside him went suddenly still. "Please, just untie me," Xander asked softly with his eyes still closed. He didn't want to see Spike's expression because he knew that if he had to see the betrayal on Spike's face he couldn't go through with it, and he needed to go through with it.
"Pet—"
"Not your pet."
"Xander, open your eyes and look at me."
Even though Xander didn't want to, he did open his eyes, his body trained to accept orders even when his common sense told him it was a stupid thing to do, and yes stupid was the word of the day because he could feel his stomach twist into a cold knot as he looked at the expression on Spike's face. The same cold, distant expression he'd sometimes use on Angel. The same expression he often got when someone mentioned Buffy.
"Remember what she said about this?" Spike asked, and the hand released Xander's waist to reach up and trace the edges of the tattooed snake and falcon.
"And this would be the woman that kidnapped you and does all this crazy stuff? I'm thinking she might not be the most reliable source of information," Xander pointed out.
"Tell me why."
"Doesn't matter."
"It bloody well does. I'm not letting go of you because some bug crawled up your butt and died."
"And you were the poet?" Xander asked, making a small laugh that immediately died when Spike's face took on a sharper look.
"Listen, if ya still want to be free in the morning, we'll call the Poof in here and he'll help ya get set up somewhere else. He'll make sure I don't even know where ya are, and he'll make sure ya have enough of my money to make a new life," Spike said. "Hell, it'll make him so happy we'll have to check and make sure his soddin' soul stayed plastered on."
"You'd do—" Xander stopped, not sure how he felt about that.
"I'd do whatever it took ta make ya happy, but I'm not walkin' away from this until you can give me a reason other than 'supposed to' or 'it doesn't matter'."
"That's about it for reasons. I got nothing else here," Xander quickly answered and then found himself even more quickly flipped back over onto his stomach, his hands trapped beneath his stomach, and Spike this time straddling his upper back and shoulders. And like last time, the swats on his butt made the skin burn and sting as Xander squirmed.
"So, let's get something straight here, pet. I'm not walkin' away without a good reason, and you're not goin' to lie ta me as long as you belong to me, which will be until you can come up with a better reason than any of the rot you've tried so far."
Spike spanked him five more times, and Xander yelped in pain. He just knew his ass had to be red with Spike-shaped handprints. "So, why are ya scared of enjoyin' this?"
"I shouldn't," Xander cried out, hoping to stop the swats. Spike's cool hand now ran over the heated skin, soothing the flesh and making Xander squirm and pull at the leather around his ankles.
"Why not, pet?"
"It's not normal."
"Not like you've had a normal life last year or so," Spike pointed out and Xander remained silent. "So what have you got to feel guilty about?" Spike's finger slipped down into the crease of Xander's ass, barely brushing the edge of the hidden hole and sending a hot spike of lust straight to Xander's cock.
Xander gathered his thoughts, trying to figure out a way to answer that, but he didn't answer fast enough. The hand that had soothed his bruised backside raised up and delivered five hot, hard, sharp slaps to the bottom part of his ass, right where he would have to sit and feel it. Xander yelped.
"What have ya got to feel guilty about?" Spike repeated.
"Rape would be one."
"Ya didn't rape anyone. Bloody hell, you lot with souls can turn anythin' into guilt. You happened to be attached to the cock the slavers used, but you weren't controllin' it any more than she was." And the hand that had spanked him not returned to soothing the angry flesh, gently tracing the lines curves of Xander's body.
"Like usual," Xander snorted as he tried to squirm his hands into a more comfortable position.
"What's that mean, pet?"
"What?"
"How is it you don't usually control your cock?"
Xander froze as he realized what he had let slip. "Just that it follows orders now… get hard, get soft, come now." Xander stopped when another set of slaps targeted his upper thighs.
"You usually lie better'n that, pet."
"Out of practice," Xander admitted after several deep breaths. He wasn't sure whether his needy gasps were to struggle through the pain of the spanking or the need to thrust his hard cock into the bed below him.
"So let's try this again. How is it you don't usually control your cock?"
"I just… can't we just skip the humiliation and get on to the blaming part of the breakup?" Xander asked, and a sharp pinch on his already hot ass told him the answer to that.
"I shouldn't want this," Xander said helplessly.
"And we're moving backwards now 'cause you already pointed that out. Why shouldn't you want this? What's wrong with knowing that I'm here to protect you and make sure you don't go hurting yourself? What's wrong with trustin' me?" Spike's weight disappeared off his back, and then Xander was pulled up so that he was on his side and half in Spike's lap as the vampire leaned against the headboard. Xander pulled up his knees so that he was curled up with his upper body resting against Spike's thighs.
"A real man should do the whole protector thing, and here I am curled up in your lap about two seconds away from crying, and this is doing bad things to my manliness," Xander admitted softly.
"Nothin' wrong with wanting to have a safe place ta hide after the things you've seen, pet." Spike's hand went back to Xander's hair, petting gently.
"Not really blaming the kidnapping and torture thing. I'm thinking I was wired wrong from day one."
"Ya aren't wired wrong, pet. Nothing in the world wrong with you except havin' too big of a heart."
"Not really. I shouldn't want this. I never should have wanted this because ya know, wanting something on a Hellmouth, not so smart. And I've lived on a Hellmouth long enough to know that wanting something on a Hellmouth is not so much with the smartness, and really I'm hoping you're going to do something to stop me here because the whole babble thing… not really my thing anymore." Xander took a deep breath as the tears he had so recently fought back threatened once more.
"What did ya want, pet?"
"Oh, that's the thing. It's not really what I wanted, but I kinda wanted it, but you know what they say about being careful for what you wish for. That goes double on a Hellmouth."
"What did you wish for, pet?"
"I was just so damn tired of being there for everyone, ya know?" Xander's guilt made the words hard to say.
"Yeah, pet. Always bein' there and not havin' anyone see that you're there. I know."
"And really, it was so damn stupid."
"We all wish for somethin' stupid sometimes. Me, I wished for Cecily. She probably turned into a bloody shrew who verbally emasculated her husband. Lots of Victorian women did that."
"I wished for Faith," Xander admitted in a whisper so small only a vampire could hear.
"From what I hear, ya got Faith."
"Yeah, but I wished for more, ya know. I was so tired of being scared and fighting, and I'm really a coward and no one figured out that I was this big fraud. Nearly peed my pants taking on Angelus with a rock."
"Most men pee their pants when faced with Angelus. Armed and trained soldiers peed their pants. Takin' him on with a rock should've made you pee your pants."
"But Willow and Buffy, after they got over being mad about the whole 'kick his ass' comment, after that they were all complimenty about how I would always back them up, and really, I just wanted an excuse to not have to, which is, you know, big time wrong. And then along comes Faith… she just grabbed me and threw me down and oh buddy was that a good time, at least for me because I finished a little quick for her I think."
"You thought she'd be the excuse." Spike's words were soft but sure, and Xander flinched as he realized Spike had untangled his disjointed story.
He nodded. "I used to have this daydream where she came to my house and just took me, and then I'd be her love slave and I'd have an excuse to not have to be the cavalry with the rock, and how pathetic am I?"
"Lots of people have fantasies, pet."
"I fucking fantasized about playing sex slave to evil slayer girl. My fantasy was how to abandon my friends and get away with it. My fantasy was to have evil ride up and take me away and turn me into their little pet, and you know, I'm thinking I kinda deserved Leshar because with the exception of the whole male thing and evil thing and selling my services thing, that was sorta my whole fantasy, wasn't it?" Xander's words rose in volume as his anger returned, his anger at himself and at Leshar who had made that dirty little thought all too real. Of course, his dirty little thoughts never included the death… the pain… the fear and the guilt and the hatred.
"Soddin'… ." Spike paused before continuing. "Pet, fantasy isn't reality. Ya don't have anything to feel guilty about."
"And when I was with Leshar, and he killed that girl, when I looked at her blood-- I told myself it wasn't my fault because I was *just* a slave and I didn't have choices and I didn't have to be the hero any more, and a part of me was way too okay with that," Xander blurted in one breath.
"You were just tryin' to survive."
"And now? I'm the little slave serving master and I can hide, and this… it isn't right. I shouldn't want this. I should want to be free."
"Why isn't it right?"
"Um, thought that was a little obvious."
"No soul, pet. Sometimes you lot with souls have funny ideas about right and wrong."
"I'm hiding. I should be out there fixing what I screwed up and instead I'm lying in your lap crying." Xander reached up as he finally realized he was crying, and wiped his tears away.
"Right. So let's take this one soddin' issue at a time. First, why do you feel guilty about abandoning your friends? Ya never did that. Ya stood by them until the day someone ripped you away."
"And yet I wanted to leave." Xander wiped at the new tears that appeared.
"The slayer bloody well *did* leave. Red thought about leavin', goin' to college somewhere else and lettin' you lot handle the Hellmouth. Peaches left—couldn't take it any more. Love Joyce like a mother, and yet her first reaction to findin' out 'bout the slayer package was to push Buffy away. Everyone wants to walk away when it gets tough, but you stayed put. You kept right on playin' white knight even when ya didn't want to."
"Doctor Spike," Xander said with a small smile. "Not to be confused with Doctor Spock or Mr. Spock or Mr. Rogers."
"Loon." Spike answered with a familiar tug on a lock of hair. "And havin' fantasies doesn't mean Leshar is one bit less evil, and while I don't have a problem with evil in general, evil that touches my humans has a short life expectancy."
"I shouldn't want—"
Spike interrupted. "Bloody hell, Xander, millions if not billions of dollars get spent on cuffs and restraints and bars and bloody fancy silk rope. If it's so bloody wrong, why the hell are so many people doin' it? And there are not that many soddin' demons out there with internet shopping habits and credit cards."
"They don't hate themselves like I do," Xander pointed out as he stared at absolutely nothing, the entire room out of focus.
"Pet, listen to me. I'm not Leshar, and I'm not goin' ta force anythin' on ya." Spike voice had a small tremor that Xander could barely hear. "People give themselves to each other because it makes them feel whole and needed. People make commitments because it's what works for them… it's how they make each other feel good." Spike's hand stopped stoking Xander's hair, and Xander allowed Spike to push him up so that he was leaning against the headboard as Spike reached over and untied Xander hands.
"There's nothin' wrong with you and there's nothin' wrong with wanting to feel good and wantin' to make someone else feel good." The shirt came free, and Xander rubbed his wrists and watched as Spike reached down and pulled Xander's jeans up far enough for him to reach the buckle of the belt.
"You're a stupidly brave human, always fightin' for other people, and this rot about you tryin' to run away *is* rot. Otherwise, you would have made Faith the offer. She was tempted away by her need for approval, but you were the one who stayed strong." Spike pulled the belt free before dropping it on the floor next to the bed.
"I'll miss you, but if you can't be with me without tearin' yourself apart, I understand that." Spike kept his back to Xander as he walked over to the dresser and grabbed the duster draped over the chair next to it.
"Just don't ever tell me where ya are because I will come lookin' for ya, and you will find yourself chained to my bed for the next decade or so. Angel probably already has some safe house picked out, and trust me, he might be broody, but he can keep a secret." The click of the lighter and the smell of cigarette filled the silence as Spike lit a cigarette, and it was only in the silence that Xander suddenly understood Spike's offer. He pulled his jeans up and stood next to the bed.
"Spike?" Xander asked.
"You never gave yourself to me. Should've seen that, but I never have been very good at seein' what I didn't want to see. You needed somewhere to heal and find yourself again, but don't ever think that needin' that makes you any less strong. Different kinds of strength in the world, that's what the unsouled version of Peaches never did figure out. He thought he needed to run around killin' and that anyone who did somethin' different was weak."
"You aren't weak," Xander said, recognizing the pain in Spike's words.
"You aren't either, pet," Spike answered without turning around, the smoke from his cigarette drifting up to the ceiling. "Just always keep that in mind." Spike took a deep pull at the cigarette so that Xander could see the reddish glow like a halo around Spike's head in the dim room. He waited for something else, but Spike didn't say anything else, and Xander stood in the dark not sure how to mend the sudden rift he could feel between them. He wasn't sure he knew how to or if he wanted to or if he should. Standing in the dim room, Xander suddenly wasn't sure of anything any more.
