Xander stared, his cock suddenly harder than it had been in…well, a long long time.  “Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to be late.”

“Are we?”  Spike asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Oh yeah.”  Xander tied the corset laces with shaking fingers, then ran his hands over Spike’s hips, feeling where the leather ended and the skin started.  “Silk?” he asked as he fingered the edge of the black panties.

“Uh huh.”  There was a teasing note in Spike’s voice, but it was cut through with the dark edge of rising need.  Xander loved that sound.  “Like?”

Xander nodded, his mouth grazing Spike’s shoulder.  “Not bad,” he said as his fingers traced the lower edges.  “Like the feel of it.”  Xander splayed his hand wide, the upper fingers still on the black silk, the lower on the stockings.

Spike made a low noise and pushed back, rubbing his silk clad ass against Xander’s groin.  “So do I.”

“Don’t move,” Xander whispered, his breath quickening further.  He rubbed his denim-trapped erection against Spike, his hands moving again.  “Don’t let go of  the dresser.”

Spike nodded and made another sound, one that sounded almost pleading. 

Xander’s cock throbbed in response.  “Oh, you like that.  I know,” Xander purred, rubbing harder, his hands wandering over Spike’s thighs, feeling the muscles under the silk.  “I always know.”

“Everyone always knows,” Spike said mockingly.  “I don’t aim for subtle often.”  The mocking tone turned to something else as Xander’s hand palmed Spike’s hard-on.  “Oh bloody hell.”

Xander tried to chuckle, but it sounded a little hysterical to his own ears.  He was having trouble thinking.  He could smell leather and Spike, and it was just like always that way, but this was something else.  This was Spike in leather and steel; this was Spike in silk and leather; this was Spike in make-up, and holy fuck he was going to come in his pants if he didn’t get out of them.  He squeezed Spike’s cock once before letting go, both of them moaning.

He pulled off his shirt in one fluid movement, had his jeans undone and off as soon as he could.  Xander wrapped his arms around Spike, fingers digging into the leather as he ground his prick against the silk on Spike’s ass.  “Oh shit.  Silk nice.”

Spike groaned and pushed back, and Xander was humping him like mad, his cock leaking and aching, his balls heavy. 

“Fuck me, Xander,” Spike said hoarsely.  “Christ, just do it—need you in me.”

Xander groaned and froze, only a minor miracle keeping him from coming then and there.  “Lube?” he asked when he could.

The dresser creaked as Spike’s arms flexed.  “Same place as always, nitwit.”

Xander bit him on the shoulder and stepped back, going to the bedside table.  When he turned around, lube in hand, he stared once more.  Spike was stunning, utterly perfect.  Almost.

“What about shoes?” Xander asked slowly, his hand going to his own groin and cupping his balls.

Spike blinked at him for a moment. “Boots.”  Then his expression cleared, grew wicked.  “Want me to put ‘em on?”

“Fuck yes,”  Xander said, starting to stroke his cock slowly.

It took an eternity for Spike to get the boots on.  Patent leather, they came up over his knees, lacing all the way, and when Spike stood up he was several inches taller.

“Oh god,” Xander whimpered.

He didn’t really remember moving to Spike, or falling to his knees, but there he was, licking at Spike’s cock through the silk, wet from Spike’s pre-come, his mouth moving restlessly up and down the length of it.

Spike gasped and pushed into him, hands tangled in Xander’s hair.  “Xander—oh shit—Xander.”  He sounded like he had something else to say, but the words were choked out by the groans.

Xander licked him again, dragged his teeth gently over the silk, and Spike swore again.  “Gonna fuck you now,” Xander said, looking up into Spike’s eyes.

Spike turned his body a quarter turn and held onto the dresser again.  “Hard.”

“Oh yeah,”  Xander growled, standing up.  He tore the silk away and slicked his fingers and cock as quickly as he could, then licked Spike’s neck.  “Spread your legs a little more.  Gonna fuck you so hard you start to breathe.”

Spike gave a harsh noise that tried to be both a laugh and a groan, but he spread his feet a little more, his ass tilting from the way the heels had him leaning forward.

Xander groaned as well, his fingers opening Spike quickly, as fast as he dared.  He knew Spike didn’t mind a little pain, liked it rough, but Xander still preferred to make sure his lover was ready.  Usually.  This time, though, with Spike riding his fingers and swearing under his breath, it didn’t seem so important.

Not as important as getting in there, as being inside that tight hole and just pounding away until they both screamed. One fast hard thrust and he was doing just that, hips snapping as he ploughed into Spike, hands gripping Spike’s hips hard enough to bruise a human—maybe even a vampire, though they’d fade too fast.

“Jesus,” Spike moaned.  “There, oh fuck me, right there!”

Xander grunted and pulled Spike back onto his cock, going deep and hitting the spot Spike wanted, over and over.  Even he could smell it, sex and passion and leather, the mix heady.  Spike must have been half out of his mind.

Xander plunged into him again, scraping his teeth over Spike’s shoulder.  He wanted to say something, to tell Spike how hot he looked, how fucking good he felt, but he could barely breathe, let alone talk.  Spike was grunting with him, every thrust making them rock into the dresser, and Xander finally found the presence of mind to unpry one hand and find Spike’s cock with it.

Wet with pre-come, so hard it had to hurt, Xander stroked Spike firmly once, then again.

Spike screamed and came, spasming around Xander’s prick, pulling Xander right to the edge.  It was the smell of it, the sound of spunk hitting the front of the dresser that made Xander finally go wild, thrusting without finesse or rhythm, just fucking him until his eyes rolled back and he came as well, cock throbbing as he shot.

Panting, he leaned his head on Spike’s back, breathing in the smell of leather, his hands touching silk on Spike’s legs, leather on his chest.  “Holy fuck,” he gasped.

Spike nodded, his hands still gripping the dresser.  “Bloody good, love.”  There was a pause and Spike asked, “We still going to the party?”

~end


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Ending number one.  If they've never had sex before....

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