Brown Paper Packagesby Alexandria
Chapter Two
Xander paced back and forth in front of the windows, glancing out every few seconds. "Damn it, the mail's usually here by now," he growled under his breath. He shot another angry glare out the window, muttering quietly. Luckily, it was Saturday so his obsession could continue unabated. "Never takes this long," he muttered, moving back to the television and checking that the VCRs were properly set up for the fifth time that morning. He had already made a copy of the other tape, then a backup copy, just in case. He knew, in some distant part of his mind, that he had long ago crossed that line that separated fantasy from obsession. Now, he couldn't sleep if he didn't jack off while watching Spike, especially not after long nights of patrol, hearing that smooth voice, seeing that cool hair, lost in those brilliant eyes. He ran his fingers down the growing stack of tapes stacked next to his video camera. He had indeed filmed Buffy slaying, but those tapes were back with Giles. These, these were his tapes, the ones he had managed to take of Spike. Mostly profile shots, as it was hard to surreptitiously film Spike while pointing the camera right at him. But he did have a few shots here and there of Spike grinning, amused at some private joke. It was the grin that got him every time. He could close his eyes and see that grin just before Spike leaned over to kiss him, see the arch to the eyebrow as Spike's head moved down, see . . . Xander shook his head sharply. Wouldn't do to start seeing that now. Not when much, much better sights were shortly to be had. He whipped around as he heard the unmistakable sound of the postal truck pulling away. He ran down the stairs, opened his mailbox and saw it. Yet another nondescript brown paper package. He bit his lower lip and tore back up the stairs.
"Ok, here we go. Basic Training: Sir, Yes, Sir. The Pet. Boys In Blue: Hands Up & Spread Em. That's the stuff." He drank in the titles, running his finger down each spine. He noticed that the usual star shot on the cover was missing. He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. "Of course there's no picture, doesn't photograph, just films, remember." He picked up a tape at random, not really caring which one as long as he could see Spike again. He pulled the blinds closed, turned off the phone and settled on the couch.
He almost swallowed his tongue when he first saw Spike on screen. There he was in all his glory. Wearing camouflage from head to toe, hat and all. Only the boots looked the same. And if Xander thought the jeans Spike usually wore were tight, well, dear merciful heavens, the jeans were positively baggy compared to this. Xander realised in a daze that this was the first time he had ever seen Spike in anything other than black jeans, black T-shirt, red shirt. And no duster. No duster. He stared, unblinking, trying to fix the image in his mind. If there was anything sexier than this , he didn't know what it was. There was just something about a man in uniform.
His consciousness suddenly slammed back into him, however, when he heard the words rip from the speakers. "Soldier, have to teach you some discipline. Drop and give me twenty." He saw Spike just bow his head and Xander's throat tightened at that. Spike, submitting to someone. He watched as Spike dropped down to his knees, watched the white fingers reach up and pull the other man's shaft out. Watched the mouth descend, heard the faint sound of counting. He swallowed hard, scooting forward on the couch, the maddening slurping sound driving him insane. His eyes grew wider as he saw Spike swallow the man down to his sac, sucking the thickness fully down his throat. Xander groaned, clearly picturing how that must feel. Long, long minutes passed while Spike feasted on the prick, his head held firmly in place by the hands on his shoulders. Finally, with a cry of triumph, the other man came, pulling out from Spike's mouth and shooting over Spike's back. With that, Spike suddenly stood, reached up and threw the man over his shoulder, pinning him face first to the ground.
"Think it's time to break ranks." With that, Spike began running hard hands over the man's back, slowly, so slowly ripping apart the clothes. He merely pulled the man's pants down, so that all that showed was a swatch of back between the tatters of the shirt and a perfect ass. Spike yanked the man upwards, until he was on all fours and then leaned down, tracing his tongue down the ridges of spine. He reached the man's ass, where he began to suck fiercely, quickly raising red welts. The man whimpered and Spike pulled away, yanking the man's head back by his hair.
"Who needs discipline now, soldier boy." With that, Spike stripped off his own pants, moving back to run just the tip of his cock along the crack in the man's ass. The man whimpered louder, trying desperately to throw himself backwards and take Spike into him. Spike kept just far enough away so that the man could feel the tracing but could do nothing more about it. Spike kept up the firm grip in the man's hair until, suddenly, he plunged straight into the body beneath him. The man's sudden cry was drowned out by Xander's who came immediately, not even needing to touch himself. His rhythmic hip thrusts combined with rubbing against the fabric of his jeans had made that unnecessary. He breathed deeply then moved into the kitchen, desperately in need of a beer. Who cared that it was only 11:30 in the morning.
Xander sat propped up against the couch, having realised that he was much more comfortable leaning against the couch, naked, then sitting there half clothed. He had watched Basic Training five times so far, still shaking his head in wonderment at the scene on top of the Humvee. He didn't know you could bend like that. Or that two people could fit themselves into one mouth if they really, really wanted to.
But now, now he was ready for something new. He ejected the tapes and placed The Pet in the playback VCR and a new blank tape in the one which would record. He leaned comfortably back and watched as the scene unfurled.
A long, dark room. Some type of deep red hangings covered the walls, the light coming from the torches held in the sconces on the wall. A cage was in the centre of the room, the bars running nearly the width and length of the room. Inside the cage was a low couch, wide and covered with plush pillows in the same red as the hangings on the wall. A low chanting could be heard in the background and a dark figure could be seen sitting with its back against the entrance to the cage. A swirl of black and Spike entered the room, dressed now in a plain white shirt, a black cape with blood red lining and black pants. Spike reached up, untying the cape and letting it fall to the floor. He dipped into a pocket, pulling out a small gold key. Moving forward, he inserted the key into the lock, turning it with a small click. The figure inside the door stiffened, then slowly stood, his back still to the entrance. He was completely naked. Spike walked in, reached out and grasped the figure by the chin, forcing the figure to turn into the light.
"Now, pet, why are you hiding. You know that you are mine to play with." With that, Spike pulled the body forward, directly into the flickering light cast by the torch just overhead. Xander gasped. The man had golden skin, dark, thick hair and, when he opened his eyes, dark, dark brown eyes. He resembled Xander, not entirely but enough. Enough to cause Xander's pupils to dilate and his breathing to quicken. Spike leaned up, placing a hard, cruel kiss on the boy's lips, then pushed him over to the couch. The boy backed away and it was then that Xander could see the shackle on his right leg, could see that the chain was fixed to the far side of the cell, enough to allow freedom of movement but not enough to allow escape.
"Pet, you are mine, you live for my pleasure." The words, spoken so lowly, still rang out. The boy just nodded mutely. Spike pushed him down on the couch then stepped back, tilting his head to survey the scene before him. With a curt nod, he moved to the chest in the corner of the cage, opening it to reveal thick, braided lengths of silk rope. He moved back to the couch and began to expertly tie the man to the bars of the cage, spreading the boy's arms out wide, latching the boy's free leg to a ring in the floor. When the vampire was finally satisfied that the boy could not break free, he pulled his clothes off.
"Now, pet, you shall do all that I ask. Open your mouth." The boy complied immediately. Spike moved up to straddle his body, then reached a hand down, running it along the boy's tongue, then using his now wet finger to trace the boy's lips. A shudder ran through the boy's body as Spike dipped two fingers into his mouth, running both fingers straight down the boy's throat. The boy shut his mouth briefly, swallowing hard, then willingly opened his mouth as Spike's hand moved back to his lips. This time, however, Spike suddenly dipped his head down, sucking the boy's tongue out and curling it around his own. Spike's hands had dropped to the boy's nipples, which he was pinching and teasing until they were hard points. Spike moved down, lapping once at each nipple then suddenly moved back up. Now it was his prick which he ran along the boy's swollen lower lip, forcing it into the boy's mouth an inch at a time.
"Use your tongue, pet. That's right, do what I say." The words of command were no sooner spoken then the boy eagerly began to comply, lifting his head as far off the couch as he could reach, eager to swallow Spike whole. Xander licked his lips as he heard moaning coming from the screen, seeing Spike's head toss back, baring his throat. Xander imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like to bite Spike there, right on the base of his throat.
Spike began to thrust lazily in and out of the man's mouth, reaching one hand up to run through the boy's hair. The boy's eyes were closed, a look of rapture on his face. Spike pulled back, trailing the wet edge of himself down the boy's body.
"Now, pet, do you think you can be good?"
"Yes, master, so good, anything you say." The words were moaned out as the boy began to writhe beneath Spike.
"That's a good pet. Good pets get rewards." With that, Spike moved down between the boy's legs, lowered his head and gave three tremendous licks to the boy's weeping head. The boy shuddered hard against the ropes as Spike took him fully into his mouth.
"Yes, that's my pet. Nice and wet now." With that Spike moved back up the boy's body. He positioned himself over the hard shaft and then gently eased down, taking the boy completely into his ass. Xander felt himself harden to almost impossible stiffness as he pictured doing just that, burying himself completely in Spike. He began to move in time to the thrusting on the screen, Spike riding the boy hard, the boy pulling against the ropes, chafing his wrists. Xander saw Spike's eyes close, saw him reach down and release one of the boy's hands, simply ripping the rope away.
"There pet, right there, just like that." Spike wrapped the boy's hand around his own cock and the boy began to pump. Spike's head rolled back again and Xander swore he heard Spike gasp. He pulled off the boy just as the boy spurted high in the air, just as Spike himself came in long gushes up the boy's stomach, just as Xander tightened his grip and felt the shudders wash over him. He slumped back against the couch, all his bones suddenly turning to water.
Spike tilted his head, breathing in deeply, a knowing grin crossing his face. He could smell the whelp down the hall. It was fairly obvious what had kept Xander home, alone, on a fine Saturday night. Spike moved down the hallway, faintly hearing movement in Xander's apartment. It sounded like someone was, well, mopping the floor. That was odd. Or maybe not. Spike's grinned widened. He was bored. Bored out of his mind. There had been nothing worth killing tonight, just some fledglings. No wonder the whelp had called earlier and bailed on patrol, must have known that his pastime would be more fun. Spike had pestered the rest of the gang for a while, until even their banter had worn thin. He had decided to see just what Xander was doing, shutting himself away alone on a weekend like this. Besides, he could always get a rise out of the boy and that should be good for some laughs.
Spike pounded on the door. "Whelp, I know you're there. Open the door." He heard the muffled curse and then suddenly the door was yanked open. He grinned again when he saw the look of shock on Xander's face. He took in the flushed cheeks, the dishevelled hair. Even without the strong scent, it would have been obvious what Xander had been doing.
"So, pet, would ask what you were," a significant pause as Spike looked Xander over from head to toe, "up to, so to speak. But that seems fairly clear. Must be shitty to go back to Mr. Hand after that demon bint."
Xander just stared back. Spike was standing in his doorway. Spike. Actual Spike. Real Spike. Starting to get pissed off Spike.
"Pet, are you going to move or what? Don't fancy standing in your hallway all evening."
Xander felt the blood rush to his face, well, mostly his face when he heard the words. **Spike called me pet** He just stared a moment more, then an evil grin crossed his face.
"Oh sure, Spike, come on in. Been wanting to talk to you lately myself."
Xander watched as Spike strode in, as always with the air that he owned whatever room he occupied. Xander padded to the kitchen, grabbing beer for them both, pausing for a moment to swipe the box for Boys In Blue from off the top of the television. He came back, handed Spike a beer, waited until Spike took a good hard pull and then held up the box.
"Hey Spike, I never knew you had such hidden talents."
He was rewarded by the sudden spray of beer that shot out of Spike's mouth.