[identity profile] spike-1790.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse

Title: Arrived
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Spike/Xander, Andrew)
Prompt: 295- Disheveled @[livejournal.com profile] tamingthemuse & 05- Touch @[livejournal.com profile] kinda_gay
Warnings: M/M, voyeurism, language
Rating: NC-17 (just to be on the safe side)
Summary: Second in the voyeurism!verse. Set in Season 6. Xander gets hit with the invisibility ray instead of Buffy. Word Count: 1, 037
A/N: Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] pellasodear for kicking my muse’s arse into gear :) UNBETA'D


It wasn’t running and hiding. No. It was walking casually away at high speed and hoping not to be found for a while. Not that any of that sounded in the least bit convincing to Andrew. Warren was going too far now. Okay, the idea of having Buffy as their willing sex kitten was mildly appealing, and he had helped steal the diamond and put the freeze ray together. And he had played a minor role in testing Buffy’s abilities when she came back from the grave, but that didn’t mean he was one of the bad guys. Just… a little bit naughty.

But now something beyond bad had happened! Xander was invisible. He could be anywhere. He could be here, right now, watching me… Andrew adjusted himself in the super-cool leather pants he’d been trying to impress Spike with- helps if I actually see Spike if I’m going to try my hand at seduction- and took a second to worry about how the tightness might be doing lasting damage to his very important manly parts, regardless of whether or not Xander was watching him.

That was when the first of his not-so-great ideas popped unbidden into his head. He could find Spike, drop hints about Xander’s sudden, completely unprovoked case of invisibility AND show off his new leather pants at the same time. And if that showing-off thing lead to sweet, nekkid man-loving, well, that was just something Andrew would have to put up with. It was a tough deal, being this irresistible!

Which explained why he was now stumbling around one of the many cemeteries in the dark. Darkness was not his friend. After tripping over the third headstone that had been carelessly left in one of the neat rows, and nearly falling into a freshly dug grave, Andrew was beginning to seriously doubt whether this was as good an idea as it had seemed at the time. Why doesn’t the mayor put some funding into properly lit graveyards? That might actually help keep down the population of said graveyards if people could see where they were going.

Eventually locating Spike’s crypt- and pretending he hadn’t already mistakenly wondered into three others (crypts all look the same to those who don’t happen to live in them)- he paused at the door. Do I knock? Is that too formal? Do I just barge in, grab him round the waist and sweep him off his feet, complete with breath-taking kiss? Is that too forward? Do I just stand out here waiting to be vamp food? Hell no! Andrew cautiously pushed the heavy stone door open a few inches, clearing his throat in case Spike was near enough to hear him. Wouldn’t hurt to make my presence known, I guess. It’s probably not a great idea to sneak up on a formerly vicious killer.

The top floor of the crypt was trashed. The chair was tipped over on its side. The television was off its little table, showing snow and the hiss of white noise. Spike’s shirt was shredded on the floor. The sounds of a struggle echoed up from the lower level- Spike’s slightly breathless curses and grunts and gasps. Oh god! Something’s hurting Spike! What do I do?! With only seconds to make a decision, Andrew flung himself the rest of the way through the door, only taking the briefest second to pick up Spike’s tattered shirt and breathe in the masculine scent- mostly spilt drops of Jack Daniels and menthol cigarette smoke. Andrew had tried both in his attempts to be noticed by Spike. Both had made him ill. In front of a certain bleached blonde vampire. But hope still remains! Descending the ladder to the lower level of the crypt, Andrew’s breath caught in his throat.

Spike was kneeling on the bed, legs spread. He had one hand on the mattress, bracing himself, while the other frantically worked his cock. He was cursing a blue streak, some words only making it to the first syllable before being cut off by an urgent groan. Andrew’s jaw dropped. Here was the most beautiful creature on the planet, touching himself. Just for me. And he looks perfect. A perfect, dishevelled, debauched angel, just waiting to be corrupted.

“Oh, fuck! Yeah… yeah, right there! Don’t stop…” Spike’s voice snapped Andrew into action.

“Erm, hey, Spike!” Be cool. Be suave. Be Dalton in The Living Daylights. “Whatcha doin’?”

“What am I…? What the bloody hell does it look like I’m doing?!”

“Oh, right. I, uh, erm…” Spike raised one eyebrow, somehow managing to look unfazed and not like he’d being doing naughty touching. Like he hadn’t been two strokes from blowing his load. “Xander’s invisible.”

“And I care why?”

“I thought you were, uh… I thought you were friends?” Nice going, Andrew. Next time think before nearly admitting to spying on semi-public sex sessions!

“Nope. Now sod off. I have things to take care of.”

Andrew turned to leave as Spike resumed his task. With one foot on the ladder, he looked back over his shoulder. Spike was stroking his flagging erection back to full hardness.

“I could give you a hand, if you want?” Spike’s growl was all the answer it took to have the blonde human scuttling back up the ladder with a startled squeak and away from the fangs and yellow eyes of the vampire on the bed.

Well, at least this way I can put a camera here. Warren will be happy and we can go back to working on making Buffy our willing sex slave. Not that she’d be anywhere near as good as Spike. Maybe we should be working on making Spike our sex slave. Now that’s an idea I could get behind. Or in front of. Or any position really…

With the camera in place, Andrew left, safe in the knowledge that Spike could be watched 24/7 from the comfort of the lair. There was a spring in his step as he wandered back through the cemetery… until he tripped over a headstone.

***

Meanwhile, back in the crypt…

“Ah, fuck, Xan… Don’t stop! Don’t bloody stop!”

“Not gunna stop. Love your ass… So tight. So good. So… So… Oh, FUCK! Spike!” 


Date: 2012-03-13 10:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jujukittychick.livejournal.com
*giggles and claps* love it! poor clueless andrew. great job :D

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