Prompt 359 - Relationships - What the F... Part 12 - BTVS - comlodge

[comlodge.livejournal.com]

Title: Morning After...
Author: comlodge
Charachters: Ensemble
Genre: Fiction, Humour, Angst, Mystery, Magical stuff
Words:
Summary: Set in an AU S6. Someone casts a spell and silliness ensues.   Part 12 of the What the F...? Series. No idea how many parts.
Rating: NC17 for sexual innuendo/misplaced breasts/self gratification/naughty thoughts/actual sexual congress/alluding to actual sexual congress/same sex sex, you know boy on boy, girl on girl/ bad spell chanting
Prompt:   nekid_spike April Spring Fertility Fling  tamingthemuse - relationships
Disclaimer: You know they belong to Joss but he never wrote this stuff.
Previous Parts here. If you don't read the previous parts this won't make sense at all. If you do read the previous parts it probably still won't make sense but I'll have made you look.

Previously on What the F…? Spike and Buffy playing in the bathroom, a lot. Strange demi-gods dancing and chanting. Scoobies sleeping unawares. Willy probably dreaming of the slayer in leather boots and riding crop.

Read on…

Giles groaned himself awake. As awareness seeped into his sleep addled brain, he felt the stiffness of age, joined by fresh bruises and sore muscles. He’d obviously been active sometime last night. He stretched his legs toward the end of the bed and spread his arms across the bed.

“Bloody hell. What the…” He sat up in a rush, looking toward the body lying beside him. The naked body of a young, dark headed male. A body that was also rousing from sleep, stretching muscles, emitting soft groans as it did so. “My god! Xander! What, what are you doing in my bed?”

Xander lifted his head and stared through dull eyes, at the incredulous face of Giles. His eyes tracked down the man’s bare chest, noticing the grey hairs that led down between his nipples, past his belly button to his … Xander jerked away and off the bed in one movement.

“Giles! You’re, you’re… you aren’t dressed!” As he said this Xander looked down at his own body and groaned loudly. “I’m not dressed! You’re, I’m, we’re… Why are we in bed together? With, with no clothes on?”

Giles in the mean time was looking on the bedside chest for his glasses. He found them, went to put them on and realised they were quite grimy. He reached for the edge of the sheet that was hanging off the bed. As he pulled it towards him he caught a scent of, well, sex. The nights exertions came slamming back to him. He felt the blood drain from his face as he remembered what he had done the previous evening and more to the point, who he had done it with.

He looked up into the face of the boy standing at the foot of his bed. Xander was obviously having his own memory recall, if the look on his face and the open mouth were anything to go by.

“Oh my god. We, you, I , Spike… I kissed Spike and his…” Xander dropped to the floor in a dead faint.

“That boy is such a drama queen.” Giles sighed. He looked down at the glasses in his lap and then noticed something had changed from yesterday. He got up from the bed and went to his dresser. He looked at himself in the mirror, running his hands across his chest as he did so. His flat, completely male, chest. “Thank god. No undergarment shopping will be needed after all.”

He turned as he heard Xander groan. The boy was coming out of his faint. He did look decidedly pale though. A quick inspection of his chest showed that he too was returned to the physique of a man. Giles let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He was relieved that whatever spell had been used to alter their physical appearance yesterday, was no longer in effect. At the moment anyway. They would still need to get to the bottom of it though. Obviously some strong magics had been in play and they needed to find out who had been responsible and make sure the mischief was at an end.

Then of course there was the other matter to consider. The three of them, Xander, Spike and himself having sex. Here. On his bed. He could see the vampire under him, legs drawn up and held wide, inviting Giles in. He felt his cock, already waving in its morning ritual, harden as he remembered the smooth, white skin beneath him. Remembered the cool, tight channel, so hard to breach but which had then opened and grasped him, greedily sucking him in. “Bloody hell,” he whispered to himself. He needed the bathroom. He went to the door and took his robe from the hook. As he put it on, he looked down at Xander. The boy was still on the floor, his arm flung across his face. He was mumbling something to himself over and over. Giles left the room and headed down the stairs.

…

Willow opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling above her and a less than comfortable mattress under her. Tara was softly snoring in her arms, her head on Willow’s chest. Willow felt sticky and stiff, like she’d slept in an uncomfortable position all night. She shifted a leg and kicked someone in the face.

“Heh! Watch it!” Anya sat up, angrily pushing the foot away from her. She looked down toward her feet and into the eyes of the red headed girl that was laying beside them. For a moment a look of confusion crossed her face, then as memory returned, a huge grin spread there. Willow lifted her head and looked into that grin and saw…, everything. In her head, she replayed what the two of them had gotten up to, last night. Her mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe what her mind was saying. She was in a committed relationship with Tara and yet she and Anya had been intimate with each other. They’d gone down on each other. She’d pressed her tongue and her fingers into Anya’s… omg and Anya had … into her… She sat up, forgetting that Tara was lying on her.

Tara slipped off Willow onto the mats under them and woke as her head hit the canvas surface. She stretched languidly, her body tingled with the pleasant, achy feel of satiety. She opened her eyes and looked up at her lover. “W-willow? W-what’s w-w-wrong?” Then she noticed Anya sitting at the foot of the bed, no the training room mats, they were lying on. Last night tumbled into her with a jolt and she joined Willow in a mouth open, staring sightlessly, look of astonishment, as the night’s escapades ran through her mind.

…

Giles turned the handle on the bathroom door and pushed it open as he moved forward. The door met with resistance and he banged his nose on it when it abruptly stopped moving. He pushed harder. The door opened half way and he stepped through the opening. He immediately wished he hadn’t. He stood, just inside the bathroom, gaping like an idiot, at the pair on the floor in front of him. Buffy was lying, naked, on top of an also naked Spike! Jealousy slammed through him. It was a visceral thing, curled and weighty in his gut. He staggered under its influence. He tried to tear his eyes from the pair but, like an alcoholic staring at a full bottle, he could only look harder, record the details, torment himself.

Spike’s feet lay either side of Buffy’s much smaller ones, their legs slightly tangled, spread open a little. Her smooth tan skin set off the almost pearlescent, paleness of Spike’s. His eyes traveled up, over the globes of the girl’s ass to Spike’s arms, folded protectively, possessively, around Buffy’s waist. Some information filtering through his brain pulled him back down to Buffy’s bottom. He could see the shadow of Spike’s curly hairs between their legs; see that the vampire was still embedded in his slayer. He could see the sticky residue that covered both their thighs. He wanted to close his eyes. He couldn’t. A strange whimper traveled up his throat and released into the bathroom air. Air that he now realised, was heavy with the smells of sex.

Rage rose in his chest like bile. He dragged his eyes up their bodies. Buffy’s head lay nestled under Spike’s chin, her face turned to the side, eyes closed in slumber. Her long, golden hair splayed out behind her, covering the vampire’s creamy skin. Gile’s eyes were pulled to the side of her neck. She’d been marked. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes moved up toward the vampire’s face. He lay with his head turned to the side and there on the side of his neck, the blood stood out so brightly, on its white canvas. An irregular, bitten mess, framed quite clearly, by the indent of human teeth. Bitten, marked!

Giles stood, staring at them, watching the bodies rise and fall as they breathed. He’d never noticed that Spike breathed so much when he was asleep. He should have been still as a corpse but, like everything else about the vampire, even in sleep he had to be different; he couldn’t conform. As the watcher stood struggling to control himself, to tamp down the emotions roiling through him, he heard a faint noise behind him, then the bathroom light flicked on, framing the scene before him in a stark, unrelenting glare.

“Holy crap!” Xander stumbled back into the room behind him, his eyes burning a picture into his brain, that effectively shoved out, the confusing images of the night before. Giles had instinctively turned toward the presence behind him, saw the look of horror and something else on the boy’s face. He thought his own probably looked something similar. He turned back toward the bathroom floor. The pair laying there, had both woken at the sound of Xander’s voice and were now staring into each other’s eyes. Giles couldn’t see Buffy’s face, of course, but the vampire’s was a picture of rolling emotions.

Surprise, awe, satisfaction, lust all rolled across it. Something else that Giles, didn’t believe, didn’t want to see, even if he did. Love. They stared at each other as Giles stood, staring down at them. Suddenly, Buffy let out a shout and tore herself from the vampire’s arms, springing to her feet in a blink and stood balanced on her toes, staring at the wall in front of her. Spike pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Um, Slayer…” Spike stopped speaking and went back to staring, emotions still chasing each other across his face. There was fear in the mix now. His breathing hitched and stopped as he stared up into Buffy’s face. Then his gaze moved slightly to see Giles standing behind her. His eyes widened, mouth opening just a little, as surprise now opened his face. He scooted up to a sitting position, drew his legs in towards his body, hiding himself. “Watcher… Fancy seeing you here.” He ran his hand through the stark white curls that covered his head.

At that, Buffy whirled around, saw Giles standing behind her and behind him she could see Xander, staring at her, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide, accusing; disbelieving; judging. Her hand flew to her mouth. She looked around the room, leant over and grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall. Wrapping herself in it she turned back to the vampire on the floor, preparing to unleash a tirade in his direction. His chest, his pale, beautiful, muscular chest caught her attention.

“Your, your breasts are gone.” Images of those breasts flashed through her mind as she said this. She remembered sucking them, licking and teasing the nipples with her tongue. She remembered how hard they felt in her mouth, how her tongue tickled against the hard nubs of his aureoles. How he had moaned and arched up into her mouth, all the while running his hands up and down her body, reaching between her legs to tweak and pull at her raised centre.

Spike looked down at his chest, smirked, ran a hand across the returned contours, stopped to pinch a nipple. “Hmmm. Yeah, love, that they have.” She moaned softly to herself as she followed the movements of his hand. He looked up at her again, that smile playing across his lips. That knowing smile. She knew he was scenting her awakening arousal, tasting the memory of the growing wetness between her legs.

“What happened to your neck?” As she said this, scenes from last night began to play across her mind. The growing warmth between her legs died away as she flashed through the things they had done, she had done. He had done! Her hand flew to her neck, came away sticky, with dried flakes of … She lifted her head and her eyes bore into Spikes. His flew open.

“Now, Slayer. It wasn’t, I didn’t… ,you did it too, pet, ah… You bloody bitch! You bit me!”

“You bit me! You bit me you bastard!” She looked around for wood, any wood. Spike jumped to his feet in a sinuous flash of movement, pressed himself back into the wall, balanced, looking around for escape.

“You bit me and you, we… over and … oh god.” She looked up as though an answer to her predicament might be dangling from the light fixture above her. Spike took the opportunity to run past her, banging into Giles as he went through the door, causing the man to hit his head on the door frame. Pain exploded in Spike’s head but he ignored it and pressed on only to slam into the boy, still standing like a stunned mullet, in the kitchen. Another burst of pain lanced through him and he felt the nausea rising in response. He fought it down, continued moving towards escape.

As he reached for the handle of the front door, he grabbed at his coat hanging on the rack beside it. Swirling the leather over him, he threw the door open and dashed out into the bright sunlight. It was a bit of a run to the manhole cover, in the street outside Giles’ flat, but he’d done it before, usually with a few more clothes on. And boots. He felt the flames licking along his feet as he hurled the cover across the street and dropped into the welcoming darkness below.

…