For Whichclothes: Gift Horse
Yes! For the first time since... um, October, I think - I'm posting a mod challenge in the month it was given! Special credit is due whichclothes who wisely gave me a very open-ended request.
She asked for: I'm thinking Spike and Angel, maybe with a little Lindsey thrown in for good measure, and because it's that time of the year, gifts. And, um, maybe voyeurism?
Voyeurism! Gifts! Splindsey! Spangel! Splangel! Also bondage and, er, themed costumes. As usual, not worksafe due to Spike's colorful language and lots of descriptions of male anatomy. NOM.
Gift Horse
When Angel said he had something for Spike up in the suite, Spike, honestly, was hoping it was an Xbox. After all, Angel was loaded these days and it was nearly Christmas and Spike had been dropping the sort of hints so blatant even Angel must have clued in on them.
Instead, what greeted him as he swung merrily off the elevator with visions of Mass Effect II dancing in his head was a bare arse in a red leather harness decorated with jingle-bells. Spike felt like he’d been slapped with a fish, or a sweaty ball sack, perhaps. He stopped dead and gaped. It was a tan, toned, and lovely ass, truly, but for a moment he was too stunned to even work out whose it was.
“Surprise!” said Angel, wearing a red leather Santa suit and holding reins.
That ruled out Angel’s arse, was Spike’s first, albeit unhelpful thought, as he gaped.
Lindsey looked over his shoulder, a bright red ball-gag in his mouth and felt antlers on his head. He winked. The wink was followed by a wiggle of his well displayed backside that set the bells tingling musically.
By the looks on their faces, both Santa and his reindeer were shocked to hear Spike sputter, “What the hell is this?”
Angel scowled. “Your present.”
“My..? Angel, you’ve tied up Lindsey.”
Angel dropped the reins and approached Spike, his chin tucked down. “Baby, you remember what you said, about him and the apartment and, um reins?”
“That was just pillow-talk. This is…” Spike gestured. “What pillock ties up someone ELSE as a present for their lover?”
Lindsey jingled as he tried to escape - staccato, very irate jingles.
“You gave me that choir boy in 1885.”
“We were evil.”
Angel reached for Spike’s cheek. “Baby…”
Spike leaned away. “Yes, angel, using that pet name I despise is getting you off the hook.”
Angel pouted. “So you don’t like him?”
Spike rolled his eyes and paced away from the power of Angel’s adorable pout. “That’s not the point, peaches. You’re sayin’ you’d rather I fuck someone else.”
“I was hoping I could watch.”
“So what you’re saying is, this is really a present for you, innit?”
Angel scowled, sputtered, “But… you had this fantasy…”
Lindsey continued to jingle loudly and rapidly as he tried to struggle out of his bounds, muffled, annoyed sounds coming from behind his gag.
Spike put a hand on Lindsey’s upturned rump and patted him to calm him. “My fantasy with Lindsey involved a sun-baked horse stall and chaps. This…” He was momentarily distracted by the warm, inviting flesh quivering under his hand. He gave it a good slap and Lindsey stilled. Spike leaned over to see Lindsey’s face. “You did ask the cowboy if this was what he wanted?”
Angel’s hands slipped around Spike’s waist from behind, his breath puffed gently against the back of his neck, sending the small hairs rising. “I told him all about your fantasy and he loved it.”
Spike rolled his neck, trying to hold onto his annoyance on top of the thick cloud of lust that was developing. “My fantasy had nothing to do with Christmas. You look like a pedophile in that get-up.”
“Want to sit on my lap, little boy?” Angel’s hand slipped lower, cupping Spike’s bulge.
“Pervert,” Spike groaned, head dropping back against Angel’s shoulder. “You’re not turning me on.” He didn’t even convince himself as he started flexing against Angel’s firm grip.
Lindsey bucked in his harness, his muffled “Eh! Wahahouh EE?” was surprisingly easy to understand.
Angel stepped back, leaving Spike gasping and humping air. He smirked his most Angelus-like smirk. “Yeah, what about Lindsey? Be nice to our guest, William.”
Spike shook his head, realized that little Spike was going to be very sore if he didn’t go along with this “present” idea, and crouched down in front of Lindsey to look him in the eye. “Are you sure about this?”
Lindsey rolled his eyes and tossed his head, nudging Spike like, well, an impatient, trussed-up reindeer.
“Hell,” Spike said, and started unbuckling the gag. As he pulled it free, he glanced at Angel, who had backed up to the wall and was leaning against it with casual nonchalance, one hand passing up and down over the very clear bulge in his tight, conforming leather pants.
Lindsey gasped as the gag came free and muttered, “About time.” He wiped his chin against Spike’s leg. “Come on, I’m cramping up here, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Your sexy talk is just as wonderful as I imagined,” Spike quipped, but he had to admit the needy, steamy look Lindsey was giving him went straight to his cock. Spike stood. “Are you sure you want our first time to be like this? With him watching?”
Angel’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his smirk firmly in place.
In answer, Lindsey tried to grab the tab of Spike’s zipper with his teeth. Metal clacked against tooth, and saliva dampened denim so that every hot puff of breath was transferred straight through.
“Fucking hell,” Spike murmered, and undid the top button with a flick of his thumb, giving Lindsey all the help he needed. Lindsey burrowed with his face, separating Spike’s fly and then hot, wet lips were enveloping his cock. Spike’s knees flexed involuntarily and he heard a hitched breath from Angel. Lindsey was enthusiastic and sloppy, teeth dragging hard over the plumy head as he turned from one side to another. Felt antleirs wapped against Spike’s stomach, catching on the fabric of his T-shirt. He tore them off Lindsey’s head and was rewarded with a deep-throated chuckle vibrating against his most sensitive parts. He felt the pleasure building overwhelmingly, like his whole body wanted to squeeze down into that wicked mouth. He pulled back, hands on Lindsey’s shoulders. “Fuck… gonna cum.”
“That’s the idea,” Lindsey replied hoarsely. His lips were puffy and glistening.
Spike bent and kissed him deeply, exploring that wicked tongue with his own, feeling the taste of whiskey, rubber, saliva and himself. They made messy wet smacking noises together. Spike gasped for breath. “Fuck if I’m letting this charming harness go to waste.” He slapped the line of jingle bells going down Lindsey’s shoulder and laughed, stumbling a bit - his jeans were hanging low around his thighs now - as he moved to the other side of Lindsey.
His hand slid down one firm, muscular flank to a firm cheek and his fingers teased along the velvety crack until they touched something slick. Spike smirked. “All prepped, are you? Did Angel do that?”
Lindsey shivered, dozens of sleigh-bells chiming in sympathy. Spike gave him a slap, and again the bells rang. “And who thought Christmas was a turn-on?”
Angel looked a few seconds away from taking matters into his own hands, and only answered with a low growl that Lindsey likely could only sense by the answering shiver in Spike.
Spike slipped a finger into Lindsey and felt the muscle tighten around him, sucking him further in. He twisted and stroked the spongy soft wall. Lindsey pushed back.
Angel had his dick out, looking enormous and hot against the dark red leather of his trousers. His eyes were locked on Spike.
“Yeah,” Lindsey grunted, “Fuck. Like that. More.”
“Demanding bitch, aren’t you?” Spike waggled his hips, letting his cock slap playfully against Lindsey’s ass.
“Quick dicking around and fuck me!”
Spike took a step back, admiring the way Lindsey flexed and strained against his bonds. The skin was white and welted against the edge of the red leather straps. Spike pulled his t-shirt off and toed off his docs.
When he was properly naked - and Spike always enjoyed being naked - he siddled up to Lindsey and leaned down over his back, enjoying the feel of flesh against flesh. “Want me to pound you into that chair you’re straddling, cowboy? Make you feel it straight through to your teeth?”
Lindsey’s back undulated as he tried to rub himself against Spike, pushing sweat and leather up and down against him. “Fuck, yeah. Love it when you talk dirty.”
“Do you love how my cock is sliding in your sweat? Trying to find its way in? Because I love the way you’re bucking like a horse in heat trying to help it along.”
Leather creaked as Lindsey writhed and Spike stroked his whole body up and down his back, luxuriating in the frustration and control. When Lindsey started rocking rhythmically and chanting, “Please, please, please,” he decided to take pity on him. Spike passed his hand between their bodies, probing Lindsey’s opening with two, then three fingers, checking perhaps a bit longer than necessary that he was fully prepped, then guided his cock home.
Spike’s eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation - so hot and tight. He wrapped his arms around Lindsey’s middle, felt his chest expand with breath and then relax. Holding on tight, eyes still closed, Spike flexed his hips, dragging himself almost all the way back out and then slamming home again.
There was then no willpower in the world that could stop him from doing it again, and again, and then he was no longer hearing the jingling bells or the creaking complaints of Angel’s sturdily-built office chair. All he could hear were the gasps and pleas falling from Lindsey’s lips and his own as his hands caressed and grabbed and slapped and their bodies met with force and pliancy. It was like they already knew each motion the other was going to make, rising and falling into each other.
And then a heavy weight of horny vampire fell against Spike’s back, fangs dragging along his throat. That was all the warning he got before a leather-clad knee was knocking his thighs further apart and rough fingers were lifting his ass-cheeks.
“Angelus… Gah!” Spike was split open, the cold pain of dry penetration spreading through his veins as he clung to Lindsey.
“You stopped looking at me,” Angel supplied, and then thrust again, setting a punishing pace. Spike tried to turn, but Angel grabbed his elbow and slammed him down into Lindsey.
It hurt like hell and softened his dick, but Angel was pushing him into Lindsey regularly and pull and pushing and the pain smoothed out and the pleasure started mounting again. Spike started getting annoyed with Angel’s controlling hands that repositioned him every time he tried to make the angle better for himself, so he started thrusting back hard and elbowing Angel when he’d reach for his wrist.
“Ow! Oof!” Lindsey twisted, trying to see behind him. “What are you guys…”
That’s when the chair broke.
***
“So, if this was MY present,” Spike asked, lounging between two spent lovers in the obliterated remains of office furniture, “why didn’t you do the fantasy the way I told it?”
Lindsey snorted. “That was way the fuck too wholesome for Perv-gelus here.”
He and Spike shared a smirk and a cuddle - though they would both deny the cuddle later.
“Hey!” Angel propped himself up on one elbow. “I thought it went great.”
“There’s only one problem,” Spike sighed, and kissed Angel’s sweat-damp forehead.
“Hm?” Angel asked sleepily.
“Well, you’ve completely ruined my idea for YOUR present.”
END
She asked for: I'm thinking Spike and Angel, maybe with a little Lindsey thrown in for good measure, and because it's that time of the year, gifts. And, um, maybe voyeurism?
Voyeurism! Gifts! Splindsey! Spangel! Splangel! Also bondage and, er, themed costumes. As usual, not worksafe due to Spike's colorful language and lots of descriptions of male anatomy. NOM.
Gift Horse
When Angel said he had something for Spike up in the suite, Spike, honestly, was hoping it was an Xbox. After all, Angel was loaded these days and it was nearly Christmas and Spike had been dropping the sort of hints so blatant even Angel must have clued in on them.
Instead, what greeted him as he swung merrily off the elevator with visions of Mass Effect II dancing in his head was a bare arse in a red leather harness decorated with jingle-bells. Spike felt like he’d been slapped with a fish, or a sweaty ball sack, perhaps. He stopped dead and gaped. It was a tan, toned, and lovely ass, truly, but for a moment he was too stunned to even work out whose it was.
“Surprise!” said Angel, wearing a red leather Santa suit and holding reins.
That ruled out Angel’s arse, was Spike’s first, albeit unhelpful thought, as he gaped.
Lindsey looked over his shoulder, a bright red ball-gag in his mouth and felt antlers on his head. He winked. The wink was followed by a wiggle of his well displayed backside that set the bells tingling musically.
By the looks on their faces, both Santa and his reindeer were shocked to hear Spike sputter, “What the hell is this?”
Angel scowled. “Your present.”
“My..? Angel, you’ve tied up Lindsey.”
Angel dropped the reins and approached Spike, his chin tucked down. “Baby, you remember what you said, about him and the apartment and, um reins?”
“That was just pillow-talk. This is…” Spike gestured. “What pillock ties up someone ELSE as a present for their lover?”
Lindsey jingled as he tried to escape - staccato, very irate jingles.
“You gave me that choir boy in 1885.”
“We were evil.”
Angel reached for Spike’s cheek. “Baby…”
Spike leaned away. “Yes, angel, using that pet name I despise is getting you off the hook.”
Angel pouted. “So you don’t like him?”
Spike rolled his eyes and paced away from the power of Angel’s adorable pout. “That’s not the point, peaches. You’re sayin’ you’d rather I fuck someone else.”
“I was hoping I could watch.”
“So what you’re saying is, this is really a present for you, innit?”
Angel scowled, sputtered, “But… you had this fantasy…”
Lindsey continued to jingle loudly and rapidly as he tried to struggle out of his bounds, muffled, annoyed sounds coming from behind his gag.
Spike put a hand on Lindsey’s upturned rump and patted him to calm him. “My fantasy with Lindsey involved a sun-baked horse stall and chaps. This…” He was momentarily distracted by the warm, inviting flesh quivering under his hand. He gave it a good slap and Lindsey stilled. Spike leaned over to see Lindsey’s face. “You did ask the cowboy if this was what he wanted?”
Angel’s hands slipped around Spike’s waist from behind, his breath puffed gently against the back of his neck, sending the small hairs rising. “I told him all about your fantasy and he loved it.”
Spike rolled his neck, trying to hold onto his annoyance on top of the thick cloud of lust that was developing. “My fantasy had nothing to do with Christmas. You look like a pedophile in that get-up.”
“Want to sit on my lap, little boy?” Angel’s hand slipped lower, cupping Spike’s bulge.
“Pervert,” Spike groaned, head dropping back against Angel’s shoulder. “You’re not turning me on.” He didn’t even convince himself as he started flexing against Angel’s firm grip.
Lindsey bucked in his harness, his muffled “Eh! Wahahouh EE?” was surprisingly easy to understand.
Angel stepped back, leaving Spike gasping and humping air. He smirked his most Angelus-like smirk. “Yeah, what about Lindsey? Be nice to our guest, William.”
Spike shook his head, realized that little Spike was going to be very sore if he didn’t go along with this “present” idea, and crouched down in front of Lindsey to look him in the eye. “Are you sure about this?”
Lindsey rolled his eyes and tossed his head, nudging Spike like, well, an impatient, trussed-up reindeer.
“Hell,” Spike said, and started unbuckling the gag. As he pulled it free, he glanced at Angel, who had backed up to the wall and was leaning against it with casual nonchalance, one hand passing up and down over the very clear bulge in his tight, conforming leather pants.
Lindsey gasped as the gag came free and muttered, “About time.” He wiped his chin against Spike’s leg. “Come on, I’m cramping up here, let’s get this show on the road.”
“Your sexy talk is just as wonderful as I imagined,” Spike quipped, but he had to admit the needy, steamy look Lindsey was giving him went straight to his cock. Spike stood. “Are you sure you want our first time to be like this? With him watching?”
Angel’s eyes were heavy-lidded, his smirk firmly in place.
In answer, Lindsey tried to grab the tab of Spike’s zipper with his teeth. Metal clacked against tooth, and saliva dampened denim so that every hot puff of breath was transferred straight through.
“Fucking hell,” Spike murmered, and undid the top button with a flick of his thumb, giving Lindsey all the help he needed. Lindsey burrowed with his face, separating Spike’s fly and then hot, wet lips were enveloping his cock. Spike’s knees flexed involuntarily and he heard a hitched breath from Angel. Lindsey was enthusiastic and sloppy, teeth dragging hard over the plumy head as he turned from one side to another. Felt antleirs wapped against Spike’s stomach, catching on the fabric of his T-shirt. He tore them off Lindsey’s head and was rewarded with a deep-throated chuckle vibrating against his most sensitive parts. He felt the pleasure building overwhelmingly, like his whole body wanted to squeeze down into that wicked mouth. He pulled back, hands on Lindsey’s shoulders. “Fuck… gonna cum.”
“That’s the idea,” Lindsey replied hoarsely. His lips were puffy and glistening.
Spike bent and kissed him deeply, exploring that wicked tongue with his own, feeling the taste of whiskey, rubber, saliva and himself. They made messy wet smacking noises together. Spike gasped for breath. “Fuck if I’m letting this charming harness go to waste.” He slapped the line of jingle bells going down Lindsey’s shoulder and laughed, stumbling a bit - his jeans were hanging low around his thighs now - as he moved to the other side of Lindsey.
His hand slid down one firm, muscular flank to a firm cheek and his fingers teased along the velvety crack until they touched something slick. Spike smirked. “All prepped, are you? Did Angel do that?”
Lindsey shivered, dozens of sleigh-bells chiming in sympathy. Spike gave him a slap, and again the bells rang. “And who thought Christmas was a turn-on?”
Angel looked a few seconds away from taking matters into his own hands, and only answered with a low growl that Lindsey likely could only sense by the answering shiver in Spike.
Spike slipped a finger into Lindsey and felt the muscle tighten around him, sucking him further in. He twisted and stroked the spongy soft wall. Lindsey pushed back.
Angel had his dick out, looking enormous and hot against the dark red leather of his trousers. His eyes were locked on Spike.
“Yeah,” Lindsey grunted, “Fuck. Like that. More.”
“Demanding bitch, aren’t you?” Spike waggled his hips, letting his cock slap playfully against Lindsey’s ass.
“Quick dicking around and fuck me!”
Spike took a step back, admiring the way Lindsey flexed and strained against his bonds. The skin was white and welted against the edge of the red leather straps. Spike pulled his t-shirt off and toed off his docs.
When he was properly naked - and Spike always enjoyed being naked - he siddled up to Lindsey and leaned down over his back, enjoying the feel of flesh against flesh. “Want me to pound you into that chair you’re straddling, cowboy? Make you feel it straight through to your teeth?”
Lindsey’s back undulated as he tried to rub himself against Spike, pushing sweat and leather up and down against him. “Fuck, yeah. Love it when you talk dirty.”
“Do you love how my cock is sliding in your sweat? Trying to find its way in? Because I love the way you’re bucking like a horse in heat trying to help it along.”
Leather creaked as Lindsey writhed and Spike stroked his whole body up and down his back, luxuriating in the frustration and control. When Lindsey started rocking rhythmically and chanting, “Please, please, please,” he decided to take pity on him. Spike passed his hand between their bodies, probing Lindsey’s opening with two, then three fingers, checking perhaps a bit longer than necessary that he was fully prepped, then guided his cock home.
Spike’s eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation - so hot and tight. He wrapped his arms around Lindsey’s middle, felt his chest expand with breath and then relax. Holding on tight, eyes still closed, Spike flexed his hips, dragging himself almost all the way back out and then slamming home again.
There was then no willpower in the world that could stop him from doing it again, and again, and then he was no longer hearing the jingling bells or the creaking complaints of Angel’s sturdily-built office chair. All he could hear were the gasps and pleas falling from Lindsey’s lips and his own as his hands caressed and grabbed and slapped and their bodies met with force and pliancy. It was like they already knew each motion the other was going to make, rising and falling into each other.
And then a heavy weight of horny vampire fell against Spike’s back, fangs dragging along his throat. That was all the warning he got before a leather-clad knee was knocking his thighs further apart and rough fingers were lifting his ass-cheeks.
“Angelus… Gah!” Spike was split open, the cold pain of dry penetration spreading through his veins as he clung to Lindsey.
“You stopped looking at me,” Angel supplied, and then thrust again, setting a punishing pace. Spike tried to turn, but Angel grabbed his elbow and slammed him down into Lindsey.
It hurt like hell and softened his dick, but Angel was pushing him into Lindsey regularly and pull and pushing and the pain smoothed out and the pleasure started mounting again. Spike started getting annoyed with Angel’s controlling hands that repositioned him every time he tried to make the angle better for himself, so he started thrusting back hard and elbowing Angel when he’d reach for his wrist.
“Ow! Oof!” Lindsey twisted, trying to see behind him. “What are you guys…”
That’s when the chair broke.
***
“So, if this was MY present,” Spike asked, lounging between two spent lovers in the obliterated remains of office furniture, “why didn’t you do the fantasy the way I told it?”
Lindsey snorted. “That was way the fuck too wholesome for Perv-gelus here.”
He and Spike shared a smirk and a cuddle - though they would both deny the cuddle later.
“Hey!” Angel propped himself up on one elbow. “I thought it went great.”
“There’s only one problem,” Spike sighed, and kissed Angel’s sweat-damp forehead.
“Hm?” Angel asked sleepily.
“Well, you’ve completely ruined my idea for YOUR present.”
END