FIC: Naughty Nick and the Evil Elf (6/6)-- Spilliam/X-- NC-17 overall
This is the final part of this holiday offering which is my pressie for my day at noel_of_spike.
Hope you guys enjoyed it and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Disclaimers and such in part 1.
* * * * * * * * *
PART 6
Xander woke up sore and aching, though the pounding in his head was the worst of it, to be honest.
He felt like he’d climbed a mountain, swum a river, hiked the length and breadth of the entire state… and if he’d had a machete handy he would have cut off his own head in the hopes that death would make it stop pounding.
He groaned and pushed himself slowly up from the coffee table, which had apparently seemed like a good place to sleep because that was where he’d woken up.
“Urrrgh…” he moaned quietly, letting himself fall back against the couch.
It was only when his ass met the floor that he yelped and realized that maybe there was a reason for the soreness he was experiencing. A reason other than drinking far too much in far too little time.
“Right,” he muttered after thinking as hard as he could in his state, “there was porn. Porn with… guys?”
No, that couldn’t be right.
He wasn’t gay! Two guys fucking each other would have made him sick, not hot!
Right…?
God, he wasn’t in any condition to be having this conversation with himself!
But still…
He remembered watching the porn.
He thought he might even remember jacking off to it.
Then there’d been some weird-ass dream about Anya using that strap-on of hers-the same one that had broken them up, in the end.
’You like my fake penises more than you like putting your REAL penis in ME, Xander! And while I am not averse to orgasming from the vaginal plug inside the harness, it’s rarely as satisfying as feeling you inside me!’
And hadn’t that been a fun talk. In the sense of being not fun at all; especially with those words being nearly shouted at him in the Hospital while they’d all been getting patched up after what had happened on that Tower with Dawn, and Buffy dying and…
But he was tangent-ing.
Weird-ass dream. Anya.
And for some reason, Spike’s voice… and another voice. Similar but… different, too.
Gah, he was way too hungover to deal with this.
Okay. Simple steps. Avoid freaking.
Clerk recommended something he should have questioned.
He’d watched it.
He’d been drunk and maybe any sex had looked good… or maybe he’d blacked out before the boobies, which was just as likely.
He’d fallen asleep and had that strange Anya-dream… and obviously, he’d woken at some point to shove the plug up his ass.
Maybe he just missed his ex. She’d been the one who’d talked him into letting her use the harness on him, after all, although he had to admit that she hadn’t seemed to enjoy it much when he’d tried to show her why he liked it so much.
Then again, women didn’t have prostates, so maybe that explained it.
And so what if he’d asked her to fuck his ass more often than not?
So what if he’d gotten her to buy the butt plugs so he could have one inside him, shifting back and forth while he fucked her?
That didn’t make him...
“Oh, God. I’m gay.”
He had told Buffy that time that Spike was compact and well-muscled, and maybe that was why the bleached menace’s voice had been in his dream.
“Oh, God… God, no… I do not want Spike! I can’t! And… and Spike’s straight, anyway! I mean… Dru! And Harmony, of all creatures of the barely twilight!”
And shouting at himself was making his head hurt even worse… not to mention the fact that his ass was hurting too because… for some reason he wasn’t going to examine too closely, every time he’d thought of Spike, he’d rocked against the floor beneath him and the couch behind him, and the plug had shifted, and…
“God, I am so gay…”
He figured that might bother him more later, but right then…
Right then he needed Advil and large quantities of water… maybe some Vitamin C, and definitely a shower.
First, though, he needed to get the butt plug out of his ass.
Yeah, that was priority number one.
* * * * *
Hours later, after he was bathed, dressed, medicated, and had drank enough water to possibly float a small battalion of battleships-his ass thankfully unfull of his latest bestest bud-Xander still wasn’t quite freaking out.
In fact, the more he considered the facts of his life, the less freaked he became until finally at close to seven o’clock-PM because God knew he’d never really been an ‘early morning’ kind of guy, and especially when it was a holiday and he didn’t have to work-he just accepted it.
Oh, he still liked the boobies; there was no question about that.
Boobies, women, their… special girly-parts. Yeah, he liked those all just fine. More than fine, really.
He just… liked having something in his ass more.
He’d had any number of different items in there, after all.
Plugs, dildos… various sizes and shapes, and… yeah. Enough mental exploration regarding his ass for the Xan-man.
But he kind of thought he liked having his cock in asses, too.
Granted, the only ass he’d ever been in had belonged to Anya, but it had felt… amazing.
Hard but yielding, once he’d spent enough time making it ready… so tight around him when he’d finally made his way in…
He’d loved the feeling but Anya hadn’t been nearly as gung-ho.
Oh, she’d had her treasured orgasms, but she’d made no pretense about preferring his cock in the usual hole, regardless of what he’d wanted.
Yeah, they’d been doomed from the start. He knew that now. Because… apparently, Larry had been right and Xander was a great big fag.
Of course, he couldn’t be entirely sure. Not without trying it out first, anyway.
Maybe he just liked having things up him, after all. Maybe it wasn’t even about guys.
Fortunately, he was pretty sure he knew just how to find out.
He picked up the phone, his face-whole body, probably-bright red even as he dialed.
“Um… hey, Tara, it’s Xander,” he mumbled, then “No! No, I uh… don’t get Wills, okay? I… I kinda wanted to talk to you. Can we, um… meet? I’ll buy you lun… uh, dinner.”
* * * * *
He had a date.
He not only had a date, but he had a date with a guy!
Somehow, that fact had him freaking even more than he’d thought he’d have been freaked over the realization of his own inclinations.
And since when had he been the kind of guy to even think the word ‘inclinations’?
Well, maybe it was because he was gay now… and pretty much the whole gang knew it because Tara had told Willow and Willow… well, enough said.
Buffy still wasn’t really herself and had simply shrugged and gone back to the training room to beat the merry hell out of the dummy he’d made for her way back when.
Willow had given him that ‘how could you not tell me first look’ but… once he’d explained-carefully-that her sort of gay man wasn’t his sort of gay man, she’d understood… sort of. She’d always been more drawn to the… obvious kind, after all, unlike Tara who’d apparently figured gay was gay and screw it if someone didn’t fit the mold.
Not that there was anything wrong with Willow’s view, of course.
Hell, Xander figured she was just more comfortable with guys who were sort of… feminine.
Dawn, of course, had given him a betrayed look when she’d found out… but less than an hour later she’d been right there beside him, asking him if he’d be coming to her next slumber party with Buffy, Willow and Janice… and when he’d said ‘maybe’, she’d lit up.
He was clearly going to be a guest at yet another girly slumber party, only this time he’d be expected to talk about boys, God help him.
Giles, unlike the girls, had simply given him a look.
It was the sort of look that seemed to imply annoyance and a certain degree of impatience… and when Xander had asked him about it, the response he’d gotten had been less than satisfactory for his swiftly fading sense of masculinity.
“Really, Xander. You expected me to be surprised? You spend your free time almost exclusively with young women. You wear those… shirts, if one can call them that. You are far too concerned about the girls and their lives, and far too unconcerned about your American football, not to mention other sports.”
The going-on-middle-aged Englishman had frowned then.
“Honestly, it amazes me that even you considered yourself heterosexual before today. Now, would you mind returning to the tomes you’ve abandoned? We do have a demon to contend with.”
And none of that had him as freaked as the idea that he was going on a date… for New Year’s Eve… with a GUY!
He was still sitting in his usual spot at the table when Spike decided to make an appearance and while a small part of him insisted upon remembering the vampire’s voice in the dream he’d had, the rest of him was entirely too flustered at the idea of a man-date to react.
Instead, he simply buried his nose farther in the book and tried not to die as his mind echoed ‘date-date with a man… a man you don’t know…’
He didn’t even look up for long enough to catch the baffled look on Spike’s face, he was so jittery inside his skin.
* * * * *
“Boy doesn’t remember,” Spike snarled as he stomped into the house. He growled deeply, careening from one room to the next until he found Will in the library. “Did you hear me, mate? Boy doesn’t bloody remember! Looked right at me an’ didn’t so much as stammer!”
William’s eyes widened for a moment; then he shrugged. “One must assume that to be due to the copious amounts of alcohol in his system, dearest. And while that does perhaps put a bit of a damper on our plan to repeat the encounter soon, it by no means changes that plan. We will simply have to… seduce him.” A smug smile crossed his lips. “Or are you implying that he will be able to resist us?”
The blonder of the two men groaned and dropped into the matching chair beside his brother’s. “I’m implyin’,” he grated, “that th’ bloke’s decided he’s gay… and the Witches set him up with some other bloke they know. Not that they said as much, but I’m good with the eavesdroppin’, yah?” Spike frowned.
“Perhaps we should simply leave it at that, then, dearest,” William offered, entirely sure of the reaction that particular suggestion would earn him. “We can always find another toy, yes?” A sly smirk was carefully hidden then.
They’d decided on the boy, after all, and there was likely no chance at all that his twin would give up. Not until they’d had their fill of young Xander Harris, in any case. And neither would William. Their boy had been entirely too… responsive to let go of until they’d tired of him, which they hadn’t… yet.
And just like that, Spike was up and moving again. “Piss off, tosser! We’re th’ ones what made him gay! Should be us reapin’ th’ benefits! Not some random wanker what can’t find his own boy! Just means we need ta… change th’ plan a bit, yah? An’ without th’ bleedin’ magic holdin’ us back, we can hurt him if we have ta. Torture him ‘til he begs us ta shag him again, right?”
Bloody hell. He loved Spike. He truly did, but… “Yesss… because that worked so very well when you went haring off after Drusilla, did it not?” William snorted. “No, beloved… I believe a bit more finesse is in order. Allow me the luxury of a few moments and I’m certain that we’ll discover a solution to our little… problem.”
It was the truly wicked look on William’s face that had Spike calming down enough to sit again.
After all, every time his twin had worn that expression, things had gone exactly as the darker blond planned.
This time wouldn’t be any different.
* * * * *
Xander sighed softly as he walked into his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.
He still wasn’t sure about his date with Tara’s friend Rob. New Year’s Eve seemed more like a couple-y kind of thing; not like a first-date one.
Of course, it was still five days away, so maybe he’d be able to talk himself into just going with it.
He kind of thought he might, too, because the dreams he’d had the night before had been… well, hot wasn’t actually a strong enough word.
It had almost been a repeat of the Christmas Eve dream, except in it, he’d known it wasn’t Anya behind him, filling him so perfectly… and he’d known there was a second person there, enjoying his mouth at the same time.
The main difference, of course, was that he’d woken in his bed without a plug or anything else in his ass.
He’d been hard and throbbing and nearly desperate, though, and the idea of one of the old dildos had been incredibly appealing.
So for the second time in as many days, Xander had found himself waking up with silicone stretching him wide because the orgasm he’d experienced when he’d slammed it into his own ass had been so strong, so fucking overwhelming that he’d passed out.
He was kinda afraid that by the time Rob showed up for their date, he’d be so fucking anxious for the real thing that he’d just tackle the guy and have at him, but…
“God, I can not go out with this guy! Jesus, he’s gonna think I’m some kinda slut!”
That didn’t stop him from stripping naked and gathering his supplies before settling on the couch, though… and when everything was arranged the way he wanted it-lube beside him on the cushions and three different sizes of dildos, as well-he turned on the TV and DVD player with his handy universal remote.
“Okay, guys,” he murmured over the opening credits, “show me what you’ve got…”
He was so gonna have to buy a copy of this movie. His new Christmas movie.
After all, if he hadn’t seen it, he’d still be living in denial, afraid to even open the one small box Anya had left behind, much less use any of the items inside it.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a crappy Christmas, after all, he told himself, not noticing even slightly as yet another tiny bit of nearly invisible glittery glow sank into his skin.
In fact, all he did notice was… he suddenly hoped he really did have the dream again later. And that this time he would see who he was with because while whoever the guys were couldn’t possibly be that good in real life, it would be nice to have faces to picture when he wasn’t dreaming.
~End… for now.
Hope you guys enjoyed it and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Disclaimers and such in part 1.
* * * * * * * * *
PART 6
Xander woke up sore and aching, though the pounding in his head was the worst of it, to be honest.
He felt like he’d climbed a mountain, swum a river, hiked the length and breadth of the entire state… and if he’d had a machete handy he would have cut off his own head in the hopes that death would make it stop pounding.
He groaned and pushed himself slowly up from the coffee table, which had apparently seemed like a good place to sleep because that was where he’d woken up.
“Urrrgh…” he moaned quietly, letting himself fall back against the couch.
It was only when his ass met the floor that he yelped and realized that maybe there was a reason for the soreness he was experiencing. A reason other than drinking far too much in far too little time.
“Right,” he muttered after thinking as hard as he could in his state, “there was porn. Porn with… guys?”
No, that couldn’t be right.
He wasn’t gay! Two guys fucking each other would have made him sick, not hot!
Right…?
God, he wasn’t in any condition to be having this conversation with himself!
But still…
He remembered watching the porn.
He thought he might even remember jacking off to it.
Then there’d been some weird-ass dream about Anya using that strap-on of hers-the same one that had broken them up, in the end.
’You like my fake penises more than you like putting your REAL penis in ME, Xander! And while I am not averse to orgasming from the vaginal plug inside the harness, it’s rarely as satisfying as feeling you inside me!’
And hadn’t that been a fun talk. In the sense of being not fun at all; especially with those words being nearly shouted at him in the Hospital while they’d all been getting patched up after what had happened on that Tower with Dawn, and Buffy dying and…
But he was tangent-ing.
Weird-ass dream. Anya.
And for some reason, Spike’s voice… and another voice. Similar but… different, too.
Gah, he was way too hungover to deal with this.
Okay. Simple steps. Avoid freaking.
Clerk recommended something he should have questioned.
He’d watched it.
He’d been drunk and maybe any sex had looked good… or maybe he’d blacked out before the boobies, which was just as likely.
He’d fallen asleep and had that strange Anya-dream… and obviously, he’d woken at some point to shove the plug up his ass.
Maybe he just missed his ex. She’d been the one who’d talked him into letting her use the harness on him, after all, although he had to admit that she hadn’t seemed to enjoy it much when he’d tried to show her why he liked it so much.
Then again, women didn’t have prostates, so maybe that explained it.
And so what if he’d asked her to fuck his ass more often than not?
So what if he’d gotten her to buy the butt plugs so he could have one inside him, shifting back and forth while he fucked her?
That didn’t make him...
“Oh, God. I’m gay.”
He had told Buffy that time that Spike was compact and well-muscled, and maybe that was why the bleached menace’s voice had been in his dream.
“Oh, God… God, no… I do not want Spike! I can’t! And… and Spike’s straight, anyway! I mean… Dru! And Harmony, of all creatures of the barely twilight!”
And shouting at himself was making his head hurt even worse… not to mention the fact that his ass was hurting too because… for some reason he wasn’t going to examine too closely, every time he’d thought of Spike, he’d rocked against the floor beneath him and the couch behind him, and the plug had shifted, and…
“God, I am so gay…”
He figured that might bother him more later, but right then…
Right then he needed Advil and large quantities of water… maybe some Vitamin C, and definitely a shower.
First, though, he needed to get the butt plug out of his ass.
Yeah, that was priority number one.
* * * * *
Hours later, after he was bathed, dressed, medicated, and had drank enough water to possibly float a small battalion of battleships-his ass thankfully unfull of his latest bestest bud-Xander still wasn’t quite freaking out.
In fact, the more he considered the facts of his life, the less freaked he became until finally at close to seven o’clock-PM because God knew he’d never really been an ‘early morning’ kind of guy, and especially when it was a holiday and he didn’t have to work-he just accepted it.
Oh, he still liked the boobies; there was no question about that.
Boobies, women, their… special girly-parts. Yeah, he liked those all just fine. More than fine, really.
He just… liked having something in his ass more.
He’d had any number of different items in there, after all.
Plugs, dildos… various sizes and shapes, and… yeah. Enough mental exploration regarding his ass for the Xan-man.
But he kind of thought he liked having his cock in asses, too.
Granted, the only ass he’d ever been in had belonged to Anya, but it had felt… amazing.
Hard but yielding, once he’d spent enough time making it ready… so tight around him when he’d finally made his way in…
He’d loved the feeling but Anya hadn’t been nearly as gung-ho.
Oh, she’d had her treasured orgasms, but she’d made no pretense about preferring his cock in the usual hole, regardless of what he’d wanted.
Yeah, they’d been doomed from the start. He knew that now. Because… apparently, Larry had been right and Xander was a great big fag.
Of course, he couldn’t be entirely sure. Not without trying it out first, anyway.
Maybe he just liked having things up him, after all. Maybe it wasn’t even about guys.
Fortunately, he was pretty sure he knew just how to find out.
He picked up the phone, his face-whole body, probably-bright red even as he dialed.
“Um… hey, Tara, it’s Xander,” he mumbled, then “No! No, I uh… don’t get Wills, okay? I… I kinda wanted to talk to you. Can we, um… meet? I’ll buy you lun… uh, dinner.”
* * * * *
He had a date.
He not only had a date, but he had a date with a guy!
Somehow, that fact had him freaking even more than he’d thought he’d have been freaked over the realization of his own inclinations.
And since when had he been the kind of guy to even think the word ‘inclinations’?
Well, maybe it was because he was gay now… and pretty much the whole gang knew it because Tara had told Willow and Willow… well, enough said.
Buffy still wasn’t really herself and had simply shrugged and gone back to the training room to beat the merry hell out of the dummy he’d made for her way back when.
Willow had given him that ‘how could you not tell me first look’ but… once he’d explained-carefully-that her sort of gay man wasn’t his sort of gay man, she’d understood… sort of. She’d always been more drawn to the… obvious kind, after all, unlike Tara who’d apparently figured gay was gay and screw it if someone didn’t fit the mold.
Not that there was anything wrong with Willow’s view, of course.
Hell, Xander figured she was just more comfortable with guys who were sort of… feminine.
Dawn, of course, had given him a betrayed look when she’d found out… but less than an hour later she’d been right there beside him, asking him if he’d be coming to her next slumber party with Buffy, Willow and Janice… and when he’d said ‘maybe’, she’d lit up.
He was clearly going to be a guest at yet another girly slumber party, only this time he’d be expected to talk about boys, God help him.
Giles, unlike the girls, had simply given him a look.
It was the sort of look that seemed to imply annoyance and a certain degree of impatience… and when Xander had asked him about it, the response he’d gotten had been less than satisfactory for his swiftly fading sense of masculinity.
“Really, Xander. You expected me to be surprised? You spend your free time almost exclusively with young women. You wear those… shirts, if one can call them that. You are far too concerned about the girls and their lives, and far too unconcerned about your American football, not to mention other sports.”
The going-on-middle-aged Englishman had frowned then.
“Honestly, it amazes me that even you considered yourself heterosexual before today. Now, would you mind returning to the tomes you’ve abandoned? We do have a demon to contend with.”
And none of that had him as freaked as the idea that he was going on a date… for New Year’s Eve… with a GUY!
He was still sitting in his usual spot at the table when Spike decided to make an appearance and while a small part of him insisted upon remembering the vampire’s voice in the dream he’d had, the rest of him was entirely too flustered at the idea of a man-date to react.
Instead, he simply buried his nose farther in the book and tried not to die as his mind echoed ‘date-date with a man… a man you don’t know…’
He didn’t even look up for long enough to catch the baffled look on Spike’s face, he was so jittery inside his skin.
* * * * *
“Boy doesn’t remember,” Spike snarled as he stomped into the house. He growled deeply, careening from one room to the next until he found Will in the library. “Did you hear me, mate? Boy doesn’t bloody remember! Looked right at me an’ didn’t so much as stammer!”
William’s eyes widened for a moment; then he shrugged. “One must assume that to be due to the copious amounts of alcohol in his system, dearest. And while that does perhaps put a bit of a damper on our plan to repeat the encounter soon, it by no means changes that plan. We will simply have to… seduce him.” A smug smile crossed his lips. “Or are you implying that he will be able to resist us?”
The blonder of the two men groaned and dropped into the matching chair beside his brother’s. “I’m implyin’,” he grated, “that th’ bloke’s decided he’s gay… and the Witches set him up with some other bloke they know. Not that they said as much, but I’m good with the eavesdroppin’, yah?” Spike frowned.
“Perhaps we should simply leave it at that, then, dearest,” William offered, entirely sure of the reaction that particular suggestion would earn him. “We can always find another toy, yes?” A sly smirk was carefully hidden then.
They’d decided on the boy, after all, and there was likely no chance at all that his twin would give up. Not until they’d had their fill of young Xander Harris, in any case. And neither would William. Their boy had been entirely too… responsive to let go of until they’d tired of him, which they hadn’t… yet.
And just like that, Spike was up and moving again. “Piss off, tosser! We’re th’ ones what made him gay! Should be us reapin’ th’ benefits! Not some random wanker what can’t find his own boy! Just means we need ta… change th’ plan a bit, yah? An’ without th’ bleedin’ magic holdin’ us back, we can hurt him if we have ta. Torture him ‘til he begs us ta shag him again, right?”
Bloody hell. He loved Spike. He truly did, but… “Yesss… because that worked so very well when you went haring off after Drusilla, did it not?” William snorted. “No, beloved… I believe a bit more finesse is in order. Allow me the luxury of a few moments and I’m certain that we’ll discover a solution to our little… problem.”
It was the truly wicked look on William’s face that had Spike calming down enough to sit again.
After all, every time his twin had worn that expression, things had gone exactly as the darker blond planned.
This time wouldn’t be any different.
* * * * *
Xander sighed softly as he walked into his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.
He still wasn’t sure about his date with Tara’s friend Rob. New Year’s Eve seemed more like a couple-y kind of thing; not like a first-date one.
Of course, it was still five days away, so maybe he’d be able to talk himself into just going with it.
He kind of thought he might, too, because the dreams he’d had the night before had been… well, hot wasn’t actually a strong enough word.
It had almost been a repeat of the Christmas Eve dream, except in it, he’d known it wasn’t Anya behind him, filling him so perfectly… and he’d known there was a second person there, enjoying his mouth at the same time.
The main difference, of course, was that he’d woken in his bed without a plug or anything else in his ass.
He’d been hard and throbbing and nearly desperate, though, and the idea of one of the old dildos had been incredibly appealing.
So for the second time in as many days, Xander had found himself waking up with silicone stretching him wide because the orgasm he’d experienced when he’d slammed it into his own ass had been so strong, so fucking overwhelming that he’d passed out.
He was kinda afraid that by the time Rob showed up for their date, he’d be so fucking anxious for the real thing that he’d just tackle the guy and have at him, but…
“God, I can not go out with this guy! Jesus, he’s gonna think I’m some kinda slut!”
That didn’t stop him from stripping naked and gathering his supplies before settling on the couch, though… and when everything was arranged the way he wanted it-lube beside him on the cushions and three different sizes of dildos, as well-he turned on the TV and DVD player with his handy universal remote.
“Okay, guys,” he murmured over the opening credits, “show me what you’ve got…”
He was so gonna have to buy a copy of this movie. His new Christmas movie.
After all, if he hadn’t seen it, he’d still be living in denial, afraid to even open the one small box Anya had left behind, much less use any of the items inside it.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a crappy Christmas, after all, he told himself, not noticing even slightly as yet another tiny bit of nearly invisible glittery glow sank into his skin.
In fact, all he did notice was… he suddenly hoped he really did have the dream again later. And that this time he would see who he was with because while whoever the guys were couldn’t possibly be that good in real life, it would be nice to have faces to picture when he wasn’t dreaming.
~End… for now.