Title: Pleasure and Pain
Pairing: S/X always
Rating: NC-17 for the final drabble
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
A/N: The song title drabble titles just happened, I swear. *g*
Cuts Like A Knife
"Xander, please tell me this is one of your lame-ass practical jokes."
Arms folded, foot tapping a tattoo on the bottom step, Buffy stared in disbelief at the naked bodies tangled together on the basement cot.
"You heard me coming down the stairs, didn't you, and the two of you... You must have had this all planned out. Let's make Buffy believe that the fangless attack-vamp suddenly got the hots for 'Droopy Boy'. And, yeah, I'm really gonna believe that Xander's gone all 'gay now' and can't resist the vampire who's spent the last few years making his life hell."
If Looks Could Kill
Xander hadn't expected Willow to take the news so badly. Of course, he hadn't meant for Buffy to be the one making the grand announcement. And he certainly wouldn't have phrased it 'Hey, Willow! Did you know Spike and Xander are fucking now?'
He'd braced for shock, and maybe disbelief at his choice of bed partner. But he hadn't, really hadn't, been prepared to field the wounded looks she aimed at him each time he caught her eye. And when she turned that darkened gaze on Spike he was afraid. The power in her could turn his love to dust.
Who Wants To Live Forever
Giles was an expert assassin, using their fears and insecurities to try and crowbar them apart.
"What if Xander gets hurt, and he's bleeding to death on the floor? I'm sure that even with your... impediment, you could still turn him if that happens. Who cares if he's spent the last few years hating and killing vampires? I'm sure once you've given him a demon, he'll be happy to hunt and kill for you. Is that what you're hoping, Spike? That Xander gets himself fatally wounded so you can turn him, teach him all the tricks you learnt from Angelus?"
Don't Need A Gun
For weeks Spike talked himself and Xander to sleep with grandiose, grotesque descriptions of what he'd do that long dreamt-of day. Tooth and claw, he'd rend to pieces anyone who dared to hurt his love, be it with looks or words or deeds. He lovingly expounded on the various ways he knew to peel the human skin off, inch by inch, while making sure the victim stayed perfectly aware.
Xander wasn't wigged by this at all, and that gave him the wiggins. Listening to his lover kill his friends each night before he went to sleep made him feel loved.
Danger (High Voltage)
In the end it was fairly simple.
Xander found Riley's tazer tucked away under the stairs. A friend at work knew how to crank the voltage or the amperage or the whatever-age up to more than lethal levels. So, after extracting a solemnly sworn blood-oath of non-friend-killing, and stocking up with every bag of human Willie had stashed out the back, Xander dosed his vampire up with JD and cocaine until he crashed. And then he shocked him rigid. And again, and then again, until the batteries gave out.
Two weeks later, Spike was fit and well. And feeding.
Bone white fingers dug knuckle-deep into muscular thigh and concave hip as Spike pounded hard into the deliciously hot body pinned beneath him. Bruises from their earlier bouts were fading slowly, tinting suntanned skin with purples, blues and greens, yet Xander never seemed to get enough.
Neither had anticipated this particular kink, the need to bear the marks of violent love, to wear the bruises out with pride, but they thoroughly enjoyed it now they could. The biting was the cherry on the cake. A juicy, hot and potent, unbelievably addictive little cherry that they shared now, bite for bite.