Title: His & His Alone
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Spike/Xander
Master!post Master!post
Part : 6/?
Warning(s): Unchipped Spike & Pet!Xander
Beta(s): Unbeta'd but proofread
Prompt(s): 50kinkyways prompt 49 : Writer's Choice : Dance and lover100 prompt 003 : Writer's Choice : Dance
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Graphics: Banner created by foreverbm over at grafx_requests
Summary:
A/N: Song Fic - Bryan Ferry - Slave to Love


"Dance for me."

"What?"

"I want you to dance for me. Cheerleader told me summat about a club in Oxnard – got a hankering to see it for myself. So dance for me."

"I... that – well, um, that wasn't what I expected." Shocked Xander stood in the middle of the room, totally confused.

"What did ya think I was gonna ask for – a fuck? Got that don't I? An' as much as you pretend you don't enjoy it, the buckets of cum you shoot speak different. So no, not gonna ask ya for sexual favours. Not this time anyway. I want ya to dance for me." Spike threw himself onto the bed, arms folded beneath his head as he relaxed against the numerous pillows.

"There's no music."

"Stereo works."

"I - I don't have my costume."

"Don't need one, 'specially in those pants. Must thank Hasnuv for putting you in that – for such an ugly demon he's got good taste."

"I - "

"Nuff excuses Pet. You asked for a boon an' ya got one. Time to pay the piper ain't it?"

Xander shuffled over to the stereo, his mind racing. He had expected Spike to want something sexual, had psyched himself up for it in fact. Dancing for Spike – that was just something he hadn't even considered and he found himself hating Cordelia all the more – vampire Cordelia had all the memories but even less tact that before she was turned. She'd been a bit of a bitch before – now she was most definitely Queen.

He flicked through the cds that were there absent-mindedly. He didn't recognise most of the stuff that was there – the Ramones, the Clash, Sex Pistols. He stopped when he reached a song he did recognise, wondering why he had done so even as he loaded the CD into the stereo, chose the correct song and pressed play. Eyes closed he began to sway as the guitars began to play. It wasn't a raunchy dance, nothing intentionally sexy about it at all – there were no pelvic thrusts, no grinding, no shaking his ass – just slow, sensual movements as the sadness in the song spoke through him.

He wasn't aware of Spike's eyes bleeding golden as he watched, admiring the sleek lines of Xander's body, the tanned, smooth skin as he twisted and turned.


His boy was beautiful. Eyes closed, head thrown back so that the over-long shaggy hair hung down between his shoulder blades as he span, twisted and turned. Spike had expected either the spasmodic dancing of so many young people – all jerky movements, no grace. That, or some overtly sexual display – thumping beat of music, grinding hips. Instead it was like watching water spilling over silk, smooth, sensuous – not trained in any way, just feeling the music and letting it feed his movements.

He didn't realise he had stood up until he was standing behind the tall figure, hands not quite touching as he followed the movements of the youthful body. He could feel the heat emanating from the boy, scent the sweat, feel the emotions the boy was struggling to deal with: guilt, fear, sadness. Underlying it all, though, was a deep vein of lust. Whether he knew it or not, Xander wanted him. And that was an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac. He followed the lines of Xander's body, so conscious of the boy's body space that even as the movements shifted with the chorus of the song he didn't lay a hand on him – grazing the air that he stirred.

He moved closer until his crotch was pressed against the slowly moving ass, enjoying the feel of the firm shape as Xander shifted his movements, sliding himself against the front of Spike's body in a caress that was as sexy as it was unconscious. He lifted his arms to wrap around Spike's neck, hands slipping into the tightly gelled hair at the nape of his neck. Reaching out, Spike pressed repeat on the stereo, unwilling to break whatever trance-state Xander was in. His demon was almost purring, exulting in the boy's unconscious exhibition of attraction – it was like an mating dance, Xander's hands drawing attention to his body as they stroked and slid over the tanned flesh. He followed the movements with his own hands, finally touching for himself, relishing the warmth that was emanating from the boy's skin.

There was a pause before the song began again and Xander froze, hands gripping the short blond hair, head tilted back so that his face was pressed against Spike's jaw. Uncharacteristically, Spike didn't move, waiting to see what the boy would do. He wanted to heed the warning Itanya had given him, knew he needed to bond the boy to him and yeah, there was something inside that wanted - more. He was enjoying this – the hesitant caresses, the strength of the body voluntarily pressed against his. The smooth music started up again and Spike huffed out a breath as Xander began to move again. He slid his hands up Xander's chest, gently flicking the nipple ring as he plucked at the other nipple. A low rumble came from Xander's chest, his ass pressing back more firmly. Following the lines of his body, Spike trailed his fingers down the flat stomach, swirled around the indentation of his belly button, pushed underneath the light elastic of the diaphanous pants through the forest of dark curls. The rumble became louder as Spike stroked the base of Xander's cock, squeezing gently before slipping up the shaft to rub the leaking head. Xander's hips thrust forward into Spike's grip, his face pressing harder against Spike's jawline.

Game face taking over, Spike concentrated all of his senses on Xander – learning from the gasps and rumbles what felt good, the twitches of Xander's body as he swayed in Spike's embrace, the slide of his ass against Spike's rock hard erection. His lust was rising, the demon taking over but still he kept the rhythm of his hand movements slow, sweet, gentle – more gentle than he could ever remember being, even with his Dark Princess.


The words of the song were buzzing through his head. You're running with me
Don't touch the ground
We're the restless hearted
Not the chained and bound
The sky is burning
A sea of flame
Though your world is changing
I will be the same

Xander was panting for breath, hands digging into Spike's hair as he thrust his hips back and forth – forward into the tight grip of Spike's hand, back into the grind and thrust of Spike's cock against his ass. He could feel the changed aspect of Spike's face, the planes of his demon aspect altering the sensations as Spike pressed his face against Xander's.

Spike was crooning in his ear – the words meaningless, mingling with the song as Xander moved closer and closer to orgasm. He couldn't explain what he was feeling – anger at the way things had gone; sadness for Warren and for the other humans who were trapped as nothing but Pets, often treated worse than animals; fear and resentment. But deep down, every fibre of his being was aware that he was in the arms of a demon – that he had voluntarily put himself there on this occasion, and that given the choice he wasn't sure whether he would be able to walk away. That the cool skin pressed against his sweaty temple belonged to a blood-sucking murderer; that just because he wasn't Spike's food didn't mean that someone he might well have known wasn't. And Xander wasn't sure what it said about him that at that point in time he didn't care. Slave to love
And I can't escape
I'm a slave to love

Slave to love
And I can't escape
I'm a slave to love

Slave to love
And I can't escape
I'm a slave to love

"Come for me Pet." And obeying his master's voice, he did.


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