Twelve Hours 3
"Well, well." A voice traveled down the length of the alley. "What do we have here?"
The man holding Xander´s wrists muttered, "Fuck off, okay?" over his shoulder. "We´re busy."
When he turned back, Xander moaned low in his throat and pressed their bodies together once more, bucking against the cock slip–sliding against his groin. "Don´t –– don´t," he stuttered, unable to finish the thought Don´t move away again, don´t try to leave, don´t don´t don´t.
"Don´t you worry, baby. Not going to let a pretty bitch like you go," the man grunted at him, speeding the pace of his thrusts. "Think I got the pick of the crowd, huh? You´re so hot for this, and you´re going to love it later on, when I––"
"Don´t think I will," the voice said, closer now. "Don´t think you will, if it comes to that."
The man slammed Xander forward, growling in frustration as he began to speak to the other person once more. "I told you to get lost!"
Suddenly Xander found himself pressed against the wall, the man he´d been squirming against backed up against him. He blinked and tried to focus. The person who had called out to them was standing in front of them now, was . . . Spike.
"Hi, Spike," Xander mumbled, before lowering his lips to the man´s neck, and pushing his hard cock against the man´s bare ass.
"Not now," the man growled back at him, and this time, okay, yes, clearly that was a forked tongue, and now that Xander´s vision was zoning in just a little better . . . red eyes? "You know this guy?"
Xander stilled, but he made a high, needy sound in his throat. Something had to happen.
"Oh, he knows me. And I know him, though I haven´t ever seen him..." Spike paused, and then smirked. "So. Expect to fight me off with your trousers about your knees?" He raised a lit cigarette to his mouth and drew on it. "And me with my clothes still on, and more than happy to tear you apart."
Xander followed the motion of Spike´s hand with his eyes, licking his lips when he watched the burn and smelled the smoke. Spike was here. Spike wasn´t supposed to be here, not at a place like this, not while this . . . thing was happening.
"Oh, please," the man laughed. "I don´t care how much you want to get your friend out of here. I´ve fought humans in situations worse than this and won. You should run along, if you know what´s good for you."
"Fought humans?" Spike mused. His gaze flickered over to Xander. "Yeah, well. Doesn´t look like you´ve got any objections from that one. What´d you give him, anyway? Boy smells off, like he´s been doped up."
"I wasn´t talking about him," the man snarled. "He´s not a problem; he´s just tonight´s entertainment. But you, on the other hand, are going to find yourself wishing you´d minded your own business."
Spike snorted. "You get all your threatening lines from bad films?"
And then Xander was suddenly exposed as the man leaped forward towards Spike. He closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath as he felt a wave of wantwantwant wash over him, a force that pulled at him, as though he was a magnet being drawn inexorably forward toward its lodestone.
The sounds of snarls and fists meeting flesh reached his ears, but even that only sharpened the edge of need. He took a short, ragged breath when his eyes began to sting, and after another moment, lowered his hand and stroked his own cock.
The scuffling moved away, punctured with curses and the sound of boxes clattering to the ground. Finally there was silence, then a sharp yelp, then the sound of a crack!.
Xander whimpered as he heard footsteps, half ready to shield himself, half ready to fling himself at whoever was walking towards him.
"It´s over," Spike said gruffly. Xander opened his eyes, but Spike wasn´t looking at him. He was glancing at Xander´s fist, which continued to work slowly, tightly, over his cock.
"What´d he give you, anyway?" Spike asked. He took a step closer.
Xander made a strangled sound. "Drink . . . drink, something . . . he wanted me to . . ."
"Yeah, well, cavalry´s here," Spike replied. "Can take you home now."
There was a pause.
"Funny how you keep doing that, pet," Spike said in a low voice.
"Spike . . . please . . " Xander shook his head at Spike, at himself, as he kept easing his fist up and down his prick. This was –– god, he needed this.
"Can´t stop, can you?"
Xander shook his head again, snapping his hips up, increasing the pace of his strokes.
"´Course, would be a shame to waste it," Spike said softly.
And then Spike was surging forward.
