Spike's head lifted briefly when Xander opened the basement door, then dropped again.
"Great," he said, as Xander came down the stairs. "You. So it's not enough that she locks me up in here, she's got to torture me too?"
"Buffy doesn't want you left - " Xander paused. Not alone, that wasn't the word he wanted. It sounded too - caring. "Unguarded," he finally finished.
Spike pulled on one of the chains that bound him to the wall, making it rattle. "Look at me, Harris. What damage can I do? I can't hurt anyone, even I wanted to. Which I don't, before you start. Although I could be persuaded to make an exception in your case."
Xander pulled a chair in front of the cot, turned it so the back faced forward, and straddled it.
"Oh, please," said Spike. "Are we going to play cops and robbers, now? You going to interrogate me? Or how about we do Silence of the Lambs - you wanna be Clarice to my Hannibal, is that it?"
"Believe it or not, Spike, I'm no more happy about this than you are. I've got better things to do with my time than babysit you."
"Yeah, right. Like wank yourself stupid thinking about how much you want me to fuck you?"
Xander blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. What, you think I don't know? You think I don't see how you look at me?"
He stared at Spike, whose mouth was hanging open slightly. And not, as Xander finally realised, forming words.
And Spike was staring right back at him - no, not at him. Behind him. Xander turned his head, to see -
- Spike, standing behind him with his arms folded and a smirk on his face.
"Oh, shit," said Xander.
Spike - the real one - spoke up. "Xander. Maybe you should get out of here."
Xander sat up straighter, and shook his head. "Run away from this thing? No way. Besides, what's it going to do, annoy me to death? It can't touch me, remember?"
The First moved around the front of the chair, eyes not leaving Xander. "There's my brave little soldier," it said. "Bet that's such a disappointment for you, isn't it?"
"What?"
It leaned down, until its face was level with Xander's. "That I can't touch you. That it can't be my hand instead of your own, all the time."
Xander looked away, avoiding both Spikes' eyes. "You're pathetic, you know that? Why don't you take your stupid fantasies and go haunt someone else?"
The First reached out a hand towards Xander's face, fingertips stopping just short of his cheek. Despite himself, Xander flinched.
"I like you, you know?" it said. "I really do. When this is over, I might keep you. As a pet. How does that sound?"
It straightened up again, running its hands over its own chest. "And I like this body. How about I keep this too, and then we can really do all those lovely, dirty things you think about when you're stroking your cock in the middle of the night and you think no-one knows. Won't that be fun?"
And Xander knew, just knew, that there was a marvellous, cutting comeback to that; one that would easily demonstrate how completely ridiculous and beneath his contempt it was. He just couldn't immediately think of it.
"Shut up," he said.
The First laughed, and damn if that didn't sound weird. Spike didn't do that. He kinda snorted sometimes, but that was about it. It was strange to hear him really laugh, but almost - nice.
"Stop that," said Xander, and oh god, could he sound any more like a peeved kid if he tried?
"Aww, pet," said the First. "You're blushing. That's so sweet." It smiled warmly, and all of this just looked so wrong on Spike's face that Xander had to look away.
"I do love the shy ones," it said, moving around the other side of the chair so that it could get in Xander's personal space again - and if he didn't know his fist would go right through it, he would have punched it straight in that grinning, gorgeous face.
Pause.
Rewind.
- grinning, hateful face.
Xander took a deep breath. Get a grip, soldier. Don't let this thing get under your skin. It's just trying to play you. Keep it together, now.
But really, skin wasn't a good thing to be thinking about right now with Spike - it's not Spike, for fuck's sake - looking at him like that; all intense blue eyes and soft, slightly parted lips and good holy fuck what was wrong with him? Whatever this thing said, he didn't think of Spike like that.
He didn't.
"So cute," said the First, moving closer. "So pretty." Closer, closer, to kissing distance now, and still Xander sat there, paralysed.
"Just look at you. All trembling and needy. All that lovely skin just waiting to be licked and touched and stroked. That sweet, warm cock just waiting for me, huh? Waiting and aching and needing me to take it my hand, my mouth, so warm and wet and hot."
Xander swallowed, the click of his dry throat very audible in a room where the only breathing was his own. What was it doing to him, for heaven's sake? Did it have some kind of mind control mojo now? Something sure as hell was rotten in Denmark, because there was no way on god's green earth that Xander in his right mind would just sit there while something wearing Spike's face talked to him like that, and got so close to him that all he could see was hypnotising, drowning blue. While it made him start thinking about his cock in Spike's mouth, about Spike sucking him, and Christ it was making him hard, thinking about Spike and his cock was straining against his jeans, chafing against the material and it felt good so good but oh god this was wrong it was sick it was disgusting it wasn't him he didn't want this he didn't want this he didn't want Spike but oh shit Spike -
"- Buffy?"
Xander ran his hand over his face, just about resisting the urge to slap it. To slap some sanity into himself.
"What?" he said groggily.
"I said, maybe you ought to go and get Buffy."
"Oh, good idea," said the First. Let's see if Buffy wants to play too, shall we?" It turned, and faced the real Spike. "She had a bit of a liking for your cock too, didn't she? Maybe she can tell pretty Xander here what it's like to suck you off, to make you come. Maybe she'll even show him." It whirled back to Xander. "Would you like that? To watch Buffy suck Spike's cock? It's a sight to see, let me tell you. They look good together, and she's a demon in the sack. Maybe they'd fuck for you, give you a real show. She looks beautiful when she's on top, like a goddess. Lifting herself up onto his cock, running her hands over her breasts and her clit, bringing herself off while she rides him."
It closed its eyes, stroking one hand down its body, over its own cock. "Makes you want to do something about that yourself, doesn't it?"
Xander tried to ignore the pulsing ache in his groin. "No Buffy," he said eventually, horrified at how ragged his voice sounded. How turned on.
But now he couldn't get her out of his mind; the thought of Buffy riding Spike, fucking him, his cock sliding in and out of her and his hands stroking her breasts. On her knees, his cock in her mouth or her ass. His head thrown back, his mouth open, his -
"No," said Spike, so low that Xander had to strain to hear him. He was slumped against the wall, looking dazed and heavy-eyed. And Xander didn't want to look, he tried not to, but his eyes wouldn't obey him any more and yes, Spike was hard. Xander could see the outline of his cock where it strained against the material of his jeans, and oh sweet jesus he wanted to be over there on that cot, undoing those jeans and taking that cock out into his hand, touching and holding and stroking and -
"You want him," said the First, in that low, semi-growling voice that bypassed Xander's ears in favour of burning its way through his chest and down to his groin. His cock leapt again, so exquisitely painful that he was just going to have to give it some room or die.
"Oh yes," said that voice again, as his hand wavered. "Yes. Show me, Xander. Show me your beautiful cock. Let me see it, let me touch it. You know you want me to. You want me to taste it, to suck it, to make you come while you think about Spike with Buffy, beautiful Buffy, you want her don't you? You want her, you want Spike, you think about them together, what he does to her, what she does to him, you've been thinking about that for so long, while you touch yourself because it looks so good and you want them both, you want to be with them, you want to fuck them, Xander, you want them to fuck you, to want you, to touch you, to suck you, you want that, you need that, don't you Xander?"
Shit, fuck, he was so hard it hurt and he shifted on the chair but the friction just made it worse, and Spike was looking at him and his eyes were so blue so full of need and oh fucking fuck this was bad, he knew this was bad it was wrong but he ached so badly and he just couldn't think over the roaring in his head -
"Do it, Xander, do what you have to do, what you need to do, it's okay, you can let go, Xander, you can do it, you know you have to, you know it's okay, you know he wants it, look at him, he's hard, you can see how he's hard, he wants you, he's hard for you, he needs you Xander, he - "
He had to think of a way to stop this, to get out of this, but fuck, he was harder than he'd ever been in his life and it hurt, it hurt so much he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but look at Spike and take his throbbing cock into his hand.
Spike hissed and shifted on the cot, his hips jerking upwards, and Xander realised his hands were still chained to the wall.
"Go to him," said that terrible, wonderful voice, and somehow Xander was moving, getting off the chair and walking over to Spike with his fingers still wrapped around his cock and it was madness, he knew it was madness but it felt so good he couldn't stop, couldn't, and it was all some kind of spell some kind of magic it wasn't his fault he was under a spell and Spike too because Spike was staring at his cock like he really did want it and licking his lips ah god Xander was going to come right there and then if he wasn't careful and he didn't want that he wanted to come in Spike's hand in Spike's mouth oh god this was all so very fucked up but he still couldn't stop and it didn't matter it was a spell it wasn't his fault and he just had to have Spike's mouth on him or he was flat out going to explode -
"Good boy, good boy. That's it, you know you want to. Let him touch you, let him make you feel good, you know you want him to."
That voice was killing him he was dying didn't even know who was speaking any more or who to he was burning, melting, falling, and his mouth was on Spike's in a punishing kiss and his tongue was pushing against Spike's and his cock was on fire and his hand was unzipping Spike's jeans and taking him out and oh god he had Spike's cock in his hand and it felt good he had to touch it had to have it in his mouth and it was so cool and so smooth and he was coming he was dying and Spike's name was ripping its way out of his throat and he grabbed hold of Spike's cock again and pumped for all he was worth and Spike threw back his head and screamed as he came.
Xander shuddered as the fire in his cock and his brain began to fade, and half collapsed against Spike's chest. His mouth was dry and his cock felt raw, and his mind was just was beginning to pick itself up off the floor and he just knew it was going to decide a total breakdown was a good idea if he hadn't actually had one already.
"Beautiful," said the First from behind him. "Absolutely beautiful. You two are going to be so happy together."
"Wait. Wait," said Xander through bruised lips. "I don't know what freaky magic you just used there but you needn't think -"
"But I do think. I think about how to get what I want. And that'd be you, in case you hadn't noticed. Oh, and there was no freaky magic - just the power of suggestion and one horny little boy."
It smiled as Xander began to straighten up, his knees still astride Spike's thighs and their faces almost level. "This, though? This is the freaky magic. Have fun, boys." Then it folded its arms, and began to sing. "Early one morning, just as the sun was rising..."
- End -
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