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Reality	By : WhiskeyMeteor Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Slash - Male/Male > Andrew/Spike(William) > Andrew/Spike(William) Views: 2237 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Reality
- 1
Title: Reality
Author: Whiskey Meteor
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Spike/Andrew/oven mitt. Sequal to �Make Believe�. Andrew wants to know what Spike saw in the oven mitts. Spike watches, and then helps Andrew out a little.
Disclaimer: Everything BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon.
Notes: Set in season 7, but no real spoilers. And thanks to Scarlet for the supportive beta:)

*****************************

Spike woke with a cry.
He�d had the same dream every night for an entire week. The dream featured Andrew- naked save for that damned pair of oven mitts- and always ended in Spike waking with a cry in a bed wet with sweat and come.
It was becoming a problem, Spike realised. Dreaming about Andrew that way just wasn�t a good thing. ...Even if they were the best damn dreams he�d *ever* had in his entiree ane and death.
Spike sighed and sat up, mopping himself off with a clean patch of sheet.

He had to stop doing this.

He was running out of clean patches of sheet...

* * * * *

Andrew woke with a cry.
He�d had the same dream every night for a week straight. It featured Worf- chasing him down the halls of Sunnydale high, brandishing a bat�leth- and always ended with Andrew waking with a cry, in a bed wet with sweat and... well, just sweat.
Andrew sat up in his sleeping bag and mopped his forehead with a shaky hand. He took a deep breath and let it out in an irritated hiss. He never dreamed about anything *good*.
He sighed and closed his eyes. There were so many good things he could dream about. ...Like how about a week ago, a certain bleached blonde vampire had stolen his oven mitts and had his way with them. Andrew hadn�t been able to so much as look at the mitts without getting hard since it had happened. It was embarrassing. But on the plus side Andrew�s legs were getting nicely toned from constantly dashing to the bathroom to... take care of his embarrassment.
Sliding silently out of his sleeping bag, Andrew tiptoed into the kitchen. He paused for a moment by bas basement door and looked at the spot on the floor he�d occupied for so long that night- simply sitting until his breathing became even and his legs stopped shaking like jelly. When he�d finally made his way to bed, his mind had been full of Spike. Spike stroking himself with an oven mitt clad hand. Spike panting for unneeded breath. Spike growling in pleasure as he came. And yet Andrew had dreamt about being chased by an angry Klingon.
He sighed. It simply wasn�t fair.
Suddenly catching sight of the oven mitts Andrew crossed the kitchen to the oven, where they lay in an unceremonious pile. He picked one up and examined it, turning it around in his hands. The red, quilted material was yielding, but rough. He couldn�t imagine how rubbing that against your skin could feel *good*... Although, Spike had certainly seemed to enjoy himself.
Andrew cast a furtive glance around the kitchen. It was deserted, and the e wae was still quiet; thanks to the early hour the potentials were still asleep. He shrugged and hopped up onto the counter by the stove.

* * * * *

Spike pulled on his jeans and standard tight, black T-shirt. The house above him was quiet, which meant that it was still early and the hordes of teenage slayers in training were still asleep.
This part of the day had worked itself into the vampire�s roe. e. He wasn�t entirely sure how, or why, but there didn�t seem any point in trying to fight it.
The morning after Spike had commandeered Andrew�s oven mitts, the vampire had woken up at the top of the basement stairs. He�d ventured out into the kitchen to return the mitts and then strayed into the living room where Andrew was sleeping. He was all tousled hair and dream flushed cheeks- and Spike hadn�t been able look away. He�d wondered what Andrew was dreaming about. He�d hoped it was him. And then with a shake of his head, he�d slunk back to the basement more than a little bit confused. Each night after that Spike had been pleasantly plagued with intensely erotic dreams of the boy and his oven mitts. And every morning after, Spike had snuck upstairs to watch him sleep. He was infatuated. He didn�t quite know why, and he wasn�t about to admit it out loud... But in dreams, with his arms wrapped around a warm body that writhed with pleasure and screamed his name, the *why* of it didn�t really seem to matter.
Spike rose from his cot, a smirk spreading across his face, and swiftly mounted the stairs. He wanted Andrew. He didn�t know why, and he didn�t really care. Spike wanted him, and it would only be a matter of time before he had him.
Spike raised a hand to the door-knob, and then stopped. He cocked his head to the side, listening. Someone was in the kitchen. He pressed the door open ever so slightly, creating a crack just large enough to peek through. A thoughtful frown creased the vampire�s face. Andrew was sitting on the counter by the stove, holding one his bloody oven mitts, and- If Spike had needed breath, at that moment he would have held it.

* * * * *

After casting another furtive glance around the room, Andrew nodded to himself resolutely. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slid down his fly.

* * * * *

Spike�s jaw dropped. Was Andrew...? In the kitchen? With the oven mitts? The vampire blinked his eyes and shook his head. A smile spread across his face. Spike had to hand it the boy- he had balls. ...And a nice hard cock to match from the look of things.
Spike licked his lips. Undeniably, this would be better than watching Andrew sleep.

* * * * *

Tentatively, Andrew slipped the oven mitt onto his hand, and pulled himself out of his pants. With the first hesitant stroke, the texture of the mitt on his dick was instantly uncomfortable. Andrew stilled his hand and frowned. It was like giving yourself rug burn... on the last body part you�d ever want to have it. And yet Spike had enjoyed it. Andrew set his jaw and took a deep breath. He wanted to know exactly what Spike had felt. And there was only one way to find out.

* * * * *

Spike let out an unnecessary breath as Andrew began to stroke himself gently. For a moment, it had looked as if the boy had changed his mind about what he was going to do. But Spike was pleased to see him following his original plan.
As Andrew ran an oven mitt covered hand over his length, Spike�s hand traveled to his own as if of its own accord. With the pop of a button and the silent slide of a zipper, Spike�s rapidly hardening cock was set free. Wrapping a hand firmly around it, he stroked quickly from tip to base, his gaze keenly focused on every move Andrew made.

* * * * *

Imagining that it was Spike�s hand sheathed in red, quilted material, Andreganegan to thrust into his fist with increasing vigor. Dull, chaffing pain combined with the dizzying pleasure of friction, and Andrew felt himself rapidly nearing release. He scraped the rough material up over the weeping tip and gave a sudden, small cry of pain.

* * * * *

Stroking himself fervently, Spike�s eyes remained glued to Andrew�s face. Seeing the young man�s features twist in a mix of intense pleasure and pain was more arousing than the vampire could have believed. As he thrust roughly into his hand, Spike imagined that he was responsible for Andrew�s pleasure and pain. He pictured himself behind the young man, holding him tightly, aching to come deep inside of him. He imagined pressing into the boy, filling him completely, and longed to feel Andrew writhe with pleasure beneath him. Andrew�s small gasp of pain tipped the vampire over the edge. His face shifted between its human and demon visages as Spike came with a deep growl, spattering his spent efforts against the door in front of him.
Then, sated, the vampire leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He silently cursed himself for having spent so much time simply watching the boy sleep when there were so many more interesting things he could be watching him do.

* * * * *
Andrew slowly opened his eyes and withdrew his mitt covered hand, shaky and tensed with arousal. Reaching out his bare hand, he gave a tentative stroke that ended in another hiss of pain. Andrew looked longingly down at his lap where his dick was standing proudly erect, and chaffed and red. He was so close, but the pain had become unbearable. Andrew ruefully realised that he�d given himself mitt-burn, and silently cursed the oven mitts.
Suddenly, a noise came from the living room. Andrew blanched- the potentials were waking up! After a moment spent frantically looking around the kitchen for somewhere to hide, Andrew�s eyes fell on bas basement door. His cock still protruding from his open fly, angry and red and bobbing in front of him, Andrew made a dash for the door. Pulling it open with his still oven mitt covered hand, he leapt inside onto the landing at the top of the stairs, and ran face first into a very surprised vampire.

Andrew shivered under the cool touch. Spike�s fingers brushed over the scar on his neck, and Andrew�s hips bucked up involuntarily, his still hard and sore cock brushing against the rough fabric of Spike�s jeans. Andrew winced at the pain the contact created. His dick felt like it was on fire- and not even remotely in a good way.

In front of him, Spike offered an evil smile. Before Andrew could begin to compute the meaning of the wicked grin, Spike�s bleach-blonde head had descended to waist level and all thought was lost from Andrew�s mind. In a second, Andrew�s burning cock was engulfed by the cool wetness of Spike�s mouth. Andrew reeled in disbelief. Shaky-legged, he placed his mitt-covered hand on top of Spike�s head and steadied himself as the painful burning was replaced by the pure burn of pleasure and lust.

* * * * *

Spike flicked his cool tongue along the length of Andrew�s cock, seeking to soothe and taste every inch of the chaffed skin. He reached a cool hand up and stroked the inside of Andrew�s thigh through his pants, and slid the other up and around to cup and squeeze the curve of his ass. Andrew panted and shook with pleasure, and Spike finally took in his entire length, his cool lips and nose pressing against hot, sweat-slicked skin.
Spike looked up and watched as Andrew bit deep into his lip, silencing a scream as he came. A single drop of crimson blood escaped Andrew�s lips and dripped down over his chin, and Spike�s eyes never left it as he suckled every last drop of hot come from the cock in his mouth before finally letting it slip from between his lips.

* * * * *

Spent and breathless, Andrew sank to the floor in front of the vampire, leaning back against the wall for support. Unsure if he should speak, Andrew remained silently watchful until Spike sat forward suddenly, cocking his head to the side. Andrew held his breath as a pink tongue snaked out from between Spike�s lips to lick away the line of blood from Andrew�s chin to his lips. Andrew shuddered in pleasure as Spike licked his lips apart and sucked gently at the cut the boy had bit into his lower lip. Only when Andrew hesitantly met Spike�s tongue with his own, did the vampire finally lean back and break the strange kiss. Spike�s pale lips were stained red with Andrew�s blood, and rather than being disturbed, Andrew found himself oddly aroused.
For a long moment, the two men sat, staring into each other�s eas ias if unable to move. And then, in the blink of an eye, Spike was on his feet and had disappeared out through the basement door.
Andrew sat, bewildered and alone, on the landing at the top of the stairs. After a minute or two, he smiled, tucked himself back into his pants, and did up his fly. He was still confused and a little light headed, but most of all he was hopeful. Maybe now he�d finally be rid of his Klingon dreams....

The End.
- 1
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