Bargain | By : katharina99 Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Slash - Male/Male > Spike(William)/Xander > Spike(William)/Xander Views: 19719 -:- 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. |
They'd finally spent a fair pile of dosh at the first shop. The Master vampire had simply intended to waste the mortal clerk’s time and then leave him with a huge pile of garments to re-shelve, but when he’d seen his boy walk out of the changing room wearing skin tight leather pants and a beautiful silk chocolate coloured shirt, Spike had not been able to resist. His boy had been such a vision. If not for the chip, he would happily have thrown the lad against the changing room’s beige walls and taken him right then and there. Sorry demon he was, when the prospect of a poofy shopkeeper calling mall security would stop him from doing as he pleased. Problem was, security guards tended to be human, though this was the Hellmouth. He supposed he could always drag the whelp into the loo, but as fun as that sounded in books and on the telly, it really wasn’t practical in real life. The blond did not fancy the idea of being bodily expulsed from the shopping centre.
He was fairly satisfied with what they had managed to find. His boy would now look like a pet befitting a Master vampire. The lad really was quite beautiful; he'd simply learned to veil it very well over the years. Now with some careful selections, the boy's hidden attributes would shine.
Spike had even had the foresight to purchase the brunet some more work clothes, although he’d left most of the boy’s obvious job related clothing alone. As tempting as destroying all that flannel was, the vampire could see how such garments could be useful on a construction site. Which reminded him of another point.
"Kitten?" the vampire smirked, noticing the little cringe the young man could not suppress. Maybe he’d get the boy a collar with a nice gold nametag.
"Yes, Master?" the mortal hissed in a low voice. His boy was going to have to learn that he was Spike’s property regardless of where they were.
"When are you due back to work?" the blond asked.
"Monday," his boy replied quietly.
"You go back to work tomorrow morning?" Spike exclaimed, surprised the human hadn’t brought it up before.
"Is it Sunday?" his boy said, sounding a little bit taken aback.
"Yeah, Kitten. We’ll have to put you to bed nice and early. What time do you start work?" the blond vampire asked. He had a fair idea it would be at an ungodly hour. He recalled the mortal getting up really early when he’d been his ‘houseguest’.
"6:00 AM," the dark-haired human answered absently.
"We’d best finish our errands and head home then, or we won’t be able to have any fun tonight," Spike leered, pulling the package-laden mortal against him. The boy’s cheeks flushed the prettiest deep rose colour, but Spike could feel his boy's hardness against him. Reaching between their bodies, the vampire cupped the youth's erection through the worn fabric of his jeans. The blond smiled at the mortal’s barely concealed gasp.
"Come on, Kitten, we still need to get some healthy food into our flat," the vampire chuckled at the disgruntled look on the boy’s face. His boy was going to have to learn the he couldn’t survive on Twinkies and potato chips alone, even if it meant that he had to tap into William’s limited culinary talents. His mother being of ill health most of the time and their household not being wealthy enough to afford fulltime help, William had found himself doing a lot more of the housework than was normal for a man of his era. Even his poncy mortal self would never have admitted that in public. He had to acknowledge that the limited skills he learned taking care of his mum would come in handy in looking after his pet.
Taking the mortal by the arm, the blond vamp marched them both determinedly to the nearby market. Laying the various coloured bags the brunet’s arms had been burdened with into a large cart; the vampire happily steered them through the over-stocked isles. He saw his boy stare lovingly at the Hostess display, but steered them well clear of it. He began filling the cart, picking up the basic staples his pet's kitchen had been lacking: milk, cereal, not made out of 100% sugar, actual fruit juice, some pasta, and other assorted foodstuffs. The boy did show some appreciation when they reached the meat counter though. His pet was definitely a carnivore, though he did not seem overly taken with the fish. Spike nearly forgot himself and burst out into guffaws when he saw the totally disgusted look on the mortal’s handsome face as he turned them towards the produce isle. The boy looked just priceless.
"Believe it or not, Kitten, these won’t hurt you," the blond chuckled, reaching for a nice plump tomato. Harris looked at the vegetable as if Spike was asking him to eat manure. "Come on, your mum must have made you eat veggies when you were a tyke. This'll be no worse."
"Mom doesn't cook," his boy groused, folding his arms over his chest. That explained a lot, the vampire supposed. The boy had probably had to fend for himself at an early age. Contrary to what some might think, the blond wasn’t stupid. He’d spent enough time trapped in the pup’s basement to know that the boy’s parents weren’t exactly doting.
‘Course, how could they possibly work in any time for the young man between all the yelling and throwing things? Had the stupid sods spent any time at all worrying about their only son, they might not have been able to work in all that drinking. While Spike could certainly appreciate a good drunk, even he was disgusted by the whelp’s folks.
"There must be some kind of fruit or vegetable you like," Spike inquired, filling the cart with a variety of fresh vegetables.
"Carrots are okay, I guess," the young man sulked. He should give the mortal a few good swats right here for being so surly. The boy looked all of eight years old, moping there beside him. He settled for picking out a package of Brussels sprouts along with a bag of carrots.
"Don’t pout, pet, I’m enjoying myself far too much to let you drop from a heart attack before you’re 30, "Spike chuckled. He gave the mortal’s arse a quick tap when he did not respond. "’Sides you seemed to have liked what I’ve made for you so far. You appeared to have enjoyed a lot of what I’ve done so far." Such a beauty when he blushes.
"Don't know what we’re going to do when we get home. Do you think you've been a good boy today?" the blond asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stared at the now nervously shuffling brunet.
"I'm doing the best I can, okay," the dark-haired man finally answered in a low voice as the vampire reached for a bunch of bananas. The young man wouldn't make eye contact.
The mortal sounded so tired the vampire couldn't seem to stir up the anger he should have at the boy's flagrant disrespect. He silently brought his boy to him, wrapping his arms around the mortal's waist. He stroked the boy's stubbled check softly. Xander was trembling softly in his embrace.
"Is it so very difficult, Kitten? Do you really hate belonging to me? Do you loathe my touch that much? Is it that difficult writhing under me?" Spike whispered, nibbling on the soft lobe of his pet's ear. "I can smell how much my touch excites you. Stop fighting me, Kitten. Stop fighting yourself."
"Stop fighting? Do you have any idea how hard this is? How much of myself I've given up? You tell me to spread my legs and I do. I've laid down meekly and let you… fuck me. What more do you want? You have everything," his boy spat angrily, trying to twist out of his grip. Without the protection of the chip, it was impossible. Spike held the mortal fast. The brunet's eyes were brimming with unshed angry tears.
"Not everything, Kitten," the blond sighed. "You'll be a good deal happier when you stop fighting yourself, pet, and accept your new place in the universe."
"I'm your property, Master," his boy spat out bitterly. He shook his head sadly. "How do I accept that? How do I deal with losing everything that I am? Do have any idea what that's like?"
"Matter of fact, Kitten, I do. Big difference is you got a choice. I didn't," Spike snarled, tightening his grip painfully on the human, remembering all the things he'd been forced to set aside since he'd been captured by the Initiative. This one, this one had been the worst. He'd constantly mocked the Master vampire and his condition. Calling him various derogatory names like Impotent One, Waste of space, and Willie Wanna-Bite, one of Spike's personal favorites. The boy didn't have to spend night after night tied to a decrepit orange torture device now did he? The brat had known damn well that he couldn't do any harm.
Seeing the mortal try and fail to conceal a gasp of pain, the vampire released his grip slightly. He needed to watch himself.
"I'm sorry. I'm doing my best. I know I got myself into this. It's just a lot harder than I thought it would be. You're stronger than I am, okay? I can't deal with this," the mortal admitted morosely. When Spike felt him try to pull away this time, he let him. It was satisfying hearing the Scooby admit he couldn't deal as well as the vampire could. After being ridiculed so long, Spike's ego needed the stroking indirect though it may be.
"What is it you can't deal with, Kitten? The loss of power or the fact that you like being powerless?" Spike whispered into his pet's ear, wrapping his arms around the brunet's waist from behind. He felt the mortal shudder as he kissed his neck gently.
"Stop it, please," Xander begged.
"I'm not human, pet. You can't hide from me. I can smell you. I smelt how your arousal grew when I slipped the cuffs around your limbs. I saw your skin flush with heat when I told you you were going to be spanked. You never softened on my lap, if anything you grew harder. I hear the little sound you make when I'm inside you, Kitten. The ones you try to keep from me. I hear them all," the Master vampire murmured seductively.
"Master," his boy complained.
"Listen to what your body is trying to tell you," Spike insisted, grinding against the mortal's bottom for emphasis. Reaching inside his pet's coat, he fondled his boy's sensitive little nipples through the soft cotton fabric of his T-shirt. He squeezed them slowly until Xander moaned under his breath. Releasing the mortal, the blond strolled over to the fruit display picking up a shiny red apple. "Do you expect me to believe that didn't turn your crank, Kitten?"
The mortal folded his arms tightly across his chest again, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Spike just smirked, absently putting things into their cart, satisfied that he'd made his point.
"Master?" the brown-eyed man whispered, turning to face the vampire.
"What is it, Kitten?" the blond asked, tilting his head.
"Can I ask you something without you getting mad?" the mortal ventured, stepping closer.
"Depends what it is," Spike replied. "You won't know unless you ask," he continued, seeing the brunet's hesitation.
"You told me that vampire spit makes people horny?" his pet asked in hushed tones. The boy really was adorable, if you went for that sort of thing. He was becoming such a wanker.
"Yes Kitten?" the smaller creature smiled.
"Is that why I…" the sable-haired boy began.
"Why you get so hard for me?" the vampire purred, cupping his slave's chin in his hand. The mortal nodded softly. "No, Kitten. It helps things along, but it can't give you desires that were never there. That would make things easier wouldn't it sweet? If you could blame everything you're feeling on me?" The mortal didn't answer right away, but then just nodded quietly. Spike could sense the confusion coming off his human.
"What does it matter why you're feeling things, Kitten? Just let yourself feel them," Spike coaxed. The brunet said nothing, but seemed to relax just a fraction. Deciding it would have to do for now, the vampire lay a hand on the small of his boy's back and started guiding them towards the check-out line.
"Xander?" the voice from behind them really shouldn't have surprised the vampire; Sunnydale was a small place after all. The tosser it was attached to though was supposed to have run off to England with his tail between his legs.
"Watcher," he greeted coolly.
"Giles?" his boy's longing voice replied almost at the same time.
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