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Prompt #412: Leather (Spike/Xander)

Title: Sense Memory
Author: Tabaqui
Character/Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: Explicit
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 500

Notes: I wrote this past midnight, and getting it to 600 words was all I could do. I am *zoned*. But the ever-awesome darkhavens waved her magical editing wand and made it 500 words. THANK YOU! *smooches*

If you care to read the 600 word edition, it's at my journal.

Xander’s never given Spike's coat much thought. He knows it’s older than he is; that Spike stole it off his second Slayer’s corpse. That should make Xander angry, disgusted, physically sick.

The sick thing is...it doesn't. It's Spike’s second skin, his missing soul: black, stolen, blood-drenched. It shouldn't be so damn hot, but it is.

Maybe it's all those raised-eyebrow innuendos, or the way Spike crowds up against him in the kitchen, reaching past for a mug, the cool length of the coat (Spike) pressing against Xander as Xander pours early-morning coffee.

Maybe it’s the soft creak of leather as Spike lounges on the Magic Box stairs, cigarette held idly in one long-fingered hand, coat draped over his thighs like a lover.

Just one whiff of that heavy, rich scent is starting to get Xander hard and it's getting out of hand. Because now he’s staring at rows of leather work gloves in the gardening section of the hardware store. He can smell them (Spike), and he's so...fucking...gone.

"Didn't fancy you as the Francis Bacon type, pet," Spike says, materializing out of nowhere (he was supposed to be looking at axes!), and slinging his arm around Xander's neck. His coat sleeve is chilly against Xander's skin, the heavy wing of it curling against Xander's back, brushing his ass. Xander shudders.

"These look good. Sturdy," Spike says, plucking a pair of brown gloves off their hook. They're heavy, with sueded palms and fingers. He turns them over, lifts them up for Xander to see. Then he rubs the damn things on Xander's cheek, the fingers like a cat's tongue.

"Got a little tooth on that, feel it?" Spike asks, bringing his other arm down over Xander's chest, moving to stand a little behind him. The coat drapes over Xander's shoulder, ratty lining brushing his knuckles and his bare forearm.

Spike's knee is against the inside of his, and Spike's thigh is between his, and Spike's.... Oh, God, Spike is hard.

Xander's cock goes from getting there to hard, aching, and wet in .3 seconds, and Spike makes a pleased noise, like a cat with a bowl of cream.

"Gloves like this, you can get a nice," -Spike drags the gloves down Xander's chest- "tight," -down, brushing across his heaving belly, to the buckle of his belt- "grip," Spike whispers in Xander's ear, low and rough and full of promise. Just like the gloves, which are now being rubbed across Xander's jeans, right…there.

Xander...snaps. He spins around, grabs two fistfuls of the coat, and yanks Spike in for a kiss that leaves both their mouths bruised, tingling and wet.

"Wear the coat and the gloves and I'll let you fuck me 'til I can't fucking come any more. Deal?" Xander blurts, breathless.

Spike puts the gloves on, turns up the collar of his coat, and grins.



( 4 — Comment )
Sep. 1st, 2016 07:50 am (UTC)

I'm always happy to facilitate more tabaqui fic, and you know Spander is very close to my heart. My first true love. :D

Spike knows exactly what he's been doing to Xander with all the lounging, and the leaning, and the coating. ;)
Sep. 1st, 2016 03:19 pm (UTC)

You are the most awesome and fabulous, bb. Couldn't do it without you!
Sep. 1st, 2016 12:44 pm (UTC)
So good!!

I just adore the way that Spike teases Xander. :) Perfection.

Sep. 1st, 2016 03:20 pm (UTC)
Yay, thank you! He's so very, very *good* at it.... :)
( 4 — Comment )


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