Title: What's in a name
Rating: R slash
Summary: Spike needs Wesley's help to get him the Gem of Amara
Notes: Spike slash ficathon fic written for dragonflymuse
Getting the watcher in his bed had been the easy part; getting him out of it
on the other hand, was a whole other matter. He'd been hanging out at Joey's, a
cheap demon dive up in the middle of nowhere, when the essence of tweed stepped
through the door. It was like getting free lunch served when you least expect
it. Spike could hear some demons start a fight about who was going to get the
idiot's tongue, even before the poor bastard managed to sit down and say a
He got up from his table, taking his bottle of Tequila with him. Tweed boy had to be a watcher; no one sane would dress like that in the middle of nowhere under Texan heat.
The boy had it, though; underneath the tweed, underneath the glasses,
underneath the crossbow that dropped by his feet as he tried to be threatening,
he just had it. Spike smirked at just the thought of what a revelation the man's
body had been.
The vampire had seduced him all too easily. He'd gotten him drunk, fought off some demons that thought to compete for the boy's ... charms, and fed him some more beer. By the time he was through, the man would have let him suck him dry, before he'd even noticed he had a vampire at his throat. But somehow, for some reason, after that, everything went wrong.
This should have been an easy mark. The shaman had given him a blow by blow
description of the guy he was looking for; he hadn't stopped yammering once
Spike had put his fangs on the man's little boy. Telling him where he'd find the
map he was looking for, telling him who had it, what the one he was looking for,
looked like, how... He'd finally cracked the boy's neck, he'd never promised a
thing and sucked the old shaman dry for boring him to death. Who cares about a
curse, who cares about anything? All he wanted was the Gem of Amara, and this
boy was his first class ticket to finding it. All he had to do was keep him
alive, long enough to talk and then get him to scream...
After the evening was through, he'd done both.
The watcher talked, he blabbed a thousand secrets while Spike sucked him empty, his tongue crawling over the human's cock while he whispered about loves and loss like a blow of thunder on a rainy day. He screamed while Spike blew him, his fingers down where the light didn't shine. And he was so tight, his skin so warm, even in night air, yet his hands were frozen, colder even than Spike's own.
Spike wrapped his tongue around those fingertips, licking them like a child wasted on chocolate. The watcher promised him the keys to heaven and hell, just as long as he didn't stop. He hissed possession in the watcher's oh so sensitive belly, pushing up his boy's shirt, till the first button popped. By then even the thought of killing him seemed like a sin. And he started considering having a former watcher for a minion.
He locked the watcher's hands in cuffs, like planned, laced on the inside. He'd gotten those cuffs off some adventurous couple over in Ventura. The woman had watched, chained in one of those Houdini boxes while he sliced and diced her man over his own wooden horse. They were slightly stained with drops of blood, but they still fitted nicely as he gently planted a soft kiss on each palm before locking them to the headboard. Dear old Percy lunged for his lips, sucking on his fingertips without asking. The tweed slacks came off all too easily. Spike smiled at the bulge under the watcher's boxers. The black silk didn't last much longer.
He swallowed down on Old Bailey's, sharing it with Percy. He'd eat his coat
if that were the boy's real name. Boy? No, man, all man.
But Percy screamed as he hissed that name in his ear and he wriggled so lovely when Spike tickled his feet with a fine feather. He could have had Percy's real name out of him in seconds, but he didn't even bother to try. Not when the watcher's blush spread all over his body, bringing out his blood under his veins, so tasty...
But who cares about something as silly as a human's name when the name's owner writhed under your fingers, creating lovely patches of goosebumps all over his body. Sending all that blood down in one hard lollipop.
Pure seduction is what it had been, distracting a bloke with that delicious
ass and those perfect blue eyes. Made you forget who was supposed to seduce who
here, desperate to have you forget all about the tomb of Leikos or all of it's
treasures with a wriggle and a squeal. And fool that he was, he'd fallen for it,
hook line and sinker. There was no way anyone could say no to that body as it
screamed your name when you finally allowed it to find release. By that time you
hadn't even fucked him yet.
But the worst part was being inside of him, licking that sweet little ass,
watching it bloom in front of you, while his fingers slid in oh so easily.
Greasing it up nice and soft so that it'd be good for the both of them. Percy
dearest hadn't been a virgin. Not the way he instantly rushed back to his
thrusts. Yelling more more more.
Spike couldn't help but comply.
He whispered I love you as he untied the man's hands. He didn't even know the rogue demon hunter's real name. He knew where he liked to be licked, where he screamed as you tickled him. He knew exactly where to thrust, just like that, to get him to beg for mercy. But he didn't know his name. Then he held the man in his arms, planning to turn him in the morning. Cuddling him softly as he blew I love you in his ear. Cuddling him as he drew I love you on his chest, pinching his nipples and biting his flesh with human teeth. Cuddling him gently and holding him in his arms as he fell asleep.
By the time he woke up Percy was long gone, and so were Spike's bike, his
leather and his cash. All he had left was his coat and the keys to his Desoto.
He dropped his head on the pillow, holding it for comfort.
The maps were set on the desk. Percy's scrawl on a note on top of them.
He left only a few hours later. The Gem of Amara was waiting in the valley of the sun.