Hellraiser: The Angels Beneath

Hellraiser: The Angels Beneath

By Suki Blue

Chapter 2


The evening turned to night and the television displayed a random made for T.V movie. Spike and Xander sat in silence in front of it, occasionally glancing at the screen, not really watching or caring what was on but lost in their own separate thoughts. They both had other things firmly on their minds.

Spike had been eyeing up his lover all the way home and it took every ounce of self control not to jump him right there and then in the middle of the street. But on this one occasion it probably wouldn’t have been appreciated. Xander was tense from the fight with Riley.

Spike was tempted to feel guilty. It had been him that had set Riley off. But he hadn’t meant to. Sort of. He’d asked a perfectly innocent question about Riley’s job. That was all. Except that he had to admit that he’d used his best snarky voice, but still, the question had been innocent enough. ‘How’s the job going?’ What could be more innocent? Okay, so he’d meant to get on Riley’s nerves, but he hadn’t meant for him to completely flip out.

So now Xander sat rigid with tension, pretending to watch some stupid cheesy movie staring David Schwimmer with enormously big hair.

“Mmm, feels nice,” he said as Spike worked cool hands over his shoulders.

“Yeah? How ‘bout we rid you of this shirt?” Spike suggested as he reached around to pop the buttons.

“Something’s not right,” Xander said, suddenly.

“What? Want the telly off? Couple of candles?”

“No, I mean Riley.”

“I knew what you meant, pet.”

“So you agree?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What do you think isn’t right?”

Xander turned around in Spike’s arms, pushing him back and laying them both on the couch. He trailed a finger around and around Spike’s navel, earning him the usual patented purr. Xander smiled at the expected noise and pillowed his head on Spike’s chest so he could listen closer.

“I’m just worried.”

“You don’t say, pet,” Spike said as he stroked a hand down his lover’s back. “Tell me what’s going around that fat head of yours?”

“Riley. He’s changing. He used to be so happy. We used to be great friends. Now we barely speak. I don’t understand why.”

“Mm. He’s been acting off since he moved back.”

“Do you think it has something to do with Buffy?”

“Dunno. But whatever it is, it’s definitely affecting her.”

Xander frowned and sat up.

“I’m going to talk to Riley.”

“Err…”

“Don’t try to stop me, uber-protective vamp. Something is really wrong. Maybe it’s depression? Jeez, if anyone knows about that it’s me. My mom was depressed every day of her life. The only day that she wasn’t depressed was the day she died and that was only because she was unconscious.”

Spike pulled Xander closer and let him continue. Xander would go for months at a time without mentioning either of his parents. So when he did, although it would usually be a mocking, off-the-cuff remark, it was something to sit up and take notice of. He wrapped his arms tighter around Xander’s body and stayed silent in case Xander had more to say about his mother.

“I always wondered if things would have been different for her if she’d had a friend to talk to. If Riley and Buffy are having problems, then the least I can do is let them know that I’m here to talk.”

“Makes sense, luv. Want me to come with?” Spike asked.

Xander gave him a look.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“I’m sorry, Spike. You’ll only aggravate the situation.”

“Me? Aggravate?” Spike asked with his best innocent look.

Xander ignored him. “I’ll go by myself, tomorrow. You can wait here, naked, with chocolate.”

Spike pretended to think.

“Sounds like a good plan, babe. But how about some naked goodness now?” he asked, trailing a hand down to cup Xander groin.

Xander resisted a moan and tried to fix Spike with glare. “Is that all you think about?” he asked as a smile broke out on the last word.

“No. I think about lots of stuff.”

“Like?”

“You.”

“That comes under the same category.”

“Oh, okay. How about…you naked.”

“Same category,” Xander insisted.

“Okay, then I think about you fucking me.”

“Same category.”

“Is that so? Don’t really care. Just want you to fuck me.”

Spike moved so fast that Xander barely registered it. He grabbed Xander’s wrists, rolled him off the couch and pinned him to the floor.

“Up for it, my boy?”

Xander answered by fastening his lips to Spike’s for a heated kiss. He pulled his wrists lightly against Spike’s grasp, enjoying the tight, almost painful grip.

“So my boy wants to play?”

Xander tried to answer by reaching for another kiss, but Spike pulled away and tugged Xander’s wrists above his head.

“Answer me, boy. Do you want to play?”

“Yes, Master.”

Brown eyes glazed over with passion and trust. This was Spike’s favourite game and Xander loved it. He loved feeling the strength and power of his lover; loved being pinned and restrained; loved to serve and please. He’d never played like this with any one else. He’d never trusted them enough. But he trusted Spike. His lover would never hurt him any more than he wanted to be hurt. This was only one of a thousand games. They rotated them often, but always came back to this one. Spike taking control; Xander losing it. It was a refreshing change from everyday life.

Under the eternal observation of a Slayer and her Watcher and a human lover, Spike was pretty much under the thumb. As much as he would love to drain a human dry, he couldn’t. Not because of the chip, which had long ago failed, or the presence of a Slayer. But because of Xander. Spike couldn’t kill a human, not if he wanted to keep Xander’s love. His boy would never tolerate indiscriminate killing. Even feeding on scumbags wasn’t allowed. Who were they to judge who deserved to live and who deserved to die? That was fine with Spike; he could still feed from Xander. His boy tasted a million times better than some random victim.

So to take control once in a while, to demand and command, was a wonderful treat and Spike treasured it.

For Xander, the chance to submit to Spike’s demands was almost a relief. His job as a construction foreman was stressful at times, everyone asking his advice, his permission, his word. Although Xander was more than good at his job, he sometimes wished that he could just sit back and follow someone else’s lead once in a while. It didn’t help that he was also doing a Slayer's job. Sure, Buffy showed her face and went through certain motions, but her spark and her zest for the job had long disappeared. It was Xander who took up the slack, dragging his tired body out into the night with his vampire in tow to face and slaughter any evil force that dared lurk. Xander the Vampire Slayer. He quite liked the title that Spike had given him.

So to give up control for just a short while was blissful. No worries except doing as he was told and pleasing his lover.

“Strip,” Spike commanded. “That’s it…Get on your knees, boy. Spread your legs wider. Wider. You’re not listening to me, boy. Spread them wider or you’ll feel my belt.”

Xander held his kneeled position, deliberately disobeying and knowing that his beating would be a small one. Spike would never intentionally hurt him. It would be a light whipping, but a beautiful one.

Spike quickly slid his belt from the loops of his jeans and approached his lover.

“You disobeyed me, boy.”

“I know. I’m so bad, Master. Please punish me. Please.”

“Good boy. You have done right to admit your disobedience. You will be rewarded. But first, I must punish your bad behaviour. You understand that, pet, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master. I understand Ma-”

Xander grunted as the belt connected with his buttocks. “Gods, Master, yes. Punish me, please.”

Spike struck over and over until Xander’s backside was glowing red.

“Good boy. All done now. Won’t disobey again, will you?”

“No, Master. Never.”

“Good. Now come here and take my clothes off.”

Xander quickly complied, almost ripping the clothes from Spike’s body.

“Good pet,” Spike crooned as he caressed Xander’s reddened buttocks. “Prepare me.”

“Yes, Master.”

Xander coated his fingers with lube and pressed them into Spike’s entrance. In this game Spike liked it rough and rough was exactly what he was going to get. Xander pushed, pulled and twisted his fingers, stretching just enough to allow him to penetrate quick, fast and hard.

“That’s it now, boy,” Spike said as he slid to his knees and bent over onto all fours. “Now fuck me. Ram your cock into me and fuck me hard. Want to feel you inside me. Want to feel you fucking me raw.”

“Yes, Master.”

Xander knelt behind Spike and positioned his shaft at Spike’s opening.

“Tell me, my pet. Tell me how much you want this.”

“I want this. I want to bury my cock deep inside. I want to make my Master scream…”

Xander pushed himself all the way inside Spike in one hard movement.

“Christ, pet, yes. More. Fuck me and tell me.”

“I want to fuck you,” Xander said with another hard thrust.

“I need my cock inside you.” Another thrust.

“Want to be inside you.” Another thrust.

“Want to come inside you.” Another thrust.

“Want you to come with me.” Xander reached around Spike’s body and grabbed his lover’s cock, pumping it in time with his now furious thrusts.

“Want…gods, want you, Spike. Love you.”

“Yes, Xander. Fuck, yes. Love you too.”

That was the way it always went, the game never quite reaching the end before they needed to revert back to loving reassurance.

Spike came, screaming his lover’s name, his body tensing as he pumped his seed over Xander’s hand.

Xander cried out as Spike’s body constricted around his cock, milking him of every drop of come. They collapsed in a sweaty heap on the floor, Spike turning over and pulling his lover close.

“Fucking fantastic, luv.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You alright?”

“Out of breath.”

“I suppose that means that *I* have to go make the after-sex munchies?”

“It’s only fair, lover. I served you, now you can serve me.”

“Good point, pet. Mini-pizza?”

**

Xander walked down the poorly lit street towards Buffy's and Riley’s apartment. He’d managed to ditch the patrol group after half a night of not much happening, telling them that he was tired and that he wanted an early night. What he really wanted was to talk to Riley alone. He knew that his friend would be at the apartment, skulking and brooding and with Buffy still on patrol with Spike and the others, it was a perfect opportunity.

Something behind him ‘clinked,’ but Xander ignored it. He’d learnt long ago to tell the difference between human out for a walk, cat out for a strut, stray dog looking for a bone and bloodsucking vampire. Spike had taught him well. Taught him to be aware, taught him how to fight and when to run. Xander had a stake in his pocket, a knife in his boot and a sharp pointy cross in his jacket. He was taking no chances. If he ever got himself killed because he hadn’t been properly armed, Spike would murder him.

Xander reached the door to the apartment and waited, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Maybe Buffy and Riley wouldn’t appreciate him butting in. Well, he wasn’t going to give them a choice. He was their friend, therefore it was his job. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Xander waited for what seemed like an age. There were no sounds from within the apartment and Xander was about to give up when the locks on the door clicked and it slowly opened.

The smell of alcohol hit him first. Jack Daniels. Spike’s mouth often tasted and smelled of JD, but it was a deep, sweet smell, mixed with the aroma of cigarettes and soap. This smell was putrid, stale and mixed with a pungent stink of old sweat. Xander noted that Riley was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

“Hey! Only me. I was just passing…on my way to, uh, on my way to the, erm, place. And I thought I would drop by.”

Shit. he thought. Should have rehearsed that.

Riley opened the door and eyed up the cans dangling from Xander’s left hand. Okay, so bringing beer to a potential alcoholic probably wasn’t the most marvellous plan in the world, but it was a sure way to get in the door.

“You brought beer.”

“Um, yeah. That was where I was going. To the beer place,” Xander said with a cheesy grin. “Is it okay to come in? You’re not busy or anything, are you?”

Riley stared, his drunken brain trying to register the question and the situation.

“Yes, I mean no. Come in, Xander. Please.”

**

The talk started well. General conversation and exchanges of work stories kept things going for a good hour. Riley drank down four of the beers to Xander’s two and had since retrieved a sizable bottle of vodka for dessert.

Xander nursed his drink, sipping slowly and trying to stay completely sober for his task. A drunken Xander was never a tactful one. The conversation stayed entirely pleasant until Xander made his fatal mistake. Buffy.

“All she does is nag and whine and sometimes I get so sick of it. That girl is so self involved.”

Here it comes. Xander Harris flushes the chance of a calm conversation straight down the toilet.

“I don’t think that’s fair. She’s only trying to help you…”

“Help me? Fucking help me?! I don’t need any fucking help!”

“I didn’t say that you did, I…”

“Screw you, Harris. I know exactly what you’re thinking, that I’m a fuck up, a loser. You think I deserve everything I get.”

“No way! Why would I think that?”

“Because I’m scum and you all know it.”

“No, Riley. No one thinks that.”

“They do, they do, they do. They tell me. Fucking…constantly, in my fucking face, in my fucking head! Round and round. They tell me.”

“Riley, we’re your friends. We can help you.”

“No! I know what you want! You want to take it from me!”

“I don’t understand…”

“Liar! You want the box. But it’s mine, all fucking mine. I keep it. I bear it. It’s inside me. I’ll kill you before I let you take it from me.”

“Box? Riley, I don’t want anything from you, please believe me. I just want you to talk to me.”

“No, no, no. I know you, Xander. You’re sick. You fuck a vampire, for Christ’s sake. You’re a fucking twisted pervert. I know you want it, just like me. Well, you can’t have it!”

Riley made a lunge at Xander and swung his fist at his jaw. The blow caught Xander by surprise, his brain never quite registering that his friend would even consider hitting him. He staggered back and clutched at his stinging face. It certainly wasn’t the hardest punch Riley could have delivered but it hurt like hell anyway.

“Ah, shit, Riley! What the hell…?”

Riley sank to his knees, his eyes shutting as drunken unconsciousness pulled him in. “You…I…It’s time. I have to open the box. God help me, Xander, I have to open it.”

With the decision made, Riley slumped forwards on the floor and surrendered to darkness.

TBC…