Who's A Pretty Boy?
They were the sexiest pair of pants he'd ever worn or dreamed of wearing. They clung to him like a second, leather skin.
Laced in matching thongs, from rounded anklebones to narrow hips, they exposed to public view a hundred perfect little triangles of pale flesh.
Spike growled as Xander twirled.
"Gonna get you inked and holed, luv. Show you off, my pretty, wicked boy. Everyone you meet'll want a taste. A solid, chunky P.A. in that cock'll stand out nicely. Matching silver rings in ears and nips. Some demon artwork scrolled across your chest..."
"You. Naked. Now."
"Is it gonna hurt?"
"Is it gonna bleed?"
Spike sighed and rolled over to glare at his naked, pouting childe.
"Might leak a bit, yeah, but nothing major. Why? You suddenly not into pain and gore any more?"
Xander dipped a finger into the blood pooled between his collarbones and began to trace arcane sigils and crazy squiggles between his Sire's beaded nipples.
"Just wondered if I should risk my leather pants or play it safe with a pair of jeans I don't mind losing when you drag me into an alley and shred them so we can fuck."
"We're a matching set, Xan, me and thee. Reckon we might jingle when we fuck if we don't tape down all those dangling shiny bits we've had put in? Imagine what we could do with a length of chain or two between us. Every time we moved we'd tug on something..."
Spike reached out and gently tweaked a freshly pierced nipple, the captured bead rolled beneath his thumb. He grinned as Xander arched into his touch; so bloody sensitive he was sure the boy could come from this alone.
But while that might be fun another time, he had plans...