Scent - darkhavens

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Scent

Xander had been feigning sleep on Buffy's sofa to avoid being nagged into helping the rest of the Scooby gang as they pored over ancient Latin texts searching for references to demons who projectile-vomited blue bile onto their victims so they would be nice and pre-digested before they finished dying.

The feigning had worked so well he felt practically invisible and was just on the verge of falling asleep for real when the door opened and Xander felt his senses come alive. Spike. It was Spike. Spike was here. He could smell him, leather, smoke and hair gel, with a dark undertone of copper.

Swallowing noiselessly, Xander prayed that his slumped position on the sofa would disguise any involuntary alteration to the landscape of his lap. Though if it was noticed that he was, don't blush! partially aroused, he hoped they would think he was just having a very good, or very bad, dream.

He concentrated on schooling his breathing and somehow managed to not yelp when he felt the sofa cushion next to his dip as Spike threw himself down.

The vampire's duster was now draped partly across Xander's groin and he could feel every crease and fold in the leather, knowing the contact, and the overpowering scent of leather, Spike, would have him aching in seconds.

Then he felt the length of a hard muscled thigh press firmly against his as Spike settled in and spread his booted feet for maximum effect in his patently cocky slouch.

"So, how come Sleeping Beauty here isn't helping you all with your homework?"

The amused growl had Xander holding his breath for one painful second. Had that been a barely hidden taunt? Did the peroxide terror know he was faking sleep? Should he fake wake and move away from the thigh that was, oh gods! slowly, slowly, pressing against his own thigh before falling back, only to return, each time more forceful.

Xander almost swallowed his tongue at the heated lust the rhythm produced, and the slight movements it caused in the drape of leather over his now wildly throbbing cock. He completely missed Buffy telling Spike to shut up and stay out of their way while they worked.

The scent of arousal mingled with raw fear coming off the boy in waves had Spike rock hard in a second, and he was glad of the weight of leather in his lap. He may very well have a small problem with impulse control, but he could still anticipate the problems that could cause, and his leather duster could hide, had hidden, a multitude of sins. It was more than up to the task of disguising a pair of attention-seeking erections.

As expected, the Scooby gang soon settled back into their task, ignoring both the barely tolerated peroxide prince of darkness and the Slayer's young acolyte who was still vainly pretending to be asleep.

Spike stayed silent for several minutes, watching Xander's face in his peripheral vision as he continued to flex and relax his thigh. There was no way the whelp could remain unaffected, Spike knew, because his slow, subtle movement was having a powerful effect even on him.

His nostrils flared at the sudden scent of pre-cum rising from the boy next to him, and he was half-tempted to pounce, here and now, just so he could have one taste of the boy before the Slayer staked him. It would almost be worth it...

But he had a plan to follow.

In one smooth, boneless, movement he slid sideways, draping himself shoulder to ankle along Xander's right side, his head now resting in the crook of the younger man's neck, cool lips against hot throat.

With one barely audible growl he managed to hold Xander motionless, breathless, totally incapable of even considering a lunge for 'freedom'.

"So, pet, how loud are you going to scream when I come inside you?"