RockStarPeach

Title: Breakfast In Bed
Pairing: Spike/Wes
Rating: Adult
Summary: Spike sleeps in. Then he has a very good morning. Er… evening.
Word count: 1800
A/N: This was written as a mod challenge over at nekid_spike for the lovely scripps, who asked for some Spike/Wesley.

***

Consciousness comes upon Spike slowly, like it always does in the late afternoons.

Some people – people like Wes – can transition from asleep to awake in literally the blink of an eye. Their eyelids rise, they stretch, they get out of bed and they start the day, annoyingly chipper.

Spike wants to punch those people in the face, just on principle. Truth is, he has given Wes the occasional black eye for his trouble, when he’s tried to get Spike up before he was ready. He might feel bad about that, if he was someone entirely different. As it is, he figures anyone that gets within arms reach before he’s had a full half hour to realise he’s up, deserves what they get.

Wes has had a full four months to get used to that, so Spike is currently enjoying the warm cotton feeling surrounding his head and the cool slide of the sheet under his fingers as he spreads them across the bed, stretches his face-down body into the shape of a star.

He can’t really say what time it is, or what he has to do when he moves two more feet and the warmth and comfort fade and reality sinks in, or even where he is. Not yet. No, he’s still helplessly clinging to the soft dark of the inside of his eyelids and he’s not even aware enough to think about changing that any time soon.

This is Spike’s favourite part of the day.

He thinks about opening his eyes, thinks about rolling over and sitting up, but that proves to be too much effort and ultimately he drifts back under.

***

“See, now I think you’re just faking it,” says a teasing voice that permeates his half-dream state, far away and much too close all at once. It’s hot breath over his ear, the curve of a smile against his neck and a solid hand at the base of his spine.

“Mmmm,” he groans and refuses to open his eyes, turns his face so it’s buried in the pillow. “Go ‘way.”

“Well, I could,” Wesley muses, playful tone of his voice grating on Spike’s nerves. He should be sleeping, damn it, not forcing Spike awake. “But it’s eight o’clock in the evening and well past the time you’ve gotten me used to sex. I’m sure I could find someone in shipping willing to satisfy, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d sooner just stay home. I’m out of clean socks and I’m waiting on the dryer.”

“It’s what time?” Spike asks, sitting up suddenly and completely ignoring the implication that he’s done such a good job conditioning Wes into his evening orgasms that he’s willing to go somewhere else to keep his nightly schedule.

“Eight,” Wes says and when Spike opens his eyes Wesley is lying naked next to him, reading a case file from Wolfram and Hart with a few loose papers scattered around his feet. He doesn’t even look at Spike, just circles something on the page in a red pen and adjusts his glasses. “I took the liberty of cancelling your briefing with Angel. You looked like you could use the rest.”

“But…” Spike says, still blinking himself to full wakefulness. There was some king of… Groxlar beast, maybe? Spike was supposed to take care of it, after Angel told him where to find it.

“Gunn is filling in for you,” Welsey says, closes his folder shut and shuffles the mess of papers into one neat pile. He takes it all with him when he leaves the room and comes back a minute later, pushing a mug of warmed blood into Spike’s hand and sitting down next to him.

“Breakfast in bed and the day off?” Spike asks, taking a sip. Otter. The good stuff. “Did I miss our anniversary, sweetie pie?”

Wes cracks a smile then, just the smallest slip and Spike only just then really clues into the fact that Wes is naked and Spike belly does a little flip. Wes carries himself as if he’s dressed to the nines no matter what he’s wearing, completely unselfconscious like it’s normal to walk around with his willie hanging out.

He finishes the rest of his blood in one long swallow and when he reaches over to put the mug on the table, he makes a point of leaning, tilting his neck to get a good look between Wesley’s legs.

Nothing wrong there.

“See something you like, darling?” Wes asks, mouth pulled almost tight in an almost smirk. He stands up from Spike’s side and walks over to his dresser, roots around the scattered objects on top and Spike kicks off the blankets, lays back and watches the pull and stretch of muscles along Wesley’s thighs, down his back and the clench and release of a perfectly shaped ass.

“See a lot of things I like,” Spike mumbles, shimmies so he’s settled more firmly in the bed, like he’s getting comfortable, getting ready for a show when really he knows it’s only a matter of seconds until Wesley’s back, until he throws Spike around and has his wicked way with him.

“Good,” Wes tells him, turning around once he’s got a tube of lubricant in his hand. “Because I can think of a few ways that you could say ‘thank you’ for such a thoughtful wake-up call.”

Spike can think of a few ways as well and he mulls them over, one at a time and then all at once, an orgy flash of images of the two of them, tangled together and covered in sweat.

“How do you want me?” he asks, starting to spread his legs a little to make room for Wes when he reaches the bed, but Wes smacks a sharp hand on his thigh and he immediately snaps them back together.

“Just as you are,” Wes tells him, as he twists the cap off the lube and squirts some out onto his fingers. “Though preferably hard, if you can manage it.”

Spike looks down then and yeah. His dick is lying soft and squishy up against his belly but it doesn’t take long for him to fix that. He takes himself in hand, strokes until he’s stiff and leaking, watches in silent awe as Wesley’s cock rises up from between his own legs, untouched until it’s standing tall and proud from the thatch of dark hair at the base.

Spike’s mouth waters and he wants to lean over and swallow it down, but Wes is clearly feeling a little domineering today and they’ve played this game before. It always goes better when Spike sits back and waits for Wesley’s move.

“Very good,” Wesley praises, eyes going soft even as he still doesn’t quite smile. He quickly straddles Spike’s thighs, takes his cock in his slick fist and works the lubrication onto his length with four efficient strokes. “Don’t come until I tell you,” he warns and Spike doesn’t have the chance to protest before he’s crying out loud as Wesley inches forward and sinks down onto him in one smooth motion.

“Ngh,” Spike groans, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights not to grab Wesley’s hips and pull him down harder. It would be over much too soon if he did and Wesley knows magic. It’s possible some unspeakable evil will befall pecker if he does something Wes doesn’t want right now. “God, Watcher… Come on.”

Wesley shudders slightly above him, closes his eyes and throws his head back and he raises and lowers himself, works Spike in hard and deep but so fucking slow.

“This will work better for me if you don’t make any noise,” Wes comments, his hands reaching out for Spike’s and moving them to his hips, where Spike wants. “But feel free to be as rough as you like.”

Spike can’t let go like he wants, not really, but he does clench his fingers into Wesley’s skin hard enough to bruise and he fucks up into him over and over, biting his lip to keep quiet.

He closes his eyes and he tightens every muscle in his body and thinks about Angel and slime demons and slime demons mating with Angel and pages and pages of paper work and everything he can imagine to keep his orgasm as bay while Wesley works him over.

So, it’s not his fault.

He’s tried his best, he honestly has, but Wes is amazing, feels so good around him and sounds like heaven with his breath coming short and laboured and mumbling “Yes, right there, just a little more”.

It’s not his fault when he comes, screaming and cursing and swearing revenge on his dick for betraying him like this and when Wesley stops moving, when he looks down at Spike waiting for him to finish with an eerily blank expression, Spike lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes.

“Yes,” he says, not letting go of Wesley’s hips and he keeps thrusting up into him, even as he starts to get soft. “I’m a bad, bad boy. Wot you gonna do about it?”

Bravado might not get him anywhere, but it’s really all he knows.

Wesley just raises an eyebrow and lifts off Spike, knee-walks forward and stuffs his hard cock straight into Spike’s mouth.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t need to breathe, but the relentless pounding against the back of his throat hurts like a bitch and it’s definitely going to bruise. Wes is going at him so good he’ll have trouble talking after this, never mind eating and he loves every single fucking second of it. He bids a mental farewell to those spicy buffalo wings he’s been planning on later and instead of throwing Wes off him and finishing him with a hand, he stays still and lets him pound, swallows tightly against the head of his prick when he can and before long he’s rewarded with a warm flood of jizz over his tongue and down into his belly.

Wesley jerks forward two, three more times and then falls lax, catches himself on shaky arms and heaves a heavy sigh as he rolls off Spike to lay by his side.

“Thank you for that,” he says and Spike can hear that smile creeping into his tone. “Remind me to call in sick for you more often.”

“Any time,” Spike rasps, lifting his arm to wipe the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand. “Give me a few minutes and we can get up. You must be itching to head into the office by now.”

Wesley’s kind of a workaholic and he’s only got so many resources at home.

“Take your time, Spike,” Wes says, leans over to kiss him softly on the forehead. “Perhaps we’ll try to fit in another round before the midnight meeting.”

Spike groans and rubs his neck, fingers digging into the flesh, massaging his sore muscles.

“Yeah,” he says. “But maybe next time you do the sucking, eh?”

Wesley laughs at that and rolls so he’s half on top of Spike again.

“That sounds fair,” he mumbles into Spike’s mouth and then kisses him until they both forget all about the midnight meeting.

END