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OMG! I've written a Spack!
Ha ha, just wrote this AtS/Pirates of the Caribbean crossover fic for the new comm
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vampiracy (which is such an awesome idea!). I say Spack - it's also Spill, uh...Spillack?...and there are references to Jack/Will and Spike/Angel. Might as well get my money's worth... Hee!Actually, I'm a little nervous about it - never written POTC before, nor a crossover *bites nails*. So, hope you enjoy!
Title: A Jolly Roger
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ats/POTC crossover: Spike/Jack, Spike/Jack/Will, mentions of Jack/Will and Spike/Angel
Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter what the voices in my head say. *pouts*
Warnings: M/m slash (well, duh!), BDSM, bloodplay, language, rum....
Summary: A minor accident lands Spike aboard the Black Pearl, where he meets a charismatic pirate. Oh, how to pass the time....?
Spike cursed loudly as he landed on his ass on a hard wooden floor. Oh, he was going to be having some words with that bloody pouf when (and if) he got back: how had he allowed himself to be guilt-tripped into being the guinea pig for their latest magical “project”, or, rather, “disaster”? Sure, he’d caused a minor incident a couple of weeks ago involving the odd rabbit and a few other mystical happenings. Well, OK, two incidents, but even so!
He suddenly realised that he was sitting in sunshine. He leaped to his feet, shouting and beating desperately at his duster, only to discover that he was not in fact the expected pillar of flame.
“I’m not on fire!” he exclaimed in relief and delight, before realising that he was not alone. Slowly, he turned to face a very peculiar-looking man in what appeared to be a pirate get-up. The man’s expression was far too nonchalant to fall into the realm of “surprised”, despite the sudden appearance of the blond on his ship.
“Indeed you are not. An excellent observation! Care for some rum?” he asked, proffering the bottle in an expansive gesture.
Spike grinned. He thought he was going to enjoy this little excursion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Although Jack Sparrow had appeared to listen to what Spike was saying, he was taking the news that his new shipmate was an alternative universe vampire from the future a little bit too well for the blond to be sure. He said as much.
“Well, on the flip side of that rather far-fetched coin, one might suggest that you are taking the news of me being an alternative universe pirate from the past equally well,” he replied in his rather enticing pirate-esque brogue, taking another slug from the bottle.
“Yeah, but weird stuff like this happens to me all the time,” explained Spike, casting his eyes over the man before him. It was frankly impressive that he was managing to pull off the dirty, be-dreadlocked look so strikingly.
“I hope you’re not suggesting that only commonplace events occur aboard the Pearl?” huffed Jack, thinking of Aztec gold, a certain beating heart, undead monkeys and a Kraken.
Spike faltered a little. “Are you tryin’ to tell me that anything this…unconventional has happened here recently?”
Jack made a dismissive gesture. “Compared to my last trip to Tortuga, this is positively humdrum.”
Spike laughed a little hesitantly, wondering whether or not to be offended, and looked out towards the ocean. It was overwhelming: he had never seen water like this in the sunshine, and he already knew that he would miss it for the rest of his life once it was gone. Jack noticed the way that his gaze was avidly devouring the diamond sparkles of the reflected sun on the turquoise surface.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He hadn’t as yet formed an opinion regarding Spike’s story, though as explanations for appearing out of thin air went he supposed it was fairly satisfactory. However, he was already quite certain how he felt about the way the vampire looked as he stared rapturously out to sea. And so was little Jack.
Spike turned back to him, almost reluctantly. His fixation on the ocean dimmed somewhat, however, when he saw the way that the pirate was devouring him with his eyes. He didn’t have his usual vampire senses (for which he was somewhat grateful as Jack apparently hadn’t been introduced to a bar of soap in the recent past), but he didn’t need them to understand that look perfectly.
He had been aboard the ship all of ten minutes and already the tanned, weathered, dishevelled Captain looked all set to make a brazen pass at him. Things were looking up.
“So, you pretty much just sail around nicking stuff, then?” he asked after a pause, reaching out for the rum. Jack only looked a little reluctant as he handed it over, leaning one arm on the guardrail.
“You make it sound trivial when you put it like that,” he grumbled. “It’s a vocation.”
“Dishonesty?” Spike raised his eyebrows.
“Piracy, luv,” replied the Captain with a dazzling smile, indicating his deep affection for taking what wasn’t rightfully his.
Spike’s throat worked as he swallowed. He experienced a very strange sensation as equal measures of lust and nervousness coursed through his system. Jack had seemed harmless enough, swaying around and making somewhat effete gestures, but Spike had just caught a glimpse of what he really was.
He noticed the look of fear-tinged anticipation in the vampire’s eyes, which shot straight to his cock. Those deep blue of those orbs could rival the ocean itself. Spike was in a strange, tight black top, which whilst entirely impractical for being at sea did have the upside of showing off his defined form very nicely.
“Want a tour of the ship?” he offered, moving in close and invading Spike’s personal space. He didn’t seem to mind.
The vampire had a sneaky suspicion that this might involve a perfunctory tour around the deck, followed by a very detailed exploration of the Captain’s cabin. “Sure,” he agreed, in a slightly less manly way than he had intended.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A short while later, they were stood by the helm, which Jack was caressing fondly in a way that Spike found quite distracting.
“See there? That’s where we’re headed: the lads fancy a few days at port,” explained Jack, gesturing to some land in the distance. There was a young man at the prow of the ship, also looking towards their destination, with dark hair and long, supple limbs. Spike gazed past him, out over the jewelled water, and saw the rugged island through the heat-mist.
“Mmm, pretty.”
“Yes, he is rather, isn’t he?” grinned the Captain and Spike’s jaw dropped in surprise and some embarrassment. He had not been referring to the young man, although now that the lad had turned round to see who Jack was talking to, Spike could see that in fact he *was* rather pretty.
“His name’s William Turner, and he’s a blacksmith. One of the finest, ain’t that right, m’boy?” he called out, grinning.
William Turner walked closer to them, smiling almost teasingly at the Captain. “I thought that you kept insisting that I was a pirate?”
“Me, lad? Never. You’re far too principled to be a pirate, as *you* keep insisting.”
Will just smiled. He sure didn’t look all that principled, Spike reflected, running his eyes over the half-unbuttoned shirt, the sparkling eyes and the way that his hair was escaping from his ponytail. He looked more like a debauched innocent. The vampire thought he knew who might have done that to him.
“This is Spike,” introduced Jack, noting Will’s curious glances at the oddly-attired stranger. “He’s…not from around these parts.”
“Obviously,” he replied, waiting for a more comprehensive explanation. How on earth had he gotten aboard anyway?
“He’s a creature of the night,” Jack grinned, allowing his gaze to wander over him in an obscene fashion that made Spike feel as though his grubby hands were trailing all over him.
“Not today,” he contradicted. “Apparently, today I am a…well, a creature of the day.”
“Oh, well that’s just fantastic! And look at that – it *is* the day, which would therefore put you in your element, which as we all know is the elemental place to be. So, shall we?” he asked, gesturing in a general below-deck direction with a winning smile.
“You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Well, from what you have said, you might disappear at any moment. Or, if this is (as I half expect) a rum-induced hallucination, then I might wake up at any moment. Either way, the imminent any-momentness of us losing our opportunity is a time pressure that cannot be overlooked. Savvy?”
Will was looking at them in bemusement. He had no idea what was happening, but that was hardly unusual where Jack was concerned so it didn’t worry him overly much. The best that he could decipher, the pirate had picked up an attractive stranger – who might or might not be mentally disturbed – and was now trying to get into his britches. Once again, hardly unusual where Jack was concerned.
“If I was ever in a room with you and Harris at the same time, I think I’d stake myself,” Spike muttered, envisioning a battle of the babble that made him shudder.
“Harris? But that’s absurd: I left him hanging upside down in Kingston after he tried to steal my hat. Now we both know that you are talking nonsense.”
“Uh…I think this might be a different Harris,” replied Spike, wondering whether the man was altogether stable. That kid William didn’t seem too concerned by his conversational weirdness however, so he supposed he was fairly safe.
“Ah, well that’s alright then. Now,” he said as he reached forwards and ghosted a hand down Spike’s arm, “What say we take a peek below deck?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. He had to admit that he was being rather fast, even by his own dubious standards, but Spike had materialised out of thin air, landing practically in his lap, and he had decided to interpret that as a gift from someone or somewhere; a gift which he had better rapidly avail himself of before the giver realised his error and took it back.
The vampire looked deeply into those dark, kohl-ringed eyes, seeing the promise of something hot, dirty, possibly illegal and entirely unbridled. He could feel the sun on his back, warming his dead skin, and his head felt ready to spin off his body entirely with the heady, unfamiliar atmosphere and the gentle listing of the Black Pearl. “Yeah. I’m quite intrigued as to wot you’ve got down there,” he smirked, running his gaze down the pirate’s body.
“Jack! What do you think you are doing?” demanded Will, closing the remaining distance between them. “You have no idea who this man is. He could try to kill you for all that you know! Oh, why do I even bother?” he said in exasperation as Jack just grinned at him, showing his gold teeth.
“William, don’t be that way. But you know, you do make an excellent point. P’raps you should come with us, eh? That way, you can make sure that he gets up to no funny business of the assassination variety.”
Will’s annoyed expression faltered. He looked between Jack and Spike, trying to ignore the nagging sensation that he was a tasty little minnow in the presence of two sharks. “Uh…I’m sure you can take care of yourself. Someone needs to…stay up here and mind the ship,” he finally replied, taking a step backwards and stumbling over a bollard to fall to the deck.
Spike stepped forwards, his face predatory as he offered a hand to haul the young man to his feet. Once Will was up, he didn’t let go, but pulled him momentarily closer, their faces barely six inches apart. “Well, if you change your mind, feel free to come and keep me in line,” he said softly, eyes glinting with lust and amusement.
The young man nodded almost imperceptibly, hurrying off as soon as Spike released him. Feeling disturbed, he took up his position at the prow again, subtly attempting to adjust his trousers into a more comfortable position.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I take it you’ve been with him then?” asked Spike as they headed into the cabin, feeling a moment of loss as he went from the sun to the shade.
“Who? Young William? Well, I thought I ought to make some use of him. Most of the time, I might as well have a lass on board, what with his delicate sensibilities and personal hygiene and whatnot, but between the sheets…Suffice to say that has rather more testosterone than I had given him credit for.”
“Yeah, Angel’s like that. Always mincing around like a hair-gelled nancy boy, but he’s a tiger in the sack.”
“Angel?”
“Oh, he’s my…” Spike paused, at a loss as to how to finish the sentence. Angel was his what? Certainly not his boyfriend, nor even his lover. Fuck buddy? Pouf of a Sire? Vampire sex toy?
“No need to explain to me, luv. Some things just are,” shrugged Jack, walking through the cluttered room and not stopping until he reached the bed. Spike followed him.
The vampire couldn’t believe the complete lack of angst that was accompanying this little encounter. He wanted sex, the pirate wanted sex…so they were going to have sex. No fanfare, no painful conversations, no denial or accusations. It was a bloody revelation! Who knew that shagging could actually be this simple?
Jack reverently removed his hat and hung it carefully on the bedpost, before admiring Spike as he fiddled with his beard. “You’re very pretty,” he smiled.
“Yeah, thanks,” responded Spike, not actually sure that he wanted to be pretty. Surely, he was too macho for that? He stayed still as Jack stepped in close to him, reaching out with heavily ringed hands to caress his chest. He seemed slightly mesmerised by the tee-shirt, or perhaps it was the hard slabs of muscle underneath.
They were near enough the same height, so it was almost too easy to lean forwards just that little bit further and find that their lips were touching. Jack flicked out his tongue, deftly parting Spike’s lips, and the vampire suddenly found that lust slammed through him, as if a dam inside had burst. He moaned and grabbed two fistfuls of the pirate’s shirt, drawing him close as he crushed their mouths together and thrust his tongue deep inside. He tasted sour and tangy and delicious.
Jack brought his hand up and clamped it around Spike’s neck, tangling his fingers through the soft curls that had started to form at the nape thanks to the humid Caribbean air. He stepped in impossibly closer, grinding the entire length of his body against the vampire, and relishing both the coiled strength that emanated from him and the feel of his rock hard cock. He suddenly pulled his face back slightly, licking his lips.
“You’re cold,” he stated, eyes twinkling as he decided that he liked the sensation. Spike had felt warm in his embrace, but he realised now that it was just second-hand heat from the rays of the sun.
“Yeah, well, I’m dead,” responded Spike with a slight grin.
“Ah, that old chestnut,” replied the pirate before kissing him again. He reached for the buttons on Spike’s shirt only to remember that there weren’t any. After a couple of seconds of fruitless fumbling, he realised that he would have to either break the kiss to yank it off over the vampire’s head or tear it in half. He gleefully opted for the latter.
Wondering why on earth the destruction of his clothes always seemed to make him even harder, Spike’s hands scrambled to divest Jack of his clothing. He seemed to be making no headway at all, and a quick glance revealed why.
“Wot’s this bloody contraption then?” he demanded, pulling agitatedly at the leather vest and various buckles and belts in an attempt to get through to the flesh, or at the very least the shirt, underneath.
Losing all patience, particularly when Jack did nothing more helpful than grin at him and palm his crotch, Spike snatched the knife from the pirate’s side and pressed the tip of it to the exposed area of skin along his collar bone. Jack looked slightly wary, although there was far more lust than fear in his gaze and he didn’t release his hold on Spike.
“Are you planning on doing something with that?” he asked as he felt the cold metal slide slowly southwards.
“Reckon I am. Maybe several things,” he replied in a husky whisper, looking every inch the Big Bad. Jack found himself secretly delighted, although understandably nervous, to be in the presence of someone who might actually be as dangerous as he was for a change.
Spike was surprised when Jack gripped his wrist tightly and used the leverage to press the tip of the knife harder against his chest, so that it broke the skin. He grinned broadly and continued to slice the knife downwards until he was cutting through fabric as well, watching the lengthening red line that he left in his wake. Once he had cut enough of Jack’s clothing to expose his hard, tanned torso, he grasped the material and ripped it the rest of the way.
As Jack shrugged out of the ruined clothes, Spike dipped his head and licked along the length of the shallow cut he had made, allowing the small beads of blood to roll along his tongue as he relished the taste of copper and salt.
Jack gasped at the pleasurable sting, then grabbed platinum hair and yanked Spike’s face back up to his, chasing the taste of his own blood and sweat. “Why don’t you get on the bed?” he suggested, although it sounded more like a demand.
“Why don’t you?” countered Spike, bringing up the knife he was still holding and pressing it to Jack’s throat.
“Well, since you put it like that…” said Jack, smiling even as the adrenaline ran a searing course through his body.
As the Captain crawled onto the mattress, Spike felt a gasp rise in his throat. Much of his back and arms were covered in intricate tattoos, and it couldn’t possibly look any sexier. Damn, he had a thing for tats. Barely resisting the urge to leap on the pirate and lick him like a lollipop, he helpfully leaned forwards and tugged his boots off for him.
“Why, thank you. Most kind,” said Jack, admiring the way that Spike’s muscles rippled as he pulled.
“Welcome,” he replied, toeing off his own boots and watching with avid interest as Jack passed the time by removing his britches. He had some scars on his body, but this seemed to increase rather than mar his appeal. He was wrapped in hard, tight cords of muscle and had a nice, large dick that rose proudly from its nest of black curls to bob against his toned stomach.
“You’ve stopped moving,” pointed out the man, a little impatient that Spike appeared to have abruptly come to a halt in the removal of his clothing.
“Huh? Oh, right,” he said sheepishly, finally managing to blink and hurriedly perform his patented strip-out-of-my-jeans-before-you-can-bli
Jack’s eyes roved hungrily over the vampire’s body. The expanse of skin was so pale and smooth, and entirely perfect: he wanted to run his tongue over every inch of it. His face was like a piece of fine artwork – or at least how the pirate imagined a piece of fine artwork would be. He’d never really come across one and if he had, he’d probably have just liberated it from its owner. And then there was his cock: beautiful. Looking at the light brown curls, he realised that collar and cuffs didn’t match, which made him smile.
Feeling the rising need within him, Spike decided to dispense with any other formalities and leaped onto the pirate, kissing him with renewed ferocity. They ground their naked skin together, sliding easily thanks to sweat and pre-cum. Jack wrapped his arms around Spike’s back, pulling him close and allowing him to get extra leverage to thrust their dicks together.
When Jack deftly rolled them over, Spike was too absorbed in sensation to notice. He had never been with a human male, apart from the odd forced encounter with victims when he and Angelus had hunted together, and he couldn’t even remember those clearly. He was fascinated by the tickle of Jack’s beard, the roughness of his hands and the incredible heat pouring from his erection. It wasn’t until the pirate roughly shoved two fingers inside him that he realised where this was going.
“Hey!” he shouted, attempting to raise the knife threateningly, only to find that it no longer appeared to be in his hand.
“Problem?” inquired Jack, working his fingers relentlessly.
“I’ll be going on top,” he growled, concentrating very hard on not allowing his menace to be dimmed by trailing off into a groan.
“Bloody well won’t, mate. I’m the Captain!” pointed out Jack, somewhat outraged.
“So wot? I’m the fucking vampire!” he snarled, reaching up to shove the pirate off him. One push, during which Jack managed to remain very firmly in residence, revealed to Spike that he had lost his vampire strength. Presumably his gifts were gone to compensate for the fact that he could walk in the sun. He wondered whether or not he had a reflection and resisted the almost overwhelming urge to rush and find a mirror.
“So you say,” mused Jack in a tone that implied he had a suspicion that it might all be a big con.
Spike began to wonder whether or not he actually *was* a vampire here, or just some chilly, delusional head-case who *thought* he was one. Experimentally, he morphed his face.
“Gads!” yelled the pirate, leaping away from Spike and almost tumbling off the bed in the process. “Alright, you *are* the fucking vampire. I’m terribly sorry for doubting you!”
Spike quickly switched back, trying not to look smug and grabbing for Jack before he fell. “Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly as he pulled the wary man close. “I’m sorry for startling you – I just wanted to see if I was still one of the fang gang.”
“S’alright,” he replied doubtfully, casting a glance round to see if he could locate his discarded rum. For all his concern, he hadn’t lost his erection however, so all was well that ended well.
Spike kissed him again and Jack soon relaxed against him, reaching down to grip both of their cocks in his rough hand. He pressed his lips to the vampire’s face and throat, dragging his tongue over the areas wetly.
“Oh, fuck…” whispered Spike, arching up.
“I thought that was still in dispute?” grinned the Captain against his chest as the flicked his tongue out to taste a nipple.
“I thought I had conclusively settled the dispute?” countered Spike with a ‘humph’ of displeasure that was rapidly changed to a profound groan as Jack licked his navel.
“No, luv. The fact that you are a vampire does not change, nor in fact has any bearing whatsoever on, the fact that I am the Captain of this ship. I never submit to anyone, though I’ll wager that you do – to this Angel of yours,” he said slyly.
“That’s not the point!” spluttered Spike, finding it even more difficult than usual to form a coherent argument as the man’s hot, spicy breath ghosted over his straining erection.
Jack poked out his tongue and ran it achingly slowly and with painfully light contact up Spike’s shaft, moving back when the wide-eyed vampire tried to thrust forwards into him. “Well then, this puts us at rather a stalemate,” he stated, sitting back on his haunches and trying to stifle a wicked grin.
Spike sighed in agitation and frustration. At this bloody rate, no one was going to get shagged, and *someone* sure as hell needed to be. “Oh, all bleeding right then!” he growled, grabbing a considerable fistful of unwashed hair and pulling the pirate’s head forcefully back down to his groin.
The vampire could feel Jack’s smirk of triumph around his cock, but there was no time to get annoyed before his world exploded into blinding flashing lights as the hot, wet sucking began. Spike found himself hopelessly turned on by the warmth, the obscene sounds, the calloused hand at his balls and the intrusive fingers scissoring inside him. He bucked his hips forwards, still keeping a tight grip on Jack.
The pirate wondered in passing whether it was altogether dignified for the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, Scourge of the Caribbean, to be getting quite so much pleasure from having his face fucked by a pretty lad who may or may not be a figment of his imagination. Deciding that it was a moot point, he continued to swallow the rigid flesh, putting his nimble fingers to good use.
Spike suddenly realised that he was on the verge of coming, and he pulled Jack away from him. He responded by gripping the vampire’s wrist, lightning-quick, and jabbing his thumb into the pressure point that he knew was there, causing Spike to reflexively lose his hold.
“Hey!” he shouted in outrage, shaking his hand in an attempt to ease the sudden flare of pain. The outrage turned to ecstasy towards the end of the yell as the pirate immediately used his liberty to return to the task of sucking Spike’s very essence out through his cock. Further protests became impossible as he felt the deep, familiar tingling through his stomach and sac, signalling the beginning of his orgasm. As the pleasure broke like a tide within him, washing from its centre in his groin out through his entire body in seemingly endless waves, he called out hoarsely and arched up into Jack.
The Captain rode out Spike’s erratic movements, rubbing his own cock against the bed-sheets as he did so. As the semen flooded his throat in powerful jets, he moaned appreciatively. Even this was cool, and it had a metallic tang that should have been unpleasant, but wasn’t.
“Jack,” breathed Spike in a tone that was half gratitude and half accusation.
“Don’t worry, mate, there will be more before I’m through. Thought I owed you that one, though,” he explained as he crawled up Spike’s body predatorily.
“Owed? Wot for?” wondered Spike, feeling as though he could barely move in his post-climatic haze.
“This,” grinned Jack, swiftly reaching past Spike’s head and underneath a flat looking pillow. His hand re-emerged holding a length of rope.
Spike’s eyes flew wide in surprise and he tried to move away, but was brought to a swift halt as Jack held something cold and sharp to his throat, answering the question of where the knife had gotten to.
“Not going anywhere, luv,” he said huskily. “I figure that perhaps young William is right and I should exercise some measure of caution. After all, as you have so emphatically proven, you *are* a vampire, and I’m quite partial to my black blood residing in my veins.”
Jack had managed to look such an enticing combination of dangerously menacing and supremely hot during his little speech that Spike’s dick was already hard again. The man’s body was surprisingly heavy, keeping him immobile, and the wicked blade of the knife had already broken the skin at his neck. He had thought that Angel was the only one who could bring out his yen to be submissive, but apparently he was wrong.
“Fair enough. But you’ll need both hands to tie me, and without the threat of the knife, who knows whether I’ll behave?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and making a bad-boy pout. Jack just grinned back: they both knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
After securing him tightly and kissing him once more in such an intensely erotic way that Spike was glad he was already lying down, the pirate unceremoniously flipped him over and he felt the blade travel down his spine, its tip nicking him in several places. He managed to stay immobile until Jack’s tongue dragged over the same path, sending tingles and fiery little jolts dancing along his nerve endings. When it finished its journey to the base of his spine and then continued down between his ass cheeks, he involuntarily bucked backwards. He was shocked by the brutal slap he received on his right thigh in response.
“Still!” commanded Jack, smacking the other side as well for good measure.
Spike was a little embarrassed to find himself almost whimpering as the Captain’s tongue delved deep inside him and he struggled to remain stationary. He had never felt anything like it: Jack’s hot, wet mouth invaded him entirely, his tongue pressing in all the way to the root and dancing around like a live wire, whilst sometimes his rough fingers joined it, pressing, rubbing and stretching. By the time he pulled away, Spike felt about ready to pass out and he had to wonder whether he had turned into a complete fucking sissy as part of his walk-in-the-sun holiday package.
Not giving the vampire any time to recover, Jack braced himself against the back of his thighs and plunged his cock inside him in one harsh, searing movement. Truth be known, he was over-excited by the vampire’s body and his highly appreciative responses, and he just couldn’t wait to get on with the main feature. It had been obvious from the blond’s kisses, caresses and blasé attitude just how very experienced he was, and his first responsive thrust back against Jack was as dizzyingly graceful, perfectly-timed and gasp-inducing as the pirate had expected.
Jack’s sexual technique was like a full sensory assault, and at least a 9 on the Richter Scale. He pummelled into Spike, licking, biting and sucking his shoulders and back as he slapped his ass and reached around to pull on his nipples and pinch his alabaster skin. The vampire was soon in a heady froth of excitement, not quite sure which touches he was pressing into and which he was pulling away from as he hissed in pain and pleasure in equal measure.
Spike was slamming back against him with enough force to bruise the front of his hips and thighs, and the delicious clenching of his muscles was driving him insane. Plus, it was very obvious that the blond not only liked pain, but could take more of it than normal men, so Jack was really pushing the boundaries…and it was hot enough to cross his eyes and roll them back in his head. Not sure how much more he could take, but more than happy to find out, he briefly withdrew from Spike and rolled him roughly onto his back.
Spike growled at him, and he backhanded him across the face, almost coming then and there as he witnessed the blue fire of fury and lust flare brightly before the eyes closed tightly in ecstasy. Shoving the vampire’s legs wide apart and hooking one over his shoulder, he plunged back inside, still varying his touches from caresses to cruel pinches. He leaned right over Spike, crushing his one knee back against his chest, as he reclaimed his mouth.
In a distant, unimportant way, Spike supposed he must be vaguely outraged by what the pirate – comparatively so young, so weak and so *human* – was subjecting him to. However, even if he did have any hard and fast rules on this, which he wasn’t entirely sure that he did, then he was more than prepared to make a great big bloody exception. As Jack’s restless tongue slipped back into his mouth, running over every part of his lips, teeth, inner cheeks and palate in a way that was almost obscene, he ground his dick up into his muscled stomach.
There was such a potent energy rolling off Spike, and a tantalising aura of strength and power, that Jack felt as though he was riding a temporarily tamed beast, and he was somehow grateful for the restraints. Relishing the supremacy and control, the pirate gripped the vampire’s tied wrists and used the hold as leverage to pump even faster within him. He was teetering on the edge, and when Spike shocked him by darting his head up and sinking his fangs into his neck, he tumbled straight over it.
As he had expected, Jack came when he bit into him: one thing the bleeding Watcher’s Council never seemed to jot down in their books was the strong bond between sex and drinking, and the way that they could heighten each other. If the vampire wanted them to, that was. And he did. Jack’s blood was unlike anything that he had ever tasted: spice and salt, seemingly fifty percent rum, tinged dark and heavy by the corrupting, decadent life that he led. He tasted sea and sunshine, bad food and repressed virtue, and the lingering yeasty musk of a sexually transmitted disease that he had finally fought off several months ago.
Jack shouted hoarsely as his entire frame was wracked by one of the most blinding orgasms of his life. It seemed to go on forever, drawn out perhaps by the amazingly sensual pulling at his neck, and he spurted streams of hot cum inside the beautiful creature beneath him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jack! Is everything alright?” yelled Will, bursting into the cabin. “I heard you shouting,” he added quickly, at least having the decency to blush at the fact that the only reason he had heard anything was because he had been listening at the door.
“William, shut that bloody door!” snarled Jack. “We both know that you are quite well aware of the difference between my shouts of pain and of pleasure, so either admit that you want to join in and get your arse over here, or continue being a wittering imbecile and kindly shut yerself on t’other side of said door!”
“I most certainly do not!” he said indignantly, promptly closing the banging door. He remained on the inside of it.
“As you can see, I haven’t killed him quite yet,” remarked Spike sardonically from his bound position.
Will looked them over. Spike, all the discolourations of a rough session evident on his body, was stretched out beneath Jack, who was still holding him down, blood from the open wound on his neck dripping onto the bed.
“But, much obliged anyway for the ‘rescue’,” muttered Jack sarcastically as Will approached the bed, his erection very clearly visible through his britches.
As soon as Will was within reaching distance, Jack grabbed him none too gently by the neck and dragged him down onto the bed.
"Since you're here, you may as well make yerself useful," he growled, although Spike could hear the affection behind his tone. "Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use on Spike? And then we'll have the added bonus that you won't be able to talk."
Will didn't protest as Jack, still buried inside the vampire and already hardening again, stripped him out of his clothes, mostly via the means of tearing them at the seams. The boy allowed his eyes to roam greedily over the blond, a slight (and distinctly unprincipled, noted Spike without much surprise) grin touching the corners of his mouth.
"Looks like I may be a little late for keeping you in line," he commented, gaze flicking over the rope binding Spike's wrists and the marks peppering his stunning white body.
"Oh I don't know; I always find that a good suck job keeps me nice and compliant," replied Spike, leering wickedly. The boy was tanned and gorgeous, like some kind of Adonis. The smithing and sailoring had given him long, hard coverings of muscle but he was far less weathered than Jack, and his face was smooth and boyish, the innocent look nicely offset by the roguish goatee.
"It's true," agreed Jack. "That was how I got him in this rather compromising position in the first place." He had sat back on his haunches to give Will access to the vampire, dragging Spike’s ass up into his lap as he went so that they didn’t break their connection.
"Well, I had better do my part, then," said Will dryly with a pretended sense of duty. He lapped his tongue around the head of Spike’s cock, keeping twinkling eyes fixated on his face. The vampire moaned, and as Jack began to thrust leisurely within him again from his kneeling position, he writhed helplessly.
Spike had been very close to coming anyway, and now with both men working on him with their warm hands and ragged pants for breath – not to mention the thoughts of the scandalous things he planned on doing to Will later on – it took very little time before the familiar explosive sensations began to claim him.
Jack felt the orgasm approaching and angled his movements in such a way that he hit Spike’s prostate directly and he knew that the bliss would be more powerful and extended. Thrusting up and arching his back, Spike grabbed Will’s hair and pulled his face just far enough away that he could watch himself come all over it.
“Jack!” he roared, before promptly disappearing to the accompaniment of a loud thunderous noise and a puff of green smoke.
“Where’d he go?” demanded Jack at the abrupt, wrenching loss, suddenly wondering whether he had imagined the whole thing and had simply been fucking Will all along in a rum-induced stupor.
As the boy turned and looked over his shoulder at the Captain, he could see that his surprised face was splattered with semen, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Well, at least he wasn’t going totally mad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Angel had been going frantic for the entire time that Spike had been missing, which had in fact been all of three and a half minutes.
“Oh my God! What if we’ve sent him to a Hell dimension?! Anything could be happening to him!” he worried agitatedly, pacing the room and gesturing wildly.
“He’s not in a Hell dimension. I’m sure it’s fine,” placated Wesley with rather more confidence than he felt. They had meant to send Spike on a little reality jump to a parallel world so that he could steal a certain device which they needed (that had accidentally been broken in their own reality thanks to an unnamed blond vampire unleashing a horde of horny rabbits, and which hopefully still existed in the parallel reality). Unfortunately, they had made a minor error and sent him back in time as well. Only around 275 years or so (which disturbingly enough meant that a parallel Angel might already have been born) but still it was enough to have them worried.
“How can you be sure?!”
“We know what we did, and Fred is just rectifying it now. He should be back shortly, and he’ll barely have been gone five minutes, although…”
Angel had been relaxing slightly, but he stiffened again. “Although? Although what?” he demanded, grabbing Wesley’s shirt.
Wes slapped his hands away in annoyance. Really, getting so worked up about Spike was just…undignified. “Well, we can’t be sure whether the time continuum is the same. It may feel like more or less time has passed to him.”
“What if it’s like when I went to Hell, and it’s four hundred years for him and he can’t remember us any more?” he panicked.
“Oh, stop being such a big worry-wart,” butted in Fred, looking a little irritated. She was trying to concentrate on reversing the ritual. “At the most the difference will be like an hour or something. And, hold on a tick…right, here we go!”
There was a terrific ‘crack!’ and green light flashed brightly.
They distinctly heard Spike call out “Jack!” in a loud, desperate way before the thump as he landed on the floor, and they quickly waved away the smoke so that they could see whether he was OK.
Spike looked up at them with glazed, bewildered eyes as the last stray drops of cum splattered his belly. “Wot the fuck?”
Angel looked down in disbelief at the sight before him. Spike was entirely naked, his skin covered in faint marks and bruises that looked suspiciously like they might have been inflicted by the kind of pinches, bites and slaps that came with rough sex. His hands were bound together with rope, and beneath the overpowering scents of human sweat, semen and lust that were rolling off him, there was the faint tang of sea air and salt.
“Spike!” squeaked Fred, knowing that she should avert her eyes, but entirely mesmerised.
Angel finally recovered enough from his shock for his rage to elbow its way to the front of his emotional queue. “Who the fuck is Jack?” he roared.
Spike took one look at Angel’s thunderous face and quailed.
“Please put me back,” he begged.
THE END.
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