Rating: NC-17
Pairing: S/X
Fandom: BtVS
Disclaimer: Joss is a God… and I’m not.
Written for: the smut_69 comm.

Prompt: RESTRAINTS
Sixth in the Smut 69 series

Trust

by
Tisienne Blue

He trusts him completely.

In fact, there’s not a single neuron in his brain that doesn’t trust him and wouldn’t that have made him laugh, not so long ago?

Hell, it’s only been a matter of months since the two of them were pretty much enemies, after all.

Still, that was then, and this… well, this isn’t.

This is now, and he’s here, they’re here, and…

And here—now—is good; better than just good. Here and now is great, wonderful, incredible, and a whole bucket of other words he never would have thought possible before.

Then again, he never would have thought that being tied up in this odd but original fashion would make him feel so… free and safe, but it does. It does, and it never has before.

It might have something to do with the way he’s bound and the fact that he knows he can release himself easily, though he won’t.

He won’t even consider pulling the thong in his hand; not only because he trusts his lover so fully but because he can’t stand even the idea of the disappointment in those happy eyes.

And then he feels those fingers grazing lightly along his so-exposed crack; feels them grasp lightly at the flared base of the plug he’s been wearing for hours, and when the firm silicone is removed so slowly he wants to moan and it’s replaced with even firmer flesh, larger flesh, flesh that spears him so perfectly, so lovingly though neither of them can say so…?

He drops that slender thong, fingers wrapping around the straps connected to the headboard and pulls slowly, then releases, the motion lifting his knees then lowering them, he does moan.

Hell, he moans, he groans, he gasps and whimpers and sighs… and if weren’t for the gag muffling his tongue, he’d be stuttering “Xander… X-xan… please…”

But the gag is there, so Spike has no words.

Then again, he doesn’t much want them because the dark, hot, needy eyes staring deep into his as the human buries himself root-deep repeatedly seem to know, and so Spike needs no words.

And somewhere deep inside-- deeper even than Xander’s thrusting, stabbing, blissful shaft-- Spike is glad because had he words, who knows what they might become on meeting the air?

‘Love’, maybe, or ‘need’… or maybe even ‘forever’, because one thing Spike’s never had—knows he’s never had—is restraint, and… those words could change things; maybe even end things.

So yeah, he trusts Xander completely. But he doesn’t trust himself.

The End

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