bitterfic (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bitterfic) wrote,@ 2007-10-27 09:29:00 |
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| Entry tags: | fandom: buffy the vampire slayer, rating: r, slash/yaoi |
Blood Stains: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fic
Author: Bitterfig
Title: Blood Stains
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Spike/Riley
Summary: Set during BtVS Season 5 when Riley is letting vampires feed off him. One of those vampires is Spike.
Word Count: 302
Beta Reader: Bookworm_2005
Rating: R
Warnings: Bloodplay
Author's Note: Originally writer for ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
slashthedrabblePrompt #140: Lust. "Blood stains, speed kills, fast cars, cheap thrills. Rich girls, fine wine, I’ve lost my sense, I’ve lost control, I’ve lost my mind.” is from the song "Blood Stains" by Agent Orange.
The first time that Riley let one of them drink from him, it scared the hell out of him but he liked it anyway. Yeah, he liked it a whole lot. The adrenaline rush of fear as the vamp bit in, followed by the swoon that trapped him in its languid sensuality as his blood was drained away, the pounding of his heart as the crucial point grew near, and, finally, relief when the vampire pulled away at the last minute leaving him shaken but still breathing.
He wanted it, night after night. He needed it.
Lying between the knees of a scabby, dead-eyed vampire woman. The swoon’s about to engulf him, but she pulls away.
“Mind if I cut in, lovely?” says a familiar voice. British accent. Riley knows who it is before he opens his eyes.
”Spike…” Riley mutters, still intoxicated by the blooding. “What are you doing here?’
“Same as you mate, blood stains, speed kills, fast cars, cheap thrills.” Spike picks him up easy as a kitten, presses him against the wall. “Rich girls, fine wine, I’ve lost my sense, I’ve lost control, I’ve lost my mind.”
He presses his lips to Riley’s neck. No teeth, just lips. Soft. Cold.
“Shall I, solider boy?” Spike asks. “I wouldn’t do it without your go ahead. I’m not some bleeding rapist, am I?”
“You can’t… the chip in your head…”
“That won’t matter if you want it bad enough, will it?”
The swoon. The heartbeat. They’re calling him.
He wants it bad enough.
“I can see it in your face,” Spike says. “You need it. Come on, tell me how much.”
“Bite. Me.”
Cold blue eyes. Cold smile, with teeth.
“Well, since you ask so nicely.”
Swoon. Heartbeat. Relief.
He’s putting his life in Spike’s hands.
He knows he’s lost.
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