"COME ON," Buffy whined. "Pllleeeeaaaaaassssseee?" Buffy pulled out the pout and the puppy dog eyes. They had to cave. They always caved. But no, not this time. Spike and Will just exchanged one of their annoying Twin looks and remained staunch. Damn it.

"We'll see you there, pet," Spike smirked.

"But how will I know what to WEAR?!" Buffy moaned. Why couldn't they just cooperate with her?

"It's a costume party, luv. I'm sure you can come up with SOMETHING." Will arched an eyebrow, staunchly refusing to cave.

"You guys suck." Spike wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "Oooooooh no. Uh-UH. You two aren't getting ANY until I know what your costumes are."


"You must be joking."

Buffy smirked at her glowering Twinlets, proud that she'd finally gotten the upper hand in the situation. She and her lovers had been invited to some hoity-toity 'Halloween on Valentines' party, courtesy of Alexandra who "could only stand to go if she knew there were some REAL people scattered in the rich crowd." The guests all had to dress up as some (recognizable) movie character. The bouncers would refuse access to anyone who didn't conform to the rules, even the top A-list celebs. And her freaking annoying boyfriends wouldn't tell her who they were going as. Buffy scowled at them when she realized not even withholding sex (even for one day...Jesus, she was beginning to channel her inner Anya) was going to get them to tell her. But she couldn't back down now, that wasn't the message she wanted to send them ever. She got ganged up on enough as it was.

"Enjoy the couch," she ground out, nose in the air. She slammed their door with a satisfying bang and settled into their large bed with a huff. Wow. She looked around. Their bed was REALLY big. Like, gargantuan. Too big. She laid down length-wise, her feet no where close to the edge. She laid diagonal and stretched her hands above her head, still not hitting the sides. She rolled herself up in all of the sheets, just because she could and there were no annoying men to hog the blankets. She made herself a cocoon out of the pillows. "Crap." She'd forgotten how much sleeping alone absolutely sucked.

Will and Spike glanced at each other as Buffy stormed away, her golden locks flaring after her, wincing as the door slammed shut. They eyeballed one another, trying to gage the other's reaction.

"We're better than this," Spike sighed, staring mournfully at the direction Buffy has taken.

"So much better than this," Will agreed.

The looked at each other again.

"Blow up mattress?" Spike asked, resigned. Will sighed.

"Yeah. I guess."

Buffy scowled at the mirror, wiping away an errant smear of lipstick.

"Your face is gonna stick that way if you keep that up." Buffy turned her scowl towards Alex, who was annoyingly impervious. "Oh COME ON Buffy. Or should i say, 'Damn it, Janet!' instead?" Buffy's scowl gave way to a malicious smile.

"Whatever, Magenta." Alex stuck her tongue out at Buffy, and they both cracked up. "So you REALLY don't know what they're dressing up as?" Alex rolled her eyes.

"NO. And I wouldn't tell you if blah blah blahdy-blah. It's a costume party, Buffy. It doesn't MATTER."

"But but but but it so DOES! I mean, what if I don't recognize them or they dress as something absolutely horrendous and I so do not approve and then it'll be awkward and--"

"Buffy, do me a favor and shut the hell up." Buffy goggled at her friend.

"Wha-what?" She could feel Alex roll her eyes.

"Please, like you'd ever NOT recognize those gorgeous hunks of manliness. And you have seen them recently, right? They could dress as the bride of Frankenstein or some slimy creature with fur and antlers and still be unbelievably gorgeous. So kindly shut the hell up before I explode with jealousy."

"Well Great Scott," Buffy mumbled with a grin.

"Alright. Hot costumes, check. Tickets, check. Lube for the threesome, check."

"Wait, what?"

"I got you three a VD present," Alex informed her, brandishing a new bottle of high quality lube. "Stick it in your bag, the rooms at this place don't come fully furnished, if you catch my drift."

"You...but...but you—"

"Buffy, just say, "Thank you Mistress Alex" and stick it in your bag."

The party was magnificent. One of the many mansions that littered LA had been completely transformed into the very definition of decadence. Costumed valets whisked Alex's car away with a bow. Masked security guards took their names and allowed them access to the grande maison. They'd passed a wall of paparazzi on the way in, but photographic equipment was emphatically not allowed anywhere on the premises. They were each offered a champagne flute of Dom Pérignon upon their entrance into a sweeping ballroom filled with people in amazing costumes.

"This is awesome!" Buffy gasped, looking around in awe. She grabbed Alex's arm in amazement, eyes bugging out. "Tell me I'm not two feet away from Jennifer Garner."

"You're two feet away from about four A-list celebrities, ten top tier writers and a couple of directors baby girl," Alex informed her with a grin. "Alright, first things first. We have rooms. Here's your key, you'll need it to get anywhere past the first floor. I'm next door so we can totally get lunch tomorrow if you want. This place will clear out pretty early since anyone not staying in the mansion probably has some ridiculous VD traditions to uphold."

"VD? MUST you?" Buffy rolled her eyes. Alex grinned sarcastically (which was an expression Buffy had never seen anyone else pull off and been completely unable to reproduce).

"I'm anti VD all the way, as you should be. Now lets find you some men before I get swept away by desperate actors who want a job."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Alex was swept away by some dazzling starlette. Buffy sighed and scanned the crowds for two familiar faces. Where were her Twinlets? She wandered amongst the guests, saying hello to a few of the people she recognized. It was crazy out there, all the shmoozing going on, and Buffy sought refuge in a quite hallway off the busy ballroom. She took a deep breath a polished off her champagne and gazed out the window to the estate's sprawling garden.

"Damn it, Janet, I love you," a voice whispered in her ear. A shiver raced up her spine. Finally. She rose on her toes and turned slowly to give them the full extent of her skimpy costume. She finished her pirouette and opened her eyes to FINALLY see what costumes her Twinlets had chosen. Her jaw was on the ground.

"And you were expecting..." Spike trailed off with a smirk. Spike, with his pants...and his hair...and his...PANTS. She started cataloging the whole ensemble. Tall black boots, tight (sinfully, illegally tight) tan breeches, flowing white shirt that showed off some of his chest. The flowy sleeves should have looked ridiculous, but Spike somehow pulled it off. Buffy moaned when she noticed the sleek black leather gloves that covered Spike's hands, imaging all sorts of scenarios for getting those off...or leaving them on. Trance-like, Buffy ran her finger along the skin exposed by his costume and was rewarded with a sharp inhalation on Spike's part. Her eyes traveled from the swelling bulge in Spike's obscenely tight pants, up to where her manicured nailed were blood red against pale white flesh, to Spike's wig of long and untamed hair; the dramatic eye makeup made his blue eyes sparkle.

"What were you expecting luv?" Buffy whimpered. If Spike looked like this, in his black boots and tight breeches, she didn't think she'd survive what Will was wearing. Spike smirked at her as if he knew exactly what was going on (which he probably did) and slowly turned her around. Her eyes were screwed shut, images of Goblin King Spike dancing through her brain. "Now now. None of that. You're missing the best part."

Will reached out and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her lips. She couldn't help darting out for a quick taste, leaning back into Spike's solid presence, smiling when she heard Will growl at her.

"Open your eyes, Buffy." He used her name in that commanding tone that got her hot and bothered. She did a full body shiver in her button up shirt; that was the tone Will only used between the three of them, and only ever in a certain bedroom situation. Of their own volition, Buffy felt her eyes open.

"Oh GOD," she gasped out, frozen with lust. Will smirked at her, and she couldn't tear her eyes from the dark eye liner around his eyes. Ever since she'd found pictures of them in their punk-rock-or-die phase, she'd been pestering them to dress up for her. And wow did she get her wish. She subjected Will to a similar perusal.

Comfortable looking bucket boots; grey pants, a swath of cloth as a belt; leather straps holding pistols (actual pistols!) in place; a dark vest over a loose white linen shirt that also gave her tantalizing glimpses of male chest. Buffy smirked at the facial hair, because she'd never considered her twinlets with hair but with the ensemble and the attitude it totally worked. The red bandana peaking out from under a jaunty tricorn hat completed the ensemble. Will grinned and tipped his hat at her. "Miss Janet," he drawled seductively.

"Captain," Buffy murmured, a little breathlessly. Will's playful smirk turned into something more predatory, and he stepped into her, pressing her back against Spike. She rocked against Spike's hardness and ground down when Will slipped a leg between her thighs.

"So wanton, Janet. So needy," Spike whispered in her ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe. Will plundered her mouth, sucking the air out of her lungs. She felt the bodies surrounding her shift and move, and slender fingers were skating along her hip, tracing the outline of the lab coat she wore, rubbing against the palin cotton panties underneath. They were slowly making their way towards her center. She bucked her hips against Will's leg, rubbing her sopping mound against the rough material of his pants.

"Now pet," Spike said with amusement, stilling the movements of her hips and ignoring her whimpered protests, "no cheating." He pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing her through the soft cotton of her underwear, and she cried out. Will was quick to stifle the sound with his mouth.

"No no no, you go on, I'll meet you there, just have to say hi to some folk, neveryoumind I PROMISE I'll be back in like five minutes so just shoo, go go, oh look I see JJ Abrams, he'd LOVE to hear all about it." Will and Spike were quick to turn Buffy so she was shielded between them, Will's back to the entrance to the large ballroom. She panted into Will's chest, Spike's hands caressing her back.

"Good God, don't you people know you have a room? I'd be totally disgusted at your blatant perpetuation of a totally inferior and manufactured 'holiday' if I didn't know you three really WERE this horny ALL THE TIME." Buffy was watching Alex with a bemused smirk. Will and Spike, who weren't around her enough to be truly used to her rants, were looking a bit shell shocked. She stopped briefly to crow in triumph as she pulled an old fashioned key out of Buffy's here-to forgotten bottomless purse. She tucked it into Will's wide cloth belt and copped a feel in the process. Buffy simply smirked at Will when he shot her a 'Help me!' look "There now, room 307. That's up three flights and to the left, you're half way there. Have fun, you can buy me breakfast in the morning to thank me for protecting your modesty and dignity—no skimping on the mimosas—as I'll be in the suite adjoining yours. Do NOT keep me up all night with your panting and moaning; I have a gag you can borrow if you need. Buffy-poo, here's your purse, remember you came prepared and WHY are you still here? Go have kinky three-some sex already, shoo!" Spike could only blink. Will glanced down at his chest, still feeling vaguely molested. Buffy was choking on her laughter, but gave it up when Alex winked at her. The side of Alex's mouth quirked upwards. Briefly.

"Escuse me," an accented voice broke in. Alex craned her head around the tight-packed trio and her eyes got really big. "Hi, I can come through?" When Will's eyes went wide, Buffy pushed him away to see who it was.

"Of course, sorry, we were just caught in the VD love. Don't mind us," Alex said with a winning smile.

"VD...love?" Buffy made a small, miserable sound in the back of her throat. Freaking Alexandra was talking about VD to freaking JACKIE CHAN.

"Oh yes! Haven't you heard about the anti-VD movement?" Jackie Chan was currently giving her the same look one might give a wounded wild animal that looked deadly innocent. Buffy and her Twinlets watched in mute fascination as Alex linked arms with a bemused JACKIE CHAN (WTF?!) and drew him out of the room, explaining the ins and outs of VD and why everyone should be anti-VD. She turned around briefly to give them a thumbs up and shoot Buffy an encouragingly lascivious look.

"Did that...just happen?" Spike wondered weakly.

"Yeah. I think it did," Will answered in awe. Buffy rolled her eyes. Her boys needed to spend way more time with their producer friend. She slipped away from them and stood on the steps; it was time to get this show on the road cause she was horny, dammit!

"Oh boys." Two bewigged heads whipped around at her sultry tone. Buffy had one hip jutted out, her leg extended so that their eyes followed it down down down and then up up up to where her skimpy little lab coat hid her best bits from view. She tossed her head and gave them her best bedroom eyes. "I seem to have attracted the attention of the most fearsome pirate Captain on the seven seas and the great Goblin King. Whatever am I to do?" Buffy forgot how to breath as she watch Spike and Will shift, adopting different personas before her eyes.

"You'll do whatever I want you to do," Spike informed her imperiously. And he meant it. Buffy's knees went weak; Spike didn't take that kind of initiative and control often, but when he did... Spike snapped his fingers and summoned Will over, his eyes never leaving Buffy's. Will slunk over to his lover, entranced by the dominating side of Spike. He threw his head back as Spike ran a seductive hand down his body, finger tweaking his nipples and caressing his cock before flitting away, touching his hips and cupping his arse. Spike pressed a quick kiss under Will's ear, and then shoved him towards Buffy. "Room."

He walked behind them, admiring the way Buffy's ass played peek-a-boo in her innocent cotton panties and white lab coat. Will's outfit was more blatantly sexual, the linen pants clinging to every curve and movement. They clung even tighter since Will's cock was straining against the front of the fabric, pulling it forward. Spike finally gave into temptation and goosed the tempting asses in front of him, laughing at the startle sounds his lovers made. He'd distinctly heard a squeak from someone, though he wouldn't venture a guess as to which one.

He leaned against the wall as Buffy and Will tried to get their door open, fumbling with the key and whispering furiously at one another. He crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow as they get more desperate, shooting anxious looks at him between biting words. Spike let a low growl build in his throat. Will finally shouldered into the door and it sprang open with a loud pop.

"Your majesty," Will said with a bow, sweeping his arm in a welcoming motion. Spike school his features and stepped up to his cocky subject, looming over him. Will straightened slowly, eying Spike warily. Spike stood before him, gaze level and blank, until Will started twitching under the scrutiny. Buffy watched them play out their tableau with baited breath. Spike took a breath and then moved, pulling Will into him by the vest. He walked them backwards, attacking Will's lips. He tumbled them onto the bed, pushing his thighs apart and settling between them. He pinned Will's hands to the bed, an enormous construction with four tall posts at either corner, and forced him not to stay still as he ground down into him.

"Stay," he commanded, and ripped himself away. Will whimpered and tried to move, but Spike pressed him down and pinched a nipple in warning. Will school himself, forcing his body to stay rigidly immobile. Spike stroked his stomach in approval. "Good twin." Will glared at him, he eyes glittering extra blue in the bed of black eye liner.

"Evil twin." Spike's grinned widened.

"Yeah. Now watch." He spun on his heel and advanced on Buffy, who shrank back against the door. He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned down, inhaling deeply. She was trembling slightly, and he could smell her arousal from here. Gods it was intoxicating. He inhaled the scent of her hair, light vanilla shampoo that he associated exclusively with Buffy now. He moved down her body, allowing the feeling of his breath and the heat of his body to touch her, caress her...but nothing else. He moaned out loud what he got to the apex of her thighs. She smelled divine. The sound of Buffy's nails searching for purchase against the door had his dick leaping in his pants.

"Spike." It was barely a whisper, almost inaudible, and that spurned Spike to action more than anything else. He rose and kissed her with all the passion and love he felt. He slipped his gloved hand into her searing heat, the roughness of the leather made her gasp and moan. He encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist, rocking his erection against her. He teased her with barely-there strokes then pressed firmly against her clit. "Spike!" she gasped against his lips. He dipped his head and sucked against her hard nipples. With a sharp cry, she came against him.

"Good, pet?" Buffy slowly unwound, lowering shaky, rubbery legs to the ground. She giggled at Spike's disarray; his Jareth wig was slightly askew, his platinum hair peaking from underneath the slightly darker locks. She tugged it straight and smiled at him.


"Not...quite..." a strained voice groaned. They both glanced over to the bed. Spike kept his attention on his twin as he casually issued order to Buffy.

"Lose the coat, luv. Kneel on the bed. Pay attention." Buffy allowed herself a moment of stunned turned-on-ness before scrambling to comply. Spike ignored her and focused on Will, squirming slightly on his bed. His pants outlined his erect penis perfectly. A small wet spot spread out from the tip. Will's groan said wuite clearly that Spike should "get on with it, he had been hard and aching for AGES now." An evil smile stretched across Spike's face. Will'd just have to wait a little longer.

Spike approached the bed slowly, drinking in the sight of Will willingly stretched on the bed and Buffy hovering over him, face flushed and eyes bright.

"Oh captain, my captain," he murmured, trailing a finger along the exposed planes of Will's chest. "Janet, be a dear and keep Captain Sparrow's arms above his head." Will let out a tortured whimper as Buffy leaned over him, her breasts almost spilling out of the lacy bra she was wearing. She stroked the inside of Will's arms as she guided them above his head, and placed a chaste kiss on the inside of each elbow.

Spike dragged his tongue down the pale, pale chest, tasting and caressing goose-pimpled flesh. Spike cataloged every moan, ever shiver, every time his lover's muscles jumped away from his touch. He bit pointed nipples through the rough cotton shirt, mouthed his way down to one razor hip. His leather-clad hand brushed lightly over Will's covered erection. Even this light, fleeting touch caused Will's dick to jump, and Spike chuckled darkly.

"Stand up." It took Will a few moments to process the command and a few more to follow it. He spared a glance for Buffy, who was laying wantonly on the bed. Her innocent white cotton pantie were an arousing contrast to her sinfully seductive bra. Spike glanced back and forth between them, contemplating his next move. What would Jareth do? skittered through his brain and he grinned with feral intent.

"You," he said imperiously, pointing at Buffy, "come. You kneel." Will, still in full Jack Sparrow regalia, covered the ground between them in two steps and sunk gracefully to his knees, head bowed. Spike rubbed an approving hand over his cheek. Buffy stood before him, her gaze also lowered. Spike could see her pulse point pounding against her neck. "Sit there, and watch." Buffy moved to a chair on the side of the room while Spike focussed all of his attention on Will. He ran his finger along the line of Will's jaw, to the tuft of fake facial hair, over his lips. Spike pulled the gloves off with his teeth, flinging them away and pressing his fingers to Will's lips. They parted and sucked two of Spike's fingers into the warm cavern of his mouth, hot and willing.

"Mmmmm, such a pretty mouth. So eager. Think it wants someth'n else though." He pulled his fingers away, much to Will's disappointment. "What d'you wan', pet? What d'you need?" Spike's accent was thick, his words running together. He stepped close into Will's space, and the kneeling man couldn't help but nuzzle Spike's hard length.

"Please," he whispered, trying to reign in his own arousal. "Please."

"Please? Please what? You wan' my cock?" Will moaned, the vibrations crawling up Spike's dick. "You wan' me t'fuck that pretty little mouth, take you, make you mine?" Will whimpered and mouthed Spike's cock impatiently.

"Take it out," Spike growled. Will had his breeches peeled back and his cock out in moments, happily sucking away. "Hands behind your back." Will clasped his hands together, working Spike with his mouth and tongue. He groaned when he felt Spike's hands come on either side of his head, stilling his motions. Spike pulled back until just the tip of his turgid penis was encased in Will's warmth, who couldn't help but swirl his tongue around the head. He relaxed his throat muscles as Spike slid slowly into his mouth and back out, holding him steady and taking his pleasure. Will allowed himself to slip deeper into his role, embracing his submission as Spike fucked his face. He dug his fingernails into his back as his orgasm crept up on him, fighting it back.

Spike felt the moment Will gave in, slipped into the blissful state of compliance and acceptance. He drove his cock into the warm wetness of his lover's moth, always careful, reveling in his dominance. He glanced up to check on Buffy and almost came. She was riveted to the scene, her green eyes luminous, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Her knuckles were white, clenched around the armrests of the chair. She was rubbing her thighs against each other trying to find some friction or release. He had to pull out of Will's mouth to stop from coming on the spot.

Will settled back onto his heels, eyes glazed. Spike reached down and pinched the head of Will's penis to keep him from coming, murmured comforting words as he came back to himself a little.

"It's your turn to watch," he whispered, licking the shell of Will's ear. He turned to a highly aroused, flush Buffy and glared at her. "Do you know what you've done?" he asked, all dark promises and lethal seduction. Buffy swallowed and shook her head, the feel of her hair playing along her back torture against her sensitive nerves.

Spike slowly prowled around her, drinking in the way her body leaned towards him, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal.

"You're bloody distracting," he whispered into her shoulder, as if imparting a precious secret. "My senses are filled with you." This into her neck, the words spilling down her back. "I can't see anything but your beauty, miles of tanned skin waiting for me." These words kissed into her thighs, down her leg, swirling around her ankles. "I can't hear anything but your heart, racing from just a glance in your direction." Bouncing softly off her stomach. "Ever smell pales in comparison to this." Murmured reverently into the secret place between her legs, the words cinders bursting into flame on contact. "And all my hands want to do is touch." Ghosting down her face, her neck, her breasts. "Open your eyes."

Spike watched as dusty lashes fluttered open. He raised his hand to tangle in her hair.

"You're wanton and gorgeous and demanding and driving me to distraction." He pulled her head back until he could see her pulse throbbing in her neck. He placed a lingering kiss to it, before whispering in her ear, "I think you need to...apologize." Buffy's eyes slid shut and a moan ripped from her throat. Her panties were coated with fresh arousal.

"Like that idea, do ya?" Buffy nodded, as much as she could with Spike's grip on her hair. "An'ow would ya like to apologize?"

"I—" Buffy stopped to swallow, wetting dry lips. Spike made an impatient sound and jerked slightly on her hair. "I should be punished." A low groan from the peanut gallery accompanied her statement, and Spike had to close his eyes to keep his arousal under wraps.

"Wh—what would be an appropriate punishment then, pet?" His voice was less controlled than he wanted, but Spike figured Buffy was a little too far gone to care. Buffy jerked in his grasp.

"Whatever you want," she gasped out. Her pupils were almost totally blown, the green of her eyes just slivers against the black.

Spike abruptly let go, not reaching out to help Buffy as she stumbled to catch her balance. He moved over to the small breakfast table and pulled out one of the chairs. He retrieved one of Will's discarded leather straps and settled into the char. Once he was seated, he crooked a finger at Buffy, who was practically hyperventilating at this point, summoning her to him. She slunk towards him, color rising in her cheeks.

"Over my lap, pet. Make sure Will gets a good look at that sweet arse of yours." Buffy stretched her body over Spike's lap, her cotton-clad ass waving enticingly in the air. She gripped Spike's ankles, letting her head hang down. A quick glance in Will's direction proved he was paying very close attention to the proceedings, so Spike put him out of his mind...for now. He caressed Buffy's tight little ass, enjoying the soft cotton against his hand. He felt Buffy relax against him as he brushed her lower back and upper thighs.

Buffy gasped as the leather strap came down on her cotton-covered ass. It stung so well. She whimpered as Spike began strapping her in earnest. He set up a steady pace, the blows falling at regular intervals. She gasped and tried to arch away when the tip of the strap landed against her uncovered thigh, but Spike held her in place, growling out a warning. She stopped moving, and Spike resumed his abuse; this time, the pace was varied and unpredictable, and Buffy was soon sobbing and gasping out Spike's name.

Buffy was shaking on his lap when he stopped, tossing the leather strap aside. He ran his hands over her ass, feeling the warmth from the strapping radiating outward. Buffy moaned as his hands drew the cotton against her welts, the generally soft feeling material abrasive and rough.

"You're doin' good, pet," Spike assured her. He let his hands wander across Buffy's back as he looked over at Will. The poor boy looked like he was about to burst, staring at them like a starving man at a feast. He snapped his fingers to get Will's attention, then motioned him closer. He glared when Will made to stand, arching an eyebrow. His lover's eyes fluttered closed as he fought for control. Looking for and receiving permission, Will dropped onto all fours. He crawled towards the pair of the, looking up as Spike through hooded eyes. It was a gorgeous sight, one that made Spike's cock jump.

"Take off her knickers," Spike commanded, voice thick. Will reverently caressed Buffy's ass, drawing her cotton undies down. She whimpered as the cotton drug along her welts and tender marks. Both Will and Spike moaned as her tantalizing red arse was revealed inch by glorious inch. That she was wearing his marks made something primal rise up within him. "You should make her feel better since you're next," he instructed Will. Spike shifted Buffy so her body was more horizontal on his lap, her knees on the floor.

Will leaned in pressed a small kiss against Buffy's lower back. Moving down, he lovingly laved her marks with his tongue, covering each and every mark. He pulled back a blew a gentle cool stream of air over her red arse, cooling the heated flesh. Buffy let out an appreciative sound, deep in her throat. He worshiped her with everything he had, ignoring his protesting knees and even more urgent throbbing from his cock. His entire world was focused on Buffy's lovely ass.

"Enough," Spike ordered. Will either ignored him or was so wrapped up in his task he didn't hear. "Enough!" When Will still didn't pull away, Spike grabbed his long wig and wrenched him away. "You'll pay for that later," Spike informed him, then pushed Will back into his kneeling position. Spike had considered letting Will assume a different position to keep him from cramping, but he wasn't feeling overly compassionate at the moment. He guided Buffy back to her original position.

"Ready, luv?" he asked her. "Just take this, and Ill give you what you want." Buffy made a sound that Spike took as assent. He ran his hands lovingly over her bare ass, still hot and red despite Will's ministrations. The first crack made Buffy yelp; Spike savored the feeling of her flesh giving way to his hand and angled his next stroke angled to hit one of her welts. Buffy hissed in pain. Spike lost himself in the feeling and sound of her, keeping up his pace until his hand stung. Buffy was a quivering mass in lap by that time, and he could feel the evidence of her arousal on his leg.

Buffy's head was swimming when she was roughly pulled up. Her legs were jelly, but Spike was there directing her where to go. He pressed her into the foot of the bed and pushed her legs apart. He rubbed his penis against her opening, against her clit, taunting her with it.

"You ready for this? Want me?"

"P-please!" she gasped. "Spike!" He pressed in, one sure stroke burying his entire length within her. She felt the coarseness of his hair against her sensitive ass, the painful scrape adding to her arousal. His hand found her throbbing clit, and she sobbed against the bed, her hands curling into the bed spread as Spike pistoned into her. She felt the first tremor of her orgasm, her internal muscles spasming sporadically. The spasms gave way to longer, more intense feelings, pleasure wracking her frame.

"Come for me, pet. Let it go." Buffy threw her head back and screamed, letting ever sensation invade her, swell and break. Spike's fingers manipulated her clit, drawing her orgasm out for an interminable length. By the time he pulled out, still achingly hard, she was still shuddering with the after effects. He placed a kiss between her shoulder blades and stroked lovingly down her back before leaving her to recuperate. He wasn't done yet.

By the time Spike turned his attention to his twin, Will was getting desperate. Spike leveled a critical glance at him.

"Strip." The short, clipped command sent Will into a frenzy of movement as he struggled with the unfamiliar clothes. Boots went flying one way, Will got tangled in his vest and shirt, ripped out a few tufts of hair getting the wig off, but eventually stood proudly naked and ridiculously aroused. His cock was an angry purple-red, begging for release. Spike's wasn't much better. "Undress me...slowly."

Will stumbled towards Spike, his coordination a little shaky. Spike drew him in for a kiss, running a soothing hand down the back of his neck. He pulled Will into a quick hug, whispering calming words of nonsense. It was just what Will needed to regain control. Pulling away slightly, Will tugged the white shirt out of Spike's breeches, pulling it gently over his head and dropping it as they shared another kiss.

Will trailed small kisses down Spike's jaw, his neck, his chest, nimble fingers gently removing the shock of Jareth!hair from Spike's head. He sunk down, taking a moment to dip his tongue into Spike's navel. Kneeling (again), Will looked up at Spike through his lashes, silently asking him to life his leg. It was beautiful and endearing and so full of trust. Ruffling his lover's sweat-soaked hair, Spike allowed Will to remove his boots and socks. Finally, only one piece of clothing kept Spike's body hidden. Will reverently peeled the tight pants away, admiring every inch of newly exposed flesh. He pressed a reverent kiss to Spike's tattoo and rested his head against Spike's stomach, fresh pain welling up unexpectedly from wounds thought long-healed.

"Will." He looked up, apology and sorrow in his eyes. Spike knelt down and claimed his mouth, trying to drive out the sadness. "None of that. Not today."

"I'm so sorry Spike. Make me forget." Spike dove in again, claiming Will's lips for his own.

"Up!" he growled, dragging his unresisting lover with him when Will wasn't fast enough. He caught up the white length of cloth Will had been using as a belt. Spike pressed Will against the post of the bed. "Hands." He bound Will's hands to the post of the bed, enjoying the play of muscle along his back, the way his pale skin contrasted with the dark mahogany. Spike admired his work, and left Will there while he searched through Buffy's purse for the lube.

When he turned back, Will was tense, testing his bindings. Spike rolled his eyes; as if he'd suddenly forget how to tie a knot or get sloppy. Will should know better. In fact, Spike should remind him that he should know better. Silently, he crossed the room and picked up the length of leather. Will barely registered sound when the strap struck his back. A cry inadvertently slipped from his lips. The next blow stung low across his buttocks, hurting so good. With every blow, every mark, Will let go of some of his regret, some of the pain and sorrow he'd bottled up long ago, until he was sobbing with release and feeling lighter than ever before. He let go of the guilt, found the forgiveness that Spike had given so long ago, but finally forgave himself. He let go of everything and floated on a cloud of sensation.

He was so wrapped up in his headspace that he didn't even feel Spike untie him or gently lower him to the ground, just came around to gentle hands and soft lips whispering his name.

"Spike. God, Spike."

"Ssshhhh." He nudged Will onto his back, kissing away the tears and the last vestiges of something his brother had held on to far too long. Will moaned when a slick finger pressed into him. He spread his legs, pulled them up for better access. A second finger soon joined the first, and these sought out the hard nub inside him.

"Fuck, Spike!"

"That's the idea." Will picked his head up to glare at Spike, who just rubbed that nub again and Will forgot his name.


"So demand'n," Spike tisked, but added a third finger, stretching Will out and pumping slowly.

"Spi-ike," Will whined, shimmying his hips impatiently.

"Cor, impatient much?"

"Too much talking. Get on with it and fuck me!" Spike narrowed his eyes; he was still in charge here. He pulled one of Will's legs over his shoulder and delivered a stinging spank to Will's unprotected backside. Will yelped in surprised.

"I'll fuck you when 'm good 'n' ready," Spike informed him, driving his fingers deep into Will's heat. "I wanted to make this good for you, open you up, fuck you slowly. But I could just take you, take what I want, fuck yer arse and leave you as you are. Not care if you get off. Leave ya hard n'achin'." Will moaned and tightened his muscles around Spike's fingers. "You want that, you sick bastard, wan' me to use you and abuse you and throw you away." Spike had to concentrate to get his words out; his sorely neglected cock was screaming at him to go ahead and come already. Will couldn't be in a much better state.

"Spike!" With a groan, thrusting against him. Spike popped the top and lubed up his dick. He wasn't going to last long, but neither was Will. Will held his legs up as Spike positioned himself, crying out in relief as Spike started to fill him. Spike didn't give Will time to adjust, driving in and out in a frantic pace. Will's hands grabbed at the floor, trying to ground himself and Spike took him hard and fast. His eyes crossed when Spike angled his thrusts so the head of his dick scraped against his prostate with every move. He was teetering on the edge, ready to fall when Spike licked his hand and reached for Will's cock. He stripped it three times and Will was off, coming hard and long between them. Spike followed soon after, the clenching of Will's muscles too much to hold off. Spike sighed and rolled to the side, laying spent beside his equally satiated twin.

"Wow," Will muttered, trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah," Spike seconded, his eyes already heavy. He groaned and dragged himself up and to the bathroom. Will cracked an eye open when a warm cloth gently scraped against his stomach. "Bed."

Will allowed Spike to pull him up, grimacing as his ass rubbed against the carpet. Spike just smirked at his scowling brother; he deserved it for the number of times he'd put Spike in that position. They stumbled into bed, Will curling on his side to give his back a rest. Buffy was nestled on her side for much the same reason.

"OK?" Buffy mumbled sleepily, eying her Twinlets. Spike smiled and kissed her nose.

"Tomorrow," he promised. Buffy smiled at him and opened her arms. Spike snuggled in between them, wrapping his arms around his lovers and sighing contentedly. He was halfway to dream land when a sharp finger dig into his ribs.

"You've been holdin' out on me," Buffy slurred, cracking one jade eye open to glare half-heatedly at him.

"Whazzat?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Keep sayin' Will's the one with the words. You have good words, too."

"'scus he's a poet," Will mumbled, smirking as he nuzzled into Spike's side. He gave a three count, and felt Buffy pop up on Spike's other side.

"Poet?" Will started laughing, waving Spike off as he tried to flick his ear. "You're a poet?!"

"Bloody hell," Spike sighed, resigned.