Wet Dreams
Spike was sleeping soundly, curled onto his side like a baby
with one hand folded under his cheek. His snores drifted across the basement
like a lullaby, rising and falling, in a soothing rhythm. Buffy smiled as she
glanced over at him. Sometimes he was just so innocent and sweet that her heart
couldn’t help but react to his charm. Shaking her head, she returned to folding
laundry that never seemed to end. That’s why she was down here at
Snort…grunt…mutter, and with those noises Spike flipped onto his back. She looked over at him again, almost unconsciously licked her lips at the large tent in the sheet caused by Spike’s nocturnal erection. Damn the man was huge, she thought before trying to force her attention back to the pile of towels that she was folding.
“Yeah, baby, just like that,” Spike groaned.
She couldn’t help it. She wanted to, so why not, she turned to watch him dream. His hand drifted down his belly, pushing the sheet lower, and giving her a view of his well defined abs. Buffy pressed her legs together, leaning on the washer and the pile of soft clothes waiting to be washed.
“Going to give it to you so good,” Spike said, his hips thrusting upwards simulating the sex he was obviously enjoying in slumber. “Slayer, you’re the best fuck…,” he whispered, making her smile to know that he was dreaming about her. It had been so long since those long nights of sex where they used each other so ruthlessly. She missed it…hell, she missed him. Whimpering in need, she rubbed her thighs together, hoping it would relieve the ache.
Her eyes widened when he pushed the sheet even lower, revealing him in all his glorious manhood. All she wanted to do was crawl in beside him and give him what he wanted. She couldn’t though. They were friends. Right? Wasn’t that what they were working toward? No little crypt for two with a picket fence. That was a long forgotten fantasy that never existed. At least on her part. It was a lie, but only she knew that.
“Come on, pet, squeeze me so good,” Spike called out, wrapping his hand around his cock and doing exactly what he wanted. “Never before…oh, god, yes…Faith.”
Buffy froze except for her eyes which narrowed into little slits. “You fucking bastard,” she hissed before she stopped to remind herself that he was dreaming and even worse she was eavesdropping on his dream. What the hell? He was probably awake anyway after her name calling, so she grabbed the box of fabric sheets and hurled it at him.
It was as she thought. He was awake. His arm came up and deflected the box before it could hit him. Then he had the audacity to laugh; a loud belly laugh that rocked his entire body.
“Jealous, pet?” He managed to spit out.
“No,” Buffy said, grabbing the laundry basket. She could finish this upstairs. “Obviously you have no taste,” she added, not caring that it did show she was in the thrall of the green-eyed monster. “Go back to sleep and finish whatever you were doing.”
“Wasn’t asleep, Buffy.”
She hesitated on the first step.
“Woke up the moment you came down here,” he continued. “Just something about you being all cute and domestic makes me hornier than hell.”
“Whatever,” she responded, taking the next step.
“Been trying to get your attention again,” he said. “But you’ve been playing all innocent and whatever.”
“Not playing,” she whispered. “I…I don’t know where to go…after…you know…what happened.”
“Loved you then, fucked it up royally, and still love you today. Never dream about anyone but you.”
She wanted to cry like a little girl and ask if it was true, but she couldn’t. She was an adult and there was an example to be set, and, well, she sighed.
“Come here, Luv,” he said. “Won’t ask you again. Can’t take you breaking my heart all over.”
“I can’t,” she whispered to herself, but knew he could hear her.
“Good night then,” Spike said, turning over to face the wall. He pulled the sheet over his shoulder and she knew she was dismissed. He wouldn’t ask again.
Buffy looked up at the door that led to her life, to her friends who were living there, the SITs camping out all over the place, and the world crisis that was all her responsibility. Here, with him, she didn’t have to be anyone but Buffy because he loved her just like she was.
She turned around.
“Wanna show me what you’ve been dreaming about?” She asked, pulling her shirt off as she approached the cot.
Spike turned to look at her, and then a slow, sexy smile drifted over his face before he pulled the sheet back to let her in.
~~~The End~~~
