Lar ||| Buffy & Angel

Shadowed
by Lar

Email: HERE
Rating: NC-17 (m/m slash, darkness)
Pairing: X/R
Improv: #18 - reckless/pallor/spice/false
Disclaimer: Xander and Riley are not mine, but I abuse them more than Joss ever did.
Author's Notes: Set after the X/R series "Filling In The Gaps", specifically after "Palimpsest." Timeline is around "Into the Woods," spoilers for that ep in here.
Dedication: To Donna for the beta despite her squick, to ethrosdemon because I miss her, to Sam for being my co-resident in DF, to Katie for cheering me up and kicking my ass. To Criss and zahra for the Lin-fic, and Yvette and Paul for yummy pictures and dirty thoughts shared from work.

== == == == ==

//Recklessness will be my downfall//

This is the thought that ripples through Xander's conscious mind as he presses forward and lets his mouth open. Eager hands find their way beneath Riley's t-shirt, span the expanse of his shoulders and press into the muscles that rope beneath warm skin. His sigh is echoed back to him, spice of aftershave sharp in his nostrils when he sucks in a hurried lungful of air between wet kisses.

"Bed." Riley mutters. It's a statement, and Xander shakes his head no, mumbles against swollen lips.

"Too far," he says, his hands popping a button, teasing fingers against newly bared flesh.

"Couch?" is the groaned reply, barely intelligible between the need to keep Xander's mouth inundated with kisses, keep those hands roving beneath cotton and over slick skin. Xander grins at the request, shakes his head again.

"Too far..." This time punctuated with an open mouth marking moist trails over stubbled cheek and teeth closing on Riley's earlobe. Push of hips, brush of hardness against an answering thrust, and Xander's shirt is creeping up his back as Riley tugs at it, drawing it up and over his head.

Not the first time they've just gone at it as soon as Riley walked in the door, not the last unless this is the time they get caught. If Anya comes home early without calling first, or Willow stops over unannounced, the fact that they're lovers will be only slightly more disconcerting than the fact that Riley is even here. Lies perpetuated through silence, Xander never saying that he got the phone call a week after Buffy told them all he had left. Riley refusing to tell anyone that he came back here because he had no where else to go. Confusion from them both about what they had started that night after Xander discovered Riley's addiction, and neither willing to walk away from something they need and can't fit into a neat labeled box.

Tonight , though, it's all about Xander's raw need to just get six feet and then some of ex-Marine naked and under him, around him. His absolute *want* to have Riley's back arch up off the floor, hear him swear under his breath like he always does whenever Xander puts his mouth right... there...

"Fuck, Xander." Breathless whisper and Riley's hand tangled in black curls as Xander falls to his knees and wraps his mouth around the cock that strains towards him. Familiar taste of salty precome as his tongue flicks over the broad head, dips into the slit. This earns him another moan and a fist tightening in his hair, and Xander hums around the length he holds in his throat while he tugs loose jeans down from hips that fit the curve of his hand so well. His fingers press between bare, parted thighs and stroke the raised ridge of scar tissue that never fails to make those thighs tremble when it's touched.

Tonight is no exception, and Xander growls with the wave of hot lust that roils through him at the feeling of heavy muscles and satin skin shaking from *his* touch, from what *he* chooses to do. He whips his head up, Riley's cock sliding out with a wet little sound that is somewhere between a slurp and a kiss. His hands grab for Riley's forearms, tug him down roughly until he's lying on the floor. Sits up briefly to strip off his own shirt and then leans back and gives Xander free access. Warm calloused fingers roam over naked flesh. Brush against hard nipples, seek out the pallor of white ripples and bumps that never tanned in the sun of Belize, both caresses earning him gasps and moans.

== == == == ==

Riley never asks why when Xander gets like this. He suspects it has to do with Xander's growing frustration at the situation they find themselves in, the way he's allowed himself to become torn between two people he doesn't want to hurt. Riley knows there's more than just the sex between them, that it's gone beyond friendship and comfort for both of them. For himself, he can no longer claim Xander as a rebound thing. He knows that there's more, there's all kinds of more to it in fact, but he's not ready to address anything beyond the way it feels to have Xander all over him like this, wanting and needing and growling his name. To have Xander know how to get him to that wall with his mouth and his hands, making the scars part of the process. Something to bring pleasure and not a cause for shame, although there are nights when Riley cannot look at them without wanting to cry and smash things.

Without wanting to go out and acquire more.

Now though, right now there's nothing more than warm naked flesh sliding over his own, wet open mouth on his neck, his ear. Tongue finding the crease behind it and leaving a moist trail down and over his jaw before breaking off abruptly when Xander rolls away to struggle out of his own khakis and boxers, kicking them away from his feet and returning to tear at the pants Riley hasn't managed to remove.

"Relax, Xan, not going anywhere," he murmurs when the other man throws himself down again, full body weight almost painful when it lands on Riley's chest. But Xander just silences him with a fierce kiss, hands grabbing onto silky blonde strands, teeth clashing in his haste and fever. Riley feels Xander's knee trying to nudge his thighs, spread them wider and he complies. Lets his hands whisper over the skin of Xander's shoulder, his back, the taut muscles on his ass that clench that much tighter when Riley lets his hands stop there.

== == == == ==

"Over, roll over..." Xander hears the harshness in his own voice, doesn't care because Riley is still a soldier to the core, he's obeying, turning on the carpet, giving Xander what he's demanding. His shoulders roll with the movements, muscles hard and graceful under tanned skin and Xander just drinks it all in.

He lets one hand drop on that swell of muscle, sees Riley lower his head, false submission in the gesture because they both know Xander would be the one on the bottom if Riley was to decide to make it so. But he ignores that fact for now, lets himself ride the vision as if it were true as his hand makes its way down the bumps of spinal column to the cleft of Riley's ass and down further to the tight ring of muscle that clenches at his touch.

Xander takes his other hand, rubs it across his own cock, lets the fingers and thumb gather slippery strands of slickness there and transfer them to Riley's flesh. Hand spread wide, his thumb glides in small circles, teasing light rhythm that has Riley panting, and it sounds a million miles away. But when he presses that thumb inside, the gasp and moan that follow are crystal clear, sharp tones that reverberate through every nerve ending in Xander's body, electric sparks that chase themselves with tingling shocks that culminate in the head of his dick and cause him to lurch forward against Riley's back.

It's all a blur after that, reaching around to grasp Riley's cock in the same hand that was just inside him, the other clenched on Riley's hip with such force that it will leave perfectly formed bruises there tomorrow, black and blue reminders of Xander's need. When Riley comes, Xander uses the handful of warm ejaculate to coat himself and push his way back where he wanted to be all along, inside of Riley, held tight by his clenching muscles, sliding in as deeply as he can get, ignoring his initial protests, paying no mind to the way Riley tries to withdraw from the quick entry.Xander knows he's being rough, can't bring himself to worry about it because it feels too good to just push and thrust, to just give in to the need. And he knows about Riley's own need, ignores the part of him that says it's wrong on a deeper level than anything else. Unspoken between them, no words to say it but Xander can always sense it hovering there.

But tonight there's no limits, there's nothing at all but the heat of Riley so tight around him, and the way he rises up on his knees with the slightest words that urge him do so. The weight of him when he lets Xander bend him so they are pressed chest to back, the ease with which Riley rolls his head and bares his neck.

The way his skin parts beneath Xander's blunt teeth and the blood begins to flow, the flavor of it echoing the way his semen tastes on the back of his throat, but hotter, saltier, tang of copper washing over his tongue. Xander slams his cock into unresisting flesh, lets his tongue work the edges of the ragged wound on Riley's shoulder, not knowing or caring which action is causing the groans of pleasure and pain that fall on his ears and spur him on to orgasm.

He lifts his head as he comes, eyes closed to the sight of blood marking the skin, but it's painted on the inside of his eyelids and he knows when he looks that it's going to be slipping down Riley's back, tracing the contours of old scars that are as obviously demonic as this newest one is human. Recklessness has crossed over the line to the gray area of insanity and Xander wonders if either of them will be able to find their way back.

=end=



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