Chapter 1: His Left Ear
Angelus tightened his grip on the wriggling figure beneath him, using knees and hands to control him. "Hold still, boy, or I'll spend the next three nights making you regret it," he growled. William obediently went lax against the mattress, and the older man grunted with satisfaction. "That's better."
"Still don't see what the big deal is," he muttered sullenly. "Not like we go muckin' about in society all that much as it is."
"Be that as it may, I am still your sire, and you will do as I tell you." Angelus picked up the sharp needle he'd plucked out of Darla's sewing kit, turning it so he could admire the shine of candlelight on metal. "And if you're going to insist upon neglecting your appearance, then you'll pay the price."
"What, the hair? You've got long hair, an' I don't see you messin' about with earbobs!"
A backhand silenced the protest, and Angelus struggled to keep his composure, reminding himself that tonight was not about beating the stupid fledgling bloody, no matter how much he wanted to. A reminder, Darla had said, something that would linger to show him and everyone else exactly who he belonged to. "I don't walk around town dressed like some street urchin, either," he stated, after counting to ten in every language he knew. "But since you seem to fancy yourself as one, I intend to make sure that your little costume is complete and fully accurate."
He bent to his task, but no sooner had the tip of the needle touched flesh than a hard shudder ripped through William's body. "Dammit, boy! If you don't hold still, I'm going to shove this thing through your eye, and it'll be almost an accident!"
William muttered something that might have been an apology, or perhaps an invitation to go to the devil. Any other night, Angelus would've dragged him down to his study, made him repeat his words, and taken great pleasure in punishing him for them, but he couldn't let anything distract him from his job here, so he chose to overlook them- for now.
A hard shove pushed the needle through his earlobe, accompanied by a loud gasp from William. For such a little hole, it bled far more than he'd expected, and once he'd slipped the permanent piece into place, Angelus bent to suckle it until the bleeding slowed and then stopped. He pulled back to admire his work, thinking once again how lovely the glint of gold was.
"Bloody hell, that hurt," William panted, staring up at him with wide eyes. "Didn't reckon a tiny thing like that was supposed to do that much damage."
Angelus laughed and set the needle aside, then stretched out over his boy's body. Tugging lightly at the small gold ring with his teeth, he rocked against the bulge in Wiliam's trousers and purred, "Now you look like a proper pirate. Of course, I'm still the one who gets the treasure..."
Chapter 2: His Nose
He'd been more than a little hesitant about the piercing. Ears, sure, and even his eyebrow, but a nose ring seemed too much like an invitation for trouble. Too easy to rip out, either in a fight or when Dru was in a temper, for starters, and then there was the risk of snagging it on one of the chains he wore for another. Plus, it itched something fierce.
But as it turned out, Dru loved it. She'd laughed with delight when he came back from a hunt one night with the tiny ring through one side of his nose, said it made him look even more like her big, bad dog, and he was more than content with that. Since then, she'd spent hours teasing it, flicking it lightly with her fingernail when they were basking in the aftermath of lovemaking. She'd even had Miss Edith's nose pierced to match after he'd refused to let her have one, although he doubted the doll's new ornament would last that long. Ringlets didn't exactly go with the punk look, after all.
In truth, he'd probably have been less willing to go through with it if he wasn't a vampire. That was one of the benefits of healing from almost anything, that he could simply take it out if he didn't like it, while the humans he saw at the clubs were stuck with the marks for the rest of their lives. He wondered if these wild children would regret this time later, when they eventually settled down and took some proper job that had them in three-piece suits and wingtips, if they'd look back on the leather and chains and piercings and cringe, or if a part of them would always want to go back to it. Of course, a good portion of those that crossed his path would never have to worry about that. He figured that was as good a gift as any - they'd always stay those rebellious kids, pierced and leather-clad and beautiful, no bitter taste of regret to haunt them at a later date, no faded memories that would forever remind them of how close they'd come to being more than ordinary. No, the ones he chose would go raging into the night, full of life and rage and music- just like Spike himself.
Chapter 3: His Tongue
It had been an impulse, really. A way to tease and taunt the Slayer, as well as remind her of his unique skills that had made her scream. He'd plotted it out pretty carefully, too, waiting until they were at one of the interminable Scooby meetings to flash her the first peek of silver, and he couldn't have asked for a better reaction. Her eyes had first narrowed, and then widened when she'd realized what he'd done. He'd have put even money on her asking for a demonstration if they'd been alone, and as it was, she'd probably have tried to drag him back to the workout room if her Watcher hadn't picked that moment to start lecturing her on the newest apocalypse that was brewing about town.
He'd put it to good use as soon as they were alone, of course. Pressed her up against one of the trees in the cemetery, dropped to his knees and pushed her skirt up, then proceeded to show her exactly why tongue piercings were hot. Dragging the stud back and forth over her clit, around and around, he pressed it against her aching nub and rocked until she moaned and shuddered in one orgasm after another. Her cream flowed into his mouth and down his chin, sticky and honeyed and musky, the nectar of the gods in the very truest sense of the words.
By the time he was through, the Slayer was a limp little puddle of goo, barely able to cling to him as he fucked her right out in the open, where anybody and everybody could see. He hadn't convinced her to stay, of course - as soon as she was able, she went tottering off on shaking legs, heading straight for the pristine sanctity of her cold bed, but he'd had the satisfaction of knowing that she had his scent blasting out of every pore of her body first. And he highly doubted she'd be able to stand long enough to wash it off, not when she was barely walking upright after his latest treat.
After that night, Spike took great delight in using his piercing to tease her. He rolled the stud along his teeth, relishing the way the faint click of metal made her shiver, flashed her quick peeks at his tongue, and sometimes drew the little ball slowly over his lips, letting her watch the play of light on silver as it moved over his mouth. It was a guaranteed way to make her start thinking about the things he could do, and he loved making her hot right in front of her Watcher and friends, loved even more the knowledge that while she might not be willing to tell them about what was going on, she ultimately couldn't deny her desire for him and the things he did for her. Forget killing a Slayer - playing with one like this, using a tiny piece of metal to bend her to his will, was the biggest rush there could possibly be. She could go on all she liked about ending things, but he didn't intend to give this kind of power up, not ever.
Chapter 4: His Nipples
He'd stripped before - it was a good source of ready cash for those times when he might be trying to lay low. Of course, Oxnard was several steps down from his usual venues, but then he'd only been planning on being there for a few nights. He hadn't counted on finding the Slayer's boy making his own living at the club as well.
The boy had been setting the dressing room up when he came across him, laying out the bottled water, oil, towels, and talcum powder the dancers required, humming tunelessly as he worked. Spike hadn't recognized him at first, aside from a vague thought that he might've seen him somewhere before, but he wasn't sure where. It wasn't until he'd changed out of his street clothes and into his thong and leather pants that it hit him. He dropped the bottle of oil he was holding, and the boy turned around to see, and that was when he recognized him.
"Spike?" He wasn't sure if the kid was about to faint or scream, so his next words were one hell of a shock. "What are you do - wait, are you dancing? Here?!?"
There was no way out of it without slaughtering half the locker room, so he retrieved his oil and poured some out into his hand, then set about slicking his arms and chest up. "Vamp's gotta work, put gas in the car an' such-like, yeah?"
"I guess." He could tell the answer didn't really pacify the boy, but he was either too shocked or too concentrated on his work to argue. Spike fell back into the familiar routine of getting ready, only to hear a strangled gasp when he slipped his hoops in. "You - you've got -"
He smirked. "What, never seen a bloke with pierced tits before, Harris?"
A tide of red creeps up the kid's neck, flushing his cheeks a rather nice pink. "I, uh, I didn't - I mean, that's -"
"Hot?" The boy nodded and Spike smiled, running a hand over his oiled chest, flicking one of the rings, making the silver hoop dance against his skin. He could feel the slow rise of heat, smell the musk of arousal thickening around him as he licked his lips. "Think it's hot lookin' at 'em, just imagine gettin' to use your teeth an' tongue on 'em," he purred.
Dark eyes glazed over at the thought, and Spike chuckled. "Tell you what, you think about it an' let me know if you fancy a closer look after my act, yeah?" He set the oil down and headed off, already looking forward to the answer he knew he'd get. As the music cued up, he strutted out onto the stage, flashing a killer smile that was designed to start his watchers creaming their panties. Might as well prove that he was worth his pay - after all, with a nice little do-gooder like the one backstage to seduce, he just might have to consider sticking around for a few extra nights.
Chapter 5: His Bellybutton
There had never really been any chance that he wouldn't agree to it. He'd have walked over hot coals at noon in the middle of the Sahara if she'd asked him to. It had been a simple request, really, a chance for her to vicariously live out some of the normal teenage rebellion she was missing out on through him. Of course, he hadn't counted on her insisting on picking it out, but even that had been worth it when he got to see her smile after it was all over.
It was almost completely healed by the time they walked into the Magic Box for the Scooby meeting, and any hopes he'd had of keeping the whole thing under wraps were shot to hell when Anya beamed at them and asked, "So, how did the piercing go?"
"Piercing?" Spike glared first at the ex-demon and then at Harris, who was grinning like an idiot at the mention of a piercing. "What'd I miss? Did Fangless decide to go even more girly than he already is?"
"Sod off, wanker," he growled. "Dawn wanted it." That was all he needed to say, and it was enough. The boy sat down in his chair and picked his book back up, and for a while, research on the latest monster threatening the Hellmouth (and geometry, in Dawn's case, although as far as she was concerned they were the same thing) continued in peace.
The quiet was broken when Spike laid his book down and stood up, stretching lazily before he went out to smoke. When he came in, Harris was grinning like a cat who'd spent at least a week feasting on canaries. "What?" he snapped, although he had a sinking feeling he knew what was coming.
Sure enough, Harris didn't disappoint. "Was that a butterfly charm I saw on your stomach, there, Spike?"
"No!" He scowled at him and hoped he didn't press the issue, but of course, Harris wasn't about to let anything drop, especially when it might prove humiliating for Spike.
"I think it was." Xander tossed his own book aside and got up, then started walking towards him. "C'mon, Spike, let's see it."
He shoved the boy's hand aside. "Get bent, mate - not showin' you shi - uh, jack," he quickly amended, remembering Dawn's presence just in time.
The two tussled for a few seconds before Xander got him backed up against one of the bookcases, and even then, there was a flurry of slaps as Spike tried to fend his hands off. Ultimately, he lost the battle and had to listen to Harris crow, "It's an angel! You've got Deadboy in your-"
"Shut it, Harris," he snarled, shoving the hand that had pushed his shirt up away. Harris didn't say anything, laughing too hard to stop him as he shouldered him aside and went to sit down again. No way in hell was Spike saying anything about the angel charm, and he certainly wasn't about to tell him what Dawn's first choice had been.
As if she'd read his mind, he heard her sweet voice pipe up, "Knock it off, Xander. We picked the angel because Spike didn't want the fairy, so -"
Another swell of laughter drowned out whatever else she was saying, and Spike groaned as he began to bang his head lightly on the table. He was glad he'd made his Bit smile, but he was pretty sure he'd have to wait a long, long time to live this particular incident down.
Chapter 6: His Cock
Of all the possible kinks his sire could've had, Spike would never have expected this. He'd figured that Angel would be surprised to discover his piercing, but he couldn't possibly have predicted how turned on and fascinated he would be with it. As soon as he saw the glint of silver inside Spike's foreskin, he dropped to his knees to investigate, touching it lightly with his fingers, teasing it with soft circular strokes while he jacked him slowly. "That is so hot," he breathed, glancing from the piercing to Spike's face and back again, reluctant to look away for long.
That alone would've been enough to make him harder than he'd been in recent memory, but when Angel leaned forward and started licking over the piercing, tracing it with his tongue and sucking on the tip of his cock, Spike was hard pressed not to come right then and there. He slid a hand into the dark hair, crunchy and stiff with gel, and held on while his sire's tongue delved inside his foreskin, sliding around the tiny silver stud, driving him a little more insane with every lick. Angel's moan vibrated deliciously against his cock, wrenching an answering moan from his lips as he tried to decide which was a bigger turn on, the soft flicker of a tongue on his dick or Angel's obvious enjoyment and arousal over his piercing.
He'd been drunker than all get-out when he had it done, and he still didn't remember most of it, just the debate with the man who'd done it as to what kind he wanted. A PA would've been the obvious choice, but Spike fancied something a little more subtle, hidden within like a surprise, and from Angel's reaction to it, he appreciated that little touch. Another sweep of a wet tongue wiggled the piercing slightly, and Spike wondered how long he was going to be able to hold off before he lost it.
Angel looked up at him, dark eyes glittering with heat and need. "This is... so hot," he repeated, licking it again, a broad swipe that had his hips thrusting forward automatically. "Does it - does it feel different when you fuck someone?"
Time seemed to stop, and Spike was grateful he didn't have to breathe. "Dunno," he replied carefully. "Never fucked anyone that's had it from me both ways."
A slow smile sent heat rushing through him. "Maybe I could be the first, then."