Author’s Notes: This isn’t a parody exactly, but it’s not completely to be taken seriously either. I’m playing with the conventions of the “teen” genre here, and much of this is meant to be very tongue-in-cheek. So if something seems very contrived or “done before,” it’s probably intentional. (And no, that’s not just an excuse to be a lazy author. Really… *wink*)
However, just because this is mainly a fun, comedic sort of fic, it doesn’t mean it will be all fluffy happiness all the time. There is conflict. Sometimes, the characters will be sad. Such is life. If you can’t deal with that, don’t come crying to me about it. I’ll write what I want to write, and that’s that.
It was supposed to be a magical night. She’d had it all planned out in her mind, how it was going to be beautiful, and how afterwards he’d hold her and tell her he loved her.
And then, they were going to live happily ever after.
Instead she felt belittled, dirty, and humiliated.
And she didn’t know what had happened to her underwear.
She squirmed uncomfortably on her front porch, knowing she should go inside but too terrified to face her mother. Would she be able to tell from just a look what Buffy had been doing when she’d claimed to have been at the library studying?
Did moms have some sort of alarm for that?
“Oi, Summers, why so glum? Break a nail?”
Oh god… Buffy groaned internally, and silently asked God what she’d done to deserve this. This was the worst day of her life, and now she had to deal with him?
She forced a smile as she looked up at her neighbor, the aptly named Spike Pratt. Well, at least the “Pratt” part. Or maybe the “Spike,” too, if the giggles around the school were to be believed. She chose not to go down that mental road.
“Go away, Spike. I’m not in the mood for you today.” She turned her head, sticking her nose in the air.
“Aww, what’s the matter, princess? Did you have a lovers’ quarrel with your big hunk of forehead?” Spike sneered.
Buffy wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. Not in front of him.
She burst into tears.
“Oh, bollocks,” Spike muttered under his breath, watching Buffy for a moment. He’d known the girl since he and his uncle had moved in next door, and never once had he seen her in tears. Angry, haughty, incredibly bitchy, sure. But never crying.
Spike had always taken great pleasure in tormenting her. It was so easy, and she always gave back as good as she got. But he’d never made her cry…
He sighed and sat beside her, one silver-ringed hand reaching out to pat her back before he pulled it away and decided he didn’t want to go that far. “Sorry, Summers. I didn’t realize I was hitting the mark there.”
“Just go away, Spike. I so don’t need you mocking me.”
“I’m not gonna mock you.”
“You always mock me.”
“Then I’m calling a temporary cease fire. Even I’m not enough of a bastard to poke fun at someone who’s just had her heart broken.”
Buffy turned towards him and wiped her eyes. Spike knew about getting your heart broken? Spike had a heart?
“Whatever it is, ducks, it’ll turn out all right. You’re one of those perfect, smiley couples. You’ll be snogging in the cafeteria come Monday.”
“I’m bad in bed.”
Spike coughed, her blurted declaration taking him completely and totally by surprise. He’d expected something like she’d spilled her soda pop on his letter jacket. Not…that. “You…you are?” he asked, having no idea what else to say.
“Yeah,” Buffy said, sniffling. She didn’t know why she was telling him this. It was humiliating and she was revealing it to her mortal enemy.
“I don’t see how that could be possible, hot lil’ thing like you.”
Buffy turned towards him her eyes wide. “Huh?”
“Oh, come on, Summers. You’ve gotta know you’re hot.”
“But you… You, y’know, hate me…”
“Well, of course. I loathe you. But I’m not blind.”
Buffy blushed and turned away from him. This was not how things were supposed to go with Spike. They snarked, they hated, they yelled at each other from across the lawn.
They didn’t do…well, whatever they were doing now.
Although when she was being honest with herself, Spike wasn’t too bad to look at either. Sure, he had that whole stupid punk thing going on and his hair was a major disaster, but he did have pretty eyes. And nice cheekbones. And she’d seen him shirtless before, so she knew he must work out or something.
Suddenly, she was getting an idea. An insane, mindless idea born of desperation. An idea she should just kick out of her brain now before she ever, ever spoke it out loud.
“Teach me how to have sex.”
Spike had to grab the step to keep from falling forward onto the lawn. “What?”
Buffy knew if she had any sense at all, she would’ve run into her house and hidden away for days. But she was desperate, and right now, she wasn’t seeing any other way. Angel didn’t want her because she wasn’t good in bed. So if she was good in bed, then he’d want her again. And how else could she get good in bed if someone didn’t teach her?
“Teach me how to have sex,” she said, more confident this time. “I mean, I know you know how. I’ve heard, like, all the other cheerleaders talk about it.”
Spike smirked. “Yeah? What did they say?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Ugh. I’m not telling you.”
“But you’ll ask me to fuck you.”
Buffy held out her hand. “Whoa. I didn’t say that. I asked you to teach me how to have sex.”
“And wouldn’t that entail…”
“No!” Buffy said, cutting him off. “We’ll…we’ll do it with our clothes on.”
Spike had always thought Buffy was a little…off. But he’d never realized she was quite this insane. “You want me to have sex with you with my clothes on?”
“No actual sex,” Buffy said. “Just…y’know…show me what to do.”
Spike looked around the yard. “Is this a joke? Are you filming me for some sort of humiliation later?”
“Believe me, no. I’d be way more humiliated than you.”
“Then you’re serious.”
“I… No way,” Spike said, shaking his head. This wasn’t a good idea. As a matter of fact, this was probably the mother of all bad ideas. As hot as Buffy Summers was, he didn’t want to fake shag her. Especially so she could please that wanker she was all moony-eyed over.
“Spike, please. I wouldn’t be asking you this if I didn’t really, really need your help. I love him. I can’t lose him because of this, okay?”
Spike wanted to tell her Angel was a worthless git who wasn’t even good enough for her anyway, and that if he didn’t know how to make her wild in bed, then he was the one who needed some sex pointers.
He ran his hand through his pale white hair, ruffling the spikes. “So…uh…you wanna do this now?”
“What?! No! I’ll… I’m free tomorrow.”
This was the part where he told her her plan was crazy and walked away before they both did something they’d regret. She was just upset after what happened with the gigantic wanker, and she wasn’t thinking clearly.
“It’s Sunday, so I’ll be up around two. My uncle’s out of town again, so you can just come by. We’ll have privacy.”
“Okay.” Buffy blushed a little. “Thanks. I…I know we don’t really get along, so, well…I appreciate you doing this.”
“Yeah, well, I…yeah.”
Buffy looked down. “So… This is a little awkward now.”
“Yeah, I…” Spike stood up. “I’m gonna go.”
“Right. I’ll, you know, see you tomorrow.”
Buffy watched Spike jog back over to his house and wondered what the hell she had just done. She hated Spike. She’d hated him since the moment he’d first swaggered out of that house and sneered at her. What sort of fifteen year old sneered anyway?
And he hadn’t changed a bit either. Three years later and he was still as much of an asshole as he’d been when he’d first moved to the States with his uncle. He had horrible, horrible fashion sense, no filter on his mouth, and was a total man-slut.
Which made him the perfect person to help her carry out this crazy scheme.
She didn’t want to do it. She couldn’t stand the guy, and the idea of touching him – even controlled touching – was so not something she wanted to do.
“It’s for Angel,” she told herself. “You have to do this so Angel will be happy.”
Because if she looked at it like that, it made complete sense.
Not sure if she felt better or worse, Buffy went back into her house.
*** *** ***
What exactly did one wear to have fake sex?
Buffy stared at her closet, at a complete loss when it came to the answer to that question. If she wore something too sexy, then it would be too much like an actual date and not a, well, study date. But if she wore something too frumpy, then Spike might tell her he’d changed his mind.
She finally decided on jeans and a cute top with a bit of a scoop neck but nothing too revealing. She checked herself out in the mirror, deciding the outfit would do.
Buffy called out a good-bye to her mom before jogging outside and over to Spike’s house, immediately knocking on the backdoor. She wasn’t going to give herself time to chicken out.
“You’re doing this for Angel,” she reminded herself for what had to be the thousandth time since she’d come up with this plan. “You love him too much to leave him disappointed.” She’d just have to keep herself focused completely on Angel.
The door opened, and she saw Spike, leaning against the jamb. His hair was a mess, his shirt was off, and his worn, black jeans were slung low on his hips.
“’Lo, pet. Ready to learn how to please a man?”
He ran his tongue over his teeth and smirked at her, and Buffy’s eyes grew impossibly large.
Spike cocked an eyebrow. “Mind repeating that in English, luv?”
Buffy took a deep breath and got a handle on herself. This was Spike. Icky, nasty Spike. Who she was going to have fake sex with.Right.
“Put a shirt on. I’m not even going to be able to fake being into it if I have to look at your pale self.”
Spike decided to give in, but only because he had already seen her reaction. He’d put his shirt on – and he knew damn good and well she’d be taking it back off of him. “Yeah, all right. Come on up to my room and I’ll put one on before we get started.”
“Your room?” Buffy asked, her voice squeaking. “We’re going to your room?”
“Well, yeah. I think kitchen sex is a more advanced lesson, luv.”
“Kitchen…” Buffy shook her head. She had to stop doing…whatever it was she was doing. It was time to be all business. “Fine, we’ll go to your bedroom. But stop calling me ‘luv.’ I don’t like it.”
Spike bit back a smirk. Sure she didn’t… “Whatever you say, Summers. This way.”
Buffy followed Spike further into the house, realizing in the three years she’d lived next door to him, she’d never seen past the door. He led her upstairs, into a room that, had she been told to pick his room out of a line up, it would’ve been the one she chose.
It was a mess, his ugly punk clothes thrown all over the floor. His bed was rumbled, a black comforter wadded up in the middle. The walls were covered in posters for bands Buffy wouldn’t listen to if someone paid her, and several haphazard stacks of CD’s were in front of his stereo.
“Okay, I am so not getting on that bed. It looks…icky.”
“Don’t worry, Summers. I’ve washed the sheets since the last time I had a bird in here.”
“Oh, gee. Now I feel all better.”
Spike picked up a black t-shirt that was draped over his television and slipped it on. “Look, are we doing this or not? I have better things I could be doing than taking pity on almost-virgins.”
Buffy glared at him, her nostrils flaring, and Spike had to contain his smirk. He loved it when she got all angry… “Oh, we’re doing this,” she snapped.
He moved closer to her and smiled a slow, dangerous smile. “Then get on the bed.”
For a moment, Buffy hesitated. Did she really want to do this? As much as she wanted to please Angel, this was a pretty desperate attempt at getting her boyfriend back.
Yes, it was desperate, but she loved Angel…
She smoothed the blanket over the bed before she lay back on the pillows. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
“Lie back and think of England.”
Buffy turned her head. “Huh?”
Spike suppressed a smirk. “You’re stiff as a board, Summers.”
“Well, I’m nervous,” Buffy admitted.
“Lesson the first. You can’t be nervous.”
“But how can I not be nervous! It’s…” She lowered her voice down to a whisper. “It’s sex.”
“We’re gonna have sex?” Spike asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“No! Not us! I just mean…y’know…when I get Angel back…we’ll have sex.”
Spike swaggered over to the bed and sat down at the edge, the look on his face putting butterflies in Buffy’s stomach. She decided it was all the nerves.
“It’s all about the passion, pet. When you want someone so bad you feel like you’ll die if you don’t have them.” He smirked and ghosted his fingertips against her denim-covered hip.
“A…Angel and I have passion,” Buffy said, her voice trembling.
“Yeah?” Spike crawled over her, bracing himself on his hands. “Then why are you with me?”
Suddenly, Spike was kissing her, his tongue pushing into her mouth before Buffy even had a chance to realize what was happening. He thrust his hips into hers, grinding against her, and Buffy’s eyes grew wide.
Spike hadn’t really known what he was going to do when Buffy came over today. He’d been deciding how to handle this right up to the moment he’d had her in his bedroom. Then, he’d made up his decision.
He was gonna go for it…
He didn’t like the chit. Could barely stand her, really. But she was a hot little number, and if that poofter Angel couldn’t appreciate her in bed, well, Spike decided he wasn’t going to pass up the chance.
“Kiss me back, pet. Don’t just lie there. C’mon, show me what you got.”
Don’t just lie there… That had been exactly what Angel had accused her of, and the reminder of it made Buffy angry. Spike didn’t think she could show passion either, huh? She’d show him…
She grabbed the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his bleached hair as she pushed him harder against her mouth. Her legs went around his hips, and she ground against him, giving him a taste of what this would be if it were more than a “lesson.”
Spike nipped at her bottom lip, forgetting where he was and what he was doing. All he knew was he had a goddess writhing beneath him and his cock was rock hard in his jeans.
Buffy broke away from his mouth and moaned, loudly, and added a hip shimmy to her thrust.
Spike didn’t realize what was happening until he was coming in his pants.
He pulled away and looked down at her, shock on his face. Buffy stared at him, her eyes huge, before her mouth set in a line.
He waited for her response; he got it when she slapped him.
Spike jumped off the bed. “What the hell was that for?”
“You…you… Ew, Spike!”
“You were grindin’ against me!” Spike yelled. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got a penis – you wriggle that hot lil’ body of yours against it, it’s gonna go off.”
She was breathing heavily, disheveled, and Spike decided that was totally worth getting slapped in the face and having a mess in his pants. She’d been into that, too…
He stuck his thumbs into his belt loops and grinned smugly at her. “Well, I’d say you passed your first lesson, pet. You’ve mastered the missionary position.”
Buffy gasped, outrage and shock on her face before she fled the room.
“You asked me to do it!” Spike yelled after her, but he only heard the door slam in response.
“Bloody bitch,” Spike grumbled, though he couldn’t bring himself to be overly angry at her. He’d had one hell of an orgasm.
Without even taking off his pants. Damn…
So maybe irritating chit extraordinaire Buffy Summers was good for something anyway. If she’d made him feel that way just wiggling around beneath him, then how would it be if they were actually having sex?
Oh, he wanted to know. He had to know.
He was going to know.
A grin spread across Spike’s face. She’d run off now, but she’d be back. And when she was…
He was going to seduce her.
A/N: Thoughts on the first chapter? Are people going to be reading this one?