Knock on Wood by Eowyn315

Chapter #1 - Knock on Wood

A/N: Lots of thanks to ClawofCat for the title, for betaing, and for the silly conversation that inspired the door porn. This one's for you, babe. ***** He’d just sprinkled the burba weed into his blood when he felt the shiver go up his spine. Slayer. He paused, mug in hand, unable to hold back a smile as he glanced toward the door. She was out there, hesitating, like she always did, wrestling with her inner demons before she inevitably succumbed to need and desire and came to him. Setting down the mug, he crossed the crypt and pressed his hands against the door. Drawing in a breath, he let his fingertips slide across the stone, imagining he was caressing her soft skin instead. He could sense her on the other side, could hear her breathing, her heartbeat, the soft crunching of the leaves at her feet. Every nerve ending tingled with her nearness. Closing his eyes, he pressed his body against the door, the stone cold against his tepid flesh where his unbuttoned shirt left his chest exposed. He tilted his head forward until his forehead rested on the door, his own breath coming faster as he listened to hers speed up on the opposite side of the barrier. He could face her, force her to make the decision, but he waited instead, savoring the anticipation, drinking in the teasing sensations that flooded his body. His lips brushed against the stone as though it were her forehead; his hands ran over the smooth surface imagining it was her body. Letting out a soft moan, his hips thrust toward her, his hardened cock chafing against his jeans as his pelvis grazed the door. One hand slipped downward, his fingers trailing along the flat stone until they dropped away from the door and connected with denim-clad flesh. Swiftly undoing his fly, his erection sprung into his waiting fist. He leaned into the door, stroking himself against it, feeling the coolness as his cock slid easily against the hard granite. He was thrusting against it now, groaning as he pictured Buffy on the other side, listening, feeling him, filling her senses the way she overwhelmed his. He could smell her arousal, though he wasn’t sure if it was real or just sense memory. He squeezed his cock and pressed it into the door as he rubbed his hips up and down. “Buffy,” he growled, and the answering gasp reassured him that she was still there. He spun around, his back hitting the door hard as he began to stroke furiously, his head tipped back and his eyes squeezed shut. He remembered when she was invisible, and she’d had him up against the wall like this, her hot little mouth on his cock. Rubbing hard enough to get some heat from the friction, he imagined being inside her, nestled in her warmth, her body slick with sweat as she moved against him. His breath coming in sharp gasps, he turned around, pressed his face against the door as he cried her name, come spurting over his hand and splattering on the door. His other hand scraped at the stone, yearning to touch her, to hold her. Needing more than just her ghost, he flung open the door to find himself alone, the only sign that she’d been there at all the lingering scent of her arousal in the air.