Slim, soft, surprisingly strong hands pushed against his chest.
His back hit the painted wall, hard, and the air in his lungs was expelled in a whoosh.
He gasped for breath then froze as the tip of a cool tongue began to move invitingly over his still-parted lips.
Eyes widening, he opened his mouth slowly, experimentally. The fleshy tip slipped inside and proceeded to explore, slowly at first, then more demandingly … more thoroughly than he could have believed possible. His gums, teeth, palate were treated to a forensic examination that made his heart thump and his pupils dilate.
The first stirring of his cock came as a surprise. This was supposed to be damned disturbing, not arousing. Why the hell was he letting this happen? Why was it a huge turn on when the mouth moving against his turned slightly to gain better access, sealing their lips, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around his body possessively and pulled him tight against a hard body.
He gasped again when a hand snaked down between their bodies and began to rub his cock, rapidly bringing it to full erection. His zipper was pulled down and his prick jumped out gratefully, eager to be fondled and stroked and ...
Oh, fuuuck!
Someone else's hand. His own hand he could deal with. Hell, he was so accustomed to his own five fingered attentions it was embarrassing.
But his own fingers had never been this clever, this sensitive.
This was so good. Unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Cordy had talked big but always chickened out when it came to the actual touching stuff. Faith hadn't been much interested in foreplay. Or afterplay that didn't involve his premature demise. His other 'lovers' ... Well, his sensitivities hadn't been forefront in their minds.
Those clever, knowing fingers stroked his shaft, using his own pre-come to lubricate their journey. Up and down, around and about. Over the head, down to the balls, back to ...
Oh, fuckety fuck, fuck!
Another hand had joined the first and a finger was playing gently across his perineum and stroking softly against his pucker.
His balls tightened and with a shout he came, semen shooting generously across the body still plastered against his, the only thing holding him upright.
Four simple words cut through his post-orgasmic haze.
"My turn now, pet."
He shook his head and focused on the blue stare drilling into him.
Rousing himself, he thought carefully for a moment then sank to his knees.
"Okay."
After all, fair was fair. He felt wanted and cared for. Someone cared about him. He wanted to show his gratitude.
He opened his mouth.
Spike stared at Xander, bemused.
"What do you mean, you think we should take a break?"
Xander shuffled his feet, staring at the floor, at the ceiling, anywhere but into those hurt blue eyes.
"I just mean, I'm not sure this is working out for me."
Spike frowned. "Having the best sex in your miserable history of crap sex isn't working out for you? Having the best sex you'll ever have isn't working out for you?" He was rapidly working himself into a fury. "You have the best lover in the entire world fucking you on a regular basis and it isn't working out for you?!"
"Well, that's the thing." Xander straightened and finally looked at the pissed off vampire. "You always fuck me. I just feel like any warm body would do it for you." He thought for a moment. "Or any room temperature body, come to that."
His sense of ill usage grew. "You don't care about me. Just about getting off. If you cared about me even a little bit you'd let me fuck you every once in a while. So we could be, like, equal partners in this ... whatever it is."
Spike climbed down from his snit and furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "I thought you liked what we were doing."
"I do, Spike. I love what we're doing. I just want ... more."
"What's that s’posed to mean? More what?"
Okay, so Spike wasn't going to make this easy for him.
Xander waved his hands about impotently. "More relationshippy stuff. More snuggles. More ... more me doing you. Even once. Maybe I don't always wanna bottom. Did you ever think about that? Huh?"
Spike stared at him in something akin to horror. "Boy, I'm a Master Vampire. Just because my fangs have been pulled, metaphorically speaking, doesn't mean that's changed. I top. Every time. End of story."
Xander's shoulder's slumped. "Okay. I guess that is the end of this story. Shame. I kinda wanted to see how it turned out." He turned and started to walk away but stopped when a pale hand landed on his shoulder, gripping almost hard enough to hurt.
Spike spun Xander around to face him. "You're serious, aren't you? You'd really say ta-ta, thanks for the fish, no more for this little soldier ..."
"There are fish? Where are the fish? Spike, what the hell are you talking about?"
Spike sighed heavily. "Bloody Americans. More culture in a pot of yogurt."
Long fingers began to stroke caressingly up and down Xander’s bare arms. “You know you don’t mean it, pet. We’re good together, we are. A bit of fun, a few laughs …”
Xander pulled away sharply. “That’s it? That’s all it ever was to you?”
Spike was shocked to hear a slight tremble in the boyish tones. He frowned. “Well, yeah. I mean … what else was it supposed to be?"
Xander’s heart shattered very slowly, the sharp fragments seeming to pierce his chest, as he processed the vampire’s words.
Spike wasn’t supposed to call his bluff! He was supposed to hold him, hug him, tell him he was right -- that they had a relationship and they cared about one another and …
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Spike was supposed to pull him into his arms and comfort him and tell him he … he loved him.
Unrealistic, naive, dumb as shit?
He suddenly understood the full, ridiculous extent of his self-delusion. He’d been kidding himself for weeks now that they had something special, that Spike was beginning to care as much for him as he cared for the vampire. He should have known he was fooling himself. Should have taken the hint when Spike was so careful to treat him with his usual dismissiveness when they were around the rest of the gang. Even when they were alone, it was an event if Spike kissed him. Fucked him, yeah, but kiss him? Not so much.
What the hell had he been thinking? Of course Spike was only using him. He'd never pretended anything else. No declarations of love, just the same old snarky insults.
He almost laughed at himself but managed to stifle the sound, afraid it would turn into a sob. He had to get out of this situation with some dignity. He wasn't going to fall apart in front of Spike. Later would be time enough.
"I think you'd better go, Spike. It's over. If I didn't know it before, I do now. You're a cold, heartless, evil --"
"Well, yeah, pet. I'm a vampire. Cold, heartless and evil kinda comes with the territory."
Spike had no idea what the fuck was going on. Why was the boy giving him grief? Not like this was some big romance or nothin'. It was just a way to pass the time. Not as much fun as slaughter and mayhem, maybe, but he'd enjoyed the sex-on-tap and didn't much want it to end. Not until he said it should, anyway. Maybe a bit of distraction was called for. He'd always prided himself on his powers of seduction.
He placed his hands on broad, bare shoulders and pulled Xander towards him. Wrapping his arms firmly around the brunet's waist, he tucked his head into the crook of Xander's neck and swiped a broad, wide, wet lick up his neck then sucked an earlobe into his mouth and nibbled gently. He grinned when he heard Xander's deep-throated growl. Got him! No more insane talk about ending this --
"Stop it!" Xander pulled out of Spike's embrace and stepped back a long pace. "Didn't you listen to a word I said? For God's sake, Spike, show a bit of respect for me, will you?"
Spike's anger returned ten-fold. How dare this ... human talk to him like that. Didn't he remember who he was dealing with? He should be flattered a Master Vampire had even deigned to touch him, never mind bothered to lube him up before fucking him.
He arched an eyebrow. "You want respect? Maybe you shouldn't bend over for the first guy who asks," he said nastily.
Xander's eyes widened. They were much too bright but Spike was too furious to notice, never mind wonder why. "Yeah, I guess that was my big mistake. You should be proud of yourself, Platinum Wonder. You took a normal, straighter 'n' straight, All-American guy and made him your fuck toy. Congratulations. Now, go bask. I wanna go to bed. Alone."
Spike realised that he'd made a tactical error. The boy was chucking him out and he'd spend the night alone in a cold, dank crypt rather than wrapped around Xander's luscious warm body, covered in clean sheets, with the prospect of waking with a hot mouth wrapped around his cock.
"Xan," he wheedled, "don't be like that. You know I didn't mean it."
Xander laughed bitterly. "Of course you meant it. You think I'm dirt under your feet. Well, this piece of shit is finally standing up for itself. Fuck off!"
Spike pulled himself up to his not very impressive full height. "Fine. You don't have to tell me twice." He raised a hand as Xander opened his mouth to speak. "Okay, you have told me twice. Well, you don't have to tell me again. I'm out of this dump. And don't think you can sweet-talk me into coming back. Ever!"
He turned on his heel and wrenched open the door. He couldn't resist a parting shot over his shoulder. "And tell the next guy your blow jobs need work." Then he was gone, the slam of the door echoing around the suddenly too empty apartment.
Xander turned blindly, heading for the bedroom. The bedroom he'd been sharing with a gorgeous, blue-eyed, blond vampire for the last month. He stopped in the doorway, staring at the rumpled sheets, then slowly sank to the floor, the tears finally falling. He crawled across the floor on hands and knees and pulled himself onto the mattress, hauling the covers over his shaking frame. It was a relief to finally give way to his overwrought emotions, and he sobbed uncontrollably until his exhausted mind and body shut down and he slept.
Spike paced agitatedly from one side of the crypt to the other, wearing a track in the beaten earth. What the hell had just happened? What had gone so wrong? He and the boy had been having fun, hadn't they? No messy emotions, no jealousy. Just a good time being had by all. No harm, no foul.
He stopped in his tracks. Maybe the whelp was interested in someone else. Maybe all this had just been an excuse to break up with him. He'd always been suspicious of the lad's close relationship with the red-headed bint. No such thing as a platonic friendship between a man and a woman, he figured. Never happened. Hell, look at When Harry Met Sally. Went to prove the point.
His eyes narrowed. Bloody moron. What'd she have to offer that he didn't? He was smarter, better looking, better in bed than any female.
She was soft and round and curvy. He had abs you could bounce a penny off and a thick cock that just begged to be rubbed and sucked and shoved into a grasping arsehole. There was no comparison.
Well, it was Xander's loss. He wasn't going to lose any sleep over the boy's stupidity.
Two hours later, Spike was still pacing and still trying to figure out why a good thing had suddenly gone pear-shaped.
*****
Xander woke the next morning with a crashing headache and a leaden lump in his chest. He snapped off the alarm clock and dragged himself into the shower. The hot, stinging spray helped bring him to alertness and the aspirins he knocked back with strong black coffee would alleviate the throbbing in his head eventually. He hoped.
Well, that'd teach him. He'd taken a risk and lost. Would he change anything? Fuck, yeah!
Pride was seriously over-rated. He'd rather wake up with Spike any day than with this sinking feeling of regret and the certainty that he'd spend the rest of his life alone, no matter how many people, male or otherwise, shared his bed. That stupid, insensitive, beautiful vampire was the love of his life and he'd never truly be happy with anyone else. He'd tasted heaven and let it slip away. How could he have been so dumb? So what if Spike had shown absolutely no sign of wanting commitment -- Xander could deal.
At least now he could be more certain of staying non-vampirey. He was pretty sure that when Spike got his bite back he'd have been first in line for the turning. Or the killing. Must remember to tote stake at all times, in case of irritated, bite-enabled vampire on the loose. He snorted. Yeah, like he could ever dust that particular vampire. He'd shoot himself first. Must remember to carry gun at all times, in case of sudden need to shoot self.
He sighed and scrabbled around on the bedroom floor, looking for some relatively clean clothes to wear to work. Laundry had been taking second place to an undead bleach blond for quite a while now.
*****
Xander trudged into the Magic Box, lattes in one hand, a box of pastries in the other. A hard day of sawdust creation had done nothing to alleviate the tightness in his chest but he was trying very hard to pretend that everything was fine and dandy. The rest of the team had never known about him and Spike so at least there wouldn’t be any awkward questions.
He suddenly felt even more depressed. Spike hadn’t wanted them to know. He’d been ashamed of him. He looked around surreptitiously, but the blond menace was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, Xan,” called Willow from her perch on the counter. She marked her place in the book balanced on her lap and set it down beside her. “Ooh, food. And coffee!”
“Yeah, a guy bearing caffeine is always welcome,” grinned Buffy from her seat at the research table. “Right now, a demon bearing caffeine’d be welcome.”
Xander walked over to the table and set down his cargo. Coffees and donuts were rapidly claimed by his friends.
“What’s shakin’, fellow destroyers of things that go ‘grrrr' in the night? Another apocalypse, maybe? It’s been … um, months since the last one.”
Giles smiled primly. “Very amusing, Xander. There’s no fresh apocalypse in the offing, to the best of my knowledge, but there have been reports of a teenage gang on PCP raging through the cemeteries, so …”
“So, there’s a new nest of vamps in town. Damn, you’d think they’d be smart enough to stay away from the Slayer’s home turf. Why don’t they ever go to Santa Barbara or Abilene or New York or ... anywhere but Sunnydale?”
“Really, Xander,” chided Giles. “You know perfectly well that they are drawn here by the presence of the Hellmouth, which is precisely why Sunnydale is Buffy’s … er, home turf. In any case ---"
He was pulled up short by the sound of the front door being kicked off its hinges. A game-faced, platinum blond vampire stood in the damaged entrance. A furious growl echoed around the room.
Xander's mouth dropped open as he stared at his erstwhile lover, at the lithe, leather-clad body framed in the doorway and the alien features, further distorted by shadows from the room lights. He hadn't seen Spike's demon face for a very long time. Not since well before they'd started fucking. Not since ... not since Spike had started wooing him. His mind wandered off at a tangent, unwilling to face the reality of the scene unfolding before him.
Wooing him. Sounded kind of romantic when he put it that way. Who was he kidding? He hadn't been wooed. That'd suggest some kind of romantic intention on Spike's part. Romance hadn't exactly featured large in what they'd had. Only sex. It had all been about the sex.
Why hadn't Spike shown his true visage in their more ... intimate moments? The answer was obvious. Spike didn't trust him. He'd hidden this part of himself, tried to pretend they were a 'normal' couple so Xander wouldn't run screaming from the room at the reminder that he was sharing his bed with the evil undead.
He snickered to himself. Apparently the bitter sound wasn't quite as silent as he'd hoped. Everyone in the room, including the creature standing in the doorway, turned to stare at him.
Spike shook his head slightly, his face falling into its customary delicate, sharp planes. He strode across the room to stand in front of Xander and grabbed a handful of the young man's shirt. His other hand reached down to cup Xander's groin, the action concealed by his body.
"She can't have you," he almost spat in Xander's face. "You're mine. You've always been mine, always will be mine. Nothing can change that." His voice, already too quiet to be heard by the other inhabitants of the room, dropped further as he squeezed Xander's flaccid cock. "This belongs to me," he ground out. "She can't have it; can't have you."
Xander was bemused. "Who can't? What are you talking about?"
His eyes were dragged away from the sapphire gaze boring into him when he noticed a movement over Spike's shoulder. Buffy was bearing down on them, stake at the ready. Her intention was very clear.
For a moment it occurred to Xander that this would be the easiest way out. A quick thrust of a pointy stick and his problems would be over. No more wondering about whether breaking up with Spike had been a good idea, no more angsting about whether he'd ever be able to rest easy again at night without blond curls tickling his chin and a cool, muscular arm wrapped around his waist. The biggest question would be how hot a wash was needed to get rid of vamp dust from his t-shirt.
The moment stretched out endlessly. Buffy's arm was now raised, preparing to strike. She was only a pace away. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.
Xander quickly spun around, taking Spike with him, his body shielding the vampire's. He felt a sharp pain in his back and fell to the floor in agony.
******
Xander slowly swam back to consciousness. A cacophony of voices assaulted his ears and he tried desperately to separate out the various strands. It seemed very important, somehow, to figure out what the hell everyone was saying.
"Really, Spike, how did you expect Buffy to react when you behaved in such an intemperate manner?"
"Stupid vampire guy. What was all that about, anyway?"
"You're just lucky I managed to pull back in time. Xander could be dead right now. I should have dusted you years ago."
"Yeah, yeah, Slayer. Find a new tune, why don't ya? Right now, we have to get Xan fixed up."
Xander was picked up and laid very gently on the couch then turned face down, his head resting on muscular thighs. He heard a rip as his shirt was pulled apart to bare the wound on his back then felt glorious coolness as it was bathed with clean water smelling faintly of disinfectant.
Buffy watched as Spike carefully cleaned the seeping gash. Now that the shock of almost killing one of her best friends had muted to a dull anxiety, the mental wheels had started turning again.
"Why did Xander do that?" she asked.
"Why did he do what?" replied Spike distractedly.
"Why did he protect you like that?"
Spike looked down at Xander's dark head wonderingly, finally taking in the fact that the boy had saved his life at the risk of his own. "I don't know. He doesn't even like me." He likes what I do to him but he hates all vampires, including me. Doesn't he?
Xander sighed almost happily, unaware of the conversation but enjoying the vampire's touch. This wasn't so bad. This he could learn to enjoy. He felt cared for and protected and ... loved? He shook his head minutely. No, not loved. No-one loved him. He'd long since established that to his unwilling satisfaction. He guessed he just wasn't the lovable type. Or ... maybe Willow? Nah. Not even Willow. His eyes teared up as self-pity overtook him. "Nobody loves me," he muttered, the words muffled by black denim.
The thighs against which his face was resting tensed but the hand stroking a damp cloth soothingly over his back never stopped moving.
"What did he say?" Buffy's voice seemed to come from very far away.
"Nothing," said Spike quickly. "Nothing important."
Yep, that was him. Nothing important.
"He'll be fine," continued the blond. "The wound isn't very deep. It's already stopped bleeding. He should be at home, in bed. Rupert, can you give us a lift to our ... to his place?"
Giles was confused. Spike was treating Xander as carefully as though he were made of the finest porcelain. And apparently intended to continue in that vein. No pun intended. To the best of the Watcher's knowledge, this was not typical vampire behaviour. Good Lord, Spike hadn't even attempted to sneak a taste of Xander's blood!
"Very well, Spike. But I sincerely hope we're not going to see a repeat of your earlier dramatics. And, incidentally, perhaps you'd like to share the reason for that little performance with the room?"
Spike chuckled, careful not to jar the body resting across his legs. "Don't think so, Watcher. Just take it from me, snit over. No action replay any time soon."
"Hmm. Very well. I see little choice but to trust you since we can't very well watch over Xander on a twenty four hour basis. But, believe me ---"
"I know. If Xander comes to any harm while he's with me you'll make sure the Slayer stakes me, yaddah, yaddah."
Giles glared sternly at the blond vampire. "Quite," he clipped out.
"It'd be my pleasure," said Buffy, her voice dripping with venom.
"Me too."
Giles and Buffy turned to look enquiringly at the redhead.
"Okay, so maybe I couldn't actually stake him. He moves pretty fast. But I could turn him into a toad or something." Willow eyed Spike speculatively. She wondered if he'd be a white toad or just the regular green variety.
Giles rolled his eyes then returned to the business at hand. "Spike, if you carry Xander to the car I'll drive you to his apartment and help put him to bed. I'm a little concerned about leaving him alone, though. There's small risk of infection and the injury isn't sufficiently severe to warrant hospital attention but he's clearly in shock ---"
"Don't worry, Rupert. I'll stay with him." Spike bridled at the suspicious glances directed his way. "What? I can sleep on the couch and check on him occasionally."
The older man mentally shrugged. He'd done all he could to safeguard Xander's well-being. And for some reason he found himself trusting Spike. Perhaps an apocalypse was pending, after all. When he saw the tenderness with which the vampire lifted Xander into his arms he felt further reassured. He headed out of the shop's entrance and to his car, unlocking it and holding open the back door so that Spike could lay his burden on the seat.
To Giles' surprise, Spike climbed into the back and carefully placed an arm around the brunet, obviously intending to protect Xander's wound during the short trip to his apartment.
Twenty minutes later, Xander was tucked comfortably into bed, face down, a clean cotton bandage secured loosely over his injury and the covers pulled up to his waist. He'd regained his senses sufficiently to insist on walking to the bedroom but had quickly drifted off to sleep once his head hit the pillow. A natural sleep, Giles was pleased to note.
After a brief argument, Giles and Spike had decided to remove all the younger man's clothes except his boxers. Spike could have told the Watcher that Xander preferred to sleep naked but decided on discretion. This wasn't the time for awkward questions, possibly leading to even more awkward answers.
After seeing Giles out, Spike returned to the bedroom. He had no intention of sleeping on the couch, despite his earlier protestation. He belonged with Xander and nothing was going to drag him away from the boy's side. And tomorrow they were going to have words. Oh yes, they were going to have a lot of words. He stripped and climbed into the bed. Turning onto his side to face Xander, he placed an arm carefully across the brunet's torso and settled down to watch and wait and worry.
Xander's eyes opened slowly, reluctantly. His mind was a blank but something was tickling at the edges. There was something he had to remember, something momentous and earth shattering ...
"Yipes!!" He tried to sit up but was frustrated by a heavy arm draped across his waist.
Spike had been watching him for hours, admiring the play of muscles as Xander shifted in his sleep, examining every inch of his face again and again for signs of pain or wakefulness.
Without dislodging the pale arm, Xander turned onto his side and stared into its owner's eyes. He was startled by the concern he could read in the blue irises gazing back at him. His mouth tightened. Spike should be concerned, dammit. He was the one responsible for the dull throbbing in his back and the pounding in his skull and the ache in his heart. "Let me up," he demanded curtly.
Spike quickly removed his arm. "Okay, pet. If that's what you want. But maybe you should stay in bed a bit longer. I could get you something to eat," he cajoled. "A nice bowl of cereal. Or bacon and eggs. I know ... how 'bout an omelet?"
Xander raised himself to a sitting position and leaned back against the headboard, careful to avoid putting any pressure on his injury. He cocked his head enquiringly. "Who are you and what have you done with Spike? He doesn't cook."
Spike's smile was sheepish. "Fact is, I do. It was just ..."
"Easier to let me do it?" Xander's laugh held no mirth and too much self-mockery for Spike's liking. "Easier to let me do everything, I guess. Cook, clean, support us both, provide sex whenever, wherever and however you wanted it. Yeah, you had a pretty sweet deal. Stupid of you to screw it up."
"Me? What'd I do? You're the one who broke up with me. You kicked me out of here for no good reason." His voice rose. "I was right, wasn't I? You've decided to go back to being some All-American jock and forget all about your little journey to Poofland. It's that redheaded witch who's got your knickers in a twist, isn't it? Isn't it?"
Xander gaped. His mouth moved but no sound emerged. Finally deciding a dying fish impersonation couldn't possibly be a good look on him, he damped down his conflicting emotions and carefully chose some sensible words. "Huh? What?!"
Spike leapt out of bed and began pacing back and forth across the room, hands clasped behind his back. He'd become very good at pacing over the past couple of days. Practice makes perfect. "Don't bother lying. I've thought about this a lot. Why else would you dump me? Didn't take me long to figure out there must be someone else. The ginger bint is the most likely candidate, I figure. Unless you've got a crush on Rupert."
"You moron. If you had half a brain you'd be dangerous," fumed Xander.
"Oi!" said Spike, affronted. "I am bloody dangerous."
Xander quirked an eyebrow and Spike subsided.
"You've got this so wrong I'm not sure we're even on the same planet. First, I've never been a jock in my whole life. A week on the high school swim team does not an athlete make. Though I looked damn good in those Speedo's."
Spike's mind drifted for a moment at the mental image those words conjured up. He was tugged back into the moment when Xander spoke again.
"Second, I have no idea if I'm gay or not and I don't care. I do know you're the only guy - male - I've ever been attracted to. At least," he added conscientiously, "I've never met another guy I could be interested in. Maybe I should start looking."
Spike took a step towards the bed and opened his mouth to protest but the words died unspoken as Xander raised his hand in an unmistakeable 'stop now before you make an even bigger idiot of yourself' gesture.
"I'm not finished. Third, Willow is my friend. We kissed like we meant it exactly once, which was your fault anyway, and decided once was enough. There's nothing between us. Never has been really, never could be."
"Fourth, Giles is about as close to a father as I'll ever have. He's not crush material because that'd be ... ick. Like, incest or something."
"Fifth -- I'm up to fifth, right?"
Spike nodded.
"Fifth, and listen carefully because this is important, I told you why I was breaking up with you. It's not my fault if you didn't listen."
Spike cocked his head in thought for a minute then walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "I listened, Xan. I just didn't want to believe it." His voice became very quiet. "I wasn't giving you what you wanted, what you needed. That right?"
Xander nodded his agreement, surprised that his break-up rant had filtered through into the blond's wayward mind. "Yep, got it in one." He sighed. "It's not your fault, I guess. You could only give what you could give. That just wasn't enough for me. I wanted ... I wanted ..."
"You wanted to be loved."
Hanging his head in shame and embarrassment, Xander nodded again. "I would have done anything, put up with all of your shit forever, if I'd just thought, even for a moment, that there was a chance you might l-l-love me one day. Pretty dumb, huh? You're a vampire. You can't love."
A slightly hysterical laugh rent the air. "That's right, pet. Demons can't love. Everybody knows that. Though what the fuck everybody thinks I was doing with Drusilla for over a hundred years, I really couldn't tell you. I protected her, made sure she ate; I was willing to let Angelus die to get her back to full strength. Hell, I never even cheated on her."
Raising his head quickly, Xander stared at Spike in awe. "Never?"
"Never."
"But, Angelus ... I thought ... I guess we all thought ..."
Spike's eyes widened in shock and his lips curled in an expression of distaste. "Do me a favour. You all thought wrong. You're the only male I've ever been with."
"I am?" Xander squeaked. "But you're so damn good at it. The guy-on-guy action, I mean. I thought you must have had, you know, a lot of practice."
"Didn't say I've never watched, love, and I'm a fast learner. Angelus had catholic tastes and a tendency to turn every pretty boy who came his way into a minion. He had a lot of fun and games with those minions before he got bored and staked 'em. Darla didn't complain. Bloody hell, she joined in, more often than not. Just was never my cup of tea."
Xander suddenly became very aware that Spike was naked. "You're not wearing anything," he blurted out, then immediately wished his brain and mouth were better acquainted.
Spike lifted an eyebrow and smiled gently at the furiously blushing boy. "I think they call that a non sequitur, pet." He reached out a hand and gently cupped Xander's chin. "I'm naked, you're not far off it, and we've got this nice big bed. It'd be a pity to waste a set-up like that." He leaned forward and placed his lips against Xander's -- not pressing, not pushing, simply asking.
Xander was so tempted to give in that he stopped breathing for a full minute, revelling in the taste and smell of the beautiful vampire. But if he did cave, wouldn't that just put them back on the same old unsatisfactory footing? He placed his hands on Spike's shoulders and gently pushed him away. "No," he said firmly.
The hurt in Spike's eyes nearly undid him, but he knew he had to be strong. This was about much more than sex. It was about their future, together or apart.
"You don't want me, pet?"
"Of course I do, Spike. But I want all of you, not just the bits around the edges." He took a deep breath. Right. Now for the hard stuff. It was time -- past time -- to be honest.
"Okay. Girly, soul-baring incident warning." He paused as Spike opened his mouth to speak then shut it just as fast. Satisfied he had the blond's full attention, he continued. "My soul. You're limited in that department. I know that and I don't give a shit. But you're going to listen. 'Kay?"
"I'm listening. Fire away."
Xander stopped to organise his thoughts. "We've been ... we were together for a month. At first I thought you cared about me. By the time I caught on that you were only using me it was too late. I was addicted. So what if you only hung around for the easy sex and free cable? So what if it was just ... easier for you to let me buy you blood than to mug the natives of dear ol' Sunny-D? I had you in my bed every night. I had someone to cuddle up to and take care of." His eyes dropped. "I've never had that before," he said, painfully.
Spike waited for a moment, until he was sure that Xander had finished. "So, why did you break up with me?"
Xander's eyes snapped up again and Spike was taken aback by the fire in them. "Because even an idiot like me reaches a limit. You hardly ever kissed me, never let me fuck you. You were too ashamed to let the rest of the gang know there was something more than blind hatred going on between us. Damn, Spike. You made me feel like a fool. I couldn't take it any more."
"I could kiss you now, Xan. I want to kiss you so much. You're wrong, you know. You meant ... you mean much more to me than you realise. Let me show you. Please?" Spike leaned forward again and lapped gently at Xander's lips, willing the boy to respond.
With a small moan, Xander finally submitted. He was tired of struggling against his desire for this creature he loved. Pride be damned. He parted his lips and raised his hand to the back of the blond's head, pulling Spike closer. They kissed gently at first, tongues sliding lazily against one another, fingers playing with locks of silky hair. Gradually the kiss deepened, each mapping out the other's mouth with greedy, wet thrusts of agile tongues.
Spike was the first to pull away. He rested his cool forehead against Xander's heated one. "Okay, love? You've had a pretty rough time of it. Do you want to stop there? Maybe get some more shut-eye?"
With a look of horror, Xander shook his head wildly. He'd made up his mind and nothing was going to change it. "Are you nuts? No, dammit, I do not want to stop there. I appreciate the thought and all but ... are you nuts?"
Spike chuckled, as much from relief as amusement, and returned to Xander's pouting mouth. If the boy wanted to be kissed, he was happy to oblige. After thoroughly ravishing every tooth, every ridge of his palate, every inch of his gums and inner cheeks, he turned his attention to Xander's neck. He kissed and licked and nipped with blunt teeth until the boy was a quivering mass of nerve endings. He licked a slow, wet trail down Xander's upper chest until he reached a brown nipple. Drawing it into his mouth, he suckled gently until it hardened beneath his tongue, rolling its twin between thumb and forefinger until it pebbled.
Xander reached for Spike's cock, only to have his hand gently pushed away.
"Nuh-uh, pet. This is all about you. I made you unhappy, now I'm gonna make it up to you."
Xander tried to protest that he'd be more than happy to participate but his mouth didn't seem to be working. "Guh! Bibble!"
"Glad you agree, Xan. Now, let's get rid of these pesky shorts and I'll try to figure out what to do next," said Spike, a wicked grin lighting up his features.
Xander quickly raised his backside from the mattress, ignoring a sharp twinge as his back pressed against the headboard, and Spike slipped his hands inside the elastic waist of his boxers and pulled them down and then off.
Spike moved down the bed and made himself comfortable, lying on his front between Xander's legs, his face at the brunet's groin level. His swollen shaft was jammed between the mattress and his belly but he ignored the discomfort. He'd been a selfish bastard for too long. It was time to show Xander that he was cherished and ... loved? He shook his head slightly. Time to think about that later. He just knew that the young man was the most important person in the world to him and he was going to prove it to him.
******
Spike spent a few moments simply looking at the engorged cock resting against Xander's stomach. It was beautiful. The head was purple and needy, a drop of pre-ejaculate glistening at the tip. He bent to lick it off and was rewarded by a deep groan from the top of the bed. A pang of regret shot through him as he realised how rarely he'd done this for Xander. He'd taken everything he wanted without giving anything much in return. He bent again and tongued the slit, seeking more of the sweet-salty fluid. It tasted so good, so ... Xandery.
Xander's hands came up and he entwined his fingers in Spike's hair. His touch was loving, undemanding. He was desperate for more but he wasn't going to beg. He'd done too much of that.
Spike leaned up to kiss his boy again. He wasn't going to hurry this. It was too important. Opening his mouth, he shared the delicious taste on his tongue with Xander. Whoa. Was that a growl he heard? He grinned and dropped back to his place between Xander's thighs. His fingers rose to play with Xander's nipples again as he gently mouthed the rigid shaft, which was twitching in its search for attention. He took the swollen mushroom head in his mouth and sucked. Softly at first, then more firmly.
Xander squirmed, the triple pinpricks of sensation driving him wild. Those clever fingers; that talented mouth. Maybe he'd died and gone to heaven. Except that heaven would never accept Spike's demon and the vampire was so clearly here. In his bed, sucking him, manipulating his sensitive nubs. Making him feel, once again, desirable and wanted.
Suddenly, it all came back to him. All the doubts, all the insecurities. "Spike," he gasped. "What are you doing? Why ...?"
"Shh, pet," soothed the vampire. "It's okay. It's fine. I want you. I might be an evil bastard but I'm your evil bastard and I want to make you feel good. Okay?"
"'Kay." Xander gave up. Thinking bad, feeling good. That was his mantra. At least for tonight. He had a feeling there was something important missing in Spike's words that he should question but damned if he could figure out what it was.
Spike traced the thick blue vein running up the underside of Xander's cock with the tip of his tongue then took the hard shaft into his mouth again, as deeply as he could. His lack of a gag reflex or need to breathe was a big advantage, he decided, when Xander thrust up mindlessly. Compensated very nicely for his lack of hands-on -- mouth-on -- experience in this area.
Placing his hands on Xander's hips to keep him still, Spike increased the pressure until his cheeks were hollowed. Those questing hands were on his head again and Spike obeyed the wordless plea by sucking deeper and harder, swallowing around the prick deep in his throat. Xander arched, ready to come, longing to see Spike swallow his semen.
Spike abruptly released him and squeezed the base of his cock.
"Arrrggh. Nooo."
"Don't worry, Xan. I just want to try something different, is all. I think you'll like it." The wicked grin was back. Spike lifted Xander's legs over his shoulders, revealing the puckered entrance to the younger man's body.
Xander gasped, unsure of the vampire's next move.
"Xaaaan," moaned Spike, grin disappearing to be replaced by a look of pure lust. "You're so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, wanting, needing ..."
Xander reached up to stroke a finger across Spike's cheek. "Loving ..."
Spike gazed into the whiskey-coloured eyes of his partner. Not any old whiskey; the finest single malt.
"Yeah, pet. Loving." Spike lowered his head and took Xander's balls into his mouth, one at a time at first, then both, sucking and tonguing them until Xander's shallow pants filled the room. He began to lap at Xander's perineum then moved to his entrance, tongue never still. He licked at the twitching pucker then thrust the tip of his tongue inside, confident of its welcome. His confidence wasn't misplaced. Xander's muscles relaxed, unconcerned by the intrusion, wanting more.
Spike's cock was throbbing, begging for release. It would be so easy to push into Xander's body and find it. But there was more at stake here than a quick orgasm. Much more. He continued to tongue Xander's hole for a few minutes, fingers ceaselessly caressing the brunet's swollen prick, then moved up and resumed sucking it, tongue now devoted to swirling over the boy's cockhead and creating ever more intricate patterns up and down his shaft.
Xander was momentarily surprised by the change of pace but he wasn't about to complain when those cool lips and mobile tongue began to play with his hard cock again. He threw his head back and moaned, hands spasming in the blond's soft curls. This time, there was no interruption when his balls drew up and his semen spurted into Spike's mouth, every drop swallowed by the vampire, whose eyes closed in ecstasy as his throat moved to take down his lover's essence.
******
Xander woke up with a vampire wrapped around him. A not unfamiliar sensation but one he'd been unwillingly resigned to never feeling again. He blinked. Damn, but he needed to use the john. A shower would be good, too. He smiled. Maybe Spike would like to join him. He zoned out for a moment. Spike ... hot running water ... soap ... soapy Spike under hot running water. His smile widened. Everything would be different now. Spike loved him. He'd said so.
Hadn't he? Okay, so his memory was a bit fuzzy on that score but surely ... His brow furrowed. Spike had definitely said he wanted him. He'd definitely said he was his. He hadn't fucked him when he'd had the chance. He'd concentrated solely on his pleasure. But there was a big, gaping hole where unalloyed happiness should be living.
"Spike."
"Murrfle."
"Spike! Wake up."
"'M awake. Snuggle now."
"Damnit, Spike. Wake up. I need to talk to you."
Spike's eyes opened slowly. "Whasmatta, pet?
"First, get off my bladder. I need to take a piss."
Spike sighed. "We're doing the numbers game again? Please, love, I got it the first time around."
Xander suddenly felt cold. "You think it was a game?" he asked shakily.
Spike had never been particularly quick on the uptake but he recognised a mistake when he made it. Eventually.
"'Course not, Xan. I listened to every word."
Xander wasn't convinced. "What did I say?"
"Um, that you wanted a more equivalent ..."
"... equal ..."
"... relationship. That you don't fancy what's'ername ..."
" ... Willow ..."
"Yeah, her. Or the Watcher, 'cos he's your friend ..."
"... father figure ..."
"See, I got it," said Spike triumphantly.
Xander stared at him in fascination. "Nothing's changed at all, has it? Not really. You acted differently for one night. Now you expect everything to go back to the way it was." Xander's despair had hit the depths. He'd bared his soul, told Spike exactly how he felt ... for nothing.
"Out."
"What?"
"Get your clothes and get out. This time, don't come back."
For the second time in two days Spike found himself on the wrong side of the door. For the second time in two days, he didn't really know why.
But this time he was going to find out. He was well aware he was missing something major and the thought of losing Xander forever made his dead heart ache in a way he'd never experienced before. Not even Dru had the capacity to hurt him as Xander could. He was prepared to sacrifice his pride, his Big Badness, anything, to make things right. He loved Xander. He had to find a way to tell him so. He had a strong feeling that breaking down the door and bellowing it across the room wouldn't do the job. There was only one thing for it: He had to talk to Rupert Giles.
******
"Oi, Watcher!"
At the sound of that unwelcome voice, Giles looked up from the text he was studying. He sighed. "What do you want, Spike?" His brow wrinkled. "Is something wrong? Is it Xander?"
"Yeah, and something's real wrong."
The Watcher jumped to his feet. "Why didn't you tell me immediately? Have you taken him to hospital?"
Spike snorted. "Not that kind of wrong. His back's okay. He slept like a baby and he's fine."
"Well, then? What in the name of all that's holy -- or possibly unholy -- are you talking about?"
Spike suddenly realised this wasn't going to be so easy. He'd have to tell the other man a lot more than either of them would feel comfortable with. He straightened. He had to talk to somebody, and Giles was the logical choice. He didn't think Angel would be interested in listening to the intimate details of his sex-life with Xander. Or maybe he would. You could never tell with the hulking poof. He had to get his jollies somehow, preferably in a non-soul-losing way.
He returned to the situation in hand, taking a deep breath and mentally girding his loins. "I want to talk to you, Rupert. Well, I don't really want to talk to you, never really want to talk to you, but ... don't have a choice, do I?" he said, resentfully.
Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. "Spike, what on earth are you wittering on about? If you don't want to talk to me, then don't. I assure you, I won't complain."
Spike walked over to the counter and began to rhythmically kick its base. "Got a problem, don't I? Got a big problem and I can't fix it on my own."
"Spike, kindly stop abusing the fixtures and fittings and tell me what's going on in that atrophied organ you call your brain," said Giles, rapidly losing what little patience he had with the vampire.
"No need to be nasty, Watcher," said Spike, stung. "I'm not as dumb as you all like to think."
"You do, however, appear to be suffering from a severe case of ADHD. Perhaps you should consider medication ...?"
Spike decided to ignore the snark and press on to more important matters. "You're not gonna like this, Rupert. But one of the boy's pet peeves is that I wouldn't tell his so-called friends what was going on with us, so ..."
"Xander?" said Giles sharply. "Are you still talking about Xander? What do you mean, his 'so-called friends'? We are his friends."
Spike laughed jeeringly. "Oh yeah, 'course you are. Never noticed a thing, though, did you? Like, that he hasn't been happy for while now."
Giles shifted uneasily. "I have no idea what you're rambling about. I haven't seen any change in him."
"Well, you bloody well should've! He feels unloved and unwanted and about as useful as a gnat at a picnic." He frowned. "I haven't helped any," he added, a tinge of unfamiliar shame colouring his voice.
"Nonsense," said Giles briskly. "He would have mentioned it to me, if he were unhappy." He stopped to process Spike's final words. "You haven't helped? What do you mean by that, precisely? And did you say ... tell me you didn't say that something is going on between the two of you, because that would require a leap of the imagination that I'd rather not make."
He took off his glasses again and began to polish them distractedly with the hem of his shirt, praying that Spike wouldn't say what he was very much afraid he might say.
Spike was pissed off. What was the point of mucking around? Might as well get it said. "Well, sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities an' all, Watcher, but we've been sleeping together for the past month."
Giles blanched. "I don't believe it. Xander hates vampires. You, most of all." He pondered for a moment then qualified the statement. "Well, apart from Angel."
"Believe it or don't," said Spike. "It's all the same to me." Except it wasn't. "Look, just trust me on this. I know that's a lot to ask, but I have to talk to you about some stuff and it'd help a lot if you'd take my word. We've been sleeping together. Having sex. As often and in as many positions as we can find."
Spike felt a pang of guilt. That wasn't the whole truth. You hardly ever kissed me, never let me fuck you.
Giles sat down heavily, jarring his spine. He hadn't been entirely frank; he had noticed that all was not well with the boy. Xander was apparently in trouble and, difficult though it was to accept, Spike seemed to be the key to helping him. He was surprised, but not shocked, that Xander had been having intimate relations with Spike. The vampire was almost as attractive as he was irritating.
"Very well, Spike, I'll trust you. And don't think that's an easy thing for me to say. But I saw the care with which you handled Xander last night and I'm inclined to give you some leeway. What do you want to ask me?"
Now that the time had arrived, Spike found it difficult to find the words. Oh, fuck it. Just say it, already. "He loves me, I think. I love him too but I've been shit slow about saying it. So he thinks I don't. He thinks I've just been using him."
Deciding to ignore Spike's declaration of love for the moment, Giles zoomed in on the final sentence. "Have you?"
"No! I told you, I love him." His voice dropped to a mutter. "Just didn't realise it until today, when he kicked me out again."
Giles was tempted to kick the vampire out, himself. Did he really want to hear this? Probably not, but he had to focus on helping Xander. If that meant facilitating this odd relationship, then so be it.
"Why did he kick you out?"
"Thought I didn't listen to him, didn't he." He stared at the floor. "I did, got the sense of it an' all, but didn't remember the details. He wanted me to remember the details. It was important to him. Fuck, I should have remembered!" He looked beseechingly at the other man. "Help me out here, Giles. Please?"
"Very well. I expect I'm going to regret asking, but what were these details?"
"First, he's not a jock. Second, he doesn't know if he's gay and doesn't care. Third, he doesn't fancy Willow because they're just friends. Fourth, he doesn't fancy you because you're practically his father. Fifth, I should remember why he broke up with me the first time," he rattled off. He stared at the Watcher, awed. "I remembered! I remembered every little thing. Why couldn't I have done that when he needed me to?" He gave the bottom of the counter a hearty, frustrated kick. "Bloody hell, Rupert, I'm such an prat."
"You really do love him," said Giles, wonderingly. "I didn't think vampires were capable of ..."
"Please, Watcher, don't go down that road. I've had The Chat with Xander. He gets it." He looked almost shyly at Giles. "What should I do now? I want him back, and not just for his comfortable apartment and cable and hot running water. I'd live in a bloody shack with him if he asked me to."
"Then perhaps you should tell him so. Er, you have no plans to turn him, do you?"
Spike was horrified. "Why would I do that?" he demanded. "He wouldn't be Xander, just some demon that set up shop in Xander's body. I like him just the way he is."
For the first time, Giles smiled. "Perhaps that's something else you should tell him. He might appreciate hearing it." His smile faded. "I suspect, Spike, that you are rather better at hearing than you are at listening. Although, oddly enough, Xander's words do appear to have lodged in your brain. A pity you didn't respond appropriately when it was needed."
"I'd just woken up, hadn't I? Never was a morning person, even when I was a person. Now he doesn't want to know. He said he never wants to see me again and ..." He stopped as the repaired door swung open. Buffy, Willow and Tara bustled in, chattering happily.
Buffy pulled up short at the sight of the blond vampire and her Watcher, apparently on excellent terms. "Spike."
"Buffy. Willow, Tara." Spike nodded a greeting in a curiously formal way, his mother's lessons in etiquette never quite forgotten. He was, however, dumbstruck when Xander appeared in the doorway in the wake of the girls.
He dithered for a moment then stepped hurriedly to his lover's side. "Xan, we have to talk. Now. There are some things we have to get straight. Please, love, let me talk to you," he pleaded.
Xander's face was a picture of confusion. Spike was acknowledging that they had a relationship -- in front of his friends. He had no idea what to say. In the past Spike had made it crystal clear that he wanted their connection kept secret. He desperately needed a pointer. What was he supposed to say? And what was Spike doing here, anyway? Xander had figured he'd be long gone by now. To LA and his grandsire, maybe.
"Damn it, pet, why are you just standing there? We have to go home and sort this out. Don't tell me you don't want to. I know you love me. At least, I hope you love me. And I definitely love you." Spike stopped, metaphorically holding his breath. If Xander said 'No', there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. He'd lose him forever ... and look like an even bigger wally than he did already.
Buffy finally recovered from her shocked stasis and spoke. "Spike! What the hell are you talking about? I'm sick and tired of seeing you bully Xander. Get out of here before I turn you into a dusty pile!" Everyone in the room ignored her, their eyes fixed on the couple in the doorway.
"You love me?" Xander's voice was very small.
Spike took a half-step forward and put his arms around the trembling body. "'Course I do, Xan. You're very lovable, you know. Very shaggable, too." He smiled and winked at Xander, who smiled back uncertainly.
"Everybody is looking ..."
"Let 'em look, pet. I'm proud of you. You're loyal and brave and beautiful and I want to be with you for the rest of your life. Never letting you go, sweetheart. You're mine." Spike turned them both and started to walk to the door, his gorgeous human tucked under his arm. The first step had been taken successfully. Now he had to get Xander home and convince him that they weren't over. They were just beginning.
Buffy stopped gaping. "Hey, wait a minute! I want to know exactly what's going on here. Xander, why are you letting that stupid vamp haul you around like that?"
Spike and Xander stopped and turned to face her. Spike opened his mouth to protest but Xander got in first. "Buffy, just shut up, will you? Spike isn't stupid and he isn't 'hauling' me anywhere. I want to go with him."
Willow finally found her voice and piped up. "Xand, I don't get it. Is something going on with you and Spike? Why didn't you tell me? We're best friends. You can tell me anything; don't you know that?"
Xander stepped away from Spike's sheltering arm and walked over to the redhead, taking her into his arms and hugging her to his broad chest. "I couldn't tell you about this, Will," he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head.
"Why not?" she asked in a muffled voice.
"'Twas my fault, Red. I wouldn't let him tell anyone. Wanted to keep him all to myself. I guess I figured you -- all of you -- would try to talk him out of it."
"You'd have been right," said Buffy. "This is just ... sick. Xander, can't you see how wrong it is?" demanded the blonde.
Xander straightened and glared at her. "How come it was the Romance of the Century when you were with Angel but me being with Spike is sick?"
Buffy had the grace to look uncomfortable. "That was different ... he has a soul ... he's good."
"Come clean, Buff. It bothers you that he's a guy, too, doesn't it? You know, the whole gay thing. All these years, you thought I was one thing and now it turns out I've got ... facets." He nodded. "Yep, I've got facets."
Willow sniffed. Buffy hadn't taken the news that she liked girls very well, either.
For once, the Slayer was speechless. Where was a good pun when you really needed one?
Giles decided a small intervention was required. "Buffy, Willow, I really think this is Xander's business. He's not a child and has the right to make his own decisions, even if we may question them. I, for one, believe that Spike means him no harm and I'm pleased to see that they appear to make one another happy. Er, at least I trust they will when they work through ... certain difficulties."
Xander returned to Spike's side and took his hand. "Thanks, Giles," he said gratefully.
"Yeah, Rupert, thanks. For everything."
With that, they were gone, leaving a worried Slayer and witch gazing after them.
******
Spike and Xander walked towards the apartment, silent, each lost in his own thoughts. Xander stopped abruptly and tugged on the vampire's hand until Spike turned to face him. "What just happened, Spike?"
Spike frowned. "Whaddya mean, love?"
"I just came out to my friends. Why did I do that?"
"Strictly speaking, I outed you."
"I could've said I didn't know what the hell you were talking about, though. You would have let me get away with that, wouldn't you?"
"It would have been hard, but yeah. Why didn't you just deny everything?"
Xander thought seriously about that. "I didn't want to," he said simply.
"So, I guess you came out because you love me and you were tired of keeping our relationship a secret?"
"Um, yeah. Weird. I wasn't actually sure we had a relationship." A toothy, happy, uncomplicated grin split his face. "You said you love me!"
"I did, pet," said Spike, slightly puzzled. "You got a problem with that?"
They started walking again.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"You any good at back rubs?"
Spike lifted his fingers and waggled them. "The best. Wait 'til we get home and I'll show you. You'll be a moaning puddle of goo in ten minutes flat."
"Okay, I could live with that." Xander thought again. "Can you really cook?"
"Oh, yeah. Italian a speciality. Dru really liked Italian. She could pretend the tomato sauce was blood and the meatballs were ... uh, never mind." He smiled reminiscently. "Sometimes they were."
"I know this has been said before, but ... euwww!"
Spike chuckled. "Better get over that squeamishness, pet. You're gonna be living with me for a long time and blood features big in my diet."
"I know that. I've been buying it for you, remember?"
"Yeah. I probably haven't thanked you for that."
"Fuck, Spike, you haven't thanked me for a damn thing. Especially not the fucks."
Spike grinned. "Well now, pet, that was very remiss of me. Have to do better in future, won't I?" He leered.
Xander shivered. "The occasional 'ta' wouldn't hurt." He glanced at Spike out of the corner of his eye to see the blond's reaction and smiled again when Spike snickered.
"Hell, pet, now you're starting to sound like me."
"Well, couples do that. Start to sound like one another, I mean. And we are a couple." There was a pause. "Aren't we?"
Spike recognised a cue when he heard one. Xander's insecurities needed petting and this time he wasn't going to duck it. He wound an arm around the boy's waist. "We are, Xan. We definitely are. And we'll have arguments and get right royally pissed off with one another to prove it. 'Cos couples do that, too."
"They do? I mean, my parents did but I hoped maybe we could avoid that stuff."
Spike pulled Xander closer to his side. "Not gonna happen, love. We're both too passionate and stubborn to live together in total peace and quiet. But that's a good mix in the bedroom -- or the living room or the dining room or the bathroom or ..."
Xander laughed happily. "I get it, Spike. We're gonna have sex in every room in the apartment."
Spike's smile was a little sad. "We already have, pet, but not the way we should've. It's gonna be different now." His smile widened and lost the touch of regret. "Anway, don't see why we have to restrict ourselves to the apartment."
Xander stopped again and drew Spike into his arms. Bending his head slightly, he touched his lips to his vampire's. "Me neither," he whispered.
Spike's response was immediate and enthusiastic. His mouth opened and his tongue slipped into Xander's mouth, the sensations created by the familiar wet warmth making his cock harden almost painfully against the zipper of his jeans. He thrust his tongue erratically in and out of Xander's mouth in mimicry of what he had every intention of doing with his now-rigid shaft, very soon.
Xander had dropped his hands to Spike's hips and he was grinding his equally hard erection against the vampire's, desperately seeking more stimulation.
You never let me fuck you. Spike pulled back suddenly as the plaintive words popped into his mind, ignoring Xander's protest. Right. That was going to change. But not here, on a dark, dirty street. A bit of romance was called for. "Xan, let's get home. I want you inside me."
Xander's brown eyes became huge, puppy dog huge. "Do you mean it?" he asked, shakily. "I thought Master Vampires didn't do that."
"Bugger that. So to speak. I love you; nothing else matters." He grinned. "'Sides, you seem to have such a good time when I fuck you I'd kinda like to find out what's so all-fired great about it from the fuckee's side."
******
By the time they reached the apartment they were almost running. They scrambled awkwardly up the stairs and Spike tapped his foot impatiently as Xander's trembling fingers fished his door key out of his pants pocket and tried to fit it into the lock.
They almost fell through the door when it finally opened. Xander kicked it shut with his foot and shoved the lean blond against the nearest wall. His mouth fell hungrily onto Spike's and he nipped and licked at his lips until they parted, their tongues soon duelling sweetly. He moved to Spike's neck -- a major erogenous zone for the vampire, unsurprisingly -- and groaned as Spike threw back his head to give him better access. Xander took full advantage, kissing and nibbling up and down the pale column. Their hips were thrusting wildly, both seeking to relieve the pressure in their swollen cocks.
In a replay of their first encounter, a month before, Xander dropped to his knees and reached to pull down Spike's zipper and reveal his other pale column.
"No, Xan," grunted the blond, tenaciously hanging onto the decision he'd made earlier.
"No?" Xander almost squeaked.
Spike reached down and grabbed Xander's upper arms, pulling his boy into a standing position again. "No, love. I don't want that. At least, not right now." He smiled nervously. "I told you, I want you to fuck me."
"Don't think I can do that, Spike."
Spike pouted and Xander leaned forward to kiss the protruding lower lip, briefly sucking it into his mouth. He drew back again. "But I can make love to you. Would that be okay?"
Spike sighed in relief. "Yeah, sweetheart. That'd be wonderful."
Xander took Spike's hand and led him into the bedroom. He pulled back the bed covers then turned back to the vampire. He pushed the leather duster off Spike's shoulders then untucked his t-shirt from the tight black jeans, pulling it up and over Spike's head. He smiled affectionately at the result.
"What?" asked Spike, confused.
"Your hair's a mess."
Spike raised a hand to smooth his gelled, now spikey, bleached locks but Xander stopped him.
"Don't. I like it. You look ... cute."
"No, I don't," replied the blond indignantly. "Master Vampires aren't cute."
"Anything you say, baby," replied Xander, entirely failing to suppress his smile. He kissed Spike again, reigniting their passion as his fingers fumbled with the vampire's belt buckle and released it, then pulled down his zip. Spike's rock-hard cock leapt into his waiting hand and he stroked it, firmly and slowly. "Take off your boots and jeans," he murmured. "I want to see all of you."
Spike hurried to comply while Xander took off his own clothes. They faced one another, naked, hard cocks jutting from tangled thatches of pubic hair.
Xander pulled Spike onto the bed and covered the ivory body with his own. Their swollen, leaking pricks slid against one another and they moaned in unison. He began to move down Spike's body, licking, kissing and sucking every gorgeous inch, tracing the sharply delineated lines of Spike's six-pack with the tip of his tongue. When he reached the vampire's shaft he kissed the head and licked off the gathering pre-come as Spike writhed and groaned needily under him. He gently pushed the blond's legs towards his chest. Taking the hint, Spike slid his own arms underneath his thighs and pulled them up.
Xander gasped as Spike's puckered entrance was revealed to his greedy gaze. He'd never seen Spike from this angle before and it was the most beautiful sight he could imagine. He hesitated for a moment and looked up into the blue eyes gazing down at him. "Are you sure about this, Spike?"
"For fuck's sake, Xan, get on with it. I want this, want you in me. Now!"
The young man smiled. "In a moment. I have to prepare you first." He reached over to the bedside table and picked up the lube that permanently resided there. He'd never used it on Spike before but he knew what to do. He flipped the top of the tube and spread a generous amount on his fingers. Carefully, he pushed his index finger into Spike's waiting hole until it was buried inside the vampire's body.
Spike grunted but there was only pleasure, not pain.
Xander added another finger, then a third, carefully stretching Spike's hole. When he crooked them and scratched across the vampire's prostate, Spike arched and almost howled. "Holy fucking shit!!"
Assuming from the blond's reaction that he wouldn't object to more, Xander removed his fingers and, crouching over Spike, lined up the head of his cock with his pucker. He slowly pushed inside, gasping at the virgin tightness of the velvety channel surrounding the head of his cock. He pushed harder until he was fully seated inside Spike's body, their balls resting snugly together.
Spike was stunned. Why had he resisted this for so long? He felt ... complete. His beloved human was filling him, completing him. He gasped when Xander began to move, thrusting in and out and stroking his prostate with his cockhead on every second or third push, then whimpered when the man took his weight on one elbow and wrapped a warm hand around his rigid cock and began to pump it. Then Xander bent down and kissed him. Unable to hold back any longer, Spike spurted his white, viscous release over Xander's hand and his own chest and belly.
As Spike's muscles contracted around his cock, Xander's balls lifted and tightened and he came, filling the vampire's channel with his warm semen. He slumped over Spike bonelessly, completely sated. Pulling his softening shaft from the blond's body, he fell sideways to lie on his back beside him. He looked over at Spike, expecting to see blue eyes looking back at him. His heart jumped when he saw golden eyes and a deeply ridged forehead. He carefully raised his hand and stroked the blond's gameface, unafraid.
"Is it okay, love? Do you mind?" Spike waited anxiously for Xander's reply.
"No, Spike, I don't mind. I'm just very happy you finally feel comfortable enough to show me your true face in a non-scary, non-threatening way." He paused. "Do you think ... if I want you to bite me, do you think the chip'll stay quiet?"
"You want me to bite you?" Spike was gobsmacked. He hadn't expected this.
"Yeah, I do. It's the closest connection a vampire can make with a human, I figure, drinking their blood. Even more than sex. And I want to feel as close to you as I can."
"Me too, pet. Let's try it." Spike nuzzled into Xander's neck, fearful of a potential migraine but willing to take the risk to complete the bond with his human lover. He slid his razor sharp fangs into Xander's flesh and began to drink. To his relief, the chip decided not to make its presence felt.
Xander's blood tasted incredible -- he could almost feel the brunet's love for him in the coppery fluid slipping down his throat. With an effort of will, he stopped after a few mouthfuls and began to gently lick the twin wounds until they closed.
He leaned back and gazed into the brunet's eyes. "I love you, Xan. Thanks for trusting me."
"I love you too, Spike. It never even crossed my mind that I shouldn't trust you."
Spike lifted a quizzical, scarred eyebrow.
"Okay, so maybe it crossed my mind. Wasn't about to let that stop me, though."
Spike hugged him, hard. "That's my beautiful, brilliant, honest boy. I'm an evil vampire, after all," he said proudly.
"Uh-huh. Now, about that back rub ..."
******