Rating: PG-13
Summary: Spike’s been getting in later and later, pushing his luck with the daylight.
Disclaimer: Don't own em, just bringin' em out to play for a bit.
Notes: Written for [info]mulder200 after a drabble call back in February. His prompt? Spike/Xander, love. Has been up on my journal for a while now, thought I'd put it here. Also, unbeta'd but by me. If y'all spot anything wrong, feel free to let me know



The Last Morning


by
Altyronsmaker


Xander settles on the sofa, beer in one hand, remote in the other, and props his sock-clad feet on the coffee table. He turns on the TV and flips through the channels. He’s bored, been home about thirty minutes, long enough to grab a quick bite and the beer, and settle in for a night of ‘so bad it’s good’ sci-fi.

For the last few mornings, Spike’s been getting in later and later, pushing his luck with the daylight. Lately, Xander’s in bed by the time Spike gets in, but he’s caught the smell of burnt hair more than once. He would say something, but they’re not together like that. Just sharing an apartment, keeping each other company.

He’s too exhausted to sleep this morning is the only reason he’s still up when Spike finally comes in.

Xander looks at the clock. “Cuttin’ it kinda close, there, huh Spike?” he says, surprising his room mate.

Spike sniffs and wipes a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, well, baddies are out all manner of hour these days.”

Xander cocks an eyebrow. “Hm,” is all he says.

“Figured you’d hie off to bed already, pet,” Spike says with a wince.

Xander cuts an eye at him. “Pet?”

Spike waves him off and sits beside him on the sofa. Close beside him. Xander almost smiles, but he’s pretty sure that would run Spike off.

“I would but, well, couch is comfy and I’m too damn tired to get up,” Xander says, sipping his beer. He shifts over a bit, catching the way Spike obviously does not move away. Then he shifts over again, settling his body right there alongside Spike’s.

Spike turns to him. “Harris. What the bloody hell do ya think you’re doin’?”

At that, Xander grins. “Nothing.” Then, still grinning, lays his head on Spike’s shoulder.

He feels Spike tense under his cheek. Spike says, “Xander.”

And the grin falls off Xander’s face. He’s never heard Spike say his name that way before. He swallows. He thinks he might like it. He sets his beer on the coffee table. “Could you, I don’t know, say that again?”

Spike looks at him, frowning. “Why?”

Xander shrugs. “Humor me,” he says, and lifts his eyes to meet Spike’s.

Spike hitches a breath, something Xander usually never fails to find amusing, but this morning only finds it sweet. Then Spike licks his lips and says, “Xander.”

Yeah, Xander thinks, he does like that, and focuses on Spike’s mouth. He leans forward. “I think,” he says, with a quick there and gone again frown, “I’m going to kiss you. If it’s not something you want, I suggest you say so now or forever hold your peace.”

Spike shakes his head, eyes on Xander’s mouth, pink tongue darting out to moisten paler lips. “Not sayin’ anything.”

Xander smiles. “Good. Here goes.” He closes his eyes, and closes the distance between their mouths. Spike’s lips are cool and moist, and pliant under his own. He feels Spike exhale against his cheek, and opens his lips just a little, to lick the crease between Spike’s lips.

Spike moans and surges into the kiss, pushing Xander lie back on the sofa, and he settles his body over Xanders, taking over the kiss with determination.

After a while, a long while, a long glorious, fully clothed and dry humping while later, Xander pulls out of the kiss, panting. “Well.”

Spike plants a quick kiss on his lips and smiles. “Been wantin’ that for ages.”

Xander runs a hand over Spike’s hair. He likes that Spike’s stopped with the gel. There’s a curl that always falls onto Spike’s forehead, and it’s soft and almost alive as it wraps around Xander’s finger. He stares into Spike’s eyes, seeing, he thinks finally, what his room mate’s been hiding. “I haven’t. Just figured it out.”

“You’re slow, I knew this,” Spike says, carding fingers through Xander’s hair, over the strap of his patch.

Xander reaches up and takes Spike’s hand, threading their fingers together. He reaches up for another quick kiss. “But I’m a fast learner.”

Spike chuckles. “Know that, too, luv,” he says, and settles his mouth on Xander’s.




The End





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