Old Blood

by
Dustandroses



1 Scene of the Crime


“Locust Hill Cemetery. What is up with that? Are there really locusts out here? How would we know? What does a locust look like anyway? It’s just a grasshopper, right? A grasshopper on steroids, maybe. ‘Cause they swarm. Locusts swarm. I remember reading about that in high school.” Xander shuddered, and Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. The big bad vampire isn’t afraid of a swarm of thousands and thousands of locusts.”

“Why should I be?” Spike shrugged, blowing smoke out over Xander’s head as they walked along the path. “They’re just a bunch of bugs. I’ve got my shit kickers on; they’re more than a match for any insect, individually or in a swarm.”

“Yeah, right. Tell me all about it when they swarm into your mouth and you have to swallow them before you can talk.” He shuddered again, his face drawn up into an exaggerated cringe.

“Berk. You know, fried locusts are a delicacy in some parts of the world.”

“That’s disgusting.” Xander swallowed heavily, looking as if he was fighting another shudder. “If you want me to ever spring for another blooming onion, you will never mention that to me again.”

Spike sighed heavily and stomped away shaking his head as if merely being found walking beside the dolt would be an embarrassment. It was just a sham, though, and he was fairly certain that the boy knew it. If he had to be stuck out on the edge of town searching an ancient graveyard that even the majority of demons had abandoned years ago, at least he’d lucked out and drawn Xander as his partner for the evening. He much preferred the boy’s company to that of the slayer, or even the two witches.

For a good three or four months Spike had gotten stuck on patrol with the whelp and his demon bint, watching as their relationship slowly ground to a painful halt. She’d demanded so much from Xander, but hadn’t been willing to offer the same to him, and it had been exhausting just watching it from the sidelines. Once the two broke up, she’d stopped patrolling, which was a great relief for everyone involved. Xander’s angry tirades had completely disappeared and patrols had become much easier to deal with. Of course, the rest of the group had all played sympathetic for a week or two, switching up the patrol schedule so they could each spend time with Xander. Spike had dreaded it for a while, never knowing who he’d get saddled with. But obviously, they’d thought two weeks was a sufficient mourning period for a relationship of over a year. Now that Adam was defeated and summer was upon them it was back to just the two of them, and that suited Spike just fine.

He did his best to maintain his big bad attitude, but these days, the acid-sharp bitterness of his and Xander’s arguments was fading to companionable jostling and the one-upmanship of friendly bickering. It was easy, and while Spike wasn’t really sure if he was truly pleased with being comfortable around a walking happy meal, he’d decided to let himself enjoy it while it lasted. He’d gotten enough of the slayer’s caustic disposition and the watcher’s snide comments to last him the rest of his hopefully lengthy existence. Between the bloody soldier boys and those two, he felt he’d earned himself a little comfort. The way his luck was running these days, it wouldn’t last long, anyway; something would come along soon to blow it all to hell.

Spike frowned as they closed in on their next target, his senses suddenly on alert. Something unusual was happening close by, he could feel it skittering across his skin like spiders across a web. The closer they got to the crypt, the worse the feeling got. Bugger. It looked like they’d found something; possibly the demons they were after, or it could be something else. Xander had caught up to him by then, still going on about swarms and such rot, but Spike silenced him with a hand over his mouth as he pulled the blighter off to the side, near a bench memorializing someone’s dearly beloved mother.

Spike got up close, whispering in Xander’s ear. “Shut the hell up, you nob. I’m not sure what it is, but something’s not right, and it’s coming from the crypt we’re supposed to be searching. You stay out here, and I’ll go inside and see if I can sort this out.”

Xander grabbed his arm, pulling Spike’s hand far enough away from his mouth to whisper in reply. “The hell you will! If your spidey senses are going off, I’m going with you so you have some back up. Why are you teaching me to fight in the first place if you plan on sidelining me every time there’s any danger? Besides, I don’t want to get stuck out here if you’re going to be in there. What if some oogedy-boogedy attacks me while you’re gone? Not that I would need your help or anything, I can take care of myself. I’m a man, with the manly fighting and protecting myself from oogedy…”

Spike rolled his eyes. It was almost impossible to get a word in edgewise with this crew. “I’m not sidelining you, you berk. I need you to keep watch so you can warn me if anything approaches while I’m inside. As soon as I know what’s going on, I’ll come get you so we can make a plan of action, right?”

He understood Xander’s frustration; the boy’d been dismissed as inept by the slayer and her watcher for too many years. He’d been so excited when Spike had started teaching him a few basic self-defense techniques to keep him out of trouble while Spike killed the more dangerous demons. But he needed to remember that he was still backup; it was Spike’s job to take the risks.

Frowning, Xander nodded reluctantly. “Right. I can do that. Watching your back. That’s a big responsibility, a manly man’s job, with the watching and the…warning.”

“Yeah, that’s you, Butch. C’mon, let’s get up closer to the door. Move quietly now – no noise.”

Spike took the lead, casting his senses out in all directions. Something was definitely not right, and it had the stink of magic to it. He sighed heavily. He hated magic, it never caused anything but trouble.

By the time they reached the final resting place of Leonard Chapman, Spike was fairly certain there was nothing but the wind moving the trees in the surrounding area. He could hear nothing but silence from the crypt. That didn’t stop him from being careful, though. Something was setting his nerves jangling, and the fact that he couldn’t find it just made matters worse. He set Xander up a few steps to the side of the entrance, and after another careful listen, he opened the crypt door and slipped inside.

It didn’t take Spike long to realize he was alone in the small chamber; there were no entrances in the rock walls besides the door he’d just used, merely a few small slits near the ceiling to circulate air, and some cubbyholes for candles. The rock floor was solid, and the only other feature of the room was a waist-high, ornate marble sarcophagus. There was litter in the corners, sticks and leaves, an old candy bar wrapper, a moldy blanket, the old bones of what looked like a few household pets – he saw a broken collar with a bell on the tag. Something had used this tomb in the past, but whatever had eaten the family dog was long gone.

There was a splintery wooden board leaning up against the sarcophagus, probably two feet square. Spike couldn’t read the writing on it from that awkward angle, so he picked it up, just as the door opened behind him. The board clattered loudly against the marble as he dropped it, turning swiftly to see Xander peeking hesitantly into the chamber.

Frowning, Spike stalked over to him. “Didn’t I tell you to stay outside?”

“Spike, this place is so old that even the dead don’t visit anymore. If there’s trouble stirring, it’s bound to be in here and not out there.” He stopped, obviously waiting for something, then, when Spike just stared at him, he sighed. “So? Is there?”

Spike shook his head, “Nothing.” He stepped back. “Well, come on in, then. Let me have that torch, I’m trying to see if I can recognize this language.” He went back to the board, shining the light on it, trying to suss out the words and strange figures that took up a large percentage of the surface. It looked demonic in nature, but despite the extra illumination, he still couldn’t read the faded words. The scent of old blood was strongest here. He thought that the dark words were written in blood, and it didn’t smell human.

Xander struck a match against the stone wall, the scent of sulfur overpowering the other smells in the room for a moment. He lit the candle in one cubbyhole, then used it to light the others, until the room glowed with the flickering light.

“That’s better.”

He glanced over at Spike, who stared at him, one eyebrow raised. What the hell did he think this was, a tea social?

“Hey, you took my flashlight. Some of us don’t come equipped with night vision, you know,” Xander defended himself. “We need assistance to see things like…” he glanced down at the bones at his feet, nudging them with the toe of his sneaker, revealing a tuft or two of once-white fur, “Fluffy? Does that tag say Fluffy?” He cringed. “Okay, so maybe we don’t need to see everything.”

Spike smirked at him. “Something wrong, Butch?”

Xander glared at him, pointing his finger. “Hey! Even macho men are allowed to feel a moment of sympathy for the loss of some old lady’s pet poodle.”

Spike snorted. “Anything you say, Butch.”

Xander abandoned the site of Fluffy’s untimely demise and peeked over Spike’s shoulder. “What the hell is that?”

Spike dropped the board back onto the sarcophagus in disgust. “I dunno. I can’t figure it out. It looks familiar, as if I should be able to translate it, but the words don’t make any sense at all.” He shone the torch into the corner with Fluffy’s remains in them, examining them closer.

“You think those bones are related to this?” Xander was bent over, staring at the board and its strange symbols and odd words, his candle dropping dollops of wax on the surface.

Spike used his boot to dig beneath the bones, checking to see if there was anything else there that might be causing this unease he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “Something strange is going on here. I smell old blood and incense, and the scent of magic makes me want to sneeze.”

“Of course there’s blood, doofus, we’re in a crypt.”

When Spike turned his head, a comeback on his lips, he realized Xander was tracing one of the complicated patterns on the board with his fingertip. Before he could warn Xander off, Spike’s senses were overwhelmed by the scent of fresh blood. He didn’t remember moving, but there he was - so close to Xander that there was hardly a breath between them. Xander startled, pulling his wounded finger back from the splinter that had torn it open, shaking drops of blood onto the board before sticking the wounded finger into his mouth.

Gasping at the eroticism of the sight, Spike pulled Xander’s finger out, watching hypnotically as a drop of blood welled on the tip, licking his dry lips hungrily. Xander’s smug chuckle distracted him, and Spike glanced at him as he turned up one side of his mouth in a sexy sneer that, surprisingly, looked quite at home there. His face was flushed, his pupils so dilated that his already dark eyes looked black in the flickering candlelight.

Xander ran his bloody finger across Spike’s bottom lip, and Spike licked it off, gasping at the flavor – heady stuff, that – old blood and fresh, sparking with magic and heavy with lust. Spike moaned in sensual bliss and Xander smiled that crooked grin once again right before he pushed his finger into Spike’s mouth. Spike sucked avidly, seduced by the taste but trying desperately to stay out of his true face, hoping that Xander wouldn’t come to his senses and end this moment.

Spike’s cock hardened, his senses sharpening as he focused on Xander, whose heartbeat seemed to echo loudly in the chamber. His skin felt so sensitive that he could almost sense the change in the air pressure that signaled the moment Xander’s breathing changed from inhale to exhale. The taste of blood, combined with the strong, inebriating scent of arousal almost overwhelmed the tingle of magic that crackled on his skin, but Spike knew that something important was happening – the very air was sparking like a live wire and he shivered with anticipation.

Xander laughed, a deep, chilling sound and Spike opened eyes he hadn’t been aware of closing, losing himself in the dark, hypnotic gaze. Pumping his finger in and out of Spike’s mouth, Xander stepped closer, wrapping his other hand around the back of Spike’s neck, running his fingers through the fine hair on his nape. The taste of warm, salty skin made Spike’s mouth water, and he sucked harder, bringing his tongue into play, rasping against the pad, hoping to tease another drop out of the jagged tear. It had been too long since he’d tasted human blood.

Xander pulled his finger free with a soft pop, and Spike opened his mouth to try and steal it back, but then Xander’s mouth was there, and he opened wide as Xander attacked him with lips and tongue and teeth, as ferocious an assault as any he’d felt in ages. Fierce and aggressive and totally in control. Eagerly, Spike surrendered to the powerful onslaught, pulling Xander closer, pressing tightly against him, hips pumping forward to find friction, something to ease his growing hunger, or maybe to incite more.

Spinning Spike around, Xander drove him backwards aggressively, his heavier build pressing Spike against the door. Spike could have fought him to a standstill, being a vampire had its advantages, but he had no interest in doing so. There was nothing he liked better than a pushy, dominating lover. He’d had to play the aggressor with Drusilla for far too long, he was overdue for some time to enjoy the pleasures of surrender, and Xander was certainly proving himself equal to the task.

He trapped Spike’s arms over his head, in a grip that was tighter and more secure than he would have expected out of Xander, despite the time spent on a construction crew. Xander’s knee between his legs gave Spike the perfect angle to rub against his hip bone, creating the most amazing sensations; friction and pressure sending him soaring with pleasure. Xander bit down Spike’s jaw, sharp, sucking bites leaving his skin tingling and burning. Spike tilted his head to the side, giving Xander as much room to play as possible.

The candlelight seemed to flare and blaze, sending out shimmering sparks that felt like static on his over-sensitive skin. He gasped, his head swimming in the sensory overload. Xander’s dark, low voice seemed to echo in the chamber, despite how quietly he spoke, his mouth pressed against Spike’s throat. The words seemed familiar, but for some reason he couldn’t understand them, their meaning slipping away from his consciousness even as he tried to hold on to the sounds.

Xander let go of his wrists, hands moving to Spike’s waistband, fingers strong and sure as they released the buttons of his jeans, jerking the fabric apart to reveal Spike’s aching hard-on. His eyes closed in bliss as Xander’s hot fingers closed around him tightly and he gasped in relief. He hadn’t noticed Xander freeing his own cock, but suddenly, he was pressing them together, the heat of Xander’s flesh searing Spike’s as he jerked them both with a tight, rough-edged grip.

He held onto Xander’s broad shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and flex as his rough, calloused hands pulled the two of them closer to orgasm. Xander bit him again and again, Spike’s neck burning from the stinging nips. He panted, gasping for air that seemed too heavy to breathe, thick with magic and the almost tangible flavors of lust and hunger. He tried to stop breathing, aware that the panting was doing nothing but making him light-headed, but it was too difficult to concentrate and he gave up, letting his body react however it would to the heady stimuli surrounding him.

When it came, the sharp, harsh bite pulled a loud shout from Spike, his eyes opening in shock as Xander threw his head back. More of those strange words emerged from his bloody lips, his eyes glittering as the candles flared. They came simultaneously, backs arching as they both cried out, Spike’s orgasm almost as much pain as pleasure. The moment stretched out, seeming to last forever, then Xander collapsed, his body crumpling as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. Spike followed him down, his back braced against the door, still gasping, sucking in air that was suddenly cool again, the heavy, oppressing scents gone in an instant.

He explored the ragged bite on his neck, fingers coming away bloody. Grinning, he hunted in his coat for a semi-clean handkerchief, wiping up blood and come off them both, his smirk growing as he took the opportunity to examine the whelp’s equipment. Not that he hadn’t seen Xander’s todger a few times when they’d lived together in his parent’s basement, but with Xander still out for the count, it was easy to get a better view. He was nicely built, and Spike wondered if he’d get another chance to get up close and personal with it, or if this had been a onetime event.

As he finished wiping off Xander’s fat cock, the boy finally stirred sleepily, stretching luxuriously before stiffening, his eyes popping open in shock as the recent past obviously came back to him in a rush. He let out an undignified yelp as he realized who was wiping his cock clean and scrambled away, cursing and batting at Spike’s hands.

“Hands! Inappropriate touching with the hands and the…” He came to a stop against the sarcophagus, blushing bright red. “Okay, if my recent memories are anywhere near the vicinity of correct, there was so much more touching than just the hands.” Xander flinched away from the sight of the various substances coating the rag Spike held out to him, choosing instead to wipe his sticky fingers on the dusty floor of the crypt.

Spike smirked at him and stood, tossing the rag in the direction of the sarcophagus, chuckling when it landed on the board that had started all this. It seemed an appropriate place for it. He stretched his neck in both directions, shrugging his shoulders to settle his duster before smoothing down his shirt and tucking his cock back into his jeans. Xander watched all this, looking slightly dazed, before finally snapping out of it and shaking his head vigorously, as if to clear it.

“Okay. I’d really like to be able to say all this never happened, but even I’m not quite that much of an idiot.” He scrambled to his feet, rushing to hide his cock from view. “Even so, I’d like to suggest that we keep this to ourselves.” He wiped his semi-clean hand against the leg of his pants, grimacing at the smear it left across the cloth. “What do you say? Complete silence on the strange and unusual events that happened in the creepy crypt? Sound okay to you?”

Spike sighed. Looked like the excitement was over. Well, at least for now. He was sure he’d get a lot of mileage out of this once the berk had stopped panicking. “Sure, Butch. We’ll keep it just between the two of us.” He looked critically at Xander: the sticky mess of bodily fluids staining his pants, his shaggy hair in disarray, a smear of Spike’s blood on the corner of his mouth. “I think we should pay a quick visit to your basement on the way back to the Watcher’s flat. A change of clothes might be appropriate, don’t you think?”

Xander nodded rapidly. “Good idea, fangless. Let’s go.”

Xander rushed out of the crypt as if on fire, obviously in a hurry to put as much distance between himself and the scene of the crime as possible, rattling on about vampire mooches who really just wanted to snag a beer or two while he changed clothes. Spike, on the other hand, glanced back into the chamber regretfully, his eyes drawn to the sarcophagus, attracted by the wisp of smoke rising from the dirty rag sitting on the board. He caught the faint scent of incense and smiled wickedly. If he was lucky, this might not be over, yet.





2 Dirty Dealings Dale


Spike was staring at him again. Xander shifted in his chair and looked quickly back at Giles, who rambled on, unaware of Spike’s unsettling new habit, caught up in his detailed description of what a Pelznoft demon looked like. At least these demons weren’t haunting graveyards. That was a welcome change of pace. No tombstones, no sarcophaguses in creepy crypts, no doors that the sexy undead could get pushed up against while you discovered that parents didn’t tend to circumcise baby boys back in the eighteen hundreds. Or maybe that was a British thing? There was no way he was asking Giles, that was for sure.

Blinking, Xander realized he’d totally lost track of Giles’ monologue which was currently overflowing with watcherly enthusiasm about their latest demon disturbance. He had to admit, frightening owners into leaving their homes, so they could buy them cheap and sell them at a profit was a new one. Most of the demons they ran across were looking for munchables, not money.

Of course, Anya was impressed; there was a definite gleam in her eyes as she listened attentively. Xander was tempted to ask if she wanted to take his place on patrol tonight, but he doubted very much Spike would wait around patiently while she talked shop and perused potential boyfriends. He didn’t think the prehensile tail would be a problem for Anya, but the third eye might, even if it was usually covered by their shirts. He hoped she eventually found someone who loved money as much as she did, she deserved some happiness. He was just glad they’d decided they made better friends than lovers; she was too…greedy for him. Fucking bitch.

Whoa! He shook his head. Where the hell had that come from? That had been happening to him all week – odd thoughts popping into his head, things he’d never have done or said, but that felt so right at that moment. He didn’t think that way about Anya, he really didn’t. Then again, he didn’t want to kick the homeless guy that sat outside his favorite convenience store in the teeth, either, and he’d come close to giving into that impulse this evening on his way home from work when he stopped in to pick up some soda and a loaf of bread.

He kept finding himself seconds away from punching the person holding up the line at the grocery store, or pushing someone off a girder at work, or tripping Giles as he walked past with a cup of steaming hot tea. He felt one side of his mouth curl up in a sneer, thinking about lunch today, and the two bimbos who couldn’t decide on curly fries or onion rings, and the way their eyes would have widened, right before his sword cleaved through their necks, their heads flying in tandem through the air to land with meaty thuds in the open cash register of the moron behind the counter.

“If you can’t tell them from humans by looking, how the bloody hell are we supposed to find the buggers?”

Spike’s loud voice jarred Xander out of his fantasy. He drew a deep breath, shocked at the violence of the vivid imagery, and relaxed his hands, which had curled up into tight fists in his rage. Willow was staring at him, her eyes narrowed in question, and Xander sighed in relief when Giles diverted her attention.

“Ah. That would be where Willow comes in. Uh…Willow?”

“Oh! Right.” She gave Xander one last, suspicious glance before shuffling through the stack of papers in front of her, pulling out a page of printer paper with a list of addresses. “I have a list of the people who’ve recently placed their homes for sale far cheaper than expected, or who’ve lowered their asking price dramatically in the last several weeks. Some of them have already sold – there’s an x by those – and if there’s a star in front of them, the owners have already moved out.”

Spike left his regular spot on the stairs to lean against the wall, closer to the rest of them, where they were spread out around Giles’ coffee table. He glanced quickly in Xander’s direction, and he got the idea that Spike’s question had been timed, distracting them from Xander’s behavior before he’d done something stupid. Spike was watching out for him, and wasn’t that a freaky thought.

He wondered if maybe he should come clean about ‘the incident,’ as he’d begun calling it when he wasn’t repressing all memory of the event. He didn’t like hiding things from Willow. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share the fact that he’d spent patrol last Tuesday macking on Spike, though. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for that. He decided falling back on his old buddy repression was his best option, and tried to focus on what was going on around him.

Giles pulled a map out of the middle of the pile of papers and books that littered the coffee table. “It’s fairly obvious that they’re targeting this subdivision.” He tapped on one section of the map with a long, thin finger.

“I suggest you concentrate your efforts there for the next few nights, taking this map and the list of the addresses with you. If you see the opportunity to investigate any of the newly abandoned houses without raising suspicion, that would be a bonus, but you should focus on trying to locate any of the Pelznoft, and hopefully following them back to their headquarters. That way, when Buffy returns from visiting her father next week we’ll have some firm facts, and can create a plan of action.”

Spike leaned over the map, examining the area circled in red. “Happy Valley? Who comes up with these names?”

Xander snorted. “Doesn’t sound like it’s a very happy valley right now. Maybe they should have called it Took All Your Money and Ran Valley or Crushed Your Dreams Canyon.”

Giles sighed and leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes, but Tara grinned at him and that was all the encouragement he needed. “How about Pathetic Pines? Ripped You Off Ravine?” Willow giggled at him, and he breathed a secret sigh of relief. Distracting her was definitely of the good. “Oh, I know! Dirty Dealings Dale. Hope You Have Good Insurance Gorge? Underhanded Arroyo--”

“Any chance you can find a map with a close up of this subdivision on your laptop, Red?” Spike interrupted, shaking his head at Xander’s juvenile humor.

“Hey, I was on a roll, there,” Xander grouched good naturedly, relieved that the mood of the gathering had lightened somewhat. When Willow opened her laptop and started hunting for maps, speaking quietly to Tara as she typed, Xander glanced back at Spike, who was staring at him again, his face a neutral mask that gave Xander no indication of what was going on inside his head.

By the time they were halfway though Happy Valley’s questionable hot spots, Xander was totally fed up with Spike’s silence. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be able to think of anything to say that wouldn’t be considered an act of aggression, so he was keeping his mouth shut, teeth clenched against the ugly words that were piling up inside his mind. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t want to start a fight with Spike while he held the knowledge of last week’s break with reality over Xander’s head.

Oh, but it was tempting. He wanted to either rip Spike’s head off, or rip him a new one, or maybe just rip his ass open as he fucked Spike bloody. And he had the feeling that Spike wouldn’t object. He was a vampire, after all, and blood was blood, right? No matter who it belonged to.

“Blackthorn Lane.”

Spike’s words brought Xander slamming back into reality, and he fumbled for the paper with the addresses on it, pulling it out of his jeans pocket.

“That’s on the list, right?” Xander blinked to focus, pulling out a flashlight for the night-blind human and shining it on the wrinkled page.

“Um…yeah. There it is. Actually there are two houses, looks like they’re pretty close together. And they both have a star, so the houses are empty. Let’s check ‘em out.”

Xander’s ugly mood seemed to have lifted; he felt suddenly buoyed up by a strange, almost manic humor, which he struggled to contain. He was beginning to worry about these mood swings. He was actually looking forward to the breaking and entering portion of the evening, but he couldn’t decide if it was the thought of getting away with a little B&E, or simply relief that, at the moment, he wasn’t contemplating slaughter.

It was getting kind of late for the suburbs, so a good number of the residences on the street were dark. The houses in question were next to each other, their sad For Sale signs swinging in the slight nighttime breeze. One of them had a high fence all around the back yard and a sign warning of some alarm company, so they took the path of least effort and started with the other one. It didn’t take long to get inside; Spike’s skill with a lock pick was definitely impressive. Xander wondered if he could get Spike to teach him, strictly in pursuit of the greater good, of course.

The inhabitants had obviously left in a hurry; there were scattered pieces of furniture in the living room and the den, bags full of trash in the hall, and a poorly boarded up window in one bedroom let in enough moonlight to show the broken window pane behind it. The sink in the master bathroom dripped steadily, and in the dining room, one lone chair tilted drunkenly on an obviously broken leg.

The kitchen still had junk in the junk drawer, and there was spoiled food in the refrigerator. Spike examined the broken window above the sink carefully, but there was no way to tell what had happened, except that whatever had broken the glass had come from the outside, since the sink held a number of jagged pieces of glass. They were getting a little discouraged, but then Xander noticed the card held to the ‘fridge by a magnet shaped like a mushroom.

“Bingo! Pelznoft Real Estate. Need to sell in a hurry? Trust us with your home; we’ll take good care of you!”

Spike snorted. “Only a Pelznoft would put it all out there for us like that. Dense bastards. They have no sense of subtlety. None whatsoever.”

Xander shook his head. “There’s even an address and two phone numbers. The only thing missing is a neon sign pointing directly to their lair.” Grinning widely, he tucked the card into his back pocket before brushing his hands together briskly. “Looks like our job here is done.”

He was totally unprepared for Spike’s attack, pushing Xander into the counter, knocking his head against the cabinets behind him. He felt Spike wince when the chip went off, but it hadn’t really hurt that much, just surprised him, and it certainly didn’t slow Spike down. He pressed his body full-length against Xander’s and murmured into his ear.

“Oh, no. I think we’ve just begun.” Spike’s kiss was reckless and hungry, pushing his tongue into Xander’s mouth, aggressive and searching for control. Xander felt something inside him snap, and he shoved Spike away, hard. He followed Spike as he stumbled backwards and hit the refrigerator. The look of astonishment on his face made Xander chuckle deep in his chest, right before he caught Spike’s jaw in his hand and pulled him in for a kiss, showing him how it was really done.

Spike battled with him for control of the kiss, but Xander could tell his heart wasn’t really in the fight. He felt the moment Spike surrendered, his body sagging into Xander’s, and he smiled against Spike’s mouth, reveling in the exhilaration of total command. He pressed tightly against Spike, one hand slipping between the ‘fridge and that tight ass and squeezing harshly. Spike thrust his hips urgently into Xander’s, their cocks coming into contact and making them both moan.

In a corner of his mind, a part of Xander was running around in circles shouting: ‘Warning, Will Robinson! Warning!’ But goddamn, this felt good. He had no idea where this overwhelming aggression was coming from, but it felt so right. When the kiss ended, he stepped back, nodding approvingly at the sight of Spike’s swollen lips, his chest moving with unnecessary breaths, as he leaned heavily against the ‘fridge.

“What the hell are you?” Spike’s voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Does it really matter?” Xander shrugged. “You just do as you’re told, and everything will be fine.”

Spike shook his head. “You have to be careful. Both Red and the watcher were suspicious tonight. They were close to asking questions you don’t want asked.”

“Yes. I saw that.” Xander walked over to the kitchen sink and picked up a large shard of glass. “You did well, tonight - distracting them. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He held the glass up to the window, the faint moonbeams glittering of the edges. “You deserve a reward.”

Xander turned, leaning back against the sink, laying the shard on the counter beside him. He gave Spike a slow perusal, down and back up again, pausing at those swollen lips. “Come here.”

Spike hesitated for just a moment and Xander thought he might have to enforce his mastery of this vampire this early in their relationship. But then he stepped forward until he stood between Xander’s widespread legs. He pulled Spike to him for another kiss, and this time there was no fight. Spike opened his mouth and let Xander in, and Xander took his time, his hands wrapped around Spike’s head, holding him at just the right angle, fucking Spike’s mouth with his tongue, and feeling more alive than he’d ever felt in his life, freed by the surrender in Spike’s every move. Perfect. Spike was perfect, and he belonged to Xander. Of that, he had no doubt.

When the kiss ended, he smiled at those plump lips, running his thumb across them before nipping the bottom one with his teeth. “You have such perfect lips.” He put his hands on Spike’s shoulders, pushing him down. “Why don’t you show me what you can do with them.”

Spike raised one eyebrow slyly, then slid down Xander’s body until he landed on his knees, his cheek and lips grazing the bulge in Xander’s pants. He took his time unbuckling and unzipping, taking every opportunity to tease Xander by brushing casually against him, pressing his knuckles against the head of Xander’s cock as he slowly unzipped his pants. But Xander didn’t mind, he liked the tease, and he was certain he was in for a treat. He’d met Angelus, and he had a feeling that Spike had been well trained.

He felt his lip draw up in a snarl. Never again. Spike belonged to him now, and Xander did not share. Spike’s tongue felt cool against his hot skin as he ran his tongue from the base of Xander’s cock up to the tip. He shuddered. Damn, if he didn’t focus, this wasn’t going to take long at all. He watched Spike as he got to work, sucking on the head, teasing the slit and making Xander’s hips pump slightly, unable to control the responses Spike was drawing out of him.

When Spike shifted slightly, Xander was unprepared for the way he swallowed Xander down, his throat working around the head. He cried out, and he could feel Spike’s amusement even with Xander’s cock down his throat. Spike eventually pulled back and sucked on the head again, licking broad stripes up and down the shaft and flicking his tongue along the bundle of nerves at the base of the head.

Xander had been content to be a passive participant until now, but he was getting close, and he needed to finish what he’d started before he blew his load. He closed his hands around Spike’s skull and pulled him back, away from Xander’s cock. Spike looked up at him in surprise.

“I think I promised you a reward.”

He grabbed the shard of glass from the counter and sliced shallowly across his left palm, the bright, sharp pain making his cock pulse and jump, even as he heard Spike gasp. He held his hand over his hard cock, the bright red drops spattering over the head and along the shaft. He could see Spike fighting his game face, and although he’d have liked to see the beauty of the vampire’s real face, he appreciated the control he held over his nature, especially when Xander’s cock was in such close proximity to Spike’s open, panting mouth.

“Don’t waste it, now. And don’t let it spill on my pants.” His words were firm, and brooked no argument. Spike ducked his head, licking so fast he was almost a blur, making sure he got all Xander’s blood. Xander let his left hand fall to his side, the blood spattering onto the tiles as he gasped and panted, Spike’s agile tongue doing amazing things to his cock. He held onto the counter behind him with his free hand, trying to stay on his feet.

Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pushed Spike back, and grabbed his cock with his bloody hand, jerking frantically as he came, careful to aim his come at Spike’s face, getting as much as he could on that beautiful, stark visage. Spike closed his eyes, but he didn’t try to move, a look of pure abandon on his face. Xander leaned against the sink until his breathing calmed somewhat and he felt strong enough to unlock his knees and stand on his own again. Spike hadn’t moved. Except for his heaving chest, he could almost be taken for a statue.

Xander held out his hand, “Open your eyes.” Spike glanced up to Xander’s face for permission before taking Xander’s hand in his own, licking it clean of the combination of blood and come that coated his palm. Xander was pretty sure it wasn’t the first time Spike had tasted that particular mixture. Once Xander’s hand was clean, he looked for permission again, then began cleaning off Xander’s cock, the lukewarm tongue pleasurable on his skin, although no longer arousing.

When Xander was clean, Spike tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up, then sat back on his heels, looking up at Xander hesitantly, obviously unsure of what was next. Xander lifted his foot and put one sneakered foot down on top of the bulge in Spike’s jeans, rocking his foot back and forth.

“I want to see you jerk off.”

Spike laughed shakily, the first sound he’d made in some time, besides a few moans at the pleasure of tasting Xander’s blood. “Well, this won’t take long.”

Xander grinned, planting his shoe back on the tile floor. “I didn’t think it would.”

Spike was unzipped and out of his jeans in seconds flat, his fist tight around his cock, stripping it rapidly, his hips moving in circular patterns, grinding his cock against his palm. Xander was fascinated by the sound of his gasps and moans, rubbing his own cock through his pants, even knowing there was no way he’d be able to come again so soon. Spike didn’t close his eyes when he came, focused as he was on Xander’s, but his face rippled once or twice before he finally gave in and let his human features melt away as his true face took over.

His come spattered onto the tile floor, some falling over the drops of Xander’s blood in what Xander considered a proper tribute to how all this had begun. He waited for Spike’s breathing to calm and finally stop before he nodded and stepped away, heading for the back door.

“Be sure you clean up that mess before you leave.”

Spike snorted behind him. “With what?”

He turned and caught Spike’s eyes, making sure he had his total attention before he spoke. “With your tongue, of course.”

Then he walked out the door, leaving Spike behind. He was a supernatural creature of the night, Xander was sure he’d catch up in no time. He’d better have left that floor spotless, though, or there would be a punishment in his future. What the hell, maybe there’d be punishment in his future in any event. Spike was sure to do something to earn it.