Old Blood


3 Shut Up and Bend Over

Spike heard the sound of his heartbeat right before the door opened and Xander waltzed into his crypt like it belonged to him.  Spike got out of his chair and turned off the TV, watching Xander warily. 
“Fancy meeting you here.”  Spike pulled deeply on his fag before flicking ash to the crypt floor.  He watched Xander carefully, unsure of which version he was facing: the bumbling, friendly young man who made him laugh or the sadistic bastard that could make him hard with half a dozen words.
“Put that thing out and come over here.”
Spike dropped the cigarette to the floor without thinking, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.  Right then, looked like it was the sadistic bastard for this go around.  He was already half-hard, and he repressed a shiver with effort.   His eyes dropped instinctively, but he refused to go down that easily, he had questions to ask.  He looked back up defiantly, his jaw working as he bit back an automatic comeback.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he blew his lungful of smoke at Xander, feeling somewhat like a recalcitrant child. 
“Now why would I want to do that?” 
Xander looked Spike up and down coldly, as if he were a particularly rank side of beef.  “I said come here.”  Xander’s voice was deceptively quiet, but Spike recognized the implied threat in the tone and reacted immediately, stepping forward until he was only a few feet away. 
“That’s better.” 
Spike swallowed but spoke up, despite his nervousness.  “We need to talk.  The watcher and the witch are worried about you, you know.  They think something is wrong with you, and they’re likely to start digging around and find something.”
“Well, you‘ll have to keep up the good work distracting them then, won’t you?”  Xander stepped closer, running his hand across Spike’s chest, thumbing Spike’s nipple and watching it harden under his touch.  He pinched it lightly between finger and thumb, smiling faintly as Spike arched his chest into the touch.  “As long as you keep your mouth shut, they’ll never know a thing.”
Shaking his head, Spike tried to focus on their conversation, despite the arousal coursing though him.  “It’s not that simple.  They may be totally blind, most of the time, but once they’ve set their teeth into something, they can be as bullheaded as -”
Spike gasped as Xander twisted his nipple cruelly and he closed his eyes, riding though the pain as it transformed itself into a burst of pleasure.  Bloody hell but that felt good.
Spike’s eyes popped open, and he pulled his t-shirt out of his pants without comment, pulling it over his head before tossing it into a corner.  He licked his lips as he went down on one knee to untie his boot.  Xander’s hand curled around the nape of his neck, warm and possessive.  Spike pressed back into it, looking up at him hungrily.
There was that sly grin of his again.  “You look good at my feet, Spike.  If I didn’t need you at my back, I’d never let you up, except to put you in my bed, of course.”
His words struck Spike like a fist.  It had been a long time since anyone had trusted him at their back.  He felt a heady surge of pride and took a deep breath, the strong scent of arousal making him dizzy with lust.  He leaned closer, nuzzling into Xander’s fly, feeling the hardness there waiting for him.  “Shall I?” he asked, his voice muffled by the cloth of Xander’s jeans.
“Not today.”  Xander pulled Spike’s head back, then ran his fingers along Spike’s chin, “I have other plans for today.  Get those jeans off.  Now.”
Spike bent back to his task, switching legs to get the other boot off, using all his speed to get the laces untied as quickly as possible.  He knew he was being distracted from the things he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to get back on track.  As he stood to unbutton his fly, he hesitantly tried again.
“If you want me at your back, I need to know what’s going on, don’t I?”
Xander frowned at him.  It was amazing how different he looked in sadistic bastard mode; that look was not a friendly one.  Spike stepped backwards, stumbling over his jeans, barely catching himself on the back of his chair as Xander stalked in his direction.
“I’ll tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it.  If that’s a problem for you, you’d better tell me now.  If not, shut up and bend over.”
Spike dropped his eyes as he hurried to comply, kicking his jeans away and turning over to face the back of his chair, legs spread wide.  His cock, which had softened slightly during their brief confrontation, stiffened in response to the surge of adrenaline running through him. 
Oh yeah, that was the stuff.  This Xander knew what he was doing, alright.  No more bumbling boy, this was a man in charge, and Spike loved it.  He felt Xander’s hands on his arse, pulling his cheeks wide apart, bending over to blow warm air over his hole, sending Spike’s mind reeling with the dizzying sensations.  He knew he’d been sidetracked into not asking the questions he needed to ask, but he could deal with that later.  He wasn’t about to try and put a stop to this.  Questions could wait.
He heard Xander unzip his jeans, then his cock was rubbing up and down against Spike’s crack.  There was a brief moment when he thought Xander was going to fuck him raw, and he wondered if he should speak up and let Xander know that he had lube between the cushions of the chair.   He could take it – Angelus had always enjoyed fucking him that way, and as hard as he was, it’s not like he’d notice it for long.  Then he felt the cool slick of lubed fingers pressing roughly into him, and relaxed.  The new Xander had come prepared. 
He didn’t spend much time opening Spike up, but that wasn’t a problem.  He was eager to get that fat cock of Xander’s inside him, and had no interest in drawing things out.  As soon as the fingers disappeared, Xander’s cock was there, pressing in hard and fast, and Spike pushed back against him, the raw burn making him moan in pleasure.
Xander pushed in then stopped, buried inside Spike.  His chuckle made Spike shiver when he whispered in Spike’s ear.  “I like that.  That’s what I want to hear from you, moans and gasps - and begging.  I think I’d like to hear you beg.”
“Yeah?  Well, you’re getting it right now, then.  Please!  Move your arse!”  He worked the muscles in his arse the way that had always worked when Angelus had gotten all high and mighty about who was in charge, and it worked.  Xander gasped, his hands clenching convulsively on Spike’s hips.   
He pulled out slowly, teasingly, and Spike gritted his teeth in frustration as Xander’s cock slid out of his hole.  “Ah!  No.  Fuck me!” 
Xander let go of one hip and used that hand to hold his cock steady, allowing him to play with Spike’s arse, nudging up against his arsehole, popping the head in and out.  Spike growled, and tried to thrust backwards onto his cock, but Xander rode with the movement, laughing at Spike’s obvious frustration.  Spike knew he could use his enhanced speed and strength to force himself on Xander’s cock before he could stop Spike, but he had a feeling that might end this encounter, and cause him a world’s worth of trouble, so he held back, despite his exasperation.
A sharp slap on his cheek brought his attention back to Xander.  “I said I wanted to hear you beg.”   Another slap had Spike trembling, not in fear, these were just love taps to Spike, but his need ratcheted up higher and higher with every strike.  A series of staccato blows stung his hip and he capitulated – not because he had to, this was nothing to what he’d been subjected to in the past, but because he wanted more, and that was obviously the only way he was getting fucked tonight.
“All right!”  He stopped short when words brought another flurry of slaps, this time to his other cheek.  “All right.  Please?”
Xander huffed.  “Say it again.  And this time, make me believe you.”  He reached around and twisted both Spike’s nipples roughly.
“Bloody hell!”  Another twist, and Spike squirmed, trying to pull out of his grasp, but the bastard was stronger than he expected, and held on until Spike stopped, panting heavily. 
“Please?”  He frowned, he hadn’t meant that to come out sounding so pitiful, but Xander let go his abused nipples and Spike gasped in relief.   He didn’t give Xander time to change his mind.  “Please?  Please, fuck me?  I’m begging you.”
Xander drove back in until he was balls deep inside Spike.  “That’s more like it.” 
Finally, he began to fuck Spike, who held onto the chair, at first in shock at the ferocity of Xander’s rough, grinding thrusts, and then in self-defense; to avoid being pushed right over the top of the chair and onto the stone floor beyond it.  When Xander shifted forward to lean across his back, Spike couldn’t help his loud shout when the change of position raked Xander’s hard cock across his prostate.
Xander chuckled in his ear again, something Spike was definitely coming to appreciate, and aimed his cock at that spot on his next go around.  Spike heard the sound of cloth tearing right before he realized his fingers were knuckle-deep in the heavy padding of his chair, then Xander hit his sweet spot once again and he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the pounding rhythm of their bodies.   
It was only when Xander’s hand closed around his cock, tugging and squeezing, that Spike realized he was pleading softly, “…please, please, please…”  The bite to the back of his neck surprised him, although it probably shouldn’t have, but then Xander growled, shaking his head to tear the soft skin of his nape, and the sharp, sweet pain sent Spike flying into his orgasm, his cries echoing off the stone walls.
He felt Xander come not long after, as he was floating slowly back down toward the earth, but he was having trouble focusing on the mundane world around him, so he wasn’t actually paying a lot of attention.  He sighed regretfully as Xander pulled out, but didn’t actually have the strength to move.  Xander said something he didn’t bother to listen to, but he jumped, spinning around indignantly when he felt three sharp slaps to his arse.
“Oi.  What the hell was that for?” 
Xander looked angry.  “When I speak, I expect you to listen.”
Spike backed down, realizing he’d overstepped his bounds.  “Sorry, but someone just fucked my brains out my ears.  Give a bloke time to come back down to Earth next time, won’t you?”  He knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn’t help it, he was well shagged, and it was hard to focus under the circumstances.
Xander sighed heavily as if he couldn’t be bothered to discipline him at the moment.  Well, he had just expended a large amount of energy.  If Spike was lucky, maybe he’d save up his indignation for next time. 
“I want you to show up for the meeting Friday night.”
“What?  The whole thing?”  Spike usually avoided the annoyingly dull research and review portions of the evening, coming in just in time for the patrol assignments. 
“As you pointed out, they can be particularly obstinate when they get their teeth into something.  Buffy will be back on Friday.  I need you there, watching my back.”
“Oh.”  Well, that was different, wasn’t it?  It still amazed him that Xander trusted him like that.  “Right, then.  I’ll be there.”  
Xander nodded sharply and left without another word.  Spike shook his head.  He had trouble understanding how the others couldn’t see the difference between the sadistic bastard and the bumbling boy; to Spike it was like night and day. 
He stretched, enjoying the feeling of well-used muscles, then went looking for his kit.  His jeans were easy to locate, but it took some time before he found his shirt on the other side of the room.  Too bad about Friday; he had a basket of kittens all lined up for the poker game at Clem’s.  Hell, the game would start early enough; he should be able to get in a few hands before he had to leave for the watcher’s flat.

4 The Intervention

Xander was sure he was going crazy. The rage inside him multiplied every day, and every day it was harder to control. It was as if he’d somehow lost his ability to censor himself – all the dark, ugly things he usually managed to keep buried were right there, just below the surface. If he wasn’t careful they’d come bubbling out, and someone was liable to get hurt. Today, he’d found himself a hand’s breadth from actually pushing some little old lady into oncoming traffic, simply because she was walking too slowly for him. That’s when he realized he had to do something, or he was likely to commit homicide, and the way he understood these things, that would be very bad for his karma.

What worried him the most was that these days, he felt most comfortable around Spike. When he was with Spike he didn’t have to fight to keep himself in check. Spike knew the dark, ugly Xander, and he liked him just the way he was. When he was with Spike, everything fell into place. It was like they fit together in ways he’d never felt with anyone else before. The problem was that when he wasn’t around Spike, he knew that person wasn’t someone he wanted to be. That’s why he fought it so hard. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a losing battle.

What he and Spike did together made sense to him - perfect sense, in a way that the things he’d done in the past with Anya and Faith, and to an extent, even Cordelia, never had. Not in a heterosexual vs. homosexual way, either. He still loved the women – that was definitely not a problem. It was clear to Xander now that his trouble with the women in his life had been that he wasn’t the one in charge. Once he felt that power, an overwhelming sense of rightness had slipped into place, and he realized what had been missing in all his past relationships. When he stood over Spike, giving orders, making demands, Xander knew he was where he belonged.

And Spike loved it. It was obvious that he’d been well trained, and the demon in him responded eagerly to Xander’s wishes. That was part of what disturbed him, though. There had to be something wrong with what they did, if it came so naturally to a demon. Xander understood, at least partially, the hierarchy that many demon cultures were based on; his stint with the hyena spirit in high school had brought that into clear focus. But he wasn’t a demon, and despite how right it felt, Xander just couldn’t get past the feeling that what he was doing with Spike was wrong.

He didn’t have a problem with playing rough during sex. He could never have gotten off with Faith, if that had been the case – and boy howdy, had he gotten off! Anya, with all her years of experience, had been far more adventurous in bed than Xander would ever have dreamed of being, and he’d never had a problem with anything she’d wanted to try. He’d been a little hesitant over the thought of things going in the out door at first, but once she’d shown him how much pleasure the prostate could offer a man he’d swallowed his pride and never looked back.

She hadn’t been interested in being tied up, but Anya had loved the idea of cuffing him to the bed and playing the dominatrix. Her idea of BDSM, was more on the side of teasing him with pleasure than torturing him with pain, and that suited him fine. He didn’t have any interest in pain. Well, at least not receiving it. He could definitely handle the thought of giving it out. As a matter of fact, it was all he could think of, these days. And it wasn’t just Spike he wanted to hurt.

No, Xander wanted everyone cringing in pain at his feet. He wanted to make them all suffer for no more reason than to hear them beg him for mercy. He found himself watching his favorite old slasher movies with a new eye, critiquing the modus operandi of Jason and Freddy Krueger, taking notes and comparing them with his own ideas for finding more vicious and bloodthirsty techniques for causing mayhem and pain.

That’s why Spike was so perfect - an evil, soulless demon with a deep submissive streak and the perfect leash to keep him under control. As long as he had that chip in his head, he’d have to rely on Xander to keep him in fresh, human blood. Xander had no leash, and he’d quite enjoy keeping his vampire happy and sated - in more ways than one.

As he saw it, his main problem was Buffy and Willow. Spike had headed off a potentially troublesome confrontation last week, yet another reason to keep him around. Until Xander figured out a way to rid himself of the Scoobies, he needed Spike to run interference. If it weren’t for the Hellmouth, he’d take Spike and leave Sunnydale behind, but he liked the energy here. He could close his eyes and feel it buzzing through his veins, malevolent and hungry. It suited him. He could be perfectly happy here with Spike at his side.

He stopped in the courtyard outside Giles’ apartment. Hopefully, Spike was already here, he could use someone in his corner. It wasn’t that Xander couldn’t handle them, he was simply frustrated that he still needed to. He was feeling more in control these days; it seemed the more time that passed since that night in the Chapman crypt, the easier it was to restrain his childish impulses and keep himself focused on the important things.

He couldn’t squelch those impulses entirely, though; he had to keep up a front at his job, as well as around the Scoobies. They weren’t ready for the real Xander; they simply wouldn’t understand. They expected to see their bumbling, irrepressible friend, with his off-key jokes and bright, cheerful smile. So that’s what he’d give them for now. He chuckled; they’d meet the real Xander sooner or later, although he wasn’t sure they’d appreciate him as much as Spike did. Besides, it wasn’t as if he no longer had a sense of humor, it was simply much darker than it used to be.


He had only a second to turn and brace himself for the blonde bundle of slayer that slammed into him, her arms wrapping firmly around and squeezing tightly. He gasped for breath, and she loosened her hold on his ribs, allowing him to inhale creakily. She didn’t let go, but she did pull back a bit to stare into his eyes.

“Hey, Buff. Good to see you, too.” His grin felt strange, as if he hadn’t been using those particular muscles enough recently, and the stretch was suddenly uncomfortable.

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him critically. “Well, you still look like Xander. What have you been doing lately to make Willow and Giles so nervous?”

“Who me?” He blinked his eyes innocently. Damn, Spike was right; they were watching him more closely than he thought. “You know me, Buff, I never do anything wrong.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her face in a complicated pattern, his eyebrows rising and falling in an exaggerated fashion. “These are not the droids you’re looking for.”

She smiled at him, rolling her eyes. “Don’t use your Jedi mind tricks on me; I am totally immune to your evil powers.” She finally let go of him, linking his arm in hers, pulling him down the stairs to Giles’ apartment.

“So how was L.A.?”

“Oh, you know. The usual.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Lots of shopping, expensive meals, trying to make up for two years of not spending any time with me in one week’s worth of extravagances.”

“Took him for every penny you could guilt out of him, huh?”

She grinned mischievously. “You betcha.”

Xander grinned back. Her enthusiasm was rubbing off on him. It got easier, sometimes. He never knew when he’d break out into mean Xander, but being around the guys usually made him feel more like his old self. At least for a while.

Buffy didn’t even stop on the landing, throwing Giles’ door open wide. “Hey, guys. Look who I found skulking around in the courtyard!”

“Xander!” Willow abandoned her spot on a bar stool, hurrying over to make it a group hug, and for a moment, it was like the last two weeks had never happened. His mood swings were getting more and more dramatic – less than three minutes ago, he’d been in the throes of Evil Xanderdom, and now he was on top of the world.

Giles closed the door behind them and stepped around the puppy pile of Scoobies to go back to his spot near the fireplace. “I’m glad you could come, Xander. We have some things to talk about.”

“Uh oh. That sounds ominous.” He looked around the room. Spike was nowhere to be found. It would be out of character to ask specifically about him, but his wasn’t the only face missing. “So where are Tara and Anya?”

Willow looked at Giles nervously, then pulled Xander over to the couch, where Buffy and Willow arranged themselves on either side of him. This was looking worse by the moment. “Ummm. Tara is back at the dorm; she has a test tomorrow in biology and needs to study.” She glanced back at Giles, biting her lower lip, which meant she was lying. You didn’t spend most of your life watching Willow’s nervous habits without learning that she always bit her lip when she lied. Willow was a really bad liar.

Obviously, Giles could sense Willow’s discomfort, even without knowing her since kindergarten, because he stepped in before she dug her hole any deeper. “Tara and Anya will not be joining us this evening. We thought you might be more comfortable discussing the disturbing new developments in your behavior without them.”

Well, fuck. Where the hell was Spike?