Old Blood


11 As Close as a Vamp Can Get

Spike nursed his beer, watching Xander as he and Clem sat on the couch playing Grand Theft Auto. He seemed to be doing good today, the shaking in his hands was minimal, and his spirits were high. But then when he was Butch his spirits were almost always high – The Boy seemed capable of springing back from anything. No matter how low he’d get, sooner or later he and Clem would start babbling on about some superhero or other and he’d be his old self again in no time. The problem was, he seemed to be The Boy a little bit less every day.

The Bastard made Clem nervous so he didn’t stick around long on the days when he made an appearance. Not that The Bastard minded Clem hanging about, he thought of Clem as a valuable ally. He had done well when he’d found them this lair, no doubt about that. The flat belonged to some mate of Clem’s that was visiting family in Nevada or some such thing. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had electricity and cable and even a Play Station for Xander, and when he was Boy Xander, he and Clem would play games or talk about science fiction and comic books and it was as if they were long lost twins or something.

The Bastard, on the other hand, had no use for kid’s stuff, and Clem always found some excuse or other to hightail it out of there on those days. He’d drop their supplies by and remember sudden, urgent business on the other side of town. That suited them all fine. As long as The Bastard was around, Spike preferred Clem leave them alone, as the fun they got up to by themselves was more of the raw and naked kind.

The day The Bastard asked Clem to procure them a set of vamp proof chains, heavy duty lube and a box of latex gloves, Clem turned so pale Spike thought he was gonna have to give him mouth to mouth to start him breathing again. While he and Clem got on just fine, Spike had no bloody interest in kissing him, so it was just as well that Clem knew when to leave. Spike tried to get him to stop bringing over so much junk food, but that had nearly caused a riot, so he’d backed down on that right quick. He barely got Xander to take a vitamin once a day; he had to take his victories where he could get them.

He took another drink of his beer, running his fingers up and down the neck absent-mindedly. They’d been here close to two weeks, now, and Spike wasn’t sure why they were still in town. He’d brought up the idea of heading out of state often enough that The Bastard had finally cracked down, and told him if he mentioned the subject again he’d keep Spike in a ball gag full time. He told Spike he trusted him, but he refused to admit that they couldn’t leave, and Spike was beginning to wonder if he knew why.

Maybe he was afraid that if he left the Hellmouth, he’d start to lose his hold on Xander’s body? Maybe it was the power of the Hellmouth that kept him as strong as he was. And he was strong when he was The Bastard; stronger than when he was Butch, anyway. Still not as powerful as a vampire, but he was getting his strength from somewhere supernatural, and there was no place more supernatural than the Hellmouth.

What kept Spike worried was the nightmares, and the sudden fits Xander would take when he’d collapse to the floor, pale and shaky, and have to be carried to bed. He’d sleep it off, and when he woke he’d be fine. Then he’d go on like it had never happened, refusing to talk about it, like the child that closed his eyes to make the monsters go away. But Spike kept watch, and he knew it wasn’t getting any better. Not by a long shot.

At least they didn’t seem to be in any danger of being discovered by the slayer. Clem had been at Willy’s Bar the other day, and the word was going round that the slayer hadn’t been asking as many questions this week. Week before, she’d been over most every day beating the hell out of Willy and half the demons in his bar trying to get some word on where they were. Hopefully they’d decided Spike and Xander had left town by now, and would ease up their search. Clem wasn’t buying Spike’s blood locally, which should throw them off the trail some. He was also wearing a set of the same charms as Spike and Xander, so that should confuse the issue even more.

Clem jumped up out of his seat, cheering at something on the screen that had them both laughing like loons. He and Xander might as well be the same person, they had so many things in common: superhero comics, science fiction TV shows, bad slasher films and Godzilla movies, Saturday morning cartoons, video games. It was like having two kids in the flat, and sometimes Spike wanted to go out and kill something so badly he ached with the need to get away from the whole crazy mess. But then he’d find himself sitting on the floor, leaning back between Xander’s legs, his strong, callused fingers kneading the muscles of Spike’s shoulders. They’d drink beer and laugh as they made fun of some old kung fu movie and he’d realize he hadn’t felt this calm and easy in ages.

When The Bastard was in the room, well, there was a pit in his stomach filled with fire and need, and he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep Xander safe. Xander’s sure hands on his body made him feel real, made his skin tingle and his cock ache and he never wanted it to end. He knew he was cherished for who he was, not what he could do for Xander. With Angelus, Spike had never been an equal partner, he’d always been an afterthought, the childe of his childe. Only worth the effort to raise up the right way so there would be someone to take care of Drusilla.

And Dru – he’d followed wherever she wanted to go, let her take the lead in their games whenever she wanted, but for the most part, he had been the strong one, the one to keep her safe and make sure she had the luxuries she craved: the softest beds and the loveliest gowns and toys and tea parties and dozens of dolls to keep her company. He was the one who kept her safe when she wanted to dance out into the sun and play with the beams of light; the one who held her when her visions sent her screaming until exhaustion took her and her nightmares had her tearing out her hair and sobbing in his arms.

He ran his finger around the lip of his beer bottle as he contemplated a hundred years worth of dedication to his dark princess. Sometimes it felt more like a thousand years, he was worn so thin from running along behind her – always a step behind, trying to do whatever it was she needed and struggling to be someone he wasn’t in order to keep her happy and safe. He was never what she wanted in the end. How could he be, when all she wanted was her Daddy, her Angelus?

Spike had loved her forever, but he was tired of being the strong one. He wanted someone to hold him when he had bad dreams and keep him safe for once. Xander was willing to do that; he craved the chance to be there for Spike. Butch hadn’t understood it at first – to him it meant that Spike thought of himself as weak. But if Spike were weak, then The Bastard would never consider him worthy of watching his back. The Bastard trusted him, and that showed he was worthy; showed he was worth the effort.

“Oh, wow! Look at the time! I gotta go.” Clem was out of his seat and across the room in seconds, grabbing his backpack and the empty cooler Spike’s blood had come in.

Spike glanced at Xander in surprise. It looked like The Bastard had made an appearance while Spike was lost somewhere in his own head. He seemed to show up out of the blue these days, at less than a moment’s notice.

Spike followed Clem to the door. “Thanks, mate.”

Clem’s smile reminded Spike of Boy Xander’s – cheery and good humored, despite his nervousness as he glanced back at Xander, who’d turned off the TV and sat there watching them, dark eyes hooded and remote. “No problem, Spike. I’ve had more fun in the last couple of weeks than I’ve had in years.” He waved awkwardly at Xander. “See ya tomorrow!”

Spike locked the door behind him, knowing there was a good chance of sex in his immediate future. He grabbed his beer, taking a couple of swigs, thinking he’d finish it off before he joined Xander on the couch.

“Slow down,” Xander ordered hoarsely.

Spike looked over at him in surprise. “What?”

“I couldn’t concentrate on the game. All I could see was you running your fingers around the mouth of that bottle, your lips wrapping around it as you drank. You’ve been touching that bottle like it was my body. Show me what you’re going to do once I give you permission to touch me.”

Spike smiled sexily and licked his lips. “What? You mean when I stick the tip of my tongue in like I’m fucking your arsehole?” He flicked his tongue in and out of the mouth of the bottle. “Or maybe when I lick all around the rim like this?” He used that bottle every way he could think of, licking and sucking and practically deep throating it before Xander called a halt to the demonstration so he could put all his practice into use. After all, practice makes perfect. And Spike was perfect, Xander told him so, more than once.

The part Spike liked best was when Xander pulled him up so he was kneeling on the couch, one leg on either side of Xander’s body, and shoved two slick fingers in Spike’s arse while he bit the soft skin of Spike’s stomach and tongue fucked his navel. By the time Spike was ready to ease down onto Xander’s slick shaft, he was so hard that he had to close his eyes on the sight of Xander’s hungry smile so he wouldn’t come before they even got to the main event.

With Xander’s fat cock buried deep inside him, he was as close to heaven as a vampire could get; grinding and undulating, his hips moving sinuously as he rose and fell, leaving Xander flushed and breathless. Spike clutched at the back of the couch, holding on white-knuckled as he writhed and trembled, his cock painting slick stripes on Xander’s belly when he leaned forward to bring their faces close enough to kiss.

With Spike’s nipples so close to hand, Xander took his time playing with them, pulling and twisting until they ached pleasurably, then sucking the swollen nubs into his mouth to soothe them with his tongue. When he bit down on one nip suddenly, Spike came without touching his cock, the sudden rush of pain/pleasure shocking him, his back arching as his hips stuttered uncontrollably.

It took him a minute to recover and realize that Xander was still hard inside him, so he put his vampire stamina to good use, tightening his muscles and griping Xander’s cock as he writhed and bucked, rolling his hips and using every trick in his arsenal to practically pull Xander’s orgasm out of him. It was some time before either of them was willing to move after that, but finally Spike prodded Xander to his feet and they shared a shower, where Spike showed Xander that even humans were capable of coming twice in a fairly short amount of time when they’re assisted by a vampire with a talent for rimming and an extremely agile tongue.

12 Starry-Eyed Romantic

“What would you do, if I wasn’t around?”

Xander’s head lay in Spike’s lap, so the angle was awkward, but he watched Spike’s face as closely as he could, resisting the urge to close his eyes and do his best to purr when Spike stroked his fingers through his hair.

“What the hell are you on about?”

They’d been watching some really bad made for TV movie on the SciFi Channel, or had been until they’d both drifted off in the early am hours. It had been a rough day. Xander hadn’t slept well the night before, the nightmares that haunted his sleep forcing him back to consciousness time and time again. He’d had the shakes for most of the day, and Spike had insisted he take a nap in the afternoon, after he’d fallen in the bathroom, his knees giving out from under him, and hadn’t been able to get back up.

Usually a couple hours sleep helped, but he’d woken just as shaky as he’d gone to bed, and Spike had to force him to eat some soup and crackers, just to get something in his stomach. He felt a little better after he ate, and they’d lazed around doing nothing much, just hanging out while Spike talked to him about Budapest and Greece and Peru. Xander wanted to see the Brazilian rain forests, and although Spike said he preferred Rio and sleeping under a roof where he could stay dry and comfortable, he admitted that he was curious, and could be talked into going with Xander, if he wanted the company.

Now, tired and sore from a day of stress and worry, Xander’s thoughts drifted over the places Spike had promised to take him once he was feeling better. If he got better, which he wasn’t very positive about at the moment. He reached over blindly, fumbling the remote from the coffee table and clicking off a fascinating infomercial hosted by a guy with a really bad bald spot and a pitiful looking comb-over.

“I mean it, Spike.” Xander reached up and nudged him in the ribs with one finger. “What would you do if I left you?”

Spike didn’t look very happy about the direction this conversation was headed. “Going somewhere?”

“Not now, no. But eventually…” He let his words trail off, unsure of what to say. He really didn’t want to think about this any more than Spike did, but the thoughts in his head wouldn’t go away.

“Not without me, you’re not.” Spike’s fingers tightened in his hair almost to the point of pain, holding onto the curls Xander could never manage to keep in place. He nudged Spike’s hand with his head, and Spike loosened his grip, fingers running restlessly through Xander’s hair.

Xander rocked his head on Spike’s lap. “You can’t go everywhere with me.”

“Why not?” Spike wanted to know.

“Even to the bathroom?”

“Depends.” He shrugged. “If you’re taking a shower, then I’ll be glued to your side.”

“That would make it difficult to get clean.”

Spike sighed exasperatedly. “Who said anything about getting clean?”

“That’s what you usually do in the shower.”

“Only after I’d got us both dirtier first.” He leered down at Xander, which was a funny thing to see from Xander’s sideways angle.

“I don’t think you could get any dirtier.”

“Oi!” Spike grabbed a lock of Xander’s hair and tugged lightly.

Xander grinned. “Loon.”

“That’s my word,” Spike complained.

“It’s mine, now. And you never answered the question.”

“Which question?” Spike was definitely trying to avoid the subject.

“What would you do if I were gone?” Spike frowned at him, but Xander ignored that. “Would you travel? Back to New York? Have you ever been to Australia? Or what about London – that’s home, right? Maybe to Brazil to find Drusilla.”

“No. I wouldn’t be welcome there.” Spike answered shortly. That surprised Xander.

“Why not?”

“I don’t belong to her anymore, do I?”

He sounded so matter of fact about it. Xander couldn’t understand why Spike wasn’t upset by that admission. He’d been with Drusilla for so long. He had to miss her so much.

“But you love her.”

“I always will. She’ll always be my dark princess. But she’s not mine anymore. And I’m fine with that. I’m not hers anymore, either.” Xander’s heart ached for Spike. How could that not hurt him?

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” Spike ran the backs of his fingers lightly down Xander’s cheek. “I’m yours.”

His, you mean,” he said bitterly. He wasn’t sure why that hurt so much, but it did.

Spike shook his head. “I belong to Xander.” He grinned mischievously. “Both of them.”

Xander sat up, crossing his legs so he could sit sideways on the couch. “But if I wasn’t around…” He couldn’t let it go, but Spike didn’t even give him a chance to finish.

“You never answered my question, either, you know. Where are you going, that I can’t follow?”

“I don’t know. Who knows what will happen in the future. Things change. Sometimes they change really fast.”

“I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

Xander liked the sound of that, the way Spike said it like there was no doubt in his mind. He wanted it to be true, but there was one undisputable fact that Spike was ignoring. “Spike. Someday, I’ll die.”


Xander spoke slowly, as if to a child who simply couldn’t grasp the concept. “I’m mortal! We mortals tend to do that. Eventually, I’ll die.”

“You don’t have to.” Spike’s face turned stubborn, and he refused to look Xander in the eye.

“You planning on turning me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not anytime soon, you nob.” Sometimes the obvious simply needed to be stated. “There’s a little matter of the chip that might get in the way.”

A new thought began to take hold in Xander’s brain. “Do you think that’s his idea?”


“The Sadistic Bastard.” He used air quotes to make it stand out. “My alter ego. Does he want to get vamped?”

“Who the bloody hell knows? Not like he tells me anything.” Seems Xander had hit upon a sore point. “He keeps me totally in the dark. You’d know better than me.”

Xander laughed. “He keeps me in the dark, too. Do you want me to be a vampire?”

“I wouldn’t mind, I guess. Except that you might not be you anymore.”

“I wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Turning’s not an exact science, you know. I don’t really know how it works, it just does, and you never know what will happen. You could lose most of your personality, and if that happened, you wouldn’t be you anymore. That would be a shame, because I’ve grown exceedingly fond of you.”

Xander couldn’t help the grin that statement caused. “So I might be like The Bastard all the time. Not me at all.”

“Yeah, maybe. The Bastard would make a marvelous vampire, but I don’t want to lose you – Butch, I mean. I want you both.”


“What do you mean, why? There’s more to you than The Bastard, the same way there’s more to you than The Boy. It’s what you are together that I want. Why would I settle for just half of you when I could have it all?”

“I’m not sure you can have both.” He chewed on his lip as he thought that one out. “What if it’s me or him?”

Spike’s stare seemed to go right through him. “We’re not talking about turning here, are we?”

He had to think about that question. “I don’t honestly know.”

Spike ran his hand down the side of Xander’s face. “I’ll take whatever part of you I can get.”

Xander’s jaw fell open in shock. “You’re a romantic.”

“Am not!” Xander laughed at the panicked look on Spike’s face. “You take that back.”

“It’s true!” He felt a wide grin split his face. “A soppy, starry-eyed, sentimental fool!”

Spike reached over and shoved Xander’s shoulder. “Why you manky little plonker!”

“That’s not even English.” Xander returned the shove. “Speak English!”

“I’ll show you English!”

Xander should have expected some sort of retaliation, but he was totally taken by surprised when Spike leaned over, poked his fingers into Xander’s ribs and start tickling. He squirmed away, or tried to, but with Spike’s superior strength, it wasn’t as easy as he expected. They wrestled about, Xander’s screams getting in the way of his launching a counter attack – it was hard to fight back when you were short-breathed with laughter.

It didn’t take long before they landed on the floor, rolling over and over, knocking the coffee table on its side and sending their thankfully mostly-empty beer bottles rolling across the room. When they finally began to settle down, Xander found himself trapped under Spike’s body, his hands held above his head. Xander stared up at him, smiling, perfectly content to stay in this moment forever, if he could.

Spike leaned down, his lips barely touching Xander’s, brushing a feather-light kiss across them. They didn’t usually kiss like this, Xander was used to The Bastard being in charge when they got all groiny, but this was different, and Xander raised his head, trying to hold onto the kiss as long as he could. So Spike kissed him again, and again, until one blended into a dozen, sweet and romantic, and totally perfect.

A long time later, Spike pulled them both back onto the couch, and they lay wrapped around each other, Xander’s head on Spike’s chest, Spike’s fingers running gently through Xander’s hair. As he drifted off to sleep he thought he heard Spike whisper.

“I don’t want to lose either one of you.”


Xander woke with a start, disoriented and gasping for breath. He coughed harshly, a nasty taste in his mouth. Raising his head, he realized Spike’s chest was wet - covered with blood. It looked like old blood, dark and thick and foul. It took Xander a moment to realize it was coming out of his mouth and nose. He pushed himself backwards, struggling to his feet, as Spike opened his eyes, blinking up at him, confusedly.


Spike moved quickly, just in time to catch Xander as his knees gave out from under him. He tried to speak, but the room was spinning around him, and then the world went black.