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Let's Talk About Sex


Part Thirty-Five

Spike was seething with hatred. He hated sitting in that fucking wheelchair. Hated the Slayer for putting him there by dropping that goddamn organ on him. Hated being helpless and hungry. Hated not being able to hunt, fight, kill, feed, shag. But most of all he hated Angelus.

Every single gesture that passed between Angelus and Drusilla, every touch, every word cut like a knife, like it was meant to. Angelus toyed with Drusilla, not because he felt anything for her, but because he could. Because Spike’s spine was broken. Because there was nothing Spike could do to stop him. Who’d have thought jealousy could hurt so much?

Spike watched with perverse intensity as Angelus slid his hands underneath Drusilla’s skirts. Spike listened as they laughed and told him of their exploits. They were sated and smelled of sex and violence. They had caught a young girl and brought her into the mansion alive, but they had killed her without inviting Spike to join them.

“I guess we forgot. We got tied up,” Angelus grinned and rubbed Drusilla’s wrists demonstrably. She giggled. Spike struggled not to let his humiliation and fury show.

“There, there…,”Angelus patted Spike on the head before grabbing him by his hair and forcing him to look up. “I’m sure we can find something for you to…”

Spike woke with a start. His body was tense with hatred and humiliation, like a clenched fist. It took him a moment to realize when and where he was. When he did, his rage didn’t exactly go away - only a decent bout of destruction and violence would do the trick - but at least it cooled off a bit. Spike shook his head to clear his mind.  Two years worth of acting under the threat of chip induced migraines had done wonders for his self-control.

There were sounds of arguing coming from the bedroom. Bollocks! Spike rolled off the sofa and hastily slipped into his pants, hopping on one leg towards the bedroom door. He could hear Xander and Anya talking in raised voices. He pulled up the zipper and ran his hands through his hair. It was soft and poofy without the usual gel. Ah well, no time for that now.

“You wasted no time, did you?” Xander was just saying. He sounded hurt and insecure. “Is there anything else I should know about?”

“You started this,” was Anya’s confused and irritated reply. Spike realized their argument was about what’d happened last night, between him and Anya.

Bollocks! he thought once more, but then he corrected himself. No wait! Not bollocks. The jack is out of the box, that’s all. Was bound to happen.  Not bothering to knock, Spike just opened the door. He was momentarily blinded by bright (but fortunately indirect) daylight.

“I didn’t think you’d mind. Why should you? YOU invited him to have sex with us. It was your idea,” Anya was shouting. She and Xander were still in their pjs. Both were too caught up in their argument to notice the vampire. “You say you wanted him for me, but how do I know you haven’t been hankering after his body for years already? How do I know you weren’t thinking about HIM whenever we were having sex?”

Spike took a deep breath, bracing himself for the inevitable. “Don’t,” he said.

Xander flinched, startled by the interruption, and quickly turned towards the intruder. He saw Anya do the same.

The vampire stood in the doorway, just beyond the threshold. He made no move to come in. He was barefoot, dressed only in his black leather pants, hair all unruly and in soft waves, almost curly. He looked even paler than usual in the bright morning light, beautiful but also not quite human. Xander was acutely aware of the effect that lean, masculine body was having on him. He also found himself wondering if Anya felt the same way, and what Spike felt for Anya, and what if both had seen him as second best all along. That’s when he freaked.

“Spike!” Xander exclaimed, hot anger honing in on the new target. “You’re just in time to watch us bring the house down.”

“Don’t.” the vampire repeated, lifting his hands pleadingly. It looked as if he was trying to ward off a blow. “Don’t do this to yourselves.”

“What? Isn’t this what you planned all along?” Xander snapped. He couldn’t help it, he was overcome by raging insecurity, not to mention the mounting dread that what was happening between Anya and him might be the beginning of the end.

“Do you think so?” Anya interjected, sounding uncertain. “Do you think he lied to me… us?” The look of betrayal and sadness in her eyes just helped to fuel Xander’s anger.

Spike dropped his hands, in a gesture of defeat and shook his head.

“You can bring out the popcorn, Spike. What with Anya and me, fighting,” Xander continued accusingly. “Front row seat and all.” Part of him knew he was being unfair because the vampire looked anything but happy, but another part of him felt like lashing out.

“Fine,” Spike said coldly. “Think what you will.” He was struggling for composure but felt his self-control crumbling. Spike had known there’d be setbacks. Rome wasn’t built in a day he tried to remind himself. Even so, Xander’s mistrust felt like a knife that was twisted around in his gut. It hurt and it made him furious.

Christ, why is all this getting-along-with-people shit so bleedin’ difficult? God knows it was difficult enough when I was alive. How on earth am I supposed to know what to do or say? It's not like I spent the last 120 years honing my bloody social skills.

The vampire turned around and strode back into the living room.

Shit, I did it again! Xander stared at Spike’s retreating back. “Hey! Not so fast,” he exclaimed. He hastened to follow the vampire into the darkened living room, Anya at his heels. They almost bumped into him, when Spike suddenly stopped and turned around. He looked absolutely livid.

“You know, I’ve had it with you bloody humans,” Spike shouted in a mixture of exasperation and anger. He began pacing. “I’m fed up with all this farting around. I mean, what’s it take? How many bloody hoops do I have to jump through before you get it into your thick skull, Harris: I’m not your enemy. Or Anya’s! It was YOU, Xander, who made me come back from L.A. and now you think that was all part of my grand evil master plan? Oh please!”

Xander tried to get a word in between, but the vampire was on a roll. “Already told Anya last night,” Spike continued, gesturing towards the ex-demon, “I’ve no intention of wrecking that thing you’ve got. Not my MO.” The vampire stopped pacing and stood in front of Xander. “But you don’t need me for that, do you? You can mess this up all by yourself. Don’t think I don’t know that your worst nightmare is. Not the hellmouth. Not nasties like me. You’re just scared you’ll end up like your soddin’ parents. Am I right? Well, let me tell ya, you’re on your best way!”

Xander cringed. Anya reached for her fiancé’s hand. He didn’t respond. His arms were limply hanging at his sides. The vampire’s words were like a slap in the face. How come he knows these…things?

“I… I’m…” Xander stammered.

“You’re what? Twenty-one?” With two long strides Spike was standing next to his duffle bag. He picked it up and rummaged around in it, without interrupting his tirade. “The way you and Anya talk is like you can’t reach fifty fast enough. House, kids, rings, forever blah blah. You live on the hellmouth and you can snuff it any day, so why make everything so bloody complicated?” He yanked a black T-shirt out and pulled it over his head. “Seize the day, for Christ’s sake!” He sat down and started to put on his shoes, fumbling ineffectually with the laces.

“What’s wrong with wanting a house and kids and a car and all those things?” Anya asked, looking alternately at her fiancé and the vampire. “It’s what humans do. I am human now. I’m trying to act like one. It’s hard work, what with all those rules and strange human traditions, but I don’t mind. I want Xander to be happy. I love him,” she stated simply.

Xander swallowed. He squeezed Anya’s hand, suddenly very certain of what he wanted. “And I love you too,” he said and turned to look at her. “Very much.” He pulled her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her anxiety and confusion away.

Spike looked up from his laces. He hadn’t seen the two mortals kiss like that since what seemed like forever. Not since the day the Gentlemen had stolen everybody’s voices. He watched quietly for a moment before wrenching his gaze and attention back to his boots.

Most of his anger was spent, as was most of his momentum. He wearily got up and slung his bag over his shoulder. He tried to concentrate on the task of getting back to his crypt without catching fire. The deSoto was parked too far away. He’d have to borrow a blanket. Maybe the building had access to the sewers…

Spike made his way to the door, when suddenly a hand touched his shoulder. He turned around.

“You’re running away again,” Xander stated, one arm around Anya’s waist. “You’re how old? One hundred and twentysomething? Well, my pointy-toothed friend, you’re acting like a five-year old, throwing tantrums, sulking… I should know, I’ve often been told that that’s my mental age.”

Spike frowned, trying to understand Xander’s sudden change of tone. “Sulking! I’m a vampire. Vampires don’t sulk.”

“They must, because you are.”

“Am not.”

“Actually, Xander’s right. You are,” Anya interjected amiably.

“Don’t run away again, Spike. Last week was bad enough,” Xander pleaded. “I’m sorry. Again. I still mean what I said on the phone. I just had a temporary lapse of… I dunno…”

“Trust.” Spike prompted.

“Yeah,” Xander admitted unhappily. “But I’m working on it. So, are you staying for breakfast? We could, like, talk and um, well, talk…”

“Or we could play Scrabble,” Anya suggested cheerfully.

“Scrabble?” Xander and Spike replied as one.

Part Thirty-Six
Practice makes Perfect (Part 1)

“W-E-I-R-D. That’s nine points for me,” Xander declared, as he placed the letters on the playing board. And weird doesn’t even begin to cover it. He stole a glance at the two blondes who were both deep in concentration. I’m playing Scrabble with an ex-demon who is more than fifty times my age – jeez talk about robbing the cradle – and a vampire who reads children’s books while listening to the Doors and smoking pot. Who both know how I like my coffee. He lifted his Spiderman mug and took a sip. Perfect.

He felt relaxed. Okay, that was a complete and utter lie. He was extra twitchy, but in a happy way. It was like a chocolate fuelled sugar high, only not so heavy with the calories. Breakfast had turned into a comfortable and cheerful brunch. Spike had done deliberately disgusting things with his food, like pouring a mixture of blood and milk over his coco pops or dunking his toast in blood. Xander had made the fuss that was expected of him. But inwardly he’d chuckled because nothing could be quite as gross as Anya’s cheeses, which smelled like something had crawled into the fridge and died there.

Anya placed a word on the board and happily tallied her points.

“Spike? Can I ask you something?” Xander asked, not wanting to sound distrustful, but unable to suppress his curiosity.

“Sure,” Spike said absentmindedly. He rearranged his letters and squinted at the board. Then he put down his tiles and presto, Xander’s DENT became RESPLENDENT.

Anya added up the total, worked out the bonus points, and frowned at her notepad. Spike was definitely in the lead now.

“What you said …hm… about not wanting to break us up…um…”

“Trust me, the only way I ever wanted to come between you two is in a sandwich,” Spike said slightly on edge, wondering why Xander felt the need to bring the subject up AGAIN. “If you’re still worried…”

Sandwich! Xander’s rampant imagination helpfully supplied him with a visual. A very explicit visual, that sent a tingle through his body: Spike’s pale lean body writhing underneath him, pounding into Anya, as he thrust his own cock into the vampire’s tight… Suddenly, Xander’s pants felt a lot tighter than just moments before. Not now! he told himself and forcefully pushed the image aside. Bad bad Xander!

“No!” Xander snapped, meaning both the vampire and his own wayward thoughts. “Not worried. Nope. It’s just,  I believe you and all… but …you said it’s not your M.O.… and I was wondering… why not?”

Spike looked up from his game pieces. He ran his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture and took a deep breath. “For a time there were four of us: Darla, Angelus, Dru and me,” he said hesitantly. “Darla would sometimes go off on her own. Those were good times. Mostly. Then Angelus got turned into Angel and scampered off to brood on his wicked ways. Dru and me, we didn’t really get on well with Darla, so we traveled on our own, for almost a century.” He smiled wistfully.

Xander nodded, trying to encourage the vampire to carry on. In all the years he’d known him - Jeez, it’s five years since he first came to Sunnydale! - Spike had never revealed any details about his early years – at least not to Xander.

“Anyway, when the great soddin’ poof had his big happy and turned into Angelus again, that’s when things turned sour,” Spike continued. “What we had - Dru and me…we… I always thought it would last, well, forever, you know. Till death do us part or the sun turns cold and all that sentimental rot - but then Angelus came along and wrecked it. He always liked breaking… things. My princess only had eyes for him. That… well, it hurt.” He dropped his gaze, still unaccustomed to the strange intimacy that was slowly growing between them.

“I’m sorry,” Xander said, even though that was an odd thing to say, for if Spike were still with Dru he sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here, about to win this round of Scrabble with words Xander had never even heard of – but which the dictionary proved existed.

“I’m not sorry. If you two hadn’t broken up, you wouldn’t be here with us right now,” Anya said truthfully, echoing Xander’s thoughts. Nevertheless, she reached out to pat the vampire’s hand comfortingly, before focusing on important things, like winning this game of Scrabble.

“Yeah well, no use cryin’ over spilt milk anyway,” Spike said with a shrug. “Got a hundred and twenty years worth of memories,” he continued, dropping his voice to a more seductive rumble, “In fact, quite a few of ‘em are x-rated. Some of ‘em very handy for what you’re planning…”

Anya lifted her eyes from the playing board and stared at the vampire. Her imagination was working overtime and a tiny part of her, in the back of her head, was unashamedly taking mental notes for her ‘Bunny Autumns’-saga.

Xander, too, was suddenly overwhelmed by the mental image of Spike, Angel and Drusilla in one big oversized bed, their limbs intertwined, licking and kissing and sucking and thrusting… Ew? Well maybe not so much, because Xander felt himself utterly turned on. He swallowed. His mouth suddenly felt dry. He opened it up to say something witty, but nothing came out, and he just knew he looked like a carp.

Spike leaned back. He tilted his head and flashed them a calculated, predatory grin, doing that …thing!… with his tongue: making its tip dart out and curl between gleaming white teeth.

Xander felt like a cat mesmerized by a dangling piece of string: ready to pounce. Oh, to capture that impish tongue with his mouth and play with it… - which was undoubtedly the desired effect. Spike, you diabolical fiend! From the amused look on the vampire’s face, Xander could tell that the vampire sensed his – he glanced at Anya, correction: their – heightened interest. Interest? Hah! What a euphemism!  “Jeez, Spike, watch what you’re saying! Now I’ve got all kinds of pornographic images in my head!” he finally choked out.

“Good,” Spike grinned.

As far as Spike was concerned, they were way into foreplay. His gaze was traveling from one to the other. Oh, yes… The scent of arousal that wafted over from the two was tantalizing.

They were sitting round Harris’s dinner table. The two humans might not be able to smell the vampire’s arousal but they had eyes and the table had a glass surface… He shifted languidly on his seat, both to get more comfortable and to draw Anya and Xander’s attention to the erection that was creating a visible bulge in the shining black leather. Spike saw Xander’s gaze drop to his crotch and flicker upwards again.

“I think,” Spike said conversationally and got up under the pretence of  bringing his empty Batman mug to the sink, “we should have a dress rehearsal.”

“What do you mean?” Anya asked with great interest. Her heart was beating faster in anticipation. She watched as Spike sauntered back to the table, but not to sit down. Instead, he walked up to her until he stood behind her chair. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and took the pen out of her grip. He dropped it on the table. Then his fingertip began to paint small circles on the warm skin of her left hand. His cool touch sent a wave of heat through her body.

“I mean, we don’t have to wait for your birthday, now do we? In fact, we should probably practice a bit,” Spike said, his voice soft, enticing. He let his gaze travel from Xander to Anya and back. Carefully, as if testing the water, he ran his index finger lightly from her wrist to her elbow and then to her shoulder. “You know what they say, practice makes perfect…Come on, you know you want to.”

“Now?” Xander squealed.

“Now?” Anya asked expectantly.

“Of course, why not? It IS possible to have sex spontaneously, you know.” He repeated his ministrations on her other arm, relishing the silky feel of her skin and the way she smelled.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Anya exclaimed, sounding slightly breathless. She craned her neck to look at the vampire. “Sunday is a great day for spontaneous sex. We could, for instance…” she petered off uncertainly, as she was suddenly not sure which of her fantasies she would like to become real.

“Ah ah,” Spike chided her gently. “This isn’t a shopping list we’re making, pet. Stop thinking, luv. Takes all the fun out. Just feel. See what happens.” He caressed both her hands, her wrists and lower arms, slowly working his way towards her shoulders. He brushed her hair aside, then bent down and languidly kissed her exposed neck, along the jugular. Content to let the vampire set the pace, Anya just arched towards him invitingly.

Spike shot a glance at Xander.

The young man was quite entranced by the vampire’s actions. Xander realized he was being tested, but he was not offended. Not long ago, Spike had said something about this, what was it? ‘I can’t see you letting me touch your honey’ or something. They had talked about trust. Funny how quickly things had changed between them… Watching Spike caress Anya was no way as high on the freak-o-meter as he’d expected. On the contrary, Xander’s body was tingling with desire. Anya was so pretty and desirable. And the almost reverent way in which Spike was touching her was incredibly erotic. Xander could almost feel the vampire’s hands on his own skin, his cool lips on his own throat. It made him ache with want. He swallowed and wondered what the others would think if he opened his pants to get more comfortable.

Spike shook off all lingering doubt and hesitation. He allowed his hands to roam over Anya’s body, concentrating on its softness and warmth, committing everything he learned to memory. He reached for the front of her sleeveless blouse and began to unbutton it, revealing the black bra she wore underneath. Meanwhile he was teasing her earlobe and neck with his lips. When the buttons were undone she leaned forward, allowing him to push the garment off her shoulders. Xander watched in fascination. Almost out of its own accord his hand was coming to rest lightly on his burning cock that was straining against the inside of the zipper.

“You’re beautiful, luv, so beautiful,” Spike murmured admiringly as his fingers trailed over her heated body. Anya smiled, drawing great reassurance from the compliment. Okay, Xander paid her compliments too. But as her fiancé he was under a moral obligation to do so, wasn’t he? After all, that was part of being in love, right? She shot a glance at Xander. Did he enjoy watching them? Well, obviously his penis did. Yay!

“You are very handsome yourself, Spike,” Anya replied truthfully. “I look forward to seeing you naked again.”

I second that! Xander thought.

Spike chuckled. “And you shall, sweet pea. You shall.”

He undid the clasp that tied her hair in a ponytail and ran a hand through her hair, enjoying the silky sensation. He gently tilted her head upwards, then bent down to press his lips on hers. Her lips parted willingly under his probing tongue. It was a slow kiss, not wild or demanding like last night, but sweet and promising. Both savored the moment, allowing the passion to build slowly.

Xander watched. Feeling decidedly wayward, he opened his pants and began to squeeze his shaft rhythmically, through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Finally, Spike pulled back to allow Anya to breathe. He quickly transferred his attention from one human to the other. He was surprised to see Xander touching himself and arched his eyebrow to say so, but then he gave a brief nod and turned back to Anya as she got up and came towards him. Holding his gaze she slowly reached out to cup his face and trace the contour of his eyebrow with her fingertips, tenderly ghosting over the scar.

Spike inhaled audibly. He was not used to being touched like that.

Anya paused, but when Spike pulled her into his arms for a barrage of kisses, increasingly intense and demanding, she decided it had been an expression of surprise, not displeasure. She left her hand in place, while running the other through his gelled hair. She melted into his embrace, eager to feel the vampire’s hard body in as many places as possible, responding to his chill with even more heat. She could feel herself growing wet between her legs. It was almost like an ache, this need to touch and be touched…

“Spike,” she breathed his name, when his tongue darted out to moisten her heated skin and dip into that soft ticklish spot between her throat and her collarbone. He began to suck with abandon, giving her a proper hickey before his lips trailed back to her face, kissing here, nibbling there, until he captured her lower lip with blunt teeth and invaded her mouth again with his tongue.

Suddenly, Xander’s hand was there as well, covering Anya’s, his fingertips touching Spike’s brow.

His warm and muscular body was pressed against Spike’s back and callused fingers slid under the vampire’s t-shirt. Spike could feel the hard evidence of Xander’s desire rubbing against his backside. Hot breath tickled his shoulders and the back of his neck. And then soft, nibbling lips made him shudder.

Xander didn’t know where his sudden courage came from. Maybe Spike and Anya’s lack of embarrassment was contagious. He gave Anya’s hand an affectionate squeeze. Their eyes met and the same thought popped into their heads - Ours! - before their hands separated to dart south and push up Spike’s t-shirt in a joint effort. Seconds later the shirt flew across the table, narrowly missing the Scrabble board, and landed on a chair. Xander’s colorful shirt and t-shirt soon followed.

Anya stepped back and hastily shimmied out of her blue jeans, revealing a very revealing thong. Both men thought she was breathtakingly pretty. Meanwhile, Xander wrapped his arms around the vampire’s waist, increasing the pressure of Spike’s butt against his erection and continued to tweak the skin on Spike’s shoulder with his teeth. Then Anya was back. “Maybe,” Spike said, surprised and slightly dazed, as two pairs of hands quite determinedly opened his pants and pushed them down to his ankles, “maybe we should take this to some place more comfy?” He nodded towards the bedroom. “Save the Postman-always-rings-twice acrobatics for later?”

Anya nodded. “Oh, we will get to the bed,” she said, and knelt before him. “Eventually.” She tapped his ankle and he lifted his foot obediently, pleasantly distracted by Xander’s fingers that were tracing his abs and chest muscles. She repeated the procedure with the other leg.

Presto, no trousers. Spike thought.

And then – for a few seconds - he stopped thinking altogether, because Anya firmly took his hard shaft in her hot little hand and began to lick it as if it were a Popsicle. Spike gasped and arched back against Xander, whose fingers were now playing with Spike’s hardening nipples and whose erection was insistently humping against his backside. An erection that was still restrained by too many layers of clothing, as Spike came to realize once his brain was partly functioning again. He reached behind him and gave Xander’s baggy pants a tug. With the buttons already open they slid down at once.

Xander discarded them and when Spike’s fingers began to push down his boxers, Xander got rid of them as well. Oookay, naked now. he thought. Standing naked behind a naked Spike, oh boy! All pokey and groiny.

Spike leaned backwards, relishing the feel of Xander’s skin on his back; Xander’s arms capturing him, holding him tight; that hard thick dick undulating against his back, leaving a moist trail of pre-cum on his skin; Anya’s tongue and lips working his cock, circling the tip, licking and sucking first the swollen head then taking him deeper and deeper into her sweet hot mouth…

“Anya…oh… yeah,” he mumbled. His left was buried in her hair, his right hand rested on Xander’s thigh. “That’s it… there…yes…good… HOLY SHIT!”

Xander smiled fondly, when the vampire bucked in his arms. Ah, Anya’s special move.He leaned towards Spike’s ear as if imparting a secret, his breath a warm tickle. “Didn’t I tell you? No gag reflex.”

“She…she really doesn’t do things by halves, does she,” Spike croaked admiringly, as Anya continued to deep-throat him, while fondling his balls.

“Nope, all or nothing, that’s my girl,” Xander said with proprietary pride and growing confidence. “Thoroughness, thy name is Anya.” He placed his right hand between Spike’s shoulder blades. His heart was beating like a mad drum at what he was about to do. He felt daring, adventurous - in a good, non-life-threatening way  . His parents would freak big time if they knew, especially his Dad. God, he’d be fuming. But for some reason Xander didn’t care. Not anymore. He mentally sent them a two-fingered salute. With slow deliberation he slid his hand down the other man’s spine to dip his middle finger teasingly into the crease between those pale twin mounds.

“Oh…yes, there…” Spike breathed, liking the direction this was taking. This was so good, there had to be a catch somewhere… Then a thought tumbled through his head and he remembered… “No, wait! Hold on a sec.”

“What now?” Xander’s hand stilled and Anya paused as well

“Say Xander, shouldn’t we be concentrating our efforts on Anya? It’s not MY birthday we’re …um… rehearsing here,” Spike said, tapping into vestiges of chivalry he normally stomped on whenever they reared their poofy head. “An’ I seem to be center stage… which is better than words can say and maybe I shouldn’t look the gift horse in the mouth an’ all that… but it’s not really what this is all about.” Oh god, I’m babbling, I sound like Willow, he groaned inwardly.

“That is very considerate of you, Spike,” Anya replied, standing up. “But don’t worry, I intend to get as much fun out of my present as possible. I mean, it’s not like you’re going anywhere. Not for a long while, anyway.”

“I’m not?” Spike asked, feeling a bit unreal.

“Of course not. You’re my present, dummy,” she smacked his head lightly, then kissed him squarely on the mouth, before she continued: “Not a loan. And since Xander and I are engaged and love is all about sharing, half of you belongs to him,” she said, smiling magnanimously. She offered her mouth to Xander who was more than happy to press his lips on hers and invade her mouth with his tongue.

Spike stood with his mouth open. I got sucked into an alternate reality!

“Can we get back to having sex now?” Anya asked sweetly.

The birthday present blinked. Then he spread his arms wide and invitingly. “Help yourselves,” Spike said, with a beatific smile on his face. “All yours.”



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