Rating: NC-17, slash
Warnings: m/m sex, language
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Summary: At the end of the world, Xander and Spike form an unexpected relationship.
Written for [info]spring_with_xan, 05/25/07
Prompt from [info]10_cliche_fics: I'm lost for words...
A/N: This started out as a short ficlet I posted to my LJ about a month ago. It's a complete story now, 13,750 words. Season 7 AU.
Thanks to [info]electricalgwen and [info]mistress_tien for the beta.



Part One

Spike considers himself an observant vampire.

After all, he's had over a hundred years of experience observing the human condition. Trying to figure out what makes people tick, what makes them hurt, what makes them yearn. Easier to hunt when you can make the prey come to you. Make them ask for it. Make them want it.

And, they all want Spike in the end. Why wouldn't they?

But right now Spike has no idea what in the hell is going through Harris' pointy little head.

He'd been minding his own business, ignoring the boy and getting ready to go out for a night of whatever trouble he could find in Sunnyhell. Well, trouble that his soul wouldn't prick him about, anyway. Not much, in other words. Maybe a drink or five, maybe find a pretty girl to chat up. He'd showered and shampooed and gelled, the usual routine. Wasn't expecting Harris to be up, so he'd left his towel balled up on the tile and walked naked across the living room to his bedroom. Spike hadn't turned on any lights and was thinking about where to spend another dull, plodding evening -- he didn't notice Harris sitting on the couch. In the dark. The TV wasn't even on. Spike's senses didn't twig to his presence, which was a little disturbing if he thought about it too much. Because he wasn't used to the boy. Harris was an irritation to be tolerated on Buffy's behalf. He certainly wasn't tuning him out like white noise, like something that belonged in Spike's life.

No, he wasn't actually startled by the boy sitting there in the dark. He was sure on some level he knew Harris was there. He was just...preoccupied, that's all. He definitely didn't jump when Harris moved his foot off the coffee table with a thump. That was just his brain coming back online and putting his body on high alert for possible violence. Not a jump.

"What are you doing up?"

Harris doesn't answer for a long moment, and Spike is starting to get his hackles up over being so blatantly ignored, when the boy huffs out a breath and says, "Go away, Spike."

Yeah, like that will work.

"Now, now. Why would I go away when I can annoy you this much just standing here?"

No response to that from Xander at all. Spike can see he's just staring off into space, not even looking in Spike's direction. That won't do at all.

"Not going to tell me off again for leaving wet towels on the floor? Or for walking around starkers, offending your virgin eyes?"

That gets a reaction. Xander's head pops up and Spike knows he can't see very well in the dark, not like Spike can, but he can obviously see well enough to know Spike isn't kidding. His eyes go big and shocked and he sucks in a breath to start yelling, probably, and Spike gets that wicked little shiver he always gets from confrontation. Ah, Xander. So easy to wind up.

But all he gets is a big sigh, and Xander shakes his head and goes back to contemplating his navel.

Well, that won't do at all.

Spike flips on a light, so the irritation can continue. Xander squints his eyes against the light, then goes right back to brooding. Doesn't even tell Spike off for it, just goes right on ignoring him like the bastard he is. Doesn't he know how this dance is supposed to go? Spike is standing right in front of him, naked and bothering him and Xander won't even look at him. It's right annoying, that's what it is.

Spike isn't used to being ignored while naked.

He goes to his closet and grabs his smokes, comes back out and flops down on the orange sleeping chair that Harris kept when he moved out of the basement, for some god-awful reason. It clashes horribly with the other furniture. He slithers around, trying to get his bare ass comfortable on the cold vinyl and lights up. Still no reaction from Xander. He tries blowing smoke rings at his puffy face. Nothing.

"Xan-der..." Spike singsongs in a high-pitched voice, guaranteed to piss off poofy Sires and pudgy carpenters alike. Xander finally raises his head and takes a deep breath to tell him off for breaking about every house rule there is, but he stops. Stops the words that were getting ready to break free, stops moving, stops breathing and just stares. Xander's eyes start at Spike's feet and sweep all the way up his body and back down.

To say Spike is stunned is putting it mildly. He was prepared for Xander getting all red in the face and yelling at him to go put his kit on. Prepared for Xander to throw something at him for bothering him. For Xander to peek, take a furtive look from under his eyelashes while he called Spike rude names, that was expected. Not this brazen perusal of his body.

Xander still isn't looking him in the eye. He's clearly checking out Spike's package. It makes Spike feel naked. Which he is, of course, but he can't remember the last time he felt self-conscious about being naked in front of anyone. And he wonders if it's the soul making him feel like he should be dashing out of the room and clutching his dressing gown to his naked body. Spike crushes that thought with a vicious stomp.

So the boy wants to look. Who could blame him? He gathers his confidence around him like a blanket and chuckles to himself. The sound pulls Xander's attention away from Spike's cock and he finally looks Spike in the eye.

And what a look it is.

Xander's eyes are dark and strange and full of something Spike's never seen there before, not on Harris' face, not directed towards him, anyway. Heat. His normally goofy expression is gone, replaced with something older and wiser than his twenty some odd years. It's a knowing look. Like Xander knows that Spike is struggling in his own head, trying to figure him out, and he's not going to help.

It makes Spike want to squirm, that look. He resists the urge, but it's difficult. He stubs out his cigarette and stands up. Squashes the urge to use vampire speed, and forces himself to stroll back to his room at his normal pace because what the hell? It's just Xander. He's not going to clutch his bits modestly and scurry away.

He just wishes he knew what was going through the boy's head.


He hears Xander laughing when he goes in his room. Spike dresses quickly and is still pulling his shirt down when he stomps back into the living room.

"What the hell are you laughing about?"

Xander shakes his head at Spike, snorting with laughter. He's still sitting on the couch and Spike is trying to loom over him, but Xander doesn't look at all intimidated. He looks up at Spike and stares him right in the eye.

"I got you beat." Grinning, now.

It takes Spike a second to understand what Xander is saying. He means...Spike snorts in disbelief.

"Yeah, right."

"It's true. I'm the bigger man, Spike. It's okay. I'm not going to gloat or anything." The grin on Xander's face is three feet wide.

"No bloody way, Harris."

Xander just shrugs and looks smug. Spike feels fury uncurling in his gut, but tamps it down. He takes a deep, unnecessary breath, and feels a bit calmer. He's not going to rip Xander's throat out over something so stupid. The boy's clearly delusional, though. And Spike just can't let a comment like that go without a retort. It's bloody Xander, for fuck's sake. He considers what to say for a moment, and a wicked grin creases his face. He takes a step closer to the couch.

"How do you know, git? You've only seen my cock when it's soft. How big it is when it's hard, that's what counts, innit?"

"So you're saying you're a grower, not a shower?"

Xander is enjoying this palaver too much. Time to knock that smile right off his stupid face. Spike clutches his cock through his jeans, giving it a good squeeze. Xander just watches him, still smiling and affecting a casual air, but his cheeks are pink. Not as cool and collected as he's pretending to be. Spike feels a little bolder at that realization, so he pops the top button of his jeans. Runs his thumb over his length, which is getting harder, pressing against the button fly. Xander is watching, his fingers scrubbing nervously over his own pants legs.

Spike breathes deeply and inhales the scent of Xander's arousal. Oh yeah. He's definitely into this more than he's letting on. So Spike pops the rest of his buttons and pulls his cock out. He's big, and he knows it. Never had any complaints. He strokes himself once, twice, and Xander is staring, mouth open slightly. He's blushing and sweating a little now, and this whole scene is crazy and unexpected and it's hot watching Xander squirm. He lets go of his cock and Xander looks back up at him.

"So. Still claiming you're the bigger man here? Or is this conversation over? I can just go and let you lick your wounds in private, mate. Don't want to rub your nose in your...inadequacies. Wouldn't be sporting."

Xander blinks and starts chuckling again.

"Oh no, Spike. No way. It's bigger hard, yes, I'll give you that. But no. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I still got you beat."

And just like that Spike is angry again. It takes all of his self-control not to vamp out or growl at the impudent child grinning at him. Gritting his teeth, he spits out, "Prove it."

He doesn't think Xander will actually do it. The boy is blushing so hard he must be burning up with embarrassment. So Spike is honestly shocked when Xander only hesitates for a second before his hands go to his fly. Xander isn't looking Spike in the eye anymore, but he does open his pants. He stops and takes a deep breath. Runs his hand over his face. Then he reaches in his pants and pulls his cock out.

He's hard, Spike knew that already. He could smell it. That knowledge doesn't diminish the effect at all.

Xander isn't big. He's huge. Long and thick, and hard. His cock is as flushed as his face, pink and moist at the tip. Spike thinks he must have at least nine inches of cock there. He's longer and thicker than Spike for sure, and Spike has never felt like he lacked in that department. It's a cock that belongs in porn, or maybe sculpted and put in a museum for posterity to marvel over. Someone should write a song about that cock. It's beautiful. It's a monster.

It's a poem.

Xander is breathing hard, and his cock is moving in time with his heaving chest. Spike doesn't know if Xander is looking at him or not, because he can't take his eyes off that very fine cock springing out of Xander's jeans. He's so gobsmacked he barely notices that he's dropped to his knees.

Without thinking he's swaying towards Xander like a snake being charmed, mouth open and already drooling at the thought of all that cock sliding in and stretching his mouth wide. But Xander gasps and that sound grabs his attention and he looks up at Xander. And in that moment of clarity they both realize what they are doing. And with whom.

Spike shakes his head and stands back up. And bolts for his room. He buttons up, feeling sheepish and guilty and frustrated all at once, so he grabs his coat and stalks out the front door without looking at Xander.

Part Two

When he comes back, Xander wants to talk. He's still upset, Spike can tell, but he's calmer now. He's sitting on the couch, eyeing Spike with trepidation.

"So, you want to tell me what that was about? Because I'm a little freaked, here."

"Yeah, sorry. Shouldn't have let it go that far. I'll just leave you alone for a while. Maybe...maybe I should move out, go back to Buffy's." Spike doesn't want to go to Buffy's -- he's finally figured out that Buffy is never going to return his feelings, and he's sick of chasing a lost cause -- but he doesn't want to stay here, after what happened. He stands up to go to his room and gather his things.

"No, Spike, don't. Just...can we just talk? Don't go to Buffy's. Unless..." Xander frowns. "Unless you want to. Do you? Want to go to Buffy's?"

"Not really. She doesn't want me there. I know that now." Spike meets Xander's eyes and sees that the boy understands. And maybe feels a little empathy for him.

"Yeah. I know. Anya..." Big sigh.


They share another look and there's understanding on both sides, now. Women.

Spike collapses on the couch next to Xander and sighs. God, he does not want to talk about this. Humans and their ridiculous hang-ups about sex.

"So...you...you wanted to..." Xander can't even say it.

"Xander, look. I got carried away. It won't happen again."

And he's completely unprepared for the hurt he sees in Xander's eyes. But the boy hides it quickly.

"Okay. I just...I thought you were straight? And that..."

"It's not the same with vampires, Xander. Sex is just sex. Not all tied up with guilt and shame, like you poor sods. It all feels good, so why not?"

He watches Xander turn that over in his mind, looking at all the angles. And he's shocked again when Xander's eyes go wide with some emotion Spike can't pin down. But he thinks it might be excitement. He still smells like fear, though, and Spike has no idea what that means.

"So, you did want...that. You wanted to...you wanted me. You wanted me?"

Spike rolls his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. 120 years of unlife and nothing ever changes. He's still caught up in this soap opera that just won't bloody end.

He rolls his head around so he can look Xander in the eye.

"Yeah, all right? I did. For one bloody second I wanted to suck your cock, Xander. What did you expect? You're hard and waving that bloody cudgel in my face. I'm a vampire! Not a human. Not used to curbing my urges, okay?" And Spike knows as soon as the words leave his lips that it's a lie, and he knows that Xander knows it too. The chip forced Spike into curbing his urges just fine, and even now, without the chip forcing him to restrain himself, the self-discipline he learned is still there. And the soul...well, he's not going to add to the pile of guilt already weighing him down.

Xander looks at him, that knowing look in his eyes again. When did he get so perceptive, anyway? Git.

Xander takes a deep breath. And Spike has no idea what he's going to say, because didn't they just discuss this?

"What if I said I wanted to?"

Shocked is too mild of a word to describe Spike's reaction to that question. He stares at Xander for a full minute, Xander's words hanging between them.

"Want to what?"

"Well. Maybe we could mess around?"

"Mess around? What the bleedin' hell is going through your head, Xander?"

Xander deflates and seems to sink into the couch.

"Never mind, Spike, jeez, do you have to be a jerk? This is kind of a big deal for me."

"No, I get that. But you can't even say it. And how do I know this isn't going to end with me as a big pile of dust when you decide you can't bear the thought of anyone knowing your dirty secret?"

"No, god! I'm not going to stake you, Spike. I just want...you know what? Never mind. I don't want anything, okay. Just leave me alone."

"You started this, mate. I was going to leave, remember?" Spike gets up and stomps towards his room.

"Spike, stop. Wait. Fuck. I did this all wrong. I'm not going to stake you, and I'm not going to freak out. Much. I just thought, you know, the world is ending and we're all going to die, and maybe I should take a chance. I've thought about it before, you know? About what it would be like, with a guy." Xander's face is red again, and he looks nervous, but he isn't stopping. It's clear he want to confront this. Whatever this is. Spike still isn't sure himself.

Xander stands up and visibly pulls himself together.

"I don't know if I'm ready for the big gay sex, Spike, but there is something I want. I want to kiss you. Can I just kiss you?"

And there's that gobsmacked feeling once again. A kiss? Spike's been completely naked in front of Xander tonight, and gotten hard for him, and they've looked at each other's cocks, but the boy wants a kiss?

Spike knows his mouth must be hanging open in shock. He's so shocked he doesn't resist when Xander pushes him up against the wall and kisses him. It's soft and sweet at first, just Xander's lips pressing gently against his. Then he presses his body closer to Spike's and it seems perfectly natural to slide his arms around Xander's waist. Xander moans and presses even closer and when he feels the tentative touch of Xander's warm tongue against his lips, Spike groans and opens up for Xander. The boy's tongue is hot and wet, and perfect. A wave of lust hits Spike, dragging him under and he loses himself in Xander's mouth for a long, long time.

When Xander finally pulls away, Spike almost moans at the loss. But he catches himself just in time. Xander is pressed against him, and Spike is still holding him close. They just look at each other for a long moment. Xander's mouth is wet and it's the prettiest thing Spike has ever seen. And his eyes are dark, and sleepy looking with lust. God, he wants him. And that thought somehow punches through the fog and he snaps back to reality. This is Xander. What the fuck are they doing?

Xander seems to be thinking the same thing, because he moves away. Rubs a hand over his face and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"That was..." Xander looks at Spike. "What was that, Spike?"

"That was a kiss, Xander." He's trying to be flip, but the words comes out sounding husky and serious.

Xander smiles a little half-smile and says, "If you ask me, that was a helluva good kiss." The smile gets bigger. "Want to do it again?"

Spike just closes his eyes and groans when Xander backs him into the wall again and god, the boy can kiss. Spike has never been so glad to be wearing boots, because he's pretty sure his toes curled this time. Xander is bolder, running his hands over Spike's chest and sides, then sliding his hands up to gently grasp Spike's face. He holds Spike at the angle he wants and takes his time slowly learning Spike's mouth. Spike is panting when they break apart.

"Spike, look. I have to tell you something. All my life, every girl I've been with has just thrown me down and taken what she wanted. And now, god, now I want to choose. I want to choose my demon this time. And I pick you. Is that okay with you?"

"You pick...you pick me? What...why would you...me?"

Xander shrugs.

"Want you."

"You. You want...you want me? Since when?"

"Since I kissed you just now. I want to kiss you again. Can I kiss you again, Spike?"

He doesn't wait for Spike to answer, just dives back in. And Spike's head is spinning. He's shocked to his toes at Xander's words, at the thought that Xander wants him. Has picked him. He feels something he doesn't have words for. An ache deep inside is soothed and a need he's repressed for a long time is sated. Someone wants him, has chosen him. Xander's kiss is so sweet it makes Spike ache somewhere deep in his chest where he thinks a demon isn't supposed to have feelings.

Xander pulls away again and rests his forehead against Spike's.

"Is this good, Spike? Do you want this, too? Do you want me?" Xander says this so softly Spike barely hears him. And he does. He wants Xander. He's still holding on so tightly he thinks Xander is going to have to pry him off with a crowbar.

"God, yes. I want you."

Xander's breath hitches and it almost sounds like a sob. He pulls Spike even closer and just holds on.

They stand like that for a long time, until Xander yawns. He's exhausted, Spike can see it now. His eyes are almost closed.

"Time to put you to bed. To sleep, I mean." Spike grins helplessly at Xander's pout.

"But I wanna kiss you some more. Come to bed with me. Just kissing tonight, okay?" He pulls Spike into his bedroom.

Xander gets undressed but keeps his boxers on. Spike isn't wearing any underwear, so he doesn't take his jeans off.

"You're not sleeping in those, are you?"

"Not wearing anything underneath, remember?"

Xander grins at him. "Oh yeah. Not forgetting that any time soon. Just take them off, Spike." Xander climbs under the covers and turns off the light. Spike shrugs and gets undressed, then slides in beside him. And waits to see what Xander will do. His cock is a dull ache, but he's not going to push. He'll let Xander lead this dance.

Xander rolls against his side and slides his arm around Spike's waist, pulling him closer. He doesn't seem nervous at all anymore. Just sleepy and horny. He kisses the side of Spike's mouth, his aim off in the dark. He giggles and tries again. Spike grins and turns his face towards Xander, and they're off again. It's slow and sweet, this kiss, and the feeling of Xander's bare chest pressed against his is deeply thrilling. Xander breaks away, rubbing his face against his pillow, eyes closing. He's so tired, Spike can tell.

Xander's breathing evens out and slows and Spike thinks he's fallen asleep when he moves again, lips seeking Spike's. Spike obliges, kissing him softly. Xander will doze for a few minutes, then wake up and kiss him some more. Spike is wallowing in lust and achingly hard, and yet he feels no need to speed things up. He thinks he could stay here forever, kissing a sleepy Xander over and over. When Xander dozes again, he burrows into his neck, lips resting against his pulse point. He can't help it, he darts his tongue out for a quick lick, the salty flavor of Xander's skin exploding on his tongue. He doesn't want to wake Xander, it's so late and the boy is exhausted, but he just wants to taste him. Xander moans and wakes up again anyway, arching his neck. Spike licks and sucks, finally indulging himself and reveling in the sounds he pulls out of Xander's mouth.

"Do you want to bite me, Spike?" But Xander is grinning, not really asking. Not scared, either.

"Well, you are bitable. Moist and delicious."

"And don't you forget it."

They are both sniggering and Xander sounds a little punchy from lack of sleep.

Spike pulls away from Xander's delicious skin and dives back in for another kiss. He backs off just enough to look at Xander's face. His mouth is wet and swollen from kisses, and it's the sexiest thing Spike has ever seen.

"You have such a sweet mouth," Spike says. Xander moans, and Spike slides his tongue in again.

They kiss all night, until the sun is peeking behind the blinds. Spike is licking softly all around Xander's mouth, tiny little licks like he's tracing the shape of Xander's lips with his tongue. Each touch of his tongue makes Xander moan softly. Spike feels like all of his nerve endings are connected to his mouth. He keeps his touches random, so Xander never knows where Spike's tongue is going next, or when. Sometimes he stops so long Xander is starting to doze off. Then Spike will lick him again and make him gasp.

Spike suddenly rolls his upper body over Xander's and pushes his tongue into Xander's mouth, fucking it open with wet, fast thrusts of his tongue, giving Xander a rhythm, finally. Xander groans and thrusts his hips up and comes. Hard. He's moaning and flushing hot all over and he carries Spike along for the ride and he arches against Xander's thigh and his orgasm is so intense it's almost painful.


They're both so exhausted they sleep through most of the afternoon, and neither one hears the phone ringing repeatedly. It's early evening when Buffy simply kicks in the front door and rushes into the bedroom. Spike's face is buried in Xander's neck, and Buffy jumps to the only possible conclusion she can contemplate. She yanks Spike out of bed, tosses him to the floor and her arm is sweeping down towards his chest, stake in her hand when Xander finally figures out what is happening and screams,

"Buffy, no!"

Xander lunges over the side of the bed and tackles Buffy to the ground. His heart feels like it's going to pound right out of his chest, and the adrenalin rush is making him shake all over. Oh, god. Buffy. She saw them. She almost dusted Spike. His shock is nothing compared to what Spike must be feeling. His face is white and his hands are shaking worse than Xander's.

Buffy picks herself up and turns on Xander.

"What the hell is going on?" Her voice is low and deadly.

"He wasn't biting me, Buffy, he was...we were sleeping."

"Together?" Buffy's eyes are wide and her anger is bleeding over into confusion.

"Yes. Together. We slept together last night."

Buffy looks from Xander to Spike, who is still hunched on the floor looking miserable and lost. He doesn't look up.

She looks at Xander, her eyes wide and Xander feels like he's betrayed his best friend. He knows they aren't together anymore, and that Buffy never cared for Spike the way he did for her, but that seems meaningless in the face of Buffy's obvious pain. She covers her eyes with her hand and turns to leave, her shoulder hitting the doorframe on her way through. Xander finds some sweat pants, and is hopping on one foot to pull them up as he tries to catch up with her.

"Buffy, wait!"

She's standing next to his broken front door, one hand bracing herself against the wall. She doesn't turn around, but Xander hears her sobbing quietly. Oh god. What has he done? He's fucked everything up, and now Buffy is never going to forgive him.

"God, Buffy, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you like this. I didn’t think you…"

Buffy pulls herself together enough to face him, her eyes wet and miserable.

"How long?" Her voice is rough with tears.

"This was the first time, Buffy."

"Why? How? You don't even like each other."

"It just...happened. I don't know why."

"Xander, you hate Spike. You've always hated Spike. You two were always fighting and...oh god. I'm so stupid. That's what you do when you like someone, isn't it? Cordelia..." Buffy's voice catches on a sob.

"Buffy, please don't cry." His impulse is to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he doesn't think she'll let him.

"I have to go. I can't deal with this right now with everything else going on. I have to get back to the girls." She runs out the door and Xander doesn't follow.

Xander scrubs his hand over his face and turns to see Spike standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He looks like Xander feels. Xander feels the same impulse to comfort Spike, so he goes to him and wraps his arms around him slowly, so Spike can pull away if he wants. He doesn't. He holds on to Xander and they stand together for a long time, clinging to one another.

When he feels like he can talk again, he pulls away enough to look Spike in the eye.

"What are we going to do?" Xander asks.

"I think I should go talk to her. Alone."

"Okay. When you get back, we'll..." Spike isn't looking at him. He's pulling away and looking anywhere but at Xander. "You are coming back here...aren't you?" Spike doesn't answer and Xander feels his stomach drop.

Spike goes into his room and Xander somehow makes it to the couch before his legs give way. He can't let Spike leave like this. He doesn't want Spike to leave. But he can't think of a way to make him stay.

Spike comes out of his room, dressed and he still won't look at Xander. He's going to walk out the door if Xander doesn't stop him. He says the only thing he can think of.

"Please come back. I need you to come back."

Spike stops. He looks back at Xander and searches his face for a long moment. He must see something in Xander's expression, because he nods and says, "Okay. I'll come back."

Spike walks out and Xander can't help but feel abandoned, despite his parting words. He's alone again, and he wonders how this happened. When being with Spike became so important. 24 hours ago he would have been overjoyed to have Spike out of his life. Now he can't bear the thought of him leaving.

Xander flops on his back and covers his eyes with his arm. He slept most of the day, but right now he feels exhausted and wrung out. He thinks about what happened last night. He remembers what it felt like to kiss Spike for hours, how soft his skin felt under his hands. He wants more. More kisses and soft touches, and he thinks he might be ready for that big gay sex now.

And whoa, is that a revelation. He's kept that part of himself closely guarded for so long, and now that it's out, now that's he's confronted the fact that he does feel attracted to other men, he feels a sense of relief that is so unexpected. He's not sure what to think. Whenever he's thought about telling his friends, he always assumed it would be too scary and stressful to deal with. Instead he feels peaceful. Like he's finally let go of some deeply held hurt, and can heal.

He realizes he can do this. He can be honest with himself and his friends for the first time. And he knows they will still love him.

Well, Buffy might not. She may never forgive him. And that brings the hurt right back. Xander rolls to face the back of the couch and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat, thinking of Buffy's sad, wet eyes.


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