Warning: Sap, sex, and song titles. Slight bondage, S&M references, Spike who is not gormlessly benevolent. An illegitimate relation of a song fic's second cousin.
Disclaimers: Spike is not mine. Xander is not mine. They belong to Joss Wedon, et al. Nothing that belongs to the Rolling Stones is mine, otherwise Julie would have Keith Richards for a private birthday celebration.

Highway Child

with additional bits by

You've travelled all over the world. You've visited every continent except Antarctica. You went all the way to Africa..."

"I was trying to get to Newark."

"Nobody tries to get to Newark, Spike ...anyway, you travelled all the way to Africa and back for your soul. And now you're telling me we're lost in the middle of the good old, American-Road-Atlas-in-every-goddam-gas-station-or just-read-the-friggin-street-signs U S of A?"

Xander's voice rose to something resembling a shriek. It was supposed to be a two day trip over the border then, maybe, a slightly longer trip on the way back while Spike and Xander tried to figure out how to tell their friends about the wedding... or maybe a nice, long honeymoon... on some forgotten island somewhere the slayers would never find them.

"Oi! They have weddings in Toronto, too! Besides..." Spike's voice trailed off into an indistinct mumble and he started to look a little sheepish.

"What was that?"

"I said there's a bloke there who's willing to give us money if we just... pose for a few pictures. Finance a good honeymoon, that would."

"Ewwww... not enough money in the world, Spike. It was bad enough when Anya talked to people about our sex life. No way am I gonna to perform any part of our sex life for someone else to actually see!"

Spike growled at the mention of Anya, but Xander ignored him and continued "You can let people take dirty pictures of you if you... hey, NO! Hold up; wait a minute; wind back!

"You're my husband-to-be, you CAN'T, you MAY NOT, let people take dirty pictures of you, if you want. Part-owner of your body, here, remember? And this owner says, 'Don't want!'

"Besides," he muttered with sullen triumph, "you're a vampire, it wouldn't work."

"Shy, mate, or just possessive? Besides, it's worked before, alright! When we reach a civilisation with internet access, I'll dig out the URL and show you." Spike wiggled his eyebrows.

"Uhuh, you're just trying to distract me; getting me to think of dirty pictures of y... You've got a website? With...? No, you're just trying to distract me; come on, spill, where are we?"

"Near as I can figure, Arizona. And if you say 'I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque' I'm going to point out that you're even more lost than I am."

"I knew I should have..." Spike's hand flew from along top of the seat and thwapped Xander on the back of the head. "What does that mean, anyway? Is that an old people thing or something?" Spike threw Xander a disgruntled look.

"Besides, the driver ain't supposed to have to navigate as well. Less dozing-off, from you, and more perusing of your goddam road atlas and/or the passing friggin' streetsigns would have helped. 'Keep an eye open,' the saying is; bloody perfect for you, you lazy git, you don't even have the bother of having to shut the other one..."

The grumbles threatened to continue and Xander reached up and returned the thwap across the head - this one was quite a bit harder because, after all, 'Where there's no sense, there's no feeling' was another perfectly adequate saying.

Justice done, quite unconsciously, he draped his arm comfortably across Spike's and their fingers commenced a light,mutual stroking: neither man was even aware of it.

"At least it's that much longer before I have to explain any of this to Buffy." Yeah, after all of his denials how was he going to tell her "I'd much rather be with the boys"? Keeping it undercover until after the wedding somehow seemed like the easiest option. Maybe, if they were lucky... very lucky... the worst they'd have to put up with would be Buffy's teasing them about "...how cute they look as sweethearts together!"


Xander gazed through an unpainted sliver of windshield with far away eyes. He still wasn't sure how it had all happened.

Spike had shown up, battered, naked, raving but intact, on the doorstep of the house the Sunnydale survivors were renting as a retreat while they regrouped and figured out where to go and what to do next.

"Time off for good behavior," he had muttered. And that was all he had had to say about it; furthermore, he had either chosen not to or couldn't explain how he had found them.

Eventually, the rest of the Scoobies had found places to go and things to do, slipping away one by one. Even their ex-hostage had found a new hero to worship and the gang had had to put up with Andrew's blues for a week or so.

While everyone else was busy making plans, Xander and Spike had found themselves with time for each other - and hadn't that seemed strange?

Of all of them, these two men had lost the most in the Hellmouthy apocolypse.

Spike had died yet again: he had been the amulet-bearing Chosen, whose vampire body had become a literal holocaust.

Xander had lost Anya: his guilt at getting out alive when she hadn't, had fed upon his misery, at not being able to love her enough when she was alive.

The previous hate/hate relationship between the two men had mellowed to love/hate as each had found himself able to help the other start to heal his traumas. Soon, the love/hate had faded to be replaced by a mutual respect and a growing friendship.

By the time the rest of the Scoobies had scattered it had seemed natural for them to move in together. As they learned to trust and know each other their closeness became much more than just friendship. Spike had not been able to save Xander the physical loss of his eye but he seemed to be the only one capable of any emotional rescue.

Still, if someone had asked Xander why he was sitting in an ancient rattletrap making a run for the Canadian border in order to marry a member of the not-so-evil undead, "love" would have been his only explanation. Either that or "demon bait, here."


"Why are we stopping? I'm pretty sure this is not Toronto. I suppose you just happen to have pervert friends visiting Arizona, at the moment?"

Xander squinted through a thin strip in the window where Spike had failed to paint it black, then simply rolled the thing down to look at the desert,very-not-Canadian landscape.

Spike knew that Xander had just obtained financing on a brand new car before… well, 'Before' - and it was best not to go there - which would have been a joy to be driving in, on this trip, and he just hoped his rust bucket would stop breaking down. He knew a lot of the bitching was due to a constant, if sub-concsious, waiting for this wreck to fall apart..

They hadn't had any serious hold-ups, yet, just a couple of quick pit stops for minor adjustments. It was bloody difficult to hitch hike at 4a.m., though, and he'd rather not end up having to try it.

"Relax, Harris: just stopping to get something to eat. I'll grab meself a bit of coyote on the hoof, you go make up a picnic with those Twinkies you love so much and some of them microwave burritos, then we'll be on our way."

The blond melted into the shadows around the 7-11 while Xander grabbed a wide selection of snacks and a couple of yesterday's papers. Spike returned just as Xander finished at the microwave.

He smirked and gestured Xander back into the car, "I know a great place for your picnic. It's just down the road a piece."

For once, Spike hadn't been exaggerating about the distance. Xander hadn't even won the battle with his cantankerous seatbelt by the time they arrived.

"Spike, this is a shopping complex."

"We're not having your picnic here, you git... around us is the car-par; we're parking the car."

Spike left the doors unlocked as he walked away; everything they had was safely locked in the trunk and nobody could get the old wreck started if they didn't know the magic swear-word. After a moment, Xander got himself untangled from the seatbelt and followed.

"Spike... um, this is an apartment complex."

" 'Spi-ike, this is a shopping complex; Spi-ike, this an apartment complex; 'Spi-ike... ooooh, this a nice pool!'."

Spike dropped the sing-song whine just before Xander clobbered him with a loaded burrito.

"Yes, bloody great pool! Now shut up your mithering and enjoy: you can sit an' watch the lights reflecting in the water; get a breath or two of air that's got some moisture in it."

"And plenty of chlorine," but Xander headed cheerfully to a padded sun lounger and Spike pulled another one up alongside him. Settling down, he looked wistfully at his hip flask but, remembering that Xander had threatened to drive if Spike took so much as one sip, and that Xander took for-bloody-ever to get anywhere, he pulled out a cigarette instead. Going for casual, he stretched and let his left arm drop onto the back of Xander's chair.

"That trick is older than you, Hot Stuff, can't it wait until we're someplace we can't be seen by everybody and his mother and aunt?" That said, Xander dived back into his food. Amazingly, he didn't seem to notice Spike's right hand tracing its way up his thigh.

"I suppose I could find a way to cut the lights but that would mean traipsing around looking for a fuse-box, or lighting panel hidden away in some shed or whatever," Spike narrowed his eyes - because that always makes whatever you're searching for magically appear - "then all I'd have to do is flip the switch. Might be a bit dicey, though, all that wandering around searching. You know: a bit of noise or someone awake who shouldn't be..."

At this time of the morning the last thing Spike wanted was the residents nosing around. He knew, from bitter experience, that humans aroused from their ugly-sleep during the small, wee hours were unpleasant and excitable. They were, without exception, more noisy than what had awoken them and the excitement and unpleasantness bred exponentially as their panic spread from apartment to apartment. All of which is not to say that Spike would not thoroughly enjoy such entertainment - but not before he was ready to leave anyway, having already indulged in his own fun.

" 'ou'n't make much 'ifference anyhow; full moon is up," came the food-muffled injunction.

"Yeah, romantic, innit?" Spike wasn't going to give up that easily. He had the rasp of denim and the smooth forms of strong muscle under one hand; his other arm was pulling the warmth of his lover close and, if he had anything to say about it, the night was about to get a lot more interesting. "Just you, me and a full moon. Everyone here, asleep; everyone in this whole suburb, asleep." Spike's hand cupped around the bulge in Xander's pants and forgot about trying romantic and dreamy, "Look!" he whispered, urgently, "With the possible exception of some late-night gas jockey and that loser in the 7-11, probably everybody in this whole fuckin city is asleep! Give me a bloody break!"

Xander shrugged.

His vampire growled.

Xander licked one last blob of red jelly from where it nestled in the corner of his mouth.

His vampire gazed with lust.

Xander sucked the last dregs of powdered sugar off sticky fingers.

His vampire groaned.

Xander had to know what would happen if he was going to play with fire that way.

His vampire purred. "Don't you know the nearness of you drives me out of control? I just wanna make love to you constantly." The soft whisper played across Xander's neck forming enticing, tongue-tempting goose-bumps.

His vampire's tongue succumbed to their temptation.

His vampire never saw it was coming.

One minute he was sitting upright, fondling his lover, the next, "Look what you've done to me," Xander whispered in his ear.

"And how 'm I suposed to look, when you've got me pinned down?"

Not that his vampire was complaining, mind you. Spike could feel the hardness of Xander's cock, as the brunet thrust against his pelvis. He could feel the flexibility of its swelling as the bulkiness of their flies juddered over each other and caught for a moment; he could feel his frustration growing as the layers of fabric between them kept him from it, even as it continued to rub him to hardness.

An increase of weight pressed him hard down against the cushion, his hand,which had been working at opening his jeans, was crushed into place between the buttons. "You gotta move or we'll never get these bloody clothes off," he growled.

Xander rolled off for a minute, tearing at his own clothes as Spike unzipped his new flight boots, grateful not to have to pause for laces. Under even normal conditions Spike's jeans were almost too tight to remove but desperation helped him and, with one wiggling pull, his jeans were all the way down. He kicked them off just as Xander, fully stripped, launched himself back on. The vampire was pinned, squirming: T-shirt stretched over his face and twisting around his arms.

He stopped thrashing when he realized that Xander was pressing against his cock, thrusting slightly and murmuring into the vampire's ear. "I'll make this so good for you if you let me. I know what to do to turn you on."

Spike squirmed some more, then felt his nipple pinched sharply.

"Stop that! Remember the last time?"

At the silky-rough words, the vampire squirmed a bit harder: the last time, after being kept on the brink of orgasm for hours, he had cum so hard he would have sworn he saw God. Well, a god, anyway.

"Going to tie you up against the wall, and make sure your head is turned just right so I can watch your face when the whip comes down. By the time I finally push into you, you'll be black and blue and begging." All the while Xander was thrusting his hips against Spike's and using his free hand to rummage around in the pockets of his discarded jeans for the lube that he had come to carry habitually. Just beyond his reach, he braced himself to grab it, halting for a second, to do so.

"Don't stop." Spike was begging. Hell, he'd never had any pride when it came to something like this: he just wanted what he needed - and fast. Lube acquired, and after the briefest of preparation, Xander thrust into his lover, both men straining to keep from howling at the pleasure.

Xander pulled away the fabric still covering Spike's face: he had bitten his own lip so hard that it was bleeding and he was eager to press it against his lover's mouth and let it bleed as the vampire sucked it - no risk of too much blood loss that way and it drove the vampire into a frenzy. There was no way to speak, no way to think; they were lost to the need and the feel of flesh sliding and pounding against flesh. The bed began to sway wildly, before collapsing beneath them without interrupting Spike and Xander's rhythm.

The cock pounding into him complemented, rather than eclipsed, the feel of Xander's sweat, skin and hair as each flowed across Spike's flesh; the smell of his arousal, the very heat of him echoed and fed that demanding, addictive, SUPERB pounding within him.

Spike felt Xander begin to tense and flush. Oh, delicious heat! Its siren call was enough to push Spike over into his own orgasm but this was too good to finish yet - and besides, they had time.

The area around the pool was still, the gently lit ripples of the quiet water contrasted with the blackness of the shadowed apartment block. All that could be heard, above the background ullulation of cicadas, were the stealthy but unavoidable noises of two men obsessed with each other and each other's bodies: soft gasps; strangled moans and the sussuration of flesh meeting flesh; the grating of a chair against concrete, displaced as the men rolled and writhed - lost to everything but each other.

Spike looked up at his lover: strong, toned body reared above him, silhouetted against moonlit sky; a small trickle of blood snaking from his lip, the tiny wound opened up again after the battering of their last kiss. With a groan he didn't try to supress, Spike reached up to join his mouth with Xander's and licked and sucked away all traces of the blood. Xander pulled away from the kiss, pulled out of Spike and turned him over, shoulders pressed flat to the ground, hips and ass pulled up high.

As he pulled Spike's cheeks apart, he groaned at the sight of his lover's entrance stretched and waiting for him. Slamming in, angle just right for Spike, he worked his hole hard: wanting desperately, now, to cum deep inside him and to watch and enjoy as the body he adored mirrored his own relief.

Fingers gripped tightly into Spike's hips, he leant back as far as he could, pulling his lover's lower body up, and hard against him, as he did so. Hips jerking erratically, he whined high in the back of his throat then froze for an endless moment as his cock pulsed out his release.

Re-entering planet earth and feeling pleasantly burnt-up, he heaved a long, contented sigh and leant back on his hands, exulting in the strength and capacity of his own body and the joys of the one in which he was still deeply embedded.

Spike clenched internal muscles for him and he laughed breathily, enjoying the final jerks and twitches of his contented penis. He pulled Spike onto his lap and fisted his hand around his vampire's cock, watching as the beautiful column of flesh succumbed to his fast, determined handling.

Spike arched his body, throwing his head back against Xander's shoulder, to work himself between the grasping fist and the cock inside him. The shift in position brought their joined lower bodies into range of one of the pool-side lamps and Xander cried out with delight as Spike's cock, and his own, pumping hand were framed in an ethereal light, the rest of their bodies still in shadow,"Oh yeah! Spike!"

Spike opened his eyes to look; he reached up and wrapped his arms around their heads holding them together, in place - as if his lover had to be forced to watch the sight of the thick strands of cum pulsing from the jerking, spotlit penis held, losely now, in his hand. Two groaning sighs met and mingled as their mouths clashed together in a brief, greedy kiss before they fell together in a spent, sprawling heap on the ground.

A few minutes later, Spike gathered himself enough to start bitching, "That made it three/one; I get to be on top next time. Don't want to be losing my touch."

" 'K, shurrup now, wanna hold you," Xander muttered before snuggling down beside him into a nap. He still wasn't fully adjusted to a nocturnal schedule and would sleep whenever possible.

Spike relaxed in the aftermath, taking a moment to suck on the jugular of the man by his side. He'd never been one for moderation in love but it surprised him that he could be with this mortal, like this. He marveled at the young man who had, somehow, come to mean more to him than Dru, with her tea-times, her dolls, and her dead flowers, and all the years they were together. They'd been through a lot together, had he and Dru, good times, bad times, even some strangely happy times but, while Dru had a tendency to wander off, Spike reckoned that Xander would be there for him each and every day of the year; Xander was loyal to those he cared for. Dru was a fey child of the moon; Xander might be less exotic, but he was also less… ephemeral. Salt of the earth, this one.

Of course, what Xander did for his sex drive wasn't a drawback, either. And Buffy? Well, that had been madly passionate - mad and passionate - but ultimately futile. Even Dru had cared about him more - when she bothered. This time, Spike wasn't blinded by love; this time he'd found someone who would love him back, who wouldn't leave him shattered and alone with an empty heart.

"If you need me, I'll always be there for you, too." Spike whispered softly.

A few minutes later it was time to go.

"Come on, Slug, wakey, wakey. We're wastin' time when we need to be on the road - they must have hidden Route 66 fairly close: can't be that hard to find it. "

"Don't think this gets you off the hook for suggesting we do porn," Xander commented, as he gathered the debris of his midnight feast, before heading back towards the car.

"You're still worrying about that? I ever mention that sometimes you get a bit paranoid about things? Dunno how to take that, actually - 's not very nice, knowing that you still harbour feelings of base suspicion about me." Gods and arch-angels surely would be fighting to grant Spike absolution.

"Some things just stick in your mind." Xander wasn't impressed.

"You're just shy - you'll get over it by the time we get to Toronto.... Damn!" Spike turned, "forgot something back at the pool. I'll be right back."


A woman looked down from the shadowed window of one of the condos. She smiled sweetly as Spike came back into view and took a minute to grab his payment from where she'd hidden it.

It had been money well-spent.

The Rolling Stones' song titles used within the story are as follows:

Aftermath; Black And Blue;   Blinded By Love;   Child Of The Moon;    Dead Flowers;    Don't Stop;    Each And Every Day Of The Year;   Empty Heart;   Good Times, Bad Times;   Happy; If You Need Me;   Let It Bleed;    Losing My Touch;   Off The Hook;    Route 66;   Salt Of The Earth; Sex Drive;    Shattered;   She Smiled Sweetly;   So Much In Love;    Some Things Just Stick In Your Mind;    Suck On The Jugular;    Sway;    The Last Time;   Tie You Up;    Too Much Blood;   Wanna Hold You;   We 're Wastin' Time;    What To Do;    When The Whip Comes Down.

The End

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