Sequel to Predatory Acts Thanks again to Green and Yindagger for their work as beta readers and for giving me much needed help and encouragement and to dutchbuffy2305 and Fitofpique for their thoughtful feedback. This is the sequel to Predatory Acts and is set two years after that finishes. |
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Preying On My Mind
by
Jane Davitt
Part One
Sunnydale November 1999
Spike sighed as he settled himself into the chair, trying to anticipate
which position would be most comfortable for the long hours ahead
before he was tied in place. The last two nights had been enough to
teach him that it was unlikely it existed. He’d wrenched his neck
trying to scratch an
itch on his nose the first night, his backside was still numb from the
second and if Xander made the ropes bite in any harder tonight, they’d
snap.
Silent, his face puckered with distaste, Xander came over to Spike and
began to wind the ropes around him. As Spike had guessed, he pulled
them tight.
“Why do you hate me, Xander?”
The words came out with a thread of genuine interest woven through them
and Xander’s lips thinned. “You’re a vampire, dumbass. Your kind’s
killed more of my friends than I can remember.”
“Yeah, whatever. Wasn’t what I asked. Why do you hate me? What
have I ever done to you personally? Apart from knocking you out that
time. Oh, and the night -”
“Maybe you talk too much, Spike. Yes, in fact you do. Maybe I should
gag you as well as –”
He paused. Something dangerous had flared in Spike’s eyes and his hands
curled into fists. When he spoke, his voice was mild, almost gentle. “I
really don’t advise it, Harris.”
Xander backed down but the sullen anger in him smouldered as he
finished tying Spike’s ropes. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he had to
let Spike stay here, now he was getting threatened by him.
“So - no answer. Figures. Not got the balls to admit you just get off
on all this?”
Too much. Two nights of pretending to sleep with Spike a few yards away
had exhausted Xander. He was losing the last scraps of control over a
situation that time had failed to make easier to bear. Making a noise
that was halfway between a sob and a curse, he stalked over to a locked
cupboard, opening it and fumbling around inside. He came back to stand
in front of Spike, mutely holding out a small object. Spike frowned as
he recognised a memory charm. “How’d you get hold of one of those?”
“You gave it to me.”
Spike’s eyes flew up to meet Xander’s, startled and wary. “I bloody
well didn’t, mate. Do you know how much they cost?”
Xander’s lips curled disdainfully. “Didn’t cost you much. He owed you a
favour and you traded it for one of these. Except it wasn’t one. It was
two. Not that I knew that of course. Not then.”
Spike groaned with frustration. “You’re not making any sense. You’ll
have to do better than this. Tell me straight or shut the fuck up.”
Xander’s fist whipped across Spike’s face, throwing his head back
against the chair. It was the first time he’d touched him, skin on
skin, and it felt good to hurt back, good to leave his mark, if only
for a moment. “You want to know? You sure? Want me to tell you all
about the night – two
nights – we spent fucking each other till we couldn’t stand? How you
gave
me this so I could forget about it all? You want to know now but you
chose,
deliberately chose, to wipe it out of your memory. You wiped me clean
away, Spike. What’s the matter? Big Bad can cope with the memories of
a century of slaughter but not with anything involving feelings or,
or...”
Xander’s tirade faltered, his face working helplessly to stop the tears
from spilling down. He sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand
clenched on his knee, the other cradling the charm protectively. Spike
stared at him, silent in the face of clear insanity. “You’ve got to be
kidding
me,” he said at last, forcing a sneer to his lips in an effort to hide
his reaction. “Nice one, Harris. Almost had me there. ‘Course the fact
that you’d cut your bloody dick off before you’d let it touch any part
of my tainted, soulless body was a bit of a giveaway. Now piss off.
This
just isn’t funny.”
Xander looked up, anger stemming the tears. “Oh, it’s touched you,
Spike. It’s been in your hand, your mouth, your ass. It’s rubbed
against your body in a dozen places. I came over your back, your front,
your face. The air in the room was thick with our scent. You filled me,
held me, made me think I wasn’t alone. Said we were the same, even when
it was just me, not the hyena, you said it. Then Angel offered you my
neck that night and your eyes....they were empty. You didn’t know me,
you didn’t care. All
you were interested in was him. Just like Buffy. All she saw was him. I
was nothing.”
The bitter, furious words sputtered from his mouth. He felt drained,
spent, but it hadn’t helped to leech the poison from his soul. He was
empty and hollow. He’d given Spike enough ammunition in one minute to
fuel
years of taunting but it didn’t matter. He’d felt like a child who had
breathed on a snowflake and made it vanish. The only thing he’d had
left
were his memories and now he’d flung them at Spike’s feet to be ground
into the dirt.
Spike opened his mouth, a dozen questions demanding to be asked,
changed his mind and then said simply, “When?”
Xander brushed a shaking hand across his eyes and sighed. At least
Spike wasn’t laughing. In fact, he looked – concerned? That couldn’t
be right. “Years ago. About five, six months before you came here with
Dru. We met in an alley behind the Bronze. I was possessed by a hyena
spirit
– God, even the field trips are dangerous in this town – and you were,
well, you were feeding. The blood called to me and you – shared. We fed
and you took me with you, back to your place.”
Spike closed his eyes, letting himself go back to that night. “Yeah, I
remember that woman, but not you. I fed, went back to my digs, got
drunk...spent a day or two kissing up to the Master and went back to
Dru.”
Xander shrugged. “Yeah. You said she was ill and you were going back
for her. Well, we all know how that turned out. She dumped you. Guess
you chose the wrong one.”
Spike glared at him. “You stupid, useless wanker. You don’t know
jack about what happened and you don’t get to comment. If what you say
is true, though God knows I’m having a hard time accepting it, then
there’s
only one reason I can think of that I can’t remember it.”
“What?” said Xander, a flicker of interest in his eyes. Spike being
insulting was soothing, a return to their normal relationship. He could
cope with him angry or sarcastic.
“Dru. She would have plucked you out of my memory like an eyeball from
a skull. She’d have come for you. If I took one of those charms, and
I suppose I did, I saved your bloody life, mate. Trust me on that.”
Xander looked at him, biting his lip. There had been too many nights
spent restlessly fingering memories until they became dulled with
handling, too many days spent denying everything the brief time with
Spike had
taught him about himself. Accepting that Spike had acted out of concern
meant releasing a grudge that had turned into a prop.
Spike watched him think, his own mind working furiously as he came to
terms with what he had learned. Xander and he had been lovers? And
Xander must have felt something or he wouldn’t have bothered to hate
him
so much. Spike knew better than anyone what excesses frustrated love
could
produce. A faint warmth kindled in him. Wanted. He’d been wanted. It
wasn’t
much in the wasteland that his life had become but it was something.
His
eyes raked Xander appraisingly, approving the strength of the body,
remembering the courage he’d shown in a dozen fights. Lad had a mouth
on him, of course, but so had Spike. Xander’s description of their time
together had made him so hard, so ready, that he was having trouble
sitting still. He felt his muscles tense and relax in a rhythm that
matched Xander’s breathing, as he tested the ropes that bound him.
“It doesn’t matter,” Xander said finally, breaking a long, thick
silence. “You forgot, and I should too.” He looked at the silver sphere
and then directly at Spike. “Going to get rid of you, Spike,” he said,
his voice taunting and vindictive. “Going to forget you –”
His hand moved towards his mouth and Spike felt the demon rise. His.
Xander was his and he was going to break that link? No. Wasn’t going
to let him. With a low growl, he pulled against the ropes. The knots
had been tied cruelly tight but it didn’t matter. Spike could always
have
broken free if he’d wanted to. Just didn’t seem worth mentioning.
Xander
glanced up in alarm as the ropes snapped and Spike came for him, game
face
on, golden eyes blazing with anger and desire. Spike’s hand clamped
firmly
but gently around Xander’s wrist as he bent over him, going from a rush
of speed to stillness in a heartbeat. “Drop it. Now.”
“No,” snarled Xander. “Not going to suffer like this any more. Do you
know what it’s been like? Watching you, wondering if you’d remember, if
you’d tell them all. Wondering if you were pretending, just waiting for
the right moment. Wishing I could just ask you, but not daring to. Too
much. It’s just too fucking much”
He squirmed, trying to break Spike’s hold, but the vampire clung
to his wrist. “Xander, I keep this up and the bloody chip’s going to
have me on my knees. Please. Give it to me and give me a minute to
think.”
Xander’s lips set stubbornly and Spike let the panicked rage surge up
inside him, riding out the pain that sizzled through his head as he
squeezed Xander’s wrist hard enough to numb it so that the charm fell
to
the floor. Spike pinned Xander in place with a warning look and then
slowly
bent to pick it up, slipping it into his jeans pocket. “Right. Now
suppose
we fill in some details.”
“No.”
“Oh, I think yes.” His limited patience exhausted, his head throbbing,
Spike gathered Xander’s shirt in his hands and hauled him up the bed,
letting him fall and straddling his body. Xander could have thrown him
off easily enough but he lay still, dark eyes searching a face that had
sharpened with emotion until it looked all straight lines, angular and
hard. Spike leaned forward slowly, sliding his hands along the crumpled
sheets, not touching Xander’s body. He could feel Xander’s cock harden
beneath him, see his breath catch in his throat; hear the pulse
hammering
away in the hollow of his neck. With a deliberation he’d forgotten he
had,
Spike paused, straightening his arms so that he hung over Xander,
suspended
above a body that was quivering with need against his. “You’re still
mine,
aren’t you? Don’t know what I did, but it marked you. Tell me. Tell me
what
we did.” His voice was husky, slow and knowing.
The last flicker of defiance in Xander’s eyes was quenched when Spike
dipped his head and nuzzled into his neck, letting his body rest
lightly against his. “I’d bite you just here if I could. You know
that?” Tongue and teeth worked his flesh ruthlessly. “But I can’t.
Can’t do anything any more.” Anger roughened his voice, “And you tell
me you’re going to turn
your back on me?” The edge smoothed away and he chuckled. “Only when I
tell
you to, Xander. Not until.”
Xander stared up at him. “I thought you didn’t want me,” he whispered.
“Thought I wasn’t – good enough.” There it was, all the pain in two
short sentences. Spike felt the words pierce him. Not wanted. Not good
enough. Oh, he knew all about that feeling. He was getting the sense
that he
was almost there, almost solving the puzzle that he’d wondered about
now and then – that deep down look of scorching anger in Xander’s eyes.
He should probably take it slowly, not jiggle the precariously poised
pieces but that wasn’t his style. He could be subtle, but patient? Not
so much.
Spike sighed, sitting up again reluctantly and smoothing back his hair.
“Doubt it. If I’d just fucked you, Dru would’ve understood. Made me
pay, mind you, weak as she was, but she’d have not cared all that much.
No, must have been more to it than that, but unless you open up, I’m
not going to be able to tell you.”
Xander closed his eyes. “Get off me then,” he said. “How can I think
when you’ve got me so fucking hard it hurts?”
Spike laughed. “Ten out of ten for honesty, mate, but don’t expect any
sympathy. I’m not exactly relaxed myself.” Xander’s eyes flicked
down automatically and Spike grinned, knowing that his cock was
thrusting
eagerly against the soft, worn denim, his arousal on display. Rolling
off Xander, he lay beside him on the bed and waited. After an endless
silence of about ten seconds he heaved a weary sigh and slid an arm
around
Xander’s neck, pulling him close. “There. Now you don’t have to look at
me. Talk. Or I’ll...”
“What?” said Xander, breathing in a scent he thought he’d remembered
and discovering he hadn’t come close to capturing it in his memories.
“What can you do to me now?”
Spike grabbed his hair, pulled his head back and leaned in to kiss him,
his lips hard, rubbing away another layer of denial. “What can’t I
do?” Spike murmured.
Xander’s mouth opened under his and just for a second, it felt familiar
to Spike, but it was like trying to catch water. The ghost of a memory
hit the barrier of the spell and dissolved into nothingness. Spike
pulled back, frowning, but before he spoke, Xander came to a decision.
“I’ll tell you. Some of it, well, it’s fuzzy. Once the hyena spirit
left I could still remember everything, but they weren’t my memories in
a way. I can’t relate to them, so they don’t seem real.”
“Whatever. Just talk.”
“You know it already. We spent two nights together. The first night I
was possessed, the second I wasn’t.”
“Hang on. I can see the first night happening but you came back for
more? I wasn’t chipped then. Weren’t you scared of me?”
Xander smiled at the affront in Spike’s voice. “Terrified,” he said.
“Scared stiff that you’d lick me to death.”
“Hey!”
Xander propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Spike. “You
came up to me on the street. Said we had unfinished business and if I’d
let you finish it, you’d give me the charm. Meant I could forget I’d
fed
on a human. I could do whatever I wanted with you – and that covered a
lot of ground, trust me – and then forget it all. You’d go on your way
and I’d be happier. Didn’t tell me you had a charm too.” He lay back
against Spike’s shoulder, the tiredness tugging at him. So comfortable
here, so safe...
Spike frowned, his hand stroking Xander’s back automatically, feeling
him curve against him. “So why didn’t you take it, Xander?”
The final puzzle piece fell into place as Xander’s drowsy voice
answered automatically. “I thought you loved me.”
Spike groaned. “Oh, God.”
Xander froze, his body going from pliant to rigid as his own words
echoed in his head. “I didn’t mean that! I just didn’t want to forget,
that’s all. Didn’t trust you. Could have been poison or some weird
magical mojo.”
“Too many reasons. Keep it simple when you lie, pet.”
Xander shrugged off the arm around him and sat up, his face tight with
anger. “I’m not your pet. I’m not your anything. We had sex. Two years
ago. It was hot, yes. But it’s nothing that we have to do anything
about.
You tell anyone and I’ll dust you.”
Spike made a contemptuous sound that flicked Xander’s raw nerves
like a whip. “No you won’t, and yes we do.” He studied the flushed,
furious face, noting the panic, and set himself to calming him down.
“Strip.”
“What? No!”
Okay, it hadn’t worked. “Xander, you’re so jumpy you’re making the bed
shake. Let me just –”
“Fuck my cares away? Not going to happen.”
Spike shrugged and skinned off his T shirt, his hands going to his
belt. Xander’s eyes got large. “Stop that!”
“Nope. Getting comfortable. Do you sleep in your clothes? Not a good
idea.”
Spike’s jeans followed his shirt onto the floor and he lay back on the
bed, relaxed and at ease. Xander gritted his teeth. “Very clever.”
Spike smiled happily. “Like what you’re trying very hard not to look
at, pet? Going to tell me I’ve lost weight, or I must have been working
out?”
Xander swallowed and then deliberately relaxed, letting his eyes
wander openly, taking his time. “You look about the same. Probably
something to do with being an ageless, undead vampire.”
“You think? Can still get out of shape you know. Have to work to
look this good. You do think I look good, don’t you, Xander?”
Xander nodded casually, refusing to respond to the smirk on Spike’s
lips. “You look good for your age, yeah. So?”
Spike crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.
“You think I’m trying to tease you. Or seduce you maybe? I’m not.”
“Then why are you naked in my bed with certain bits of your anatomy
standing to attention?”
“You were an animal. You know what I’m doing.”
“Help me out, Dr Doolittle.”
“You’re not working with me here, are you? You’re clothed, I’m exposed.
You’re in control, I’m open. I’m trying to make you feel better.”
“Well, it’s not working! All I feel is...is...”
Spike glanced over at him. “Yes? Share a little, huh?”
Xander rolled on top of Spike, grabbing his wrists and holding them in
place. “I feel like I want to kill you.”
“Not from where I’m lying you don’t.”
“Didn’t say I wouldn’t fuck you first.”
“That’s my boy.”
Part Two
Xander moved off Spike and started to pull his shirt over his head. In the
brief moment that it was covering his face, Spike rolled onto his side and
kissed Xander’s flat stomach, swirling his tongue against the skin in a thoughtful,
lazy lick.
Xander froze, still blinded by fabric. “Don’t stop,” said Spike. “Take it
off. Take all of it off. I want to look at you.” His fingers began to move
against Xander’s skin, cool and supple, exploring and caressing. Xander remembered
the bruises those fingers had left on his arms, bruises that had taken days
to fade completely. He had measured Spike’s pleasure with his pain, each mark
driven into his flesh by climaxes too intense to leave room for control. He
couldn’t find it in him to blame Spike; his own teeth had drawn blood, his
nails had dug deep. The wounds Spike made just lasted longer – and they hadn’t
all faded.
As soon as he fought free of his shirt, he reached for the button on his
jeans. Spike slid further down the bed so that his head was level with Xander’s
hands and looked up expectantly, like a cat looking to be fed. Xander laughed,
his fingers stilling. He was so hard that unzipping was something to be done
very carefully but he made it even slower than he needed to until Spike growled
a warning. The sound sent a shiver through him and his hands jerked away,
as though the metal of the zip had flared white-hot. Spike glanced up again,
surprise giving way to approval, and used one hand to delicately fold back
the jeans so that he could reach Xander’s cock. He studied the boxer shorts
that were all that covered it, and then ignored them, licking and mouthing
through them until the thin fabric clung damply to the hardened flesh. Xander
gasped for air that seemed to have left the room, his hips jerking and thrusting
upwards helplessly. He was wondering how Spike managed to stay so calm when
his hand fell against the sleeked back hair, moving down to grip the back
of Spike’s neck. The combination of caress and control seemed to shatter the
vampire’s fragile composure, and as Xander watched, he hooked his fingers
into the shorts and tore them open.
Xander had memories of being held in place by nothing more than an accepted
dare as Spike spent an hour teasing him to a climax with tongue and mouth
and fingers. He had begged, writhed and screamed for mercy and enjoyed every
minute of it. Now he was discovering that when he put his mind to it, Spike
could produce the same effect in under thirty seconds. Spike was too aroused
to bother with technique. If he wanted the taste of Xander in his mouth and
on his hands as soon as possible, he got it. Xander came in silence, too caught
up in pleasure to be capable of sound, shuddering as Spike released him from
the cool prison of his mouth.
Spike’s face replaced the ceiling as he moved on top of Xander and filled
his vision. His face was so blank of expression that Xander felt a chill run
through him until he saw the lips tremble and Spike’s teeth bite down savagely
to still the quiver. Xander realised that Spike was on the edge of losing
control and seemed to be terrified by the prospect. He decided, with motives
that included kindness, though it was far down the list, to give him a little
push. Holding Spike’s wild eyes with his own, he dragged his thumb nails
down Spike’s back, pulling the blood to the surface in two wavering lines.
Spike arched his back and cried out as Xander’s hands cupped his ass, spreading
him open and holding him like that for an endless moment before letting his
fingers drift between and inside. Spike surged against Xander, his cock frantically
seeking enough friction to trigger his release - finding it and coming, in
less time than Xander had taken.
Spike let his head fall against Xander’s shoulder and lay still, unspeaking.
The curve of his shoulders was eloquent enough. Xander waited a moment and
then said, “Spike? Are you O.K? Because some of us need to breathe and you’re
a dead weight. Umm. Didn’t mean it like that. Well, maybe a little. Listen
to me. I’m babbling.”
“Yes. You are. Shut the fuck up.”
Spike peeled himself off Xander and lay back, moodily mopping up his wet
stomach with what Xander couldn’t help but notice was his shirt. “Uh, that’s
...oh, never mind.”
Spike wasn’t showing any signs of leaving but Xander felt uneasy as the
silence continued. Tentatively he reached over and touched Spike’s shoulder.
“Spike?”
“What?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.”
“Is that right.”
“We can play this game of answering a question with another all night but
you know, I think sleeping sounds like more fun. I can dream that this was
a nightmare. Won’t tell you to get back in the chair but don’t hog the covers
and the no biting rule still applies.”
“Why are you acting as if nothing happened?” Spike said. He sounded bewildered
and Xander frowned.
“I’m not. Plenty happened and I’m lying in a damp patch to prove it. I just
don’t know how I feel about it right now and – oh shit, yes. I’m doing a great
job of messing it all up for the second time, aren’t I? Sorry. This isn’t
easy for me, you know.”
It was Spike’s turn to frown. “I’m talking about me having the self control
of a bloody kid. Spoiling it for you like that. I’m not usually...well, am
I? Was I? Oh, God. It’s the chip! I can’t kill and it’s making me come too
fast!”
Xander stared at him, mouth hanging open for three full seconds before howling
with laughter. “Spike – you, oh that’s just too funny. What about me? Between
us we both came in less time than it takes me to brush my teeth but so what?
It was good.”
“You don’t count,” said Spike, not unkindly, but as one stating an obvious
fact. “You’re human.” He looked at Xander, eyes pleading. “Tell me I was better
before?”
Xander considered the possibilities inherent in that plea. Revenge. It was
within his grasp. So was Spike’s body though and he knew first hand which
was tastier served cold.
“Want some statistics do you?” he asked offhandedly. “Something to compare
to current performance?”
“Well, I don’t know – what statistics? Are you trying to tell me you kept
notes?”
Spike’s voice squeaked with outraged disbelief and Xander bit back another
chuckle. “Not exactly. Just had a long time to think it all over.” Like every
night and a large part of the day for an endless succession of weeks and months.
“Let’s see. We were in that room for a total of fourteen hours over two nights.
Asleep for some of it of course. You came nine times, I came seven. Average
time from commencement of foreplay to ejaculation was –”
“Xander! Shut up.”
“Won’t. Let me see, yeah, about 13 minutes twenty five seconds. Positions
used, well, were there any we didn’t try? Don’t think so. Want diagrams? I
can sketch them if you like.” He waited for Spike’s defeated shake of the
head and then reached out and gently patted his shoulder. “It’s not about
time, Spike. It’s not about performance. It’s about ... connecting. We had
fun. I probably made it into more than it was because it was my first time,
but still –”
“’First time’? With a vampire? With a bloke?” Spike watched the blush spread
over Xander’s face and grinned, self esteem restored. “I was your first anyone?”
“Yes. I was only sixteen!”
Spike looked at him appraisingly, the smile fading. “So you were.” His voice
was soft as he asked, “Was I – nice to you?”
Xander looked at him. “You were – are – an evil vampire. What do you think?”
Spike’s eyes flickered. Shame or regret, Xander wondered? Probably
not but he didn’t look happy either. “I think I hurt you.”
Xander thought back to the bathroom tile smooth and cold against his face
as he watched Spike walk away from him. “You could have. There was one point,
when I was possessed and you were angry with me, you nearly forced me to –
but you didn’t. After that you did nothing to me I didn’t want you to do.”
He pulled Spike to him, his face serious, his arms wrapped around the tense
body beside him. “Nothing. And believe me, we did just about everything.”
Spike shrugged. “Have to take your word for that, won’t I?” His eyes darkened
as he studied Xander. “So what did I teach you?” He ran one finger along Xander’s
collar bone and then cupped his shoulder. Pushing against it, he sent Xander
to his back and looked down at him. “What did the big, bad vampire teach
you to do, hmm? And have you forgotten any of it? Better not have.”
Xander listened to his voice, silky and insinuating, impossible to ignore,
and felt his cock stir to life again. “Shouldn’t we talk about this, think
about what we’re doing?” he asked. “Shouldn’t we – oh God, do that again!”
Spike arched an innocent eyebrow. “What, this? I don’t have your advantages,
see. I don’t know what you like, so I’m going to have to find out all over
again.”
“I like that.”
“Thought you wanted to talk.”
“Later.”
“Later’s good. And it will be bloody later, too.” Xander was barely able
to speak over the buzzing in his ears as Spike’s fingers wandered his body,
but he managed to raise a questioning eyebrow. Spike bared his teeth in what
might have passed for a smile in the dark. “Going to improve that average.
You come too fast and I’ll rip your balls off.” He glanced down and looked
disappointed. “That was a joke, you know. Give me something to work with here.”
“Yes, teacher,”
“Oh, you’re just asking for it now.”
Xander pushed Spike away, reached into the drawer of the night table and
tossed a small bottle at Spike. “No. Now I’m asking.”
Spike looked down. “Unscented? Not very adventurous.”
“I’m all out of wild cherry.”
Xander’s voice sounded odd and Spike glanced at him. “Is that a joke I’m
supposed to get?”
Xander opened his mouth and shut it again. “Doesn’t matter.”
Spike looked down at the lube and several excellent places to apply it and
then back up at Xander’s shadowed face. The bottle landed on the floor and
Spike had Xander in his arms before the first tears fell.
Part Three
Spike had forgotten how hot tears could be. Xander’s were trickling
over his skin, his head was resting in the curve of Spike’s neck and he
had his arms wrapped around him as tightly as he could. If Spike had
stopped to think, the conflicting emotions probably would have had much
the same effect as
the chip firing, but instinct had made him pull Xander close, give him
a
place to hide the tears so that he could pretend they didn’t exist if
he wanted
to. Xander was crying as silently as he’d come, his body shaking, his
chest
heaving against the unmoving rock that was Spike. Spike’s eyes fell and
he
watched his hand moving in a rhythmic pattern against Xander’s back. He
heard
a voice whispering soothing nonsense, recognised it as his own and felt
the
confusion melt away.
Xander was hurting. Xander was his. He had to make it better. Spike had
no hang ups about tears. Vampires didn’t cry as a rule but their
victims
did. They cried, they begged, they screamed for mercy. It was a human
thing.
Deciding that Xander had cried enough, he forced his head up and
studied
the wet face. After a comprehensive glance he said tersely, “Sniff.
Better,
but not good enough. Here. Blow on this.”
“That’s my shirt.”
“I got it messy anyway. Blow.”
Xander obeyed him and was about to mop up his face with a relatively
clean bit of shirt when Spike took it from him and tossed it on the
floor. “I’ll do that.” Leaning forward he stroked the tears from his
face with the back of his hand and then gently closed Xander’s eyes,
brushing the last of them away and kissing Xander’s mouth as a grace
note. Xander’s eyes opened for a startled second and then shut on a
sigh as the kiss deepened. When Spike’s teeth bit into his lip, tasting
the salt, he moaned and pulled Spike back with him so they were lying
on the bed, legs tangled and hands free. The kisses grew harder, their
hands more demanding, and when Spike found his arms
pinned above his head as Xander’s other hand blurred on his cock he
decided
Xander was feeling better. When Xander leaned over and snagged the
discarded
bottle of lube, smoothing it over himself in a way that suggested he’d
had
a lot of practice, he was sure of it. Xander entered him with one long
steady
thrust, his teeth clenched to hold back a whimpered moan, and Spike
grinned
up at the contorted face above him and whispered wickedly, “You’ll
scream
before I’m done with you and that’s a promise.”
Xander curved down to bite Spike’s shoulder, tasting his own tears.
“You first.”
~*~*~*~*~
Xander sighed sleepily, one arm flung across Spike’s chest, his mind
and body both finally relaxed enough to find the rest that had eluded
him. As he sank into an exhausted sleep Spike studied the face of a man
he would have sworn was his enemy and smiled ruefully. Full of
surprises, this place was. It took the Hellmouth to make William the
Bloody fall for a human but it looked as if that was what had happened,
if not two years ago, then in the last two hours. His smile faded. The
lost memories were a problem. It infuriated him that he couldn’t smash
down the wall that separated him from what had happened. He wanted to
know, wanted to find out just what had happened. His love for Dru had
been strong enough to endure for over a century and yet
he’d felt enough concern over Xander to rob himself of what sounded
like a
couple of wild nights. Why? Another look at Xander gave him no clues.
His life had changed so much in such a short time. Dru had gone. Left
him after more than a century of what he had believed to be mutual
love. It had been. It was Angelus coming back that had unsettled her,
made her leave. Spike found himself growling as the memories twisted
around him like brambles, painful
and clinging, and stopped as Xander’s forehead creased with worry, his
hand
reaching out blindly. Spike covered it with his own, squeezing gently,
watching
the frown smooth away.
Sighing, he settled down to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Xander woke with his dreams rolling away like jewel coloured marbles
dropped from a bag, vanishing in the dusty corners of his mind. Finding
that Spike was still curled up against him forced a hasty re evaluation
of some of the dreams. Memories. Real. Not his fantasies any more. He
felt a tingling, grinding heaviness as his cock, for once brighter than
the rest of him, worked out the correct response to what was probably
the vampire sign language for
‘good morning’. Spike’s fingers curled under his balls and Xander
frowned. Was that something to do with how he took his coffee?
“Morning, pet,” Spike murmured, his fingers gently prowling as Xander’s
clouded eyes began to clear.
“White, two sugars.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Xander smiled. “I’m still half asleep, ignore me.”
“Suit yourself.” Spike rolled over, his back to Xander, and stared at
the wall.
Xander opened his mouth to protest and then studied Spike’s back. It
didn’t look offended. It looked...expectant. He reached out to hug
Spike, letting his hand trail down over ribs and stomach to an erection
that matched his own, nuzzling and nipping at the curve of his neck.
Spike shuddered and he bit down harder, his hips matching the movement
of his hand as he rubbed his cock against Spike’s ass in slow, sleepy
upward thrusts.
Spike leaned back enough for Xander to kiss him. The angle was awkward
but the kiss made up for it. Spike twisted around and the kiss turned
from tender to fierce, desire blazing up from embers that hadn’t cooled
overnight. Xander knew how this would end but it was the middle that
was so full of unknown possibilities.
“Xander,” Spike said, his tongue doing its best to make a shower
unnecessary – or possibly essential – “Someone’s coming.”
Xander went numb with horror. His first thought – that Spike was joking
or giving a running commentary – died as quickly as his erection. He
could hear Willow’s high voice making polite chit chat with his
mother and he knew that it was only a matter of moments before they
exhausted all they had to say to each other and she came down the
stairs.
“Spike! It’s Willow! Do something!”
Spike gave him a disgusted look and slapped his backside hard. “Calm
down, Harris.”
The slap didn’t do the trick – far from it – but being called ‘Harris’
did. Xander took a deep breath and jerked his head towards the shower.
“Go in there. Don’t come out until she’s gone.”
Spike opened his mouth to argue and then shrugged. Rolling off the bed
he strolled towards the small bathroom throwing in a gratuitous wiggle
of his backside that had Xander transfixed for precious seconds. As
soon as he was out of sight Xander grabbed the first clothes he could
find and skinned into them. The lube he slid under the pillow, he threw
the covers up over the rumpled sheets and when Willow entered after a
pro forma knock, he was lying on the bed watching TV.
“Top of the morning to you my little Willow tree!” Too enthusiastic and
hyper. Willow frowned. “Too much coffee,” he added, trying to scale
down
his twitchiness. He heard the shower start and relaxed a little.
Willow continued to stare. “Xander? Why are you wearing Spike’s T
shirt...back to front?”
“Spike’s? This isn’t...oh, so it is. Didn’t sleep well, no I did sleep
well. I’m still half asleep. I’m – Willow, did you want something?”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Giles asked if you could go see him later, if
you’re not busy. He’s trying to put up some shelves and they keep
falling
down.”
Xander nodded, trying to keep his eyes on Willow instead of the door
Spike had gone through. “Sure. He couldn’t have phoned, though? Since
when did you become his messenger?”
Willow said gently, “Your phone is off the hook.”
Xander glanced at it and remembered just how it had got that way. Bent
over the table, pushing it out of the way as he collapsed forward with
Spike lying on him like fluff on a rug. A blush spread over his face as
he turned towards it and he was just getting it under control when
Willow drew in her
breath sharply. Time slowed as Xander watched Spike come back into the
room,
a skimpy towel wrapped around his hips, a larger one drying his hair.
Willow
was too busy gaping to notice Xander’s reaction which was just as well.
Hair all soft and mussed (want to smooth it down and mess it up again).
Skin all damp with water drops here and there (want to lick them up,
drink from him). Towel clinging, outlining a slowly stiffening cock
(want to fall to my knees and pull it loose with my teeth to get at
what’s underneath). Xander swallowed and summoned the strength that had
kept him alive on the Hellmouth.
“For the love of God, Spike. Put some clothes on. I haven’t eaten yet
and you’re making my eyes hurt with all the dazzle. Haven’t vamps heard
of fake tan?”
The words were edged with panic and came out sounding so vicious that
Willow flinched. “Xander!” she protested. “There’s no need to be so
mean.”
She turned to Spike and gave him one of her goofy grins; the ones that
made her look cuter than anyone had a right to be. “Though he does have
a point. You’re awfully...bare.”
Spike’s face softened. “For you, Red, I’ll get dressed.” He flicked his
eyes at Xander. “If I could have my gear that is.”
Xander peeled off the shirt and threw it at him in a wadded up ball.
Willow glanced between them, worry plain on her face. “This isn’t
working is it? I’ll tell Giles he has to have you back, Spike and –”
“No!” Xander smiled weakly as the word came out at twice the volume
he’d intended. “No need for that. I’m just a bit cranky with Spike
snoring all night. I’ll call Giles; tell him I’ll be over later. Thanks
Will.”
Willow nodded and backed away. “I’m late for a Wicca meeting.
I’ll...I’ll see you later, Xander.”
She left quickly, the door slamming behind her. Xander dragged his eyes
off Spike who was still holding his T shirt, still half naked and
walked
up the stairs. Bending over he shoved the wedge he’d whittled under the
door. His mother had refused to let him lock it and this was his small
rebellion against that order. Going back down the stairs to face Spike
was the most difficult thing he’d done in a while but he did it anyway.
He hated himself for doing it, but he attacked instead of apologising.
“Did you have to embarrass me like that in front of Willow? You
couldn’t have stayed in there a minute longer?” Actually, now he said
it, he thought he had a point.
Spike shrugged, his eyes empty. “Can’t help it can I? I’m an
embarrassment so I embarrass. Or are you going to try and say you’re
proud of the fact you spent the night fucking the undead?”
“I’m not saying –”
“Forget it.” Spike began to walk towards Xander, the towel starting to
unwrap. Xander watched it fall to the floor and couldn’t help following
it.
By the time Spike reached him he was on his knees, lips parted.
“Good boy,” Spike murmured. “You know I won’t believe anything you say
so you tell me you’re sorry a better way.” He held his cock in his hand
and
brushed it teasingly against Xander’s lips. Then he turned away and
went over
to his jeans, lying in a heap beside the bed. “Sorry, mate. Going to
take
more than that.”
Xander was left in the middle of the room feeling rejected and foolish.
The humiliation might have turned to anger but he knew that everything
he felt Spike had gone through too. Standing up, he walked over to
Spike and reached out a hand to touch his arm. “Spike? I am sorry. I
was scared
and I panicked.” Irritation flared and he added. “But there was still
no
need for you to come out! It was bad enough you tried to bite her last
month;
you didn’t have to flash her too.”
The coldness melted away and Spike pulled Xander to him, kissing him
with a possessiveness and hunger that left him trembling. “Want to
change your mind about my apology?” Xander asked when Spike pulled back
enough to let him speak.
Spike looked as if he was about to agree and then shook his head
reluctantly. “Later. Got to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
Spike looked at him incredulously. “There’s the little matter of my
memories? Not to mention there’s still a lot you’re not telling me.”
Xander flushed. “Can’t we just forget about that?”
“No, we can’t just forget about it! Do you have any idea how I feel?
I’ve got to know what happened. Come nightfall, we’re going to see that
demon.”
Xander gaped at him, floundering in confusion. “You want to remember?”
“No reason not to. Not like Dru’s going to pop up again.” He sounded
resigned rather than bitter.
“Why do you need me?”
“Just do,” said Spike evasively, drumming his hands against the night
table. “And you’d better bring your charm with you.”
Xander glared at him. “You wouldn’t be thinking of making me take it,
would you? Because that’s just so not going to happen!”
Spike laughed harshly. “Now that never even crossed my mind.” He looked
at Xander. “You’re not going to be allowed to forget me, you
understand?”
“Didn’t I just say –?”
Spike was on him in a heartbeat, arms tight around him, teeth digging
into his neck, just below the chip’s boundary. “Mine...” he whispered.
“I
think you need reminding of that before you go off to see your little
friends.” Xander felt Spike’s mouth high on his neck, sucking fiercely.
He knew exactly what Spike was doing and why and he stood still and let
him do it.
Spike broke away, his eyes glazed as he fought to stay in human face.
“Get out and go see Giles,” he said. “Be back before sunset. I want
this
over with.”
Xander dressed in silence and left Spike lying on the bed, his face
averted, moodily flicking through the channels on his TV.
~*~*~*~*~
Giles greeted him with an awkward smile. “Xander! There was no rush,
really. Anytime would have done. You said some time ago that if there
were any odd jobs I needed doing – paid of course. I don’t expect you
to work for free.”
Xander waved a dismissive hand. “If you just want shelves putting up
and you’ve got all the supplies, it’s on me, Giles.”
“Well, we’ll see about that later. I’ve put all the wood and such in my
room upstairs. Now I no longer have my office at school I find I’m –”
Xander tuned out Giles’ gentle babbling as he followed him upstairs,
wondering if he was going to be able to make it through another hour
without going back to his room and lying down next to Spike. He
flinched as Giles said his
name sharply and smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t get much sleep.”
Giles looked at him with concern but said nothing. Xander was shown the
lumber and set to work, asking Giles a few questions about the distance
apart he wanted the shelves and then getting on with it, trying not to
wince
as he filled the holes Giles’ earlier attempts had left in the walls.
After a while Giles appeared at the top of the stairs. “Thought you
might like a drink,” he said, holding out a can of soda.
Xander took it gratefully, popping it open and then turning his head to
nod at what he had done. “Going to look good, isn’t it?”
The light from the window fell on his neck, illuminating the mark
Spike's teeth had left. Xander heard Giles make a small sound but
his mind was already back on his work. He set the can down and turned
back to the shelves. Two steps and Giles was behind him, his body so
close that Xander felt dizzy with the heat he radiated.
“What did he do to you?” Giles said in a voice Xander had never heard
him use before, crackling with icy rage. “Answer me!”
Xander tried to reply but Giles’s hands were on him, tearing at his T
shirt, ripping it up to expose his back. Xander began to struggle but
Giles
locked one arm around his neck and forced Xander to turn so that his
back
was bathed in the sunlight. Xander knew what Giles was looking at, knew
whose nails and teeth had written words of love on his back in crimson
letters.
A hand rested against the small of his back, warm and gentle. “I will
kill him for this,” said Giles softly.
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