Apocalypse Laterish



As Dahla led them down the hallway, Spike began to get that tingle of precognition that every mystical creature gets after centuries of survival. Maybe it was the draft blowing down the damp hallway. Or maybe that tingle was due to the warmth of Xander’s hand, still held in his. But, probably, it was the way the little shaman’s face looked. The fear in those usually steady eyes.

Was it possible that Angelus had risen? This whole shanshu thing was such a wild card. Maybe the human Angel was still cursed, on some metaphysical plane. Maybe he could still become evil.

Ah well, Spike shrugged that off. A human Angelus would just be a very bad man. He grinned in anticipation as they stood outside Dahla’s door. Might even be kinda fun.

The door swung open and Dahla ran in. Up to the bedside and leaned over.

Angel lay in a sweat of fever, tossing deliriously.

“What?” said Spike, coming up to Dahla’s side worriedly. “Is he havin’ a relapse from that magic oil?” He looked at Dahla. “Greimlich?” he asked sharply. “Es Angela besuchen em Greimlich aus?” “*is Angel under the spell again?*”

Dahla shook her head. “Angela es seeck,” she attempted in her odd English.

“He has that flu?” Spike felt relief for a scant second. Then he thought about it. “Came down with it pretty quick, didn’t he?” He looked at the sweating, feverish head tossing on the pillow.

“Angel has that thing I had?” asked Xander from his place by the door. He stepped into the room. “That unbelievably virulent flu that almost killed me despite a lifetime of antibiotics and vitamins? Not to mention over a hundred extra years of immune system development?”

He stepped up quickly and he and Spike looked at each other. Then Spike turned and lay his hand carefully on the sweaty head. “He’s burning up,” he said flatly. He looked up at Dahla. The concern in her eyes was more frightening to him than all the babble Xander had just spewed.

“Don’t they have antibiotics here?” asked Xander helplessly.

“Nope,” said Spike. He watched Angel.


“No,” said Spike.

“Fuck, Spike, the fever alone could give him brain damage.”

“Shut up, Harris,” said Spike sharply. He chewed at his thumb thoughtfully.

Dahla had left the room and now returned, a young girl behind her. They had blankets, a jug of water and many small cloths. Dahla began immediately dousing the clothes in the water and draping them over Angel’s head and neck. The girl piled blankets on his body.

“Is that all they can do?” persisted Xander quietly.

“Fucking shut up, whelp, I’m tryin’ ta think here,” snapped Spike viciously.

“Think about what, Spike, you suddenly come up with the formula for penicillin or something?”

Spike jumped to his feet, his face blazing. He gave Xander one intensely hostile look and swept out of the room.

Xander watched him go. Turned back to Dahla and her assistant. “Vampires,” he said to Dahla. He shook his head. She rolled her eyes and nodded. Xander almost laughed. “What can I do to help?” he asked her, bending to pick up the water jug.


Many hours later, an exhausted Xander finally dragged himself up the hill to the vampire camp. He pushed back the tent flap, nodded at Spike, and threw himself on the bed.

There was a long silence. The sulking vampire looked up from his chair in front of the fire. “He still alive?”

“Yes,” said Xander to the ceiling. He closed his eyes. “Fever leveled out. Dahla says it’s a good sign, and he’s sleeping now. She sent me home. Spike, I’m so hungry…”

“Sure,” said Spike. “I’ll make somethin’.” He didn’t move.

Xander summoned the energy to turn his head. “I am way too tired to ask,” he said. “But ask I must, apparently, if I’m going to eat.”

Spike looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you, now, Spike?”


Xander watched him. He sighed. “I was married for forty years, Spike.”

Spike shrugged.

“And I know that when someone says ‘nothing’ is wrong, what they really want is for you to guess what is wrong.”

Spike reached over and poked at the stove door.

“So,” said Xander wearily, turning his head back to stare up at the tent ceiling and furrowing his brows in concentration. “Let’s see… Angel gets sick. You freak out. No, correction, you get completely pissed off. Angel is getting better but you are still pissed off. I guess… Oh wow, Spike, could it be that you are mad at Angel for getting sick?”

“Stupid,” said Spike.

“No rocket scientist yourself, Spike,” said Xander.

“Not you, lard head, it would be stupid fer me to get mad at Angel fer gettin’ sick.” Spike kicked petulantly at the floor. “Not like he did it on purpose.”

Xander smiled at the ceiling. “I had an operation for gall bladder when James was about four years old. I was in the hospital for a couple of days and when I came back he ran up and kicked me, deliberately and as hard as he could, in the shin.”

Spike studied his nails. “Harris, I hate to criticize yer kid, but I think that’s a might mental.”

“No, Spike,” said Xander patiently. “It’s normal. Angel has always been invulnerable. He’s your Sire. It’s like having a father that never gets old, is never weak. Now, all of a sudden, he’s human. He’ll grow old. Someday…”

“That’s…just fuckin’ ridiculous, Harris,” expostulated Spike loudly. “Angel is not… I don’t, have never, thought of Angel as…” He snorted and made a derisive noise, waving this idea away with both hands.

“Okay,” said Xander, smiling. “Can I have something to eat now, Spike?”

Spike sighed, rose and knelt down, began rolling out the tortillas. “Sure, Xander, gimmee a mo’ and I’ll have these ready.”

“Thank you, Spike,” sighed Xander in a heartfelt way. He closed his eyes. By the time the food was cooked, he was snoring lightly. Spike shook his head and put the food back into the storage container. He came over and sat down next to the sleeping man. Pulled a blanket up over him, taking care to tuck it around his feet. Reached over to play lightly with the stray bangs that fell across his forehead. Then he ran a thumb gently along the relaxed jaw.

“Thanks, pet,” said Spike softly. He lay down next to him, one arm stretched across his chest in a possessive sort of way. He closed his eyes and followed Xander into sleep.


Spike did not wake until the people were trooping by his tent on their way to the sunset ceremony. He popped up and looked around. Xander was not in the tent, and Spike could tell by the glow of the tent walls that the sun was exposed, so he couldn’t go outside to find him.

He paced a bit. It was odd being the only one not allowed at the ceremony now. In the past, he and Angel had shared the exile. Kind of like being their own country. Or family. Now Spike stood alone in the tent and listened to the voices outside.

“Dia Dao.” He heard Xander’s familiar clear accent, and could admit that it warmed him to hear it. An unfamiliar villager’s voice answered and Spike felt a little pride when he heard Xander continue the conversation. Halting and grammatically fragmented, he nevertheless was able to communicate. A higher, feminine voice joined the conversation and Spike’s brows lowered. He knew that change in Xander’s voice. He heard the new girl and Xander saying goodbye to the first villager, then moving further away from the tent, still chatting together. They walked far enough away so that Spike could no longer distinguish their words.

They stopped somewhere out there and continued talking. Spike paced. What could they be finding to talk about for so long? The girl’s voice rang out in a clear, happy laugh and he heard Xander’s deep, self-deprecating chuckle. He had managed to tell a joke. Spike took another turn around the tent. Now there was silence.

There was a very long silence. Spike was beside himself, wanting and yet unable, to even lift the flap and peer outside. The glow hung on the walls of the tent. Spike stared at it, as if he could make the sun set faster just by trying. Then, with the quickness of a shade dropping, the darkness slipped over the walls. Spike literally burst through the door.

Xander was standing alone at the top of the ridge, leaning against the old tree, looking off towards the greenhouses. His head turned and he smiled easily at Spike as the vampire trotted up, looking around for lurking village girls.

“I saw Berynn,” said Xander. He stepped closer to Spike and easily slid his arm over his shoulders, hugging him against him. Spike was awash with that feeling of euphoria that Xander’s touch could engender, and forgot why he had been so agitated.

“Berynn?” he asked, trying to snuggle closer without appearing to.

“Guy from the village I met before the demon attack,” explained Xander. He looked at the ground, seeming to unconsciously hug Spike tighter. Spike went with it, his whole left side pulled into Xander’s shoulder. He breathed in just to fill his head with the boy’s scent.

“He has these weird fits,” said Xander worriedly. “Maybe he has epilepsy.”

“Probably one of the empaths,” said Spike. He dared to slide his arm around Xander’s waist as well. There was so much heat here, in the little circle of Xander’s embrace, Spike felt he had never been this warm before.

“Empaths?” Xander turned to look at him.

“Yeah, they feel other people’s feelings. Fear, happiness. Pain.”

“Must be hard,” said Xander.

Spike looked up at him. Xander’s eyes were filled with movement, like dark flags whipping in the wind. His mouth had lost its perpetual grin. The short upper lip slightly open. That pointed tongue appeared again, swiped the lower lip. “Spike?” said Xander. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Spike nodded, swallowing. Anything you want, Xander, he heard the voice in his head answer loudly.

“Sometime could we invite the village people up here for dinner and stuff?”

“What?” Spike heard his voice break like a kid’s.

“I think it would be fun to have a party,” said Xander.

“ A party.” Spike said the word like it was the most ridiculous, idiotic word he had ever heard.

“Yeah, they have music, here. We could decorate. Feed them something special. It would be nice, don’t you think, Spike?” Xander was grinning with excitement. It was irresistible.

“Sure,” said Spike helplessly. “Okay, Xander.”

“Berynn’s sister said she could help us,” said Xander.

“Berynn’s sister,” said Spike.

“Yeah, I met her tonight. She’s nice.”

Spike was silent.

“We’ll wait till Angel’s a little better so he can come also.”

Spike nodded, looking at the ground. He relinquished his hold on Xander’s waist. “Okay,” said Spike, stepping back and giving Xander his space. He turned and marched back towards the tents. “Speakin’ of Angel,” he called back. “I’ve got things of his to pack. You wanna help?”


They had the small bundles wrapped up rather quickly. Angel didn’t have much. All but a few of his books had all been lost in the fire that destroyed the world. A couple of precious vellum scrolls, his clothes. Xander was a little surprised that Spike was packing all of Angel’s clothes.

“He won’t need all this while sick in bed at Dahla’s, Spike,” he said smiling. “He’ll just have to drag it all back.”

Spike shoved an old shirt forcefully into the bundle. “Won’t be comin’ back, I expect,” he said low and tight. “He’s a human, i’nt he? ‘Spect he’ll stay down there with the humans, now”

Xander blinked. He was going to tell Spike that he was overreacting but then, he thought, perhaps he wasn’t.

Spike spent a long, somber moment at Angel’s weapon box, looking over the ancient tools and touching them lightly with his fingers. “Guess he won’t need these,” he said sadly.

Xander came up beside him, and that warm, friendly arm went around his shoulders again. “Maybe there’s something he’d like as a keepsake,” he suggested.

This cheered Spike a bit and he took his time, finally settling for a heavily carved dagger. More meant for ritual than battle anyway. They wrapped it in with the other things.

“Guess you’d like to take this stuff down there,” said Spike gruffly, not looking at Xander as he tied the last bundle shut.

“Sure,” said Xander. “I’ll do it.”

“Give ya a chance to catch up with your friends I suppose.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Won’t be long,” said Spike gruffly, “’fore yer movin’ down there too, I guess.”

“What?” Xander stopped and stared at Spike.

Spike stood with his back to him, hands on hips, surveying the tent. “I could keep this thing up just ta hold supplies and weapons,” he mulled as to himself. “Bit like havin’ an extra room…”

“I thought…” Xander stood looking at Spike. He hadn’t actually given the whole thing much consideration, but he had felt that what had happened between them, whatever the heck it was, had been sort of meaningful. It hadn’t really occurred to him that Spike might not feel the same. Now, here was Spike apparently trying to get rid of him.

“What did you think?” said Spike over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” said Xander. He bent to pick up one of the bundles. Stood looking at it and thinking. Set it down. “Well, actually…” He took a deep breath. If Spike could stick himself out there, then he could too, right? “Well, I’d rather stay with you. I…I wanted to…”

Spike waited, his head down. He looked, to Xander, as if he were exercising an irritable patience.

“Why are you mad at me?” asked Xander, sounding like a child.

Spike made an irritated noise. “Not mad, you daft wanker.”


Spike swung around in annoyance. “What in all hells are you mewling about, Harris?” He glared at the kid who was looking at him with his mouth tucked in and his dark eyes wide in that childish way of his. It gave Spike an overwhelming urge to hug him, so he looked away.

“See?” Xander pointed. “You’re mad.”

“Well, yeah,” said Spike. He shook his head and implored those above for patience. “Yer acting like some daft woman all pouting and ‘yer mad at me’ and…” he gestured, “the face.”

“The face?”

Spike turned and gave Harris the face with the big hurt eyes and the wounded mouth. Xander gaped at him for a moment and then laughed. “I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“God,” said Xander, laughing, “that’s awful.”

Spike couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“Man,” said Xander, coming forward and wrapping his arms thoughtlessly around Spike. “I am so sorry. I ever do that again, you have my permission to slug me.”

“Right,” said Spike, inside Xander’s embrace and unable to think. His traitorous arms rose and wrapped around the strong waist. Xander’s mouth was rubbing against his head. He was still laughing. Spike felt his face seeking and finding the warm hollow of Xander’s neck. His lips touched skin and parts of his body started disappearing again into the place that was Xander and Spike together.

“Spike,” said Xander, his voice soft and no longer laughing. There was a hand at the back of Spike’s neck, he rolled his head up. “Yeah,” he whispered.

A warm wet mouth closed over his.


“God. Oh, God, Spike.” Xander twisted and squealed.

“Told ya I’d make you scream,” growled Spike from beneath the blanket.

“Ahhh!” screamed Xander obediently, desperately beating at the lump beneath the blanket that was Spike’s head.

A growl and a chuckle and Spike’s hands dug into Xander’s sides again and tickled hard.

“Staahhp!” begged Xander, hopelessly kicking and trying to heave the powerful, tickling monster off his body.

Spike stopped, but didn’t release him. His head peeked out from beneath the blanket, like a turtles head peering out from his shell. “What do I get if I stop?”

Xander looked down at him, leering with delight “Anything.”

“Anything?” repeated Spike with wide, astonished eyes. “D’ ya know what yer sayin’, Xander?”

Xander’s smile softened. “Yeah.”

Spike released him and crawled up further. Planted a soft kiss on Xander’s mouth. Thought about it for a minute, and decide he needed another. Drawing back from the second kiss, he looked into Xander’s eyes and felt himself floating there. It seemed he could just stay this way forever, watching the light and dark swirl and blend in Xander’s eyes.

They had gone from kissing upright, to kissing sitting, to kissing fully clothed under the blankets. Spike had never necked for such an extended period in all his unlife. But he hadn’t kissed or been kissed for many years, so he didn’t much mind and besides, he was terrified.

Spike was scared to death to initiate sex again with Xander. He knew, somehow he just knew, that this time would be different. This time it would mean something. The devotion and loyalty in this kid wasn’t something you just turned off like a faucet. Spike knew about that sort of thing. He was the same way. What was happening between them, this close, warm feeling in which he delighted, was rapidly rising to something more, something significant. He could see it coming at him like a steep cliff. He was either going to run up it. Or smack into it.

And, although the kid’s innocence was so erotic to Spike, that he was barely able to control himself, he felt a deeper well of sexuality in Xander just waiting to be tapped. Xander took such pleasure in the sex act, was such a sensual man himself; Spike felt the imminence of depths of pleasure. It was a breathless, terrifying place to go and he felt, as a diver does, a certain hesitation before falling backwards into the sea of it.

But, finally, Spike had never fucked a man. There had been something about his ‘relationship’ with Angel, maybe it was the Sire thing, or maybe the control Angel had to have whenever they were together, but Spike had never questioned or sought to change the roles in their sex play. Now, he knew, Xander wanted him to be in charge. At least for now. Xander wanted him to… Spike’s mind spun out, sparks flying from the wheels, whenever he thought of what Xander wanted him to do.

A gentle hand ran up the side of Spike’s face, cupped it, ran back across his head, gathered the hair there and carded it gently. Spike’s head arched under the caress. Xander grinned lazily and repeated the gesture.

“This is nice,” said Xander.

“Yeah,” said Spike, surprised as some wave of emotion suddenly swelled in his chest and receded.

“So,” said Xander. He caressed Spike’s head again. Under the blankets, he shifted and spread his legs so that Spike’s body sank into him. He rocked his pelvis and closed his eyes in appreciation as he felt Spike’s cock rubbing against his.

“So,” said Spike, closing his eyes as well with a little shiver, and leaning over to lick Xander’s neck.

“So,” said Xander, deeper, softer, huskier, “you up for phase two?”

“Phase two?” asked Spike, nuzzling Xander’s collarbone.

“Yeah, you know, the next…er…phase.”

Spike looked up at him. He could feel Xander’s heart thudding against his chest. And Xander’s cheeks were turning pink, the rich blood pushing up to the surface of his skin.

“You know, Spike. That … stuff guys do with…er…other guys.” Xander laughed nervously. “You know…”

Spike found he didn’t trust his own voice. “You want me to?” he managed to get out roughly.

“Yeah,” said Xander, the idea making him squirm already under Spike. “Yeah, I really think I do.”

“Now?” squeaked Spike.

Xander stilled and looked at Spike with that face he had promised he wouldn’t make again. “When… whenever, heh,” he said, sort of shrugging. “Or not. It’s okay…” He wriggled a little, his position suddenly feeling vulnerable and embarrassing.

“Oh, fer…” Spike rolled his eyes in disgust. “Feckin’ child.” He leaned down and took Xander’s mouth, thoroughly and passionately. When he raised his head again he grinned down at the breathless boy. “You getting’ insecure, brat?” He rocked against Xander’s pelvis suggestively. “Feel that?”

“Y…yeah,” breathed Xander, little curlicues of happiness spiraling up from his groin and down his thighs.

“Dick doesn’t lie, whelp,” said Spike. “I just want to...to be sure yer ready.” “I’m ready, Spike,” Xander said breathlessly.

“Right then.” Spike pushed himself up and slapped his hands together, all business. “Let’s do it then.”


Spike leapt from the mattress and began tearing off his clothes. Xander stared up at him for a minute, then rose slowly to his knees, started untying his shirt. Spike was hopping up and down on one foot as he pulled off his pants, when he noticed how slowly Xander was moving.

“C’mon, kid,” Spike jumped back onto the bed, naked and bouncing. He brusquely helped Xander shed the shirt and reached for the ties of his pants.

Xander grabbed Spike’s wrists. “W…wait,” he said. He rubbed the bones of Spike’s wrists slowly with his thumbs and worked on breathing. It had been pitch black in the room the other night. Nothing but sensation, inside and out. Here, in the bright lights of the tent, the bold reality of naked Spike. Getting naked with naked Spike, was splashing over him like cold water.

Spike busily untied the pants and pushed them down. Xander’s softening penis greeted him, Xander’s suddenly goose-bumped flesh shivered. Spike looked up at Xander’s chin, avoiding his eyes. “You cold, Harris?”

“Yes,” said Xander, whose teeth obediently began to chatter. He allowed Spike to push him down, tuck him under the blankets; he lay still while Spike draped himself over his torso. He belatedly responded when Spike bent to peck him on the lips.

“We’ll need some slick,” said Spike, scanning the tent with a professional eye.

“S…s…slick?” asked Xander gamely.

“Yeah, sure,” Spike assumed a professorial air. “Anal sex don’t have the natural lubricant you get with women…”

Xander shivered violently all over. “Oh,” he said.

“So you gotta use lube, or slick or…” Spike propped himself up on his elbows and scanned the tent again. Then he climbed to his knees, using Xander’s chest to lever himself up. “Otherwise it hurts like hell.”

“Hurts?” said Xander plaintively. “But…but…” Xander rolled over to watch Spike searching the tent. The sight of naked Spike now not seeming quite so naked, Xander could see and find himself oddly appreciating the vampire’s firm ass. “But,” said Xander, warmth beginning to return. “It feels good, too, right, Spike?”

“Sure,” said Spike, plopping back onto the bed with a container of something that looked suspiciously to Xander like vegetable spread. Yellow and sweet smelling. “Eventually,” added Spike.

“Eventually?” repeated Xander. “Is that butter?” he asked, moving away a little as Spike tore back the blanket and began scooping some of the stuff out of the tub.

“Don’t worry, whelp, its organic,” grinned Spike, scanning the slope of Xander’s muscular buttocks with an appreciative eye.

“Oh, g…good,” said Xander, lowering his head to his arms and shivering. He attempted a laugh. “Heh…heh don’t want a lot of preservatives th..there, right?”

“Right,” said Spike, scooping a large dollup out with two fingers. “all you want up yer ass is me.” He laughed, and grinned in Xander’s general direction.

Then he stopped, mortified.

Xander had his head down, his eyes squeezed closed. He was shaking all over, his butt muscles uncontrollably tensed up and spasming. Spike lay one hand gently on Xander’s upper back and felt the skin flinch from him.

“Xander,” he said low and soft. “You okay?”

“S…s…sure, Spike,” said Xander over his chattering teeth.

Spike ground his own teeth and cursed himself, his demon, and a variety of other innocent persons. Then he came back and cursed himself again. “Stupid prat,” he muttered.

“What?” Xander’s muffled voice sounded terrified.

Spike set down the container of spread and carefully eased himself across the boy’s back. He tucked his arms under Xander’s armpits so that he could hold him in a modified hug and lay his head down on the back of Xander’s neck. “Sorry, Xan,” he whispered.

Xander’s breath was still quick and shallow. “What for, Spike?”

“For bein’ all kinds of fool,” confessed Spike, rolling his cheek against Xander’s back, dropping a kiss there. “I’m … nervous, Xander. I’ve never done this before.”

Xander’s whole body shook under Spike as he laughed. “Oh boy, yes you have, Spike. A lot. I am so sure of that…”

“Not…” Spike sighed, “not like this, Xan.”

“Oh,” said Xander. Then he figured it out. “Oohhh.” There was a silence during which Spike remembered what embarrassment felt like and Xander worked past the sudden mental image of Spike and Angel together.

“Do you still want to, Spike?” asked Xander eventually.

Now Spike was laughing. He rested his forehead on Xander’s neck and laughed some more. “God, you have no idea,” he snorted through his laughter.

Xander chuckled. “Yeah? Well, me too.”

“Thank God,” said Spike. He slid himself sideways off of Xander and pulled him over, then nestled back on top of him. Xander wrapped his arms around Spike and hugged him against him.

“See what you mean,” said Xander, moving his hips suggestively against Spike’s hardness. His eyes looked up through his lashes, shy and seductive at the same time.

Spike looked down at him, tongue between his teeth, and grinned. “You feel good, too, Harris.”

“Yeah,” said Xander. He ran his hand up Spike’s neck to the back of his head and pulled him down into the kiss. Spike felt Xander’s other hand slide down and grab possessively at his ass. It felt very very good.

Xander pulled away from the kiss, biting at Spike’s chin. “Think I just found out I’m an ass man,” he whispered, squeezing that part of Spike again.

The effect on Spike was somewhat like a tire pump. Every ounce of blood in his body seemed to pool in his cock. “Roll over, Xander,” he said, desperately, before his brain quit working altogether. “Want to keep this simple.”

“Okay,” said Xander. He rolled onto his belly and looked back at Spike forlornly. “I want to feel like you’re here with me.”

“Oh, you will,” said Spike. He crawled onto Xander again, bringing the container of spread with him. Leaning sideways he stroked Xander’s cheeks, occasionally stopping to lean over and lick the back of his neck, an ear lobe, a shoulder blade. His fingers caressed the dip between Xander’s cheeks, sliding up and down in the buttery substance, until they slid, with a little bump, over Xander’s pucker.

Xander jumped. “You…you sure you know how to do this, Spike?”

“S okay, pet,” murmured Spike, licking at skin. He ran his finger over the pucker again, circled it gently, drew his hand away to get more slick.

“Seems kinda gross,” said Xander, wistfully.

“Not from where I’m sittin’,” said Spike. He slid his finger over the little opening again, rubbed back and forth.

“I’ve never seen it,” said Xander. He laughed. He wiggled a bit.

“It’s beautiful,” murmured Spike. He lowered his head and began kissing down Xander’s spine. “So perfect and sweet and waitin’ for me.” He smiled when he felt Xander wriggle again, and kissed further down, his finger still circling over the little rosette.

“Yeah,” said Xander, sounding husky. “Feels kinda nice. Kinda strange but kinda nice.”

“It’ll feel better than nice,” Spike promised, kissing further down. His lips found their way down Xander’s crack, his tongue lapping at the butter, moved lightly over Xander’s hole and he jumped again.

“Spike,” he hissed. “That’s gross.”

“Please, Xander,” begged Spike, kissing and licking, his tongue flicking back and forth eagerly. “Please let me taste you, let me…” He pushed hard against Xander’s hole with the flat of his tongue, groaned appreciatively when he felt it spasm.

Xander’s body told Xander’s mind to shut up, and pushed back infinitesimally towards Spike’s mouth. He gasped when he felt the cool tongue poking at his hole, then cried out in surprise as the pointed tip found its way in and wiggled.

He could feel Spike growling, the vibrations buzzing up his tail bone. And the idea of Spike’s mouth down there, combined with the soft yet firm sensation of the cool tongue inside him, was now so erotic, Xander was writhing around, his hips moving in a little circular pattern.

Spike pulled back a bit. He ran another lubricated finger over the hungry hole. “Yeah, whelp, it’s nice.”

“Spike.” Xander ground himself into the sheets, pushed back towards Spike’s fingers.

“Got you right here, Xan,” murmured Spike, his finger pressing harder, till it just popped in.

Xander made a noise and pushed against Spike’s finger.

“Yeah?” said Spike. He pushed his finger a little further in. He had an idea that there was a place that Angel hit inside him. He wondered it Xander had it.

“Oooohhh, Gaaahhhd,” moaned Xander.

Spike guessed he’d found it. He rubbed softly against the little spongy swelling that was making Xander moan for a few more seconds, then withdrew his finger. Xander whimpered, but Spike quickly brought two fingers up and pressed in. Xander jumped again, Spike could hear him panting. He kept his fingers still.

“You okay, Xan?”

“Yeah,” breathed Xander. He wiggled his butt. Spike could hear the smile in his voice. “God, Spike you’ve got your fingers up my ass.”

Spike grinned. “Yeah, I do, Harris.”

“It feels so fucking strange.” Xander pushed back harder, and Spike obliged by shoving his fingers in deeper, bumping the little spongy lump as they passed.

Xander’s moan was long and drawn out. He spread his arms and his legs and ground against the sheets. Spike chuckled.

“You gonna make it to the main event, pup?”

“Spike,” panted Xander. “God, Spike, whatever you do, do it now please. Please.”

“Okay, Xan, okay, I’m here.” Spike hurriedly withdrew his fingers and spread the entire contents of the container over his cock. He lined the tip up with Xander’s hole, which seemed to be gaping rhythmically for him. “Oh, Geez,” breathed Spike, pushing the head gently against that small enticing opening. “Oh, fuck, Xander. Oh fuck.” And he very slowly pushed in.

Xander cried out, his whole back stiffening, and Spike stopped dead. “Okay?”

Xander was panting. “Is it supposed to hurt? A lot?”

Spike was afraid to pull back and hurt Xander again. He kept himself still and thought hard, remembering. “Yeah, a little. Sorry Xan. More like a burning, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Xander’s breathing was returning to normal. After a minute Spike heard him swallow, then the dark head moved up and down. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“You sure, Xander?” asked Spike.

Xander nodded again. His hips moved infinitesimally towards Spike’s cock. A movement that sent such a surge of desire through Spike, he thought he’d come right there with just his cockhead poking into Xander’s hole.

“Do it, Spike,” said Xander. “I…I want you to.”

Shaking with the effort to control himself, to hold himself back, Spike pushed forward again, the heat pulling on him, Xander’s muscles spasming around him. “Tell me if you want me to stop, Xander,” Spike rattled mindlessly. “Tell me if I hurt you oh god Xan oh god so tight so hot so fuck oh god.”

Xander rolled against the sheets, his muscles tightening and relaxing, his hips finding a grinding rhythm. He started pushing up against Spike, trying to bring the thickness inside him back to that spot, that feeling of fullness swelling up his spine. His muscles seemed to want him to push at the intrusion and, convulsively, he did.

And as Xander bore down Spike slid in, his cock sliding hard over Xander’s prostate, and Xander screamed.

“Sorry!” Spike tried to still himself.

“Ooohhh, Spiike. Do that again,” begged Xander, trying to simultaneously press back into Spike while rubbing his pelvis hard against the mattress.

Spike was losing control. Xander’s channel was clenching and fluttering around his cock, so tight and hot he felt like he was going insane. The blood in Xander’s body seemed to be rhythmically thumping against his skin from the inside. Spike’s hands ran over the sweet smelling flesh and he found his body spreading across Xander’s warm strong back, his face rubbing into the sweaty neck, damp hair tickling his eyelids, blood pumping below his lips, his chest, until he was embracing it. Barely conscious of his demon visage emerging, Spike gently circled the back of Xander’s neck with a hungry fang.

Xander made a high keening noise and thrust back again. Spike shoved forward instinctively, and dug his teeth in infinitesimally.

Xander shuddered all over. Spike regained himself a bit and lifted his fanged mouth safely from the boy’s skin.

“Oh shit, don’t stop Spike,” cried Xander from beneath him, the broad, warm back heaving and moving, and Spike felt like he was riding a dolphin, a seal, some water creature. The strong hips rocking forward and back, Xander’s skin becoming slick with sweat as he pushed himself up, and shoved back harder against Spike. “God, Spike, God, don’t stop. Harder. Please God.”

Spike pulled back and pushed in against Xander’s spot harder.

Xander cried out again, a high sound of pleasure, and Spike’s mind circled around like a spiraling bird, diving in and out of Xander’s voice, begging and pleading, demanding more and harder, driving him to ride against the taut globes as fast as he could. Hot tight heat sucking him in and clenching around him and sudden tight spasms as Xander bucked and yelled and banged his hips against the mattress and all Spike could do was hold on, his cock embedded in this wild animal, his pelvis slamming to meet him, his balls drawing up and pulling essence right out of his spine to flood inside Xander as he screamed and screamed.

Spike was lying across Xander’s back, breathing. Xander was whimpering and gasping for breath, his back still occasionally shuddering.

“Spike,” gasped Xander.

“Bloody…” whispered Spike against the skin of Xander’s back.

“Yeah,” said Xander. “Me, too.” He reached one hand back and grabbed Spike’s hip. Spike opened his mouth and caught a little driblet of sweat as it ran by. His mouth still open on Xander’s back, his hips still held hard against Xander’s ass, Spike drifted off, warm and sated and exhausted.

“Spike,” whispered Xander.

“Mtlhxxst,” said Spike.

“That was amazing,” whispered Xander.

“N,” said Spike.

“I know,” said Xander, and he closed his eyes and slept.


Later, when he woke, Xander rolled over and gathered Spike and the blanket up over him. In his sleep, the surly demon seemed much smaller, and he responded to Xander’s embrace by curling up in a ball and nestling into Xander’s chest. It was like holding a soft cool pillow against his belly while he slept, a habit Xander had had as a human a very long time ago. He squeezed Spike a little tighter and smiled when the vampire grunted and mumbled and then hissed a little. Like a kitten.

“No way I’m leaving you alone up here by yourself,” said Xander.

Spike murmured and growled at unseen predators, his lips mouthed the skin of Xander’s chest.

“We ‘also rans’ gotta stick together, buddy.”

Spike’s tongue found Xander’s skin.

Xander chuckled. He hugged Spike again. “Do I taste good, vampire?”

Spike’s face and shoulders wriggled and he whimpered in his dream.

“Yeah,” said Xander, his eyes closing as he drifted off. “I don’t know what I meant by that, either.” And he slept again.

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