Warnings: m/m sex, implied character vamping.
Summary: Xander watches his last sunset.
Word Count: 1,212
Into the Sunset
He’d forgotten the sky could be so many colors at once. Orange, and pink, and purple, and red and blue, it actually reminded him of a shirt he owned. Well, a shirt he had owned; once Spike finished with it, it wasn’t so much a shirt as a wad of multicolored threads in the garbage.
He chuckled. Many things had changed since Spike had so abruptly entered his life.
For the most part, he’d never really felt as if he’d…fit. He’d simply been following someone else all his life, always a poorly done reproduction of someone else’s work. He’d followed Jesse because he was eternally optimistic; always sure he’d pass the test and get the girl. Xander had soaked up Jesse’s optimism with relish, until that same optimism all but murdered his best friend.
He’d followed Willow because she was so innocent and had a smile as sweet as the cookies she’d baked for him every time he’d…fallen down the stairs and discovered a new bruise. But that sweet innocence had turned rancid in the moonlight of Willow’s magic, and he hardly recognized her any more.
Then Buffy came to town; he followed her because she was brave and strong and beautiful, doing the extraordinary with as much ease as “highlighting” her hair. He’d basked in the glow of The Chosen One for many years, and it seemed like enough at times, but as her light had grown, his had all but gone out, and when she’d turned that light on someone else, it left him cold, and alone, and in the dark.
And Giles? Giles was the friend, mentor, brother…father(?), and Xander had relished the attention of the older man, basking in a feeling he’d not gotten as a child. But Giles had a life more important to him than his forced fatherhood, and just like that, he’d gotten into a plane and flown away, leaving his children with the knowledge of how to kill, but not how to live.
Xander snorted. How ironic was it that he’d learned to live from a creature that was technically dead? But it was more than just learning to live; it was…learning to be comfortable in his own skin; learning to rely on another, instead of just being relied on; learning to trust; learning to love. Of course, Spike didn’t know he’d done all that – would probably deny it if he did – but he did and because of it, Xander was ready…
So now, he’d follow Spike, because sometimes, Spike would follow him.
Xander climbed down the ladder to the lower level of the crypt; Spike, busy gathering up empty blood bags to dispose, turned toward the intrusion.
“You’ve been uninvited…from the dorms, Buffy’s house, Giles’ place…”
Spike tilted his head, brow furrowing. “How…?”
“Tara. She --” His chin dropped to his chest, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
A smile. “Yeah.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small satchel on a long strip of leather. “She gave me this, it’s not an anchoring spell, per say, but…well, she said it’d help me stay true to myself.”
Before Xander could replace the charm in his pocket, it was snatched from his hand and cool arms were wrapped around him. Spike sighed against his neck, squeezing just a bit harder before withdrawing.
Spike studied the satchel, turning it over in his hands and sniffing at it briefly. Locking gazes with the brown-eyed boy, he carefully placed the charm around Xander’s neck, his hands sliding down the leather strips to the bag, where they met Xander’s warm ones. Fingers interlocking, he took a step forward and buried his nose in the hair above Xander’s ear.
Xander could practically hear the lump forming in his lover’s throat. He wrapped his arms around Spike’s waist, stepping closer until they were pressed together, each breathing heavily against the other’s neck. “Shhh. It’s going to work. We’re ready for this; it’s time.” He pulled back, pressing warm kisses onto Spike’s eyelids, slowly backing toward the bed.
They carefully stripped each other, lingering caresses and soft kisses memorizing warmth and coolness, reveling in the contrast and cataloguing every touch. They moved onto the bed, Xander on his back, Spike’s mouth hungrily sucking and nipping at his flesh, as if the warmth could be sucked out right through his skin. Spike’s arms slipped beneath his shoulders, cool fingers gently running through the curls at the back of his neck. When Spike adjusted their hips until erection met erection, Xander gasped.
They began slowly; rocking gently against each other while sharing deep, wet kisses. The need increased between them, as did the tempo, until soon they were thrusting frantically, hips grinding against each other and short frantic kisses stolen between hitching breaths. Desperate cries rang out as they came; Xander, then Spike.
Xander hummed in pleasure when Spike collapsed against his chest and nuzzled under the charm, kissing the only spot that had been missed. Spike grinned at him evilly a split second before gently but abruptly nipping at Xander’s chest. Xander yelped in surprise, swatting lightly at his lover before wrapping his arms around the cooler body and tugging until they were face to face. He slid one hand up Spike’s spine and into the bleached hair, gently tugging before rubbing at his lover’s scalp.
“Now…?” He bit his lip, waiting.
Spike propped himself up on strong forearms, his gaze softening at Xander’s expectant look. Xander watched intently, as Spike drew in a breath to speak, but suddenly turned his head towards the upper level.
“No,” Xander’s heart sank as Spike vaulted from the bed and began gathering up their discarded clothes, “not yet. Here,” Spike threw Xander’s t-shirt and jeans on the bed, “get your kit on.”
Xander was crushed. “What?” He tried, but failed to stifle the whimper that rose from his chest. “Why? I thought–-"
Before he could finish his sentence, he was wrapped in his lover’s embrace and Spike was showering chaste kisses over his neck and shoulders.
“Not ‘NO’ no, you git. It’s just,” Spike pulled back, grasping Xander’s face with gentle hands, “it’s just fifteen minutes, luv.” Brilliant blue eyes searched brown for understanding. “It’s your last one, pet, ‘s important.” Spike’s face became pained. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of it before now.”
Realization dawned: the sunset. Xander shook his head; that wasn’t important, Spike was. “But...now!” he whined at Spike, who had already somehow dressed him without his even having noticed.
Spike took his hand, pressing a kiss to the palm. “Please, luv, for me?” Pulling Xander toward him, Spike blew softly in Xander’s ear, whispering huskily, “I want to taste it on you.”
Xander shuddered at the memory, coming back to himself just as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. He grinned to himself. Spike had been right, it had been important. But now it was time.
He hopped off the roof of the crypt, dusting the dirt from the seat of his jeans. Then with one last glance at the darkening sky he turned and pushed open the crypt door; determined…ready…to die in his lover’s arms.
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