Length: 2401 words
Spoilers: Through Chosen and NFA
Summary: Spike finds Xander.
Notes: Written for the batpack June Challenge: Fair/Carnival
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Written: June 28, 2006
Xander eased his finger beneath the bottom edge of his patch, lifted it just enough to wipe the gathered sweat away. He looked up at the sky and wondered if there was any relief in sight from the stifling heat that had kept many of the townies away from the carnival, and had most of those who had braved the high temperatures congregating at the beer tent. The only ones standing in line at the rides and game booths were harried mothers with several children hanging off their arms.
He checked the time left on the ride, then tugged the elastic out of his hair and, careful not to disturb the patch, combed his fingers through it to give his scalp a chance to breathe, then pulled it back and fixed it in another ponytail at the base of his neck. Xander took a drink from the lukewarm bottle of water and wondered if there was any way to be more comfortable in the unrelenting heat. He’d already saturated his t-shirt and could feel the sweat dripping down his back and soaking into the denim. If he’d been able to, he’d have gladly traded his jeans and sneakers for cutoffs and sandals.
Xander slowed the ride, then stopped it. He waited for all the cars to come to a complete stop before he locked down the controls and walked over to unhook the chain at the exit. He did his best to ignore the crying, whining children, as well as the jail bait—both male and female—throwing looks of invitation his way.
After everyone had exited, he rehooked the chain and moved to the entrance. Settling his butt against the railing, he unhooked the chain, looped it over the rail at his side, and held out his hand for the first ticket. When the ride was full, he rehooked the chain and moved back to the controls. He saw JR relieving Paulie at the Swings and knew he’d be next for dinner break.
He’d given up wearing a watch within a week of joining up with the carnival. Time in hours and minutes had little place here. Most days, when the sun shone high in the sky, he ran whichever ride Clyde assigned him to that day, today it was the Tilt-a-Whirl. When the sun went down, he stuck a stake in his pocket and patrolled the carnival grounds. You could take the boy out of Sunnydale....
Xander ran the ride a few more times before JR appeared at his elbow. He’d been with the carnival too long for the fried dough and cotton candy to hold any appeal whatsoever anymore, so he headed on over to Libby’s Chuck Wagon and ordered a sausage sandwich with everything, and two more bottles of water. He downed one bottle with the sandwich, and took the other back with him to the Tilt-a-Whirl.
When his shift was over, Xander returned to his trailer to get cleaned up. The heat had not abated with the setting sun, and he knew the benefit of washing up would be short-lived, but he felt too disgusting and over-heated to head back out for patrol without a refreshing shower, no matter how brief.
Dressed once more in t-shirt and jeans, sneakers traded for a pair of boots, Xander slid a stake in his back pocket and tucked a second in his front. He walked around the kiddie rides, where he’d once interrupted a vampire trying to sneak away with a child who’d gotten separated from his parents, then over to the dark alleyways surrounding the fortune teller’s trailer and the bearded lady’s tent.
His last stop was behind the Ferris Wheel and Swings, which had consistently, in every town they set up in, become a temporary make out point for the locals. Not caring that he was disturbing the lovers, Xander slid through the shadows, searching for anything that looked out of place or felt wrong. When he’d reached the perimeter of the carnival, a whiff of cigarette smoke tickled his nose and the hair stood up on the back of his neck.
Before he could react, Xander was pushed up against the nearest tree, a form plastered to the front of his body.
“Is that a stake in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” a familiar voice whispered in his ear.
“Spike.” Xander forced his arm between them, pushed his forearm against Spike’s chest, managed to back him up about an inch. “What are you doing here?”
Spike made a production out of taking a drag off the cigarette he still held before answering. “Looking for the perfect candy apple.” He blew the smoke out, directly into Xander’s face.
Xander, used to the scent of cigarette smoke after working for months with a crew that smoked just to stave off boredom during down time, didn’t react. Instead, he hit Spike where he knew it would hurt most. “Still running errands for Buffy?”
Spike glared at him, and Xander took advantage of his momentary off-balance to push him away.
The bad thing about Spike, though, was that he knew where to hit back. After taking another drag off the cigarette and blowing smoke rings in the air as if he didn’t have a care, he said, “What makes you think Buffy’s even noticed you’re gone?”
“What’s the matter, Spike, Buffy too busy with Angel to notice you were still around?” Old habits died hard, and Xander couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth, even though they hit him just as hard as they hit Spike.
Spike dropped the cigarette and stomped it out, then shoved Xander back, pinned his shoulders against the tree.
For a moment, Xander had actually forgotten that the chip was gone. His body, however, hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to have Spike manhandling it, and he got hard.
Spike smirked, made a point of sniffing the air.
“Fuck you, Spike,” Xander said, keeping his voice low, hard. “We’re not doing this again.”
“Why not?” Spike buried his face in Xander’s neck, sniffed, then flicked his tongue out to taste. “You got anything better to do?”
“Anything would be better.” Xander pushed at Spike, trying to dislodge him, then bucked with his hips when Spike grabbed his arms. He only realized his mistake when their groins met, hard cock sliding over hard cock.
Xander wished he could wipe the smirk right off Spike’s face.
Spike let Xander’s arms go and dragged his hands down his sides until he was gripping his hips. He pulled him in close, rocked against him.
Xander brought one hand up to Spike’s face and dropped the other to his side. He pushed his fingers through Spike’s hair. He’d learned quickly that Spike would turn into a puddle of mush if you played with his hair, and would spread his legs faster than you could say fluffernutter if you pushed your thumb into his scalp right...there.
Spike made a little mewling noise and melted against Xander, all traces of the cocky vampire gone. He looked up at Xander with shock and angry betrayal when he felt the point of the stake Xander had withdrawn from his back pocket pressing into his back and realized that he’d been played.
“I hate you, Harris.”
“Whatever, Spike. Just get off me.”
Spike took a step back and turned away.
“Now tell me what you’re doing here.”
Spike shrugged, took his time lighting another cigarette. “Cleveland got boring.”
“You were in Cleveland?”
“Don’t have to make a big deal about it.”
Xander raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Not a big deal. Just, why Cleveland?”
A long drag and an even longer spiral of smoke rings later, Spike said, “Slayer needed help, didn’t she?”
Spike glared, growled. “The other one. Faith.”
“Technically, there’s like, hundreds now, Spike, not just the two.” Xander couldn’t help poking.
Spike held both hands up. “Know that better than anyone, don’t I?”
Xander suddenly felt tired. Tired of the bickering. Tired of the running. Tired of being lonely in a crowd of people. He shoved the stake into his back pocket, hooked his thumbs in the front.
“So, what, Cleveland got boring so you decided to become a carnie?”
Spike glared at him again, but this time it held little heat.
“Was looking for you, you prat.”
“Wow, Cleveland must have been really boring.”
Spike turned his face away and took another drag off the cigarette, but it wasn’t enough to hide the slight curve of his lips.
“You could always go back to LA, I heard they’re pretty busy there,” Xander said, grinning to take some of the sting out of the words.
Spike glanced over his shoulder at him. “Been there, done that, ain’t goin’ back.”
Laughing, Xander said, “Could say the same about, uh, this.”
Spike just ducked his head, took a last drag off the cigarette and flicked it onto the ground where he stamped it out.
Xander felt a little tingle low in his belly. “But you think going back to...to this is a good idea?”
“Beats Cleveland,” Spike said, still not looking at him.
With a dramatic gasp, Xander grabbed at his chest. “Oh, you silver-tongued devil, you!”
“Shut up, Harris,” Spike said. “As I recall, you liked what I did with my tongue.”
Spike stuck his tongue out and waggled it, and despite the childish gesture, Xander felt all his blood rush to his cock. In less than a second, they were back where they started, Xander pushed back against the tree, Spike crushed up against him. He pressed his lips to Xander’s ear so that each word tickled, sent a jolt of electricity straight to his balls.
“You used to say that no one sucked cock like I did. And I know for a fact that no one begged for it like you did. Bet you I can still make you come just by telling you what filthy, disgusting things I’d like to do to you.”
Xander tasted blood from biting his lip so hard to keep silent, but he still couldn’t hold back the moan at Spike’s words.
Spike chuckled, low and dirty. “Knew it. You’re so easy, Harris.”
“Says, uh, says the man who’d roll over and give it up for a scalp rub.”
“You wanna rub my head, Xander?” Spike raised one eyebrow, and Xander rolled his eyes at him.
“Your head’s already swollen en—.”
Spike cut him off with a hard, desperate kiss that tasted like nicotine and blood, whether from Spike’s last meal or Xander’s lip, he couldn’t tell.
Xander curled the fingers of one hand around the back of Spike’s neck, cupped his ass and pulled him in tight with the other. He was panting for air when Spike finally pulled back.
“You got someplace we can go, or you want me to turn you around and fuck you right here against this tree?”
Xander slid his fingers into Spike’s hair, shivered when Spike dropped his head and moaned into his neck. “Who said you’re fucking me?” he whispered.
“Bastard,” Spike whimpered, rubbing his groin against Xander’s.
And suddenly, the fact that Spike had bothered to come find him, had searched for him, made the breath catch in Xander’s throat. “How did you find me?” he asked, his fingers still busy massaging Spike’s scalp.
“Had Willow do a locator spell. Ow, bloody hell!” he yelped after Xander shoved him away and he hit the ground hard.
“A locator spell?”
“Yeah, what...? Oh, you had some romantic notion that I searched far and wide for you?”
Xander crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent while Spike got to his feet.
“Why would I want to spend all that time looking for you when we could be spending it shagging instead?”
That actually made a lot of sense, but Xander didn’t want to be mollified that easily.
“You stayed with Angel.”
Spike did a double take that would have been funny if Xander weren’t upset. “What?”
“You died, and then you came back and went to Angel.”
“I did not bloody well go to Angel!”
“And then you didn’t want Andrew to tell us you were back.”
And wow, Xander wondered where all that was coming from. He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding it all in.
Spike held one finger up. “Okay, first? I did not choose to go to Angel. Secondly?” He put a second finger up. “I was all ghostly and couldn’t leave LA, so I was stuck there. And thirdly.” Up went a third finger. “Once I was all corporeal again, things started hitting the fan. He didn’t want me there, but they needed me. ‘Sides, didn’t know where else to go.”
“You could have let us know you were back.”
Spike turned away, stuck his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t want to find out none of you lot cared.”
Oh. “Oh. Well, if it makes any difference, I cared. You big jerk.”
“You’re such a girl, Harris,” Spike said, but Xander could tell he was smiling.
“Look who’s talking.”
Spike sighed, heavy and deep, then looked over his shoulder at Xander. “Can we stop talking about our feelings and shag now?”
Xander let out a shout and jumped on Spike, who staggered, then did some juggling to get Xander situated on his back.
“Okay, tell me where to go.”
Xander pointed. “Over there.”
Spike started walking. “Why does it look like we’re walking towards people, rather than away?”
“Because we are?”
Spike growled. “Harris.”
“Can’t go to bed without saying goodnight,” Xander said. “We get together each night after everything’s closed up; share alcohol and stories about the day, pray the next day will be busier or less crazy. Given the heat, there might even be an impromptu rain dance tonight.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. How long is all this going to take?”
“We won’t stay long,” Xander said, then lowered his head so he could whisper in Spike’s ear. “And when we’re done, I promise I’ll let you suck my cock, and I’ll tell you that you’re still the best cocksucker I know, and then I’ll beg you to fuck me, okay? You can even tie me up and talk dirty to me.”
Spike stumbled and Xander laughed, happy for the first time in longer than he could remember.
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