Even Vampires Get the Blues
“Oi. Watch it. Clumsy git.”
Spike snatched at the toppling bottle of beer on the sofa as Xander threw himself down beside him.
“Whoaa. What crawled up your ass and died?” Xander stared at him in surprise, lips parted.
“Nothing.” Spike picked at the beer label, running a scroll of soggy paper down the bottle under his thumbnail.
The sound of drunken shouting came in through the window, the usual hoarse cries of young men far gone on booze and aggression. Someone outside was setting off firecrackers though it wasn’t midnight yet.
“You’re such an oaf, Xander. Just gets on my nerves, is all.”
The object of Spike’s irritation sat looking at him, dark hair rumpled from the toweling he’d given it after his shower. His eyes were serious, not hurt or even angry, just considering. He lifted his own beer and took a swallow before responding.
“And I repeat. What crawled up your ass and....”
“Just leave it.” Spike’s voice snapped out before he could finish. “Shut the fuck up.”
He pressed the remote and began to run down the channels in quick succession, too fast to get a sense of what was on. Didn’t really matter anyway as everything was countdown to, or year’s top 100 name your category—song, vid, movie, news story. Bunch of people, perky as hell.
Xander sat and watched the flicker of images. He took another swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank.
He dropped his hand between his widespread knees, fingers holding the beer bottle loosely. “You going to tell me?” he said finally, staring at the screen.
Spike sat silent, refusing to acknowledge the question. He lifted his beer to his lips and drained the rest in a long draught, eyes closed. Lights from the neighbour’s Christmas display outside threw a red outline round his head, highlighting the hair of his eyebrows and the fine ivory curve of his cheek.
When he opened them again, he shot a sidelong look at Xander from under his eyelashes and then placed the empty bottle carefully on the table. He remained hunched over, hands clasped between his knees.
“I just don’t like this night,” he said.
Xander watched the back of his head where the blond curls tried to spring free from the gel. It was such a sweet spot, that indentation between the cords of his neck. Tender, vulnerable. He always wanted to kiss him there, sometimes did when they were making love, but not as much as he wanted. Always gave him something like a hitch in his chest when he got a chance to simply gaze without Spike being aware.
He cleared his throat. “New Years? Something bad happen on a New Year’s Eve?”
“No.” Spike’s voice was so soft he could hardly hear the single syllable.
He waited, not sure if there would be any more. The remote had stopped at the shopping channel and the false friendliness of the voices muttered in the background as a woman’s hand displayed a ring. Just at the moment he thought Spike had said everything he had to say, he began again.
“It’s different when you’re a vampire.” He looked over his shoulder, blue eyes momentarily lit up in a flicker of light from the TV. “Your life is over.”
“You’ve got a...” Xander wanted to protest, but Spike’s voice overrode him.
“There’s nothing to look forward to when you’re like me. Years don’t mean anything. They just keep rolling on and on and...”
This time Xander interrupted. “Jesus Murphy. What a load of crap.”
Spike shot him a surprised look, eyebrows raised. And then he leaned over and took a beer from the case on the floor, twisting the cap off in a hiss of escaping gas. He tipped the neck toward Xander.
“Thanks for the sympathy, mate,” he said sardonically and took a long swallow.
Xander stood up and faced him, hands on his hips, hair falling forward over his brow. “Get your ass into the bedroom.”
“What?” Spike raised his eyes, brow furrowed. Whatever he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it.
“I want to see that sorry white ass of yours on the bed, stripped, lubed and waiting in the next two minutes.”
“Did I say you could speak? Zip it.”
Fucking hell? Spike was completely off balance and had opened his mouth to protest some more when he caught the glint in Xander’s eye. His own widened a fraction. Didn’t often see his lover with that look, but it was going straight to his balls.
He stood slowly, refusing to appear to be obeying, but headed for the bedroom.
He was in position a little over two minutes later, though Xander wasn’t counting. He’d used the time to strip off himself and now stalked toward the bed, a heavy erection swaying in front of him.
Spike watched cautiously, head resting on his arm. This was a new mood in his lover. Couldn’t quite make out what was going on though the scenario looked promising.
The mattress depressed beside him as Xander kneeled to run a hand down his back, stopping on the curve of his ass. His hand rested there, warm, large. Nice. Very nice. Spike gave a little involuntary thrust into the comforter, enjoying the friction against his cock, swollen now and pressed upright against his belly.
“Stop moving.” Xander’s voice snapped out, low and deadly.
Spike stilled his muscles, waiting. A stray current of cool air made the hairs on his legs prickle and his ass felt exposed and vulnerable except where the hand lay warm on his skin. And then it was gone.
He’d only had a second to register the cool air where warmth had been, when a resounding blow landed, sending a flare of fire across his ass.
He raised his head. “What the...” But the look on Xander’s face silenced him.
“That’s for the snark. Which I didn’t deserve.”
The fading glow left on his skin spread down to his balls and he thrust surreptitiously into the mattress.
Another blow landed near the first, once again sending a flash of heat from buttock to balls. His cock throbbed.
“That’s for the self-pity.”
Spike waited, trying to rub the aching length of his cock lightly against the comforter so Xander wouldn’t notice.
There was a wet slick sound behind and then a hand slid down his crease and pressed into his hole. “I’m going to remind you why you’ve got something to look forward to in the next year and for years to come.” Xander’s voice had taken on a softer sound, low in his throat.
Fingers sank in, opening, widening. Spike pressed back, wanting more. Heat suffused his lower body, his cock throbbing and hard. He raised his ass higher. And then the fingers were gone, replaced by the broad, thick head of Xander’s cock sinking past the tight hold of muscle and sliding into place down to the root. Spike inhaled and held, feeling the fullness and burn, desiring it, craving the moment when Xander would pull back and begin to thrust.
He spoke on the exhale. “Xander?”
Xander was beginning to withdraw, holding Spike’s hips tight to brace him for the pounding he couldn’t hold back any more. His voice came out in a gasp. “Yes?”
Spike reached round to grab one of his hands and folded it over his cock, feeling once more the familiar sensation of his lover’s blood pulsing around him, warm, vibrant with life. “I love you. That’s all.”
And gave himself in to the passion between them, unlooked for, unexpected, filling him up where there was emptiness.
There were no more thoughts about New Years eves. They would come. They would come. Together. And for what it meant, it was more than enough.
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